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ariadne-does-her-best · 3 years ago

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Love in G Major

Dick Grayson x Reader One-Shot; Soulmate!Au

Word Count: 2,500+

Warnings: Kidnapping but nothing graphic happens

Author’s Note: Hey guys! This is my first time posting a fic so characters may be a little OOC. Please let me know if you guys liked this and if you want to, feel free to send a request! Also, I might make a series of Soulmate! Aus since I have a good idea for Jasons thought out. xo, Ariadne

Summary: In a world where everyone has a soulmate, you’re one of the lucky ones to receive a physical sign of your soulmate in the form of a timer counting down to when you’ll meet. But after being kidnapped by the Riddler, hours before you’re supposed to meet them, you can only pray that the Riddler of all people isn’t your soulmate.

Five hours.

You swayed to the rich sound of your cello, eyes closed, as you shifted your hand down into fourth position. You rested for a beat before going down bow, still doing vibrato even after the piece was done. The audience waited for a sign that you were done with the piece, be it that your hand stopped moving or you physically stood up and told them to clap. Instead, you opened your eyes and smiled as the diners took their cue to start clapping before inclining your head in thanks as you waited for the applause to die down.

It was a normal Saturday at the small but expensive Italian restaurant you performed at. You weren’t supposed to be there since you had requested to take today off but the owner had still put you down to play during half of the two-hour live performance time slot. At the end of the day, money was money and who were you to ever say no to the thousands you always received in tips. After all, you could only think about the new bow you could buy with the money. Which would lead to you sounding better, getting more gigs, and making more money. The process was like a cycle, really.

After the applause stopped and those who were up putting money in your jar had sat down in their seats, you sat back down and started playing Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1, Prelude. You could hear the pianist who was supposed to take over for the rest of the night setting up, his hands flipping through his many copies of sheet music.

Aside from the sounds of cutlery and the wisps of conversation, there was not much noise other than the smooth sound of your cello. But even if there were no noises, something still bothered you.

At first, it wasn’t that bad. You could feel someone staring at you, which was normal since you were performing on a stage with your whole being on display, but it was longer and more intense than normal. Letting your eyes wander around the crowded restaurant, your eyes locked onto a pair of green eyes. You smiled slightly at the young girl before wincing as the slight burning of your wrist got worse. You continued playing, closing your eyes as you tried to ignore the burning of your timer. Your soulmate timer.

You were one of the lucky individuals who had a visible connection to their soulmate. Instead of feeling a spark whenever you touch your soulmate, like your neighbors do, or being able to finally see color when you touch your soulmate, like your parents, you were one of the few lucky ones who could count down to the precise moment when you would meet your soulmate. And that was exactly what you did. When you were thirteen and your parents had explained your soulmate mark to you, the first thing you did was calculate when you would meet your soulmate according to your timer and write it down in your diary.

It was impossible for you to ignore the burning on your wrist, impossible for you to not grin as you played. But your grin was wiped off when you heard glass shatter and a scream.

Four hours.

You had no idea where you were but judging by the smell of the place and the fact that two men wearing green suits with question marks were staring at you, you were not at the restaurant.

‘At least I still have my cello,’ you thought as you pulled against the ropes that tied you against a pillar. The henchmen were talking between themselves as they approached the pillar where you were tied. They started untying you from the pillar and you took this opportunity to suddenly stand up and run.

You heard one of the henchmen curse but you ran in random zigzag lines towards where the door was. It was weird that the henchmen didn’t shoot at you or even attempt to stop you. But you ignored the niggling in the back of your mind. Wrenching the door open, you looked back at where your cello lay and turned back around to walk towards your freedom.

Except it wasn’t your freedom, it was the Riddler in his forest green suit and bowler combo. A rather tacky-looking combo in your opinion but hey, you weren’t going to be the one to break the news to a murderous criminal. He looked up at your sudden entrance and smiled.

“Here she is,” he said, yanking you into the room where the guests of the restaurant were tied onto the seats of an auditorium. You shivered as the cold air hit you and you looked around the room, taking in the TV production set up and the large stage that covered up more than half of the room there.

The Riddler dragged you up onto the stage, and you couldn’t help but wince as the harsh lights burned your eyes.

“What am I doing on stage,” you asked the Riddler as you covered your eyes with your hands. The Riddler’s smile became somehow larger, looking rather comical for a second before becoming more uncomfortable to look at. “Riddle me this,” the Riddler started as he pushed you down onto a chair, “what is it that cannot open any locks and yet has 24 keys?”

Your eyes furrowed in confusion as you rubbed at your wrist, the burning sensation somehow getting worse.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled as a minute passed.

“Well, if you don’t know, why don’t we give you a little motivation to figure out the right answer?”

And with that, the Riddler drew out a gun and pointed it at the closest person seated at the stage, the pianist. At this point, you could hear the sobs wracking through his body and you thought about his elderly parents who depended on him to pay for their surgeries. You don’t know how you could live with his blood on your hands.

“Wait, I have the answer,” you cried out, reaching out to grab the Riddler’s elbow but stopping. Something told you that that wouldn’t be a good idea and he might take that opportunity to shoot you.

“Well, do go on.”

“It’s music,” you said, staring at the deranged man’s face. He broke into peals of laughter, clapping his hands, as he tried to settle himself. It was unnerving how he could flip the switch easily from being a man ready to kill another to laughing as if you were the funniest person on Earth.

“That’s correct. And with that, let us start the games.”

Three hours.

After asking you his initial riddle, the Riddler had quickly set up a broadcast to be shown to all of Gotham, using the footage that one of his henchmen had taken of him questioning you as the intro.

“Batman, I have two riddles for you,” he said, addressing the camera. If you weren’t stuck on stage with two guns pointed at you as you tuned a somewhat cheap cello, you would have sighed. Why couldn’t he also include picture puzzles or something else for once? But you were stuck on stage so you just carefully tuned the instrument, hoping that none of the guards took your movement as you tuned as a sign of your sad attempt at running away.

“There are as many constellations in the sky as there are keys in a piano. What number am I? There you will find the answer to, ‘What is it that makes songs but you will never hear it sing?’ You have an hour to find them before I start playing my little game.”

As if that's your cue, one of the gunmen poked your back and you tensed, surprised by how cold the metal was through your sweater. You quickly quit your tuning and started playing the op. 88, hoping that maybe Batman or Robin would recognize it. It would probably be difficult for them to recognize since they probably weren’t as necessarily as interested in music as you were. And if they were, it’d probably be a little difficult to hear and piece together the piece since you were playing more stiffly than your usual languid movements.

You just hoped that they could understand the Riddler’s riddle and show up to save the night.

Two hours.

An hour has passed of you sitting in your seat playing your cello. Your butt was stiff from the hard chair, your back hurt from your stiff posture, and your wrist was burning pretty badly. At the thought of your wrist, your mind recoiled slightly. What if your soulmate was one of the Riddler’s henchmen? Or the Riddler himself? The thought of it made you want to puke.

“Well Gotham,” the Riddler said, standing in front of the mic as he paused to look dramatically at the camera. “Batman still hasn’t arrived yet so I will be starting my game. And today we have a very special guest that will be playing with me.”

At this, the goons started applauding and you heard a child in the audience cry even louder.

“Our special guest is the one and only (Y/N) (L/N) who has been playing such lovely music for us during our broadcast.”

You sat in your chair, music forgotten as another stage light shone on you.

“Now come on (Y/N), don’t be shy. I know that I’m somewhat of a local celebrity but I don’t bite.”

You shivered under the Riddler’s gaze and got up, trying your best not to stumble as you walked towards him. Your breathing was labored now and the closer you got to the Riddler, the more you felt like you were going to faint.

“(Y/N) here is going to play a simple game. She’s going to play a song that shows up in the cards,” he held up a large stack of index cards and fanned them out on the podium. The crying from the audience became even louder, with ‘Please, no’s mixed in. You turned to watch the small girl from the restaurant being dragged onto the stage, the bright lights highlighting the tears running down her face.

“And if (Y/N) here cannot play the song or if she plays even a single note or rhythm incorrectly, little Bella here will be dunked into this vat of water. For each mistake, she will be kept there for thirty seconds longer.”

You watched in horror as the girl was dragged towards what looked like a giant hole in the ground filled with water. She struggled against her restraints as she cried, her bleary eyes focused on something over your shoulder. You looked over in the corner of your eye and saw the familiar red and yellow of Robin.

As you turned around to shake the Riddler’s hand in acceptance of the rules, you curled your hand in a fist.

“Let the game begin,” he shouted, smiling at the camera before he went to choose a card.

“I’m sorry but we’re going to have to change the rules,” you said before pulling back your fist and punching him in the jaw.

One hour.

You were hiding in the corner of the stage, hidden by the curtains as you tried to untie Bella. The poor girl was trying to hold her sobs in but some still escaped, sounding misplaced in the sounds of Batman and Robin beating the Riddler & co. into oblivion.

You shushed her and tried to twist the rope and push it through the knot when a birdarang flew through the gap of the curtains and sliced your cheek along with the stray strands of hair nearby before hitting the wood paneling behind you. You ignored the blood that was slowly dripping down your face before grabbing the birdarang. You probably grabbed it wrong since it cut the palm of your hand, making you curse under your breath as you started sawing through the multiple knots in the ropes around Bella’s hands and feet.

Once she was free, the little girl tried to get up and run but you grabbed her, putting a finger up to your mouth and cupping a hand behind your ear, whispering “listen.”

You both sat there, listening to the sounds of Robin giggling as he punched someone. You furrowed your brow at that, wondering who exactly was the boy crazy enough to dress up as a traffic signal and fight crime with an equally weird man dressed as a bat.

You slowly started standing up once the sounds of Robin’s laughter had receded before holding a hand out to Bella. The young girl grabbed your hand and you both started edging your way off of the stage area where the fighting was taking place and towards her parents. Batman and Robin were tying people up when you finally found Bella’s father, the sound of the GCPD’s sirens in the background becoming louder and louder as they came closer.

As you and the other hostages made your way out, making sure to jump across the dock to the other side so you don’t fall into the disgusting water down below, you felt someone grab your wrist. You turned and smiled at Bella’s father.

“Why don’t you go and seek some medical assistance?”

“I will sir,” you replied before making your way to the paramedics, letting them fuss over your cuts. You could see Batman speaking to Commissioner Gordon but you couldn’t see Robin near them.

“I think you have something of mine,” Robin said with a grin as he held his hand towards you. You were surprised to see him in front of you but you smiled at him confused.

“I don’t know what you’re…,” you trailed off when you looked down to where he was pointing to see that you were still holding his birdarang.

“Oh. Well, I don’t know… maybe I should keep it. Something to remind me of this day,” you teased as you held up the birdarang so it was eye-level.

“Alright, you can keep it. Just don’t tell Batsie,” he said with a wink, causing you to giggle. “I’m sorry for cutting you.”

“It’s fine,” you said, wincing as the burning on your wrist became worse. Robin also gave out a hiss of pain at the same time as you, causing you to both stare at each other. You reached your hand out towards him slowly, letting your hands ghost over his cheekbones slightly when you felt the telltale cooling sensation of your wrist.

“Let’s go talk somewhere else,” he said, and you nodded, following behind him to an empty alleyway.

“Let me introduce myself again,” he started taking off his mask, “I’m Dick Grayson.”

You were met with the most beautiful pair of lilac-blue eyes, causing you to catch your breath in the back of your throat.

“And I’m (Y/N).”

“Why don’t we get out of here and get to know each other better, princess?”

“I would like that, love bird.”

#robin #nightwing #robin dick #robin dick grayson #dick grayson #dick grayson oneshot #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x reader imagines #dick grayson x reader imagine #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson imagine #dc imagine #dc imagines #ariadne writes #ariadne does her best to write

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dailyunsolvedmysteries · 3 years ago

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Kenneka Jenkins

Kenneka Jenkins was in a hotel with friends at a party that took place in Room 926 of the Crowne Plaza Chicago O'Hare hotel in Rosemont, a suburb of Chicago. The party started at 11:30 p.m. on Friday, September 8, 2017. An acquaintance who arrived at the party noticed that Jenkins appeared to be swaying back and forth as she embraced him in a hug. Several witnesses reported seeing her drink cognac, but did not see her partake of any marijuana or other drugs. Another witness reported that Jenkins "wasn't acting like her usual self", noting that she would dance a little, but later appeared to be sad and went to go sit down. She was briefly seen with others walking through one of the halls in the hotel. Camera footage later surfaced of Jenkins staggering near the front desk at 3:20 a.m.

About one hour later, Jenkins' friends contacted her mother, Teresa Martin, who arrived at the hotel around 5:30 a.m. to assist in the search. She proceeded to knock on many guests' doors from the top floor to the bottom, until a hotel employee called 911 to complain. Hotel management stated that they could not provide access to video footage from the night before until someone reported Jenkins missing to the police, who officially reported her missing to hotel management at 1:15 p.m. Saturday. Family members later characterized the initial police response as lacking in urgency. A first check of camera footage that focused on entrances and exits turned up nothing, but at 10 p.m., police spotted footage of Jenkins stumbling through the hotel. Her whereabouts remained unknown until she was found in the hotel's freezer and pronounced dead at 12:48 a.m. Sunday. She was found lying face down on her side, with one shoe off. There was no sign of trauma other than a small cut on her foot. The temperature inside the freezer was found to be 34 °F (1 °C) approximately two hours after the doors had been left open.

The freezer, which was on and working, was described as a walk-in freezer within a walk-in cooler, and was part of an unused kitchen. Lights were apparently turned off in both chambers when she entered them. Questions remained as to why the freezer was turned on, although it was reportedly being leased out to a restaurant using space in the hotel. Motion-detecting security cameras showed Jenkins staggering, apparently intoxicated, through the hotel's hallways, eventually arriving at the kitchen, where she rounded a corner towards the freezer. The freezer door itself was out of the camera's sight.

On October 6, 2017, the Cook County Medical Examiner's Office ruled Jenkins' death an accident. The autopsy report found no illegal drugs in Jenkins' system, but her blood alcohol level was found to be 0.112. Traces of topiramate, a drug used to treat epilepsy and migraine headaches, were found in her system, although she was never prescribed this medication. Topiramate taken together with alcohol can enhance the effects of both, and hasten the onset of hypothermia, the presence of which was confirmed by lesions found in Jenkins' stomach. Brain swelling was also observed, but this condition was not associated with the cause of death. The Rosemont police department issued a statement the same day, saying that while no foul play was suspected, their investigation had not yet been completed.

Jenkins' friends' stories remained inconsistent as to exactly what had happened after the party. After she went missing, one friend texted another about how Jenkins was drunk and missing. The reply came back, "Find Kenneka," and "I can't believe ya'll lost her."

In 2018, the family's attorney, Geoffrey Fieger, filed a $50 million lawsuit against the hotel and others. He displayed photos of a freezer door, showing that it had a lock button from the outside, and suggested someone may have inadvertently locked the freezer door. This was contradicted by the security camera, which recorded no other footage since August 30, nor any after Jenkins' footage. The photo seemed not to be of the actual freezer door, which latched shut but apparently had no lock. A white circular handle on the inside, which would have enabled a person to exit on their own, appeared to be in good working order. The attorney asserted that the hotel had the means to lock off the kitchen area, as it had a pair of plywood doors with a padlock. There are theories that she was drugged and taken to the freezer against her will.

#Kenneka Jenkins #true crime #crime #unsolved #unsolved mysteries

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liaswritesrobots · 4 years ago

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You know how idw Megatron was a miner before the war? And miners did not have the best living situation ect. Can i have a scenario in a soulmate AU where miner!Megatron`s soulmate is one of the nobels? (They do not care that he is a miner no matter what other nobels say)

It wasn't often that someone of a Noble title visited the mines. They only really showed up to check in on progress every once in a blue moon. Which is why everyone found it rather odd that you'd go out of your way to visit that Primus awful mining facility almost every deca-cycle.

They would understand if there was some kind of problem, or even if you benefited from these trips, but since the cost to go there and come back was outweighing any kind of gain they found it foolish, especially since you didn't seem to be turning a profit from these trips. It was strange, but if you wanted to waste your own wealth on these little trips then who were they to tell you what you can and cannot do with your own funds?

Normally you'd take these trips alone, with some personal staff of course, but every once in a while one the others went with you. This time Senator Ratbat insisted on taking the trip with you. It's hard to say no to him, as he doesn't really take it for an answer most of the time. This being one of those times.

It made you more cautious on your journey when another of the higher ups went with you, because you now have to make an elaborate excuse of why you're going and why you'll be away for so long with only one trusted bodyguard. It's tiring.

But in the end, it's always worth it. Seeing the smile on your beloved's face as you two sneak off to talk. The way his optics light up when you bring him new datapads to read. The passion of your conversations in private as you lean on each other and make future plans of getting him out of that horrible mine. It's all worth it.

You make it to the mining facility and quickly try to excuse yourself, making up a story about how you have important business to attend to, only for Ratbat to ask to join you. You stop in your tracks, hands clasping each other behind your back as you turn to face him, "I'm terribly sorry but it's a rather private affair. I can show you the progress being made once I return but for now I must depart on my own."

"Nonsense," he exclaims, "All business here is in an equal share. We all profit off of this mine. Unless of course… you're going behind our backs to make a little extra?" He smirks as he circles you, looking you up and down, before blocking the doorway.

You keep your helm forward, never once following his movement with your optics, and respond flatly, "I can assure you that is not the case. I am merely running a routine check on numbers and equipment. The miners cannot mine with broken equipment after all. I take all the broken equipment they show me to repair."

"Ah so that's why you come here so often? To replace equipment?"

"It is one of the reasons, yes."

"And the others?"

"To keep up with the progress that lines our pockets." You respond.

"I see."

"How much longer do you plan on keeping me here? Time is money after all."

"Oh, by all means, do go on ahead," He steps aside, "I would love to see how this works." He says with a cocky smile.

"Again, I have to go alone, save one bodyguard."

"And why is that?"

"The miners don't take too kindly to us visiting. I wouldn't want to be held accountable for anything that happened to you dear Ratbat."

His smile fades, "Is that so? Ungrateful lot then, aren't they?"

You clench your dentae but stay silent.

"In that case I will wait here for you." He says with a toothy grin.

You turn and leave, picking your most trusted bodyguard to accompany you, and you head out towards the mines.

You weren't lying when you said they don't like you Senators being here, but to be honest, you've come to completely understand why. Fortunately, your lover... your sparkmate, has shown you which tunnels to take to let you safely travel to him, the empty ones that have been long used up that lead to a secret hole in the wall that he and Terminus use to hide away from prying optics and audials from time to time.

You leave your bodyguard at the entrance of mines and make your way through the network of abandoned tunnels, finally squeeze past a rafter into the secret hiding spot.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to show up." You hear your lover's voice say with a hint of worry, "I was afraid something had happened to you."

"I am alright, my spark," you say leaning down to where the grey mech is sitting, closing your optics and pressing your forehead against his, "I just got held up on the ship is all."

He leans into your helm bump, placing a servo on your cheek.

"Here," you pause, pulling away and rummaging through your subspace to pull out a datapad, "I brought this for you." You hand him the datapad and sit down on the ground beside him, "It's a collection of poems from all across Cybertronian. It's not even been officially released yet."

"How did you get a hold of this then?" He asks, skimming over it.

"I have my ways," you smile, "It helps to be friends with archivists. Here," you run a digit along the screen, "I think you'll really like the one on page four hundred seventy-five." You say before leaning against the wall and letting him read.

You smile as you watch his optics move over the words, a small grin setting on his face.

"It's beautiful," He says turning his helm to you, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet beloved," you press your helm to his once again, "I haven't gotten you out of here yet."

"I was thinking about that actually."

"Oh?" You look at him with curiosity.

"When you're able to get me out of here… may we bring Terminus with us? And Impactor?"

"Of course!" You answer, "Anything you want, you'll have. And it may take a while, but I promise I'll make sure that I sway the people in your favor so that we can make things better for those here in the mines." You say grasping his servo in your own and kissing the back of it.

Megatron smiles and leans his helm to yours, "I have to get back soon, others will get suspicious," he lets out a sigh, "It seems like our meetings here get shorter and shorter each time."

"Do not worry, my love, soon enough we'll be able to be around each other as much as we please." You kiss the top of his helm before standing up.

"I hope so," He smiles, standing and making his way towards the rafter, "I'll see you again tomorrow before you leave right?" He turns to look at you.

"Of course." You smile so warmly at him and he can feel his spark skip a pulse.

"I'll see you tomorrow then. Be safe, my spark."

"And you too, beloved."

You wait for him to leave before making your way past the rafter and towards the entrance of the mines, humming to yourself as you walk the tunnels.

That's why you didn't hear Ratbat shuffle out from a tunnel just above the one behind the rafter. He watched you leave with a cheerfully devilish grin before dropping down and dusting himself off.

He may not have heard the whole conversation, but he certainly heard enough. A Senator with a miner conspiring together? And they're lovers? This will be the greatest scandal he's shown in eons! He can't wait to come back tomorrow and get some footage of you two together.

#maccadam #macaddam #transformers #Megatron #idw #idw Megatron #Megatron x Reader #MegatronXReader #bot reader #mech reader #Ratbat #my writing #scenarios #asks #anonymous

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isthisthingeven0n · 4 years ago

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who let the kids in? : j.w

brief summary: whilst filming an episode of jeffs barbershop, jeff has an unexpected visitor, or three - his wife and kids who are filming for their family channel

word count: 1.4k requested: yes by a sweet anon, i hope you like it b! warnings: literally none, it’s all fluff

* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0

m y e t s y s h o p

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING

“Mommy, mommy!” You rolled over as you felt a tug on the blanket barely covering your legs. “Mommy, I’m hungry.”

Opening your eyes, a yawn left your lips as you sat upright, seeing Jeff fast asleep beside you with the majority of the blanket over him.

“Hey sweetie,” You smile brightly, trying to fight back the urge to lie down as you swing your legs over the egde of the bed whilst your daughter giggles. “fancy some breakfast, huh?”

Your little girl holds her hand out for you to take as you follow her out from your bedroom, leaving your husband to sleep in as you head down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“What’d you feel like this morning then Maisie?” You kneel down to your daughters level, her brunette hair losely tied back with a scrunchie as she sways from side to side.

Following her gaze, she points over to the box of coco pops. “Can I have those, please?” She asks so sweetly it melts your heart.

As you prepare her breakfast, you hum to yourself. “Looks like you started the day without us?” Jeff walks in with your son in his arms, cradling his head against his shoulder.

“Daddy!” Maisie abandons her breakfast as she runs over to Jeff, wrapping her arms around his legs.

“You gonna say hi to your brother?” Jeff asks as he kneels down, shifting Jasper to face Maisie who gently reaches out for Jaspers closed palm.

“Hi, Jaspy.” She whispers, unaware of you filming snippets of these moments for your channel. “Come on, Mommys making breakfast!” Maisie looks up to Jeff who raises an eyebrow as he rises to his feet, walking over to kiss you good morning.

“When did you get up?” Jeff asks you as he sets Jasper down in his cot, cooing him as he squirms momentarily.

A loud yawn leaves your lips as Jeff glances over his shoulder, chuckling to you. “About 6? Maisie came in wanting breakfast and you looked so sleepy.” You admit as you wrap your arms around Jeff’s waist, resting your head on his chest as you feel his chest rise and fall with laughter.

“Last nights activities wore me out, babe.” He whispers, unaware of you rolling your eyes before pulling away. “Are you alright to go to the park without me today?”

You nod in response, heading over to the coffee machine. “You shooting today?”

Passing Jeff a coffee, he inhales the steam. “Yeah, we’re doing American Psycho, few different guests coming in.” Jeff explains as you take your own coffee, enjoying the brief moment of quiet whilst Maisie eats her breakfast and Jasper naps.

And before you can close your eyes and enjoy the peace, Jasper begins to cry and Maisie has finished her breakfast, holding the bowl up above her head to prove it’s empty. “No, Maisie!” Jeff is too slow to move as droplets of milk land in Maisie’s hair, and she starts crying. “Oh baby, there’s no point crying over some spilt milk.” He sighs, picking her up whilst you go see to Jasper.

Swaying gently with Jasper in your arms, you glance around at the clock. “Jeff,” You speak up as Jeff rises the last of the milk from Maisie’s hair. “you gotta go ready, you can’t be late to your own show.” You remind him as he wears a guilty expression.

“Are you,” He doesn’t even have to finish as you nod, waving him off. “thank you, babe.” He kisses you sweetly before rushing up the stairs whilst you pick up your camera, stopping the recording for the meantime whilst you get the kids ready for the day ahead.

“Is Daddy working, Mommy?” Maisie asks as you walk with the pushchair in front of you, Maisie standing on the platform at the back whilst the cover is concealing Jasper from the bright sunshine.

Nearing the park, you can see kids already playing and laughing. “He is sweetie, that’s why Nerf isn’t joining us on our outting today.” You explain.

See, Maisie doesn’t fully understand what you and Jeff do for work. All she understands is that Jeff goes off to film things whilst you’re able to film at home most of the time alongside him. Your YouTube channel isn’t the typical family vlogging type, you include snippets of your kids within your day instead of having it revolve around them.

“Could we go visit Daddy after we play?” Maisie suggests as you push open the gate and she climbs down.

You pause for a moment, wondering if the content Jeff will be filming is something Maisie could see or not. Then again, she’s been on set when Jeff films countless times, and all the crew love her and Jasper, but then again some are too high to fully notice.

“We’ll see, baby.” You tell her as she runs off, leaving you with Jasper as you take a seat on a bench with your laptop, importing footage to roughly edit whilst Maisie plays in the enclosed park.

An hour passes by and you check your phone, seeing Jeff has texted you to say he’s almost finishing filming for the day.

“Mais, come on baby!” You call out as Maisie waves to some friends she made whilst you sort Jasper out as she skips over to you with a bright smile, her eyes glowing just like her Dad’s.

“Can we go see Daddy now?” Maisie asks once more, and you nod, knowing you can’t so not to her, and Jeff will have a harder time saying no to his little girl.

“Okay, but you gotta be quiet, yeah?” You mumble to Maisie as you stand in the lift and she nods, pressing her finger to her lips and shushes herself whilst you take your camera out.

As you exit the lift, your conversation seems to have left Maisie’s mind as she runs across the corridor to the front door. She knocks loudly, and before you can catch up with the pram, the door opens and Maisie is in.

“What the?” You struggle to hold your smile as you peer through the front door, seeing Jeff stood covered in fake blood whilst Maisie is at his feet, gripping his legs.

“Hi Daddy,” Maisie giggles. “you look funny.”

“Who let my kid in?” Jeff calls out, looking to the crew who shrug their shoulders.

“Might’ve been me.” Jonah admits, holding his hand up whilst Scott remains seated, looking at your daughter as he waves sweetly to her.

Walking in, you smile sheepishly as one of the cameras is facing you. “Hey, babe.” You speak up as you lift Jasper from his pram, walking over and your eyes widen at the sight you’re greeted with. “What the actual fluff?” You ask, covering your mouth with one hand whilst the other cradles Jasper.

“It’s American Psycho baby, gotta go all or nothing.” Jeff holds his hands up in defence whilst you chuckle.

“Hey Scott,” You wave and Scott nods to you.

“Want me to mind Jasper for a minute?” Scott suggests and you nod gratefully, passing your son across to one of his many Uncles as Scott hums one of his tunes to your son.

“Daddy,” Maisie holds her arms up to Jeff, making those grabby hands.

“Oh come on, princess.” Jeff chuckles as he bends down, picking Maisie up as you go to protest, watching as her dress is covered in fake blood. “Oh,” Jeff sighs, realising what has happened as you huff.

“Jeff,” You drag his name out, yet Maisie giggles at the marks covering her pink dress.

“Mommy I’m just like Daddy!” Maisie states proudly, and Jeff raises an eyebrow to you.

“You got all this, right?” You glance over your shoulder to Jonah who nods, having taken your camera once you came in as Jasper woke up.

“Wanna go sort Jasper out whilst I wrap up?” Jeff suggests and you nod.

“Come on Mais,” You call out, but Jeff shakes his head. “you can’t finish filming with Maisie covered in fake blood, the media will have a field day, Jeff.” You remind him as you hold your hand out and he lowers Maisie back to the ground.

“Go on, go to Mommy, sweetie.” Jeff motions to Maisie as she rushes over to your side. “I love you babe!” Jeff calls out sheepishly as you chuckle, walking away from the set.

“I love you too.” You call out, sometimes wondering what you got yourself into all those years ago.

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sturchling · 4 years ago

Text

Adrien Agreste: Ace Attorney

I saw this idea from @lenoreofraven and I loved it. I had to try and write it out!

The class doesn’t just stand by during the Ladybug incident. Instead, they get a trial set up to prove Marinette’s innocence. Adrien becomes Marinette’s defense. What will happen at the trial?

Hope you like it!

Everything was going wrong for Marinette in this moment. Lila had accused her of stealing the answers to yesterday’s test, pushing her down the stairs, and stealing her necklace. Thankfully her classmates didn’t look convinced. And of course, Adrien knew the truth. He hadn’t realized how far Lila would go. He tried to say something to Mr. Damocles, but he was cut off, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you are here by expelled from this school.” Everyone gasped. Lila started smirking, but no one seemed to notice except for Adrien and Alya. Before Marinette was made to leave the building, Adrien interjected, “Wait Mr. Damocles. You can’t just throw her out! This is to fast, and you didn’t ask for Marinette’s side.” This is the moment Lila sealed her fate. She never thought people would agree to this suggestion. She mockingly asked, “What do you want Mr. Damocles to do? Hold a trial?” Alya, jumped on board with the suggestion. Anything to save her best friend. “That is a great idea. We would be able to make sure we punish the right person.” When Mr. Damocles still didn’t look convinced, Nino chimed in, “Also, it would be a great learning experience.” Max jumped in at this point, “This method of teaching the justice system is 98% more effective than a lecture style. It would be very instructive” That was about all Mr. Damocles needed to hear to be convinced.

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

Lila couldn’t believe this was happening. She had been joking when she suggested the trial. She didn’t think the class would push for it so much, or that Mr. Damocles would agree. Now she was stuck. She couldn’t object to the trial without making it obvious that there wasn’t much proof. At first, she was just irritated, but wasn’t worried. She had tricked her class before. She would be able to trick whichever of her classmates ended up on the jury. Then Mr. Damocles announced the plan. Of course, Lila was the witness to all of this, so her role was clear from the start. Mr. Damocles was going to be the prosecutor for the trial. Mrs. Bustier would be the stenographer, to make sure there was a record of the trial. Lila was ok with the setup for the trial so far. Then Mr. Damocles continued, and that is when Lila realized she was in trouble.

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

Mr. Damocles announced, “Ms. Dupain-Cheng may choose one student from her class to act as her defense. Ms. Cesaire will be the court investigator and is in charge of gathering evidence. We won’t be having a jury trial; we will just have a judge decide. Since Mrs. Mendeleiev was not involved in the incident directly, she is the most impartial. Therefore, she will be the judge.” Lila paled hearing this. The science teacher would be a lot harder to convince than a group of students would have been. Marinette wasted no time, asking Adrien to be her defense. This infuriated Lila, and she only got angrier when Adrien agreed. Mr. Damocles said that they trial would be held tomorrow, so everyone had time to prepare. With that, the day was over and everyone went home. Lila went straight home and started rehearsing for her performance tomorrow. It would have to be the most convincing performance she had ever given.

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

The next day, the class gathered in the class room and got ready for the trial. Alya had spent all night gathering evidence. She had wanted to get security footage, but apparently the cameras had been nonfunctional for a while. She gave all the evidence she had gathered to both Mr. Damocles and Adrien so they could read it over before the trial began. Once Mrs. Mendeleiev arrived, the trial began quickly. Lila walked to the front and gave her testimony, “Well, I saw Marinette steal the answers to the test that we took the other day. I didn’t want to get her in trouble, but I eventually decided it wasn’t fair to the rest of the class who worked so hard for their grades, so I sent an anonymous tip to Mrs. Bustier. Then when we were sent Mr. Damocles’ office, Marinette got really mad at me, she yelled at me and was saying stuff like how I shouldn’t have said anything and she would make me pay for this. When we got near the stairs, I felt a pair of hands on my back push me and then I fell down the stairs. I yelled as I fell, and then everyone came out to help. When we got in the office, I finally felt safe enough to tell Mr. Damocles’ that Marinette had stolen a pendent that was passed down to me by my grandmother. When we went down to the locker room, Marinette opened her locker and my necklace fell out.” After Lila was done, she hid her smirk. She had done a brilliant performance. She was sure that she had swayed Mrs. Mendeleiev to believe her. Then Lila heard Mrs. Mendeleiev say, “Thank you for your story Lila. Mr. Agreste, you may cross examine the witness now.” Lila braced herself as Adrien stood up. She just had to keep her story straight and everything would work out.

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

Adrien was prepared for this. He knew that Marinette was innocent. Now he just had to prove it. He walked towards Lila and asked, “First, you said you saw Marinette take the answers. When was this?” Lila answered smoothly, “Why, the day before the test. She stayed in the room after class and when Mrs. Bustier wasn’t looking, she took the answers.” “That is interesting. Because, myself and several other students saw Marinette leave as soon as class was dismissed. I would like to submit this evidence. Sworn statements from seven other students who all say they saw Marinette leave as soon as the school day was done.” Lila looked flustered for a second but quickly composed herself, “Yeah, but she came back to the school and that is when she took the test answers.” Adrien quickly faced Lila again, “Really, because you just said she never left. And we have a written record of that version of your testimony. Another interesting bit of evidence is Mrs. Bustier was sure that she saw the answer key when she left. She locked the door when she left, so Marinette couldn’t have gotten in and taken the answers after that point!” The rest of class started murmuring at this and Lila started to panic. She didn’t think Adrien would be paying attention to every detail, or that Alya would have found all of this evidence in one night.

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

Once order was restored in the classroom, Adrien continued, “Now that we have covered the cheating accusation, lets move on to you accusing Marinette of pushing you down the stairs. First thing to point out, is you just said that you only felt hands on your back, and you didn’t actually see Marinette push you, is that right?” Lila got a bit more confident at this point. Her and Marinette were the only ones in the hall at this time, so it would be hard to disprove. “Yes, that is right. I may not have seen her, but it had to be her. There was no one else there.” “And yet, when you originally spoke to Mr. Damocles you specifically said that Marinette pushed you down the stairs, which suggests you saw her.” Mr. Damocles yells, “Objection, she never said she saw Marinette push her, just that she was pushed. And Marinette was the only likely suspect, as she was the only one present.” Adrien got frustrated hearing that, but moved on, “Ok, but there is still another problem with your story. You claim to have been pushed down the stairs. That makes a lot of noise. But even though this supposedly happened right outside Mr. Damocles door, and Mr. Haprele in the courtyard, no one heard anything until you started yelling.” Lila started to stammer, trying to come up with an excuse, but Adrien didn’t give her a chance, “Another thing that is important to note, falling down the stairs would cause a lot of injury. Bruises and scrapes and other very obvious injuries. The only injury you claimed was a hurt knee. However, within a few minutes of the incident, despite you claiming that your knee was hurting severely, you were able to walk normally.” The classroom erupted, as people discussed this new revelation. Adrien was right. By the time that everyone came to search Marinette’s locker, everyone saw Lila walking normally. Lila was becoming increasingly nervous as this trial went on. She was watching her whole story fall apart. She noticed that everyone was looking at her doubtfully now. Lila knew that everything rested with the last claim now, she had to be careful.

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

Adrien continued his cross examination, feeling more confident by the minute that he would win, “Regarding the last accusation, you accused Marinette of stealing your necklace? The one that has been passed down through your family?” Lila replied, making her voice choke up like she is about to cry, “Yes, that necklace means the world to me. It was given to me by my grandmother and we all saw it come out of Marinette’s locker. I wish I had been wrong; I don’t want to think she could be so cruel.” Adrien smirked, “Interesting. You claim it is from your grandmother, but when we look at the necklace, we can see the Gabriel logo. This necklace is from his new jewelry line. It couldn’t have been passed down through the family like you claimed!” Lila got frazzled at this point and burst out, “What does it matter if it isn’t an heirloom. The point is that Marinette stole it. It was in her locker, it had to be her that stole it!” Adrien yelled, “Hold it! These are the same lockers that have been broken into time and time again. Chloe got into Marinette’s locker to get the present that Marinette made Mrs. Bustier. Alya got into Chloe’s locker when she thought Chloe was Ladybug. There aren’t even any locks on them. It is completely possible that someone else put it in the locker to frame Marinette.” Everybody realized Adrien was right. Those lockers have never been locked; anyone could have put the necklace in there.

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

Mr. Damocles stood up and asked, “Ms. Rossi, is there any reason that you are sure Marinette did all this. Any reason that Marinette might have to hurt you?” Lila saw her opportunity; this could be how she gets out of this. “Yes. Marinette is jealous of me since I’m closer to Adrien. She feels threatened because she and Adrien are just friends but Adrien and I are-” Adrien jumps up, “Objection!” Mrs. Mendeleiev turns to him and asks, “Yes, Mr. Agreste?” Adrien states, “Marinette isn’t just a friend,” Everyone in Mrs. Bustier’s class holds their breath. Could this be the moment that Adrien admits his feelings? Adrien continues, “Marinette is a very good friend.” Everyone in the class groans. False alarm. So, Adrien is going to be dense for another day, Adrienette won’t be happening today. Even Mrs. Mendeleiev seems put out by how oblivious this boy is. “Mr. Agreste, while I appreciate that Marinette is a good friend, lets try to stick to the matter at hand.”

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

After all of this, the trial ended quickly. Mrs. Mendeleiev ruled in Marinette’s favor. She said that not only did Adrien make a good argument, but Lila kept contradicting herself. Mrs. Mendeleiev also suggested that Lila’s mother be contacted, since she had been lying about this it was possible that she had been lying about some of her other ailments. Lila was horrified, how could everything have gone so wrong. Lila was led away to the office to wait for her mother. Marinette was busy celebrating have proven her innocence when Mr. Damocles walked over to her group, “Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I wanted to apologize for blindly believing the accusations.” After he told Marinette that she could of course return to school, he went to go deal with Lila and her mother.

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

It was quickly after that meeting that it was revealed that Lila had been lying ever since she arrived in Paris. Lila was expelled because of her truancy and Marinette wasn’t sure what happened to Lila after that. She never saw Lila around Paris again though. Marinette was so grateful to her class for believing her and for getting that trial to prove her innocence. Adrien enjoyed being Marinette’s defense, and now wondered if he should become a lawyer. His friends started jokingly calling him Adrien the attorney after the trial. Adrien was just glad that he could protect his friend. Adrien had warned Lila. Don’t mess with his friends or you will have to face Adrien Agreste, Ace Attorney.

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flooffybits · 4 years ago

Text

My Baby

Idol: Kim Jungeun (Loona)

Kim Lip didn’t think she could listen to Stylish in a different way, nor did she think she could fall deeper in love.

Author’s note: This just popped up and I’ve been wanting some Loona content

Yerim was skipping toward the practice room with Jinsoul and Chaewon, camera in hand and recording the three of them as they walked. “Let’s see what the members are doing!” She squealed as they neared the room and Chaewon walked ahead to take a peek, just in case any mishap was going on that could not be included in the footage.

When she reached the door, she immediately saw the usual chaos already ensuing with Sooyoung pestering Hyejoo and Jiwoo cheering from the side. Yeojin was just laughing at the three while she was hugging Jiwoo.

Off to the side, Haseul and Kahei were practicing the choreography of Satellite just so they could recall the steps. Heejin and Jungeun were at the side, probably talking about their schedule or what they would be eating for later, and then you and Hyunjin were to the side, both quietly watching the whole thing unfold whilst the latter was also listening to you while you played the guitar.

“Welcome to the daily life of Loona!” Jinsoul said with a flourish and Chaewon went to join the two eldest members after she helped her best friend from Sooyoung’s clutches.

They were sure the editor would have fun with the subtitles and captions in their video again, and that Orbits were used to the mess that would happen wherever they went, but it was still fun for them to put out as much content as they could because of BlockBerry having to restrict them so much.

“Our members are working so hard.” Jinsoul said in faux amazement when Yerim pointed the camera to the three girls, dancing to the side, before coming near the calming Hyejoo and Jiwoo. Sooyoung was laughing on the floor while Hyejoo looked like she was ready to end her leader at that moment.

Yeojin looked up and waved happily to the camera. “Hello! Is this Loona kick?” She asked when she came closer and Yerim made a noise at the close up, giggling as she pulled back. “Hello! Hello!” Jiwoo suddenly came up, waving both hands happily.

“We thought you would already be practicing when we get here.” Jinsoul explained as she sat down next to Hyejoo. “We did, before unnie decided to take a break. Now, everyone is just on their own.” The younger girl said while gesturing around them.

When Yerim panned the camera around again, she smiled when she saw you again, noticing that you were singing and Hyunjin was just listening, nodding along while Heejin and Jungeun came over, apparently having heard you as well.

Neither you or Hyunjin were aware of the attention that was caught by your little performance. When Heejin sat beside Hyunjin, the latter quickly looked over before she was smiling and bringing a finger to her lips, making the two nod as they quietly settled nearby.

Jungeun thought of just sitting directly in front of you, seeing that you were too busy with keeping your eyes on the chords. It was adorable, she thought, how you were so focused on the things you did.

But as you sang more of the group’s song, she finds herself smiling even more, lightly humming as she brought her knees to her chest. It was a song she didn’t think much on, previously, but to hear you singing it right now made her think that this just may be her new favorite.

Hey, you’re shining, you’re my style

Clearly, I’ll make you mine, mine

The older girl caught the slight smile that made its way to your face while you sang and it made her melt inside to see such a serene look on your face. It had been a while since she’s seen you so peaceful like this since you’ve all been busy with the newest album and performances.

At that moment, you could feel eyes on you and decided to finally lift your head to see that most of your members have gathered around you, all of them smiling as they listened to you.

When you nearly stopped in surprise, but Haseul was gesturing happily for you to go on. So, taking in a deep breath, you continued to sing the song, seeing the encouragement the girls were sending you through their smiles, swaying and humming along.

But as your eyes landed on the girl situated in front of you, the same fond smile appeared on your face and it looked like you were singing it for her while you mirrored each others expression.

She had shyly ducked her head, biting back a giggle while you continued the song. Your eyes have shifted away, back to the guitar on your lap, but the girls have all caught on to the little exchange.

It hasn't been that long since you've both admitted to liking each other, and all of the girls have been very supportive of your relationship. They had poked some fun with you two, especially when you were filming or out in public, because it would be so obvious yet they could play it off as a joke.

Everyone has made assumptions about the two of you, but with the many different ships in the group, people didn't think it was real since there was still Lipsoul, Chuulip, and some other of Jungeun's ship, while you had yours where you were mainly paired off with Heejin, Haseul, or Yerim.

It was right in everyone's faces and they didn't know.

But at that moment, it was the privacy of your group, but mainly yours. Yerim had put away the camera a little after she sat down and just enjoyed the song because she knows that even if she did film, there was no way it would be going out to the public.

I have the courage to make you

I have the courage to make you mine

As the song started to end, Jungeun suddenly jumped in with her own part, grinning at you when she saw the surprise on your face and the girls giggled when she sang.

My baby

Her soft and melodic voice echoed along with the guitar and you just sat there in silence while the eleven girls clapped and cheered, Jungeun staring at you with that same smile.

It didn't even bother either of you when the girls started to be loud again because it was like you were stuck in your own little world. While they had scurried off to their feet and resumed their own things, Jinsoul couldn't help but jab at you, both. "Just kiss already. We won't judge!"

That made Jungeun groan and rub her forehead while you laughed and adjusted yourself, letting the latter sit next to you instead when you began to randomly play a few chords. She rested her head against your shoulder and you stop plucking at the strings to take her hand in yours.

"You know, I didn't think we'd ever get an acoustic version for Stylish, but you somehow managed to do it perfectly." She stated softly before chuckling. "Now, I'm going to forever be pissed they didn't let us make an official acoustic version for it."

You giggled at her claim before pressing a light kiss to the tip of her nose, making her crinkle it as her eyes shined brightly. "We could always make our own." You suggest and she hums thoughtfully, playing with your fingers.

"That could work."

"Of course it would. Since when have we made a bad song?"

She laughs at your playful tone, giving you a light shove before shaking her head. "Well, you're not wrong."

#girl group #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #loona #loona scenarios #loona imagines #loona kim jungeun #loona kim lip #kim lip #kim lip loona #kim jungeun #kim lip scenario #kim lip imagines

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btsmosphere · 4 years ago

Text

The Web | PJM

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

~summary: Nearly dying was just the beginning. While struggling to deal with the direction life has thrown you, you find yourself at the heart of a web of conspiracy. Maybe it will bring you back to Jimin - if you both make it out alive. Jimin x reader ~word count: 4.8k ~mafia au, established relationship, angst, eventual fluff?(in future parts) Rating: pg15 Warnings: violence, breaking and entering, guns, death, injury, lots of running ~a/n: part 3 let’s get itttt! I had great fun writing this part :) I do have to be honest here tho, motivation has been a little low this week, and the interaction on this story is kind of getting to me. Please please don’t be a silent reader if you enjoy the story, comment and reblog! To everyone who has been sharing and commenting, thank you so much!! I appreciate it all x

this post is a repost for tags!! i would appreciate if you interact with this part 3

Squashed up against the cold metal of the van door, your other shoulder jostled with Sorrell's. There were a small group of you inside, seated on the floor of the vehicle, which was none too comfy as it bumped over holes in the road, making you all sway as one.

Besides the rumbling engine, however, you were silent. You doubted any of them knew each other at all; you were perhaps the only one with a connection here.

Earlier on, Sorrell had led you to the main warehouse floor where the others would join you. Like you, they seemed to emerge from the woodwork, slipping through doors they were clearly well practised in sneaking through.

You weren't honouring your wish to stay alive as well as you had hoped when you made the resolution.

As you leaned against the wall, hood as low over your face as it could be, you had begun to wish you had kept going last night, and left this all behind. It was a lucky thing you hadn't been a known operative of bangtan, or you may well be dead already.

Though it was a relief to be handed the dark cloth of a balaclava, it still made you pause before putting it on. Staring at the material, gaping facelessly back at you, you recalled how many times you had run from people clad in these, how many had fired at you. How many you had shot in return.

But there was no turning back.

You were yet to receive instructions, but no one seemed too anxious about this so you forced yourself to play along, slouching against the rear of the van. All you could do was wait for the inevitable calming of the engine, the slowing of the wheels...

When it finally came, you followed Sorrell's lead as she stood up, being sure to stay in the middle of the pack as you congregated on a dark path. One you instantly recognised.

So far, it seemed your hunch was correct.

This alley was barely a street away from bangtan's headquarters, somewhere you never thought you would be seeing again.

Stuffing your hands in your pockets, away from the cold, you looked around as the front door of the van slammed shut, splitting the quiet of the night. The only sound that could be heard was the faint bumbling of traffic, over which you could easily hear the darkwater leader stomping towards you.

A pile of fabric was dropped at your feet. Curiously, it clanged as it hit the floor.

"Take these bags," he ordered, "you are burglars, okay? Each of you should have a loaded pistol, in case something goes wrong, but just go in and stick to the areas we tell you. Take stuff if you really want, but don't leave your place. Understand?"

The barest mumble of agreement went up as the bags were collected from the ground.

With a frown, you opened yours. Rummaging inside, you easily found the gun, which you stashed at your waist. However, something else was in there too.

Fishing out the piece of paper, you saw the others do the same. Smoothing out the creases, you studied it.

You had seen these plans before.

Not that you needed to, given you knew the building inside out, but these specific plans. They had been lying on Kwangsu's desk before he tried to kill you. Finally getting to see them up close, you brought them right up to your nose, eyes flicking over every detail of bangtan he had mapped out. Where the vents were, the entrances and exits, even secret ones. He had all the codes, all the hiding places.

Instead of a warm gratification, you felt numb. You would have thought some sort of sense of accomplishment might have eased your worry, after learning you were right all along.

But no.

Because all this meant was Jimin and your friends were sharing their home with a traitor.

"Got it?" the man barked, startling you. Looking around at the vague nods, you hurriedly replicated them and followed the pack as they began to move.

Surreptitiously glancing at the paper in your hand, you turned your attention at last to the actual directions. Your group was set to travel through the main hall and take the middle floor of the building. The designated stations marked on the map formed a border of sorts, a line cutting through the place. The line ran between all of bangtan and the boardroom. And in the boardroom…

Lay le déluge.

Of course, that was not included in the map, but you knew full well where it was.

At a nudge from Sorrell, you upped your pace, having fallen a couple of steps behind the group. Having been alerted to where the cameras were, they made a beeline around the view of one such eager eye, blocked in part by a car that was parked there anyway.

Next, pressing against the cold brick of the perimeter wall, you crept closer to the gate which would lead you down, underneath the main building to its lower bunker. This was essentially used as a garage, but now it was to be your passage in.

Slipping through the gate with easy use of the code, you stopped just inside the entrance.

Though huddled together, no warmth permeated you. Your eyes constantly darted around the space, despite being in near total darkness. And you weren’t the only one. The only thing visible was the small red light of a camera, blocking your path.

A collective breath was released as the light died, leader waving you on.

Passing under the device, you looked up at it with a frown. Kwangsu must be inside, turning them off.

Gritting your teeth, you turned your eyes to the path ahead.

Winding your way up and through passages you had only seen a handful of times, the first few began to break away. Kwangsu had been busy. He knew exactly which paths were rarely used. The downside of having such a well-defended maze of a base: it had deadly potential when used against you.

Finally, Sorrell slipped through a doorway, leaving you completely alone.

Having memorised your intended position, you didn’t need your map to get there. As your feet fell on the carpeted halls, you got the sense you were in a museum. Memories from the past hung on the walls, untouched in revered silence.

At last, the correct door revealed itself and you moved towards it, quickly concealed in shadow.

Willing your eyes to adjust, you tapped your foot slowly. You couldn’t just wait here while Kwangsu was on the move, getting exactly what he wanted.

With no way of telling what the others were doing, you prayed none of them would leave their places. They were supposed to be staging a burglary, messing up their areas, almost certainly as a cover for the real treasure to be taken.

Sucking your lower lip into your mouth, you trod silently across to the other exit of the room. This way lead to the surveillance room.

Your every nerve was on edge as you crept further away from your post, fully aware Kwangsu had been working the cameras not long ago. You didn’t want to run across him.

From somewhere behind you, a muffled crash startled you into stillness.

It could have come from any one of the people in this building.

Not having any time to stop and calm down, you bit your tongue determinedly and pushed on. When the camera room was in sight, you flattened your body against the wall as you encroached.

It was dark inside, like the rest of the house, the light wavering from the computer screens lining the walls.

Holding your breath, you slid right up to the door, as close as you dared, and listened.

Silence.

Hand finding its way to the weight of your gun against your body, you looked around the corner.

And stared in horror.

Recoiling, you pressed the back of your hand hard against your mouth, making every effort not to gag. Even in the low light, you could see the blood oozing from the neck of the person slumped in the operating seat.

But you had to go in.

Averting your eyes, you stepped inside. You didn’t want to know who it was. It couldn’t be one of the boys, but it was likely to be someone you knew.

You were going to make sure Kwangsu paid.

Despite your hatred, you had to admit he was smart. Being the one room without cameras inside, filled with screens instead, this was the perfect place to get away with murder.

Forcing breaths out evenly, your eyes scanned over every screen in turn, noting the ones that stared back, blank, having been disactivated.

The sheer quantity of footage laid out in front of you was overwhelming, but you forced yourself to take the screens in one by one, dark room after empty space, until you finally found motion.

In one of the hallways this side of your border, Kwangsu was practically jogging towards the boardroom. But he wasn’t there yet. Constantly glancing over his shoulder, his hands fiddled with his shirt cuffs as he paced it out of shot of the first camera.

You crossed the room quickly to the next screen he emerged on, trying to assess his route.

The cocky bastard was right out in the open! No secret passages, no hidden corridors – he was hot-footing it up the main staircase.

It was the most direct route after all, and he did have cover.

You had to get to him.

But as you shot one last glare at the screen, preparing to give chase, a flicker caught your eye on the screen beside it. One of the bedroom doors had opened.

Bangtan knew.

You turned and ran.

Following in Kwangsu’s steps, you found the halls empty, silent bar your panting breaths as you rushed through them. The closer you got to the boardroom, the more danger there was of running into him.

At last, your nerve gave out and you broke away, taking another passage that led around the side.

Slowing your pace as you reached the final door, behind which lay the boardroom, you trod carefully, pushing it open softly. Your face was hot underneath the fabric covering it, but you kept your eyes trained on the growing crack of light as the door opened.

Cool metal rested under your fingertips as you readied your gun.

Your muscles were poised to move any second, but you forced them to wait. Once the door finally left enough space to look into the room beyond, you found precisely what you were looking for. If only you had been gifted a camera as well as a gun.

Kwangsu had his back to you, currently lifting the majestic painting from its place at the head of the room.

Your gun raised, finding its target with practised ease. You took a breath.

Time you never should have wasted.

The unmistakeable sound of a gunshot rang out, but it hadn’t come from you. Reacting in an instant, you jumped back behind the cover of the door, only hoping Kwangsu had turned slower.

Somewhere in the depths of the house, the sound of something smashing was soon overtaken by another shot, then another. A burst ricocheted through the building before quiet reigned again.

But only for a moment.

Over the pounding of your heart, the sound of a door.

“Hey!” a shout went up as the main door to the roomed slammed shut again.

Pushing the door as much as you dared, you watched as a man, face covered in dark fabric like you, marched down the centre of the room. It was so alien to see a darkwater in the middle of such a space, a black abyss within the normally warm room.

But where long windows usually shed golden light, now there was only shadow as the man reached Kwangsu.

“They’re onto us,” he muttered roughly, “just give me that and get back there.”

The painting changed hands.

“Hold on, wait,” Kwangsu stopped him as he made to move.

Eyes widening, you froze in place. Had he seen you?

“I’m meant to look like I’ve been fighting you off,” he said instead.

Hurriedly placing the large artwork against the desk, the other man readied his fist. He may have – literally – asked for it, but seeing the punch land on Kwangsu’s face gave you some sort of grim satisfaction.

But now the painting was on the move again, bangtan’s future possibly leaving along with it as the man melted away through a doorway at that end of the room.

Gunshots shattered the night again, scattered and irregular, before fading again.

It was enough to prompt Kwangsu into motion though, and you pulled back once again as he made his way back across the room.

Back falling against the wall, your breaths filled the darkness. Le déluge was going in one direction, and the traitor in the other. One headed out, one back in.

You pushed away, new destination locked in your mind.

As you ran through the halls towards the sound of gunfire, your own stayed firm in your hand.

He had to be here somewhere – as rooms flew past, you looked into each doorway, each time met with emptiness.

Even the shouts and gunshots that grew louder did not deter you. The blood racing through your veins was boiling. Kwangsu was not going to get away from you.

Tearing through a room, knowing it to be a shortcut to the thick of the fight, you spilled out the other side and instantly staggered back at the sight of a body slumped on the floor. Blood was leaking into the carpet, the figure completely motionless.

Your breaths scrambled in your throat, overtaking themselves as you tore your eyes away. You couldn’t even see their face, as it was covered just like yours.

Suddenly, bullet spray littered the corridor to your left, and you were off again, nearly tumbling over as your feet stumbled to get away. Flinging yourself around the next corner, you sprinted past a smashed up desk in the hallway, small shards of glass probably sticking into your shoes as you veered around a fallen artwork.

Chucking a glance over your shoulder as you raced around the next bend, you were oblivious to the startled man in front of you.

When you looked forwards again, your limbs froze in place for a terrifying split-second before you were backpedalling, skidding back around the corner.

Taehyung.

Tae, your friend, who was now chasing after you, bullets flying in the air.

There was no way you could outrun Taehyung. Or any of bangtan, but he was the one you had to worry about right now. At least it wasn’t Jungkook, but that wasn’t much consolation as your feet pounded on the floor, body moving as fast as you could push it.

In a desperate attempt to escape, you dashed through rooms, taking every turn you could, but Taehyung knew this place as well as you, footsteps not getting any further away. In fact, he was gaining on you.

Your burning legs were powerless to carry you any faster.

Flinging yourself into yet another room, you dived to the floor, sliding under a desk beside the door. Keeping your gasping breaths silent was nearly impossible, but you couldn’t keep going. Tae’s heavy steps were about to reach you-

“Taehyung!”

You gulped at the sound of Jimin’s voice.

“We need to get to the boardroom.”

Hobi.

As Taehyung abandoned his hunt, rushing away with the others, you slumped back against the wall. Air left you in bursts as you tried to recover.

Knowing that by now you might well too late, you climbed to your feet, bracing your arm against the wall for support. You had let Kwangsu slip through your fingers. He had definitely had enough time to rejoin the others and tell them his twisted version of events.

You wouldn’t be able to take them all on.

Chewing your lip, you cast your eyes longingly at the hallway to your left, where Taehyung and the others had left for the boardroom.

But you couldn’t risk it.

Jogging away, you let your feet carry you down a staircase, closer to the exit. As you reached the bottom, a figure walked from a doorway, cutting into your path.

“Sorrell?”

“We need to go,” she said, leaving no room for argument as she grabbed your arm.

Allowing her to lead you, the two of you hurried further down towards the bunker level where you had entered. Even as you moved in shadow, you could see her clutching onto her upper arm.

“Are you hurt?” you questioned.

“Doesn’t matter,” she brushed off, voice tense.

Frowning, you hurried after her as she upped her pace. At last you emerged through the gate, thankful it hadn’t yet been secured.

It didn’t take long to reach the sanctuary of the backstreets, but Sorrell didn’t let up her speed, leaving you trailing as you wove your path away from bangtan’s base. Her grip on her arm equally stayed steadfast.

“Seriously, are you okay?” you called.

She looked back, irritated.

“I can help,” you insisted, “please, let me. Did they shoot you?”

“Yes,” she muttered. It sounded like her teeth were gritted.

“When we get back to the van, I’ll clean it, okay?” you decided, “we can find something for a bandage-“

“The van isn’t here.”

“…what?”

“They don’t pick us up after jobs,” Sorrell said without looking at you. She had a way of speaking that made it sound like you had missed something incredibly obvious.

“They- they’ve left us?”

“Yes,” she was exasperated now. “Let’s just get back.”

“Maybe we should stop? You’re hurt.”

Silence answered you. Her eyes were fixed on the floor jaw locked and lips pursed.

A frown creased your own face.

“Sorrell-“

“I’m fine.”

If you weren’t mistaken, her voice wobbled, but she seemed determined. Sighing, you dropped the matter, resigning yourself to the journey back to the warehouse. Though you kept an eye on her, she stayed at least an arm’s length from you as you walked in silence.

But you were tired too, and didn’t have the energy to fill the space.

The walk was long. By the time you reached the warehouse, you slipped through deserted corridors to the room you had previously slept in. Of course, you were well aware the building was not as dark and deserted as it appeared, since the gang had come away with their intended treasure.

Somewhere beyond the few hallways you saw on your way up, the gang would be hard at work. A nest of hornets, their nectar secured in the centre.

Despite the exhaustion setting into your body, you ended up lying awake on the hard floor. Knowing the fruits of Kwangsu’s labour, the stolen painting, was just floors away, refused to leave your mind.

But you weren’t in any position to make a move now.

It was impossible to prevent your mind replaying earlier events. You had been so close, if only you pulled the trigger sooner, if only you had caught him somehow…

Rolling over, you suppressed a groan for Sorrell’s sake. It was too late now, but you didn’t know what you could do next. Sorrell had been good to you, but the thought of staying with darkwater made you uneasy. Morals aside, they treated people like you so badly you would never be able to build yourself up to anything if you stayed.

However, a small but insistent voice wouldn’t quit reminding you that perhaps you ought to leave bangtan to fight their own battles now. Now they had left you behind.

It was with the constant storm of thought swirling in your mind that you finally found rest, albeit sporadic. Every now and then, you would wake again, same old battered roof staring down at you until you were pulled under once again.

Another such time, your eyes cracked open, internally cursing your inability to sleep-

And then you froze.

This was definitely not like the other times you had woken up.

Someone was muttering something.

“She left her post- that’s how bangtan broke through…”

Through bleary eyes, you came face-to-face with several pairs of boots. Quickly alerted, your gaze travelled upwards.

Standing in front of you, fronted by Sorrell, were three darkwater members. Well, you could only assume that was who they were, as you had no more time to think on it before they were lunging for you.

Springing to your feet, you scrambled away. As your hand automatically found your bag, your eyes travelled to Sorrell, filled with panic.

One glance at her expressionless face was all you got before you were running.

You had done too much running lately.

The thought was only fleeting, just like the floorboards beneath you as you sprinted away from your pursuers, further into the building. Up, up, following the path Sorrell had taken you the night before, the only route you knew – but it could only take you so far.

Flying through the doorway to the room you had slept in before, you turned your head wildly. There was only one way out, and then you were dashing through it and into the unknown territory beyond.

Down stairs this time, and through corridors that gradually looked more modern, like they were actually lived in.

The smattering of noise behind you let you know you still had company. But that soon doubled as a couple of guards strolled from a doorway just up ahead. Skidding to a halt, you launched yourself in the opposite direction, only just making it to another doorway before the group chasing you emerged too.

Before long, you had reached the perimeter of the building again, windows whizzing past as you pushed down the hall.

The next corner you arrived at would only take you further into the building again. You didn’t want to attract any more attention than you already had.

Call it stupid, but your mind was running by itself. Sparing a moment to throw your bag across the floor, contents spilling out as if you had dropped it on the run, you turned to the window instead.

And jumped.

Below, there was a structure built against the main body of the warehouse. It served to shorten your fall, but you still felt the impact as you landed, bruises certainly collecting beneath your skin.

The wooden rood was even less sturdy than that on the warehouse, sagging alarmingly under you. Not daring to stand back up, you scooted yourself as far as you could to the edge and dropped down the remaining few feet.

Though you hoped that would have shaken them off, you could never be sure who was still watching, and so you resumed running, panting now as you forced your feet once more to a blur beneath you.

True darkness gathered around you as you moved further from the highway streetlights.

Still, you did not stop.

A small track ran along the back of the property, a patch of trees beyond it. On the other side of that, you finally allowed yourself to ease up the pace, heading around the fences of the industrial area you found yourself in.

Yanking your hood up, you made your way past factories and warehouses – ones that were actually in use. They probably had cameras.

You almost had yourself convinced that you slowed to a walk to look less suspicious.

Almost.

Really, you were tired.

Physically, your muscles felt the strain of your recklessness, the constant running away from danger. But perhaps that tendence was helping preoccupy you from the real blow.

No destination fixed in your mind, you let your feet wander. It wasn’t until you saw the artificial light from a kebab van on the corner that you knew where you were going.

As you walked below the launderette sign, you trapped your lip between your teeth. Things might have been so much simpler if you had just let that kind woman call Jimin…

Now, things were too complicated. You may well be on Kwangsu’s radar now, a notion that made you shudder.

Perhaps you should have got in touch while you had the chance, before everything spiralled out of control. Of course, there was the slight fact holding you back that Jimin apparently wanted you dead.

But now you saw that was surely another of Kwangsu’s lies.

Yes, you had argued. You had disagreed, but that wasn’t like Jimin. And, yes, he was a mafia operative, well used to killing, but you had shared years together. It made no sense for him to turn his back on you so suddenly.

There was no way, back when you met, that he could have been fake. He would have shown some emotion, anything. You wanted desperately to believe he would have fought for you, just as you would for him in a heartbeat.

Before Kwangsu got involved, you had something real, and as much as he might have trusted Kwangsu (despite your warnings), he wouldn’t put what you had aside for the sake of a friend.

Nearing the bridge, you stared up at the imposing structure. It wasn’t too far above the water, and you remembered having time straighten out, brace for impact-

With a heavy sigh, you let yourself rest at last in the shadow underneath.

At first, your mind had been riddled with Kwangsu’s words, terrified as you were forced to defend yourself and focus on surviving. You hadn’t thought to question the integrity of his words, which you now highly suspected were false.

Though you were wary of him before, this was so much bigger than you had imagined. You had no idea when you went to his study that night that he was a member, a seemingly important one at that, of darkwater. They were probably the only people he had been honest to.

Resting the weight of your head on your hands, you prayed you were right. If you wanted to save Jimin, you had to believe yourself. You had to believe in him.

The remnants of a café. Tables overturned, chairs on their sides, glass shattered.

There are bodies. Bodies clad in black, balaclavas over their faces. You don’t even have to check their arms – it must be the doing of darkwater.

You wished you had checked their arms. Just like the bodies inside their base right now, they would be blank. They were just crash dummies, disposable and faceless.

“Thanks, Kwangsu. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t spotted them on your way here.”

“No problem, no problem at all. I’m just glad nothing happened to you, these guys are scary.”

Jimin laughs.

Folded arms, stubborn across your chest

“I’m just saying, why don’t you send me? You trained me yourself.”

“Kwangsu has enough experience. Back in high school, he was with me at my first ever drug deal. He started at the same time.”

Jimin’s grin, so assured.

“He’s just a petty thief-“

“So no-one knows he’s connected to us. He won’t be recognised. This is in a busy area, Y/N, and I won’t have you getting hurt.”

Your sigh; Jimin’s arms around you.

“Y/N, why won’t you lay off? He’s proved himself enough times.”

“Hey, I don’t want to get in the way of you guys-“

“No, Yoongi’s right,” Jimin defends.

You gape at him.

Kwangsu meets your eyes as you leave the room.

A distant bang shakes you, cutting through your spinning head. Tensing, you turn towards the source of the noise, though it came from well within the city on the other side of the bridge.

The noise isn’t alone. Someone is probably fighting.

As the whirlwind in your head clears, a frown grows on your face. Given the direction the gunshots are coming from, you can only presume the fight is in red clan territory. Maybe they are fighting bangtan.

For a moment, you are reminded of Jimin. You know just how he stands in battle, having fought beside him, hidden breathless around corners with adrenaline pulsing through your veins.

If your body wasn’t quite so defeated, you might have gone closer. Jimin fighting alone wasn’t a thought you could stomach. Right now, there wasn’t too much of the world you could stomach.

And so you let your eyes slide closed, falling asleep to the sound of gunfire.

Thank you for reading! Again, please let me know if you liked it! Don’t be a silent reader💜

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knit-wear-it · 4 years ago

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AU: Training Day

Mood: In the Pantomime 17 (AO3), Ed is released from his bathtub prison so Jarley can send him off to do their bidding while they hide out at Lee’s. In an alternate universe, Harley & Ed spar together in Lee’s living room instead of having a serious conversation about Vicki Vale.

Rating: Crack / Lolz / Jarley Fluff / AU

AU: Training Day, A Harlequin-Tumblr Exclusive

Ed slept on the couch while Lee took the bed in her spare room, and Ed listened in the dark for the Joker and Harley to talk or fuck or do something, but it appeared they were just sleeping. Boring.

Then in the morning, Harley reappeared, not looking particularly refreshed, and wearing a sporty combination of the electric-blue leggings from the day before with a neon orange sports bra, showing off a very hot little body indeed. Ed pouted at her flat stomach, jealous because he had this little pooch that he just couldn't get rid of.

“Damn, girl,” Ed smirked, giving her his best impression of entitled toxic masculinity. “You’re—“

Harley slapped Ed across the face, making him gasp.

“Cut that shit out, Ed,” she snapped, mommy style. “This is fucking serious.”

Behind her, the Joker was watching as he smoked out the window, just looking… very unimpressed. He caught Harley’s eye, and something silent passed between them, and Ed knew they were both thinking they were wasting their time with him.

“Okay, okay,” he said in a rush. “I’m sorry, it’s the ADHD, I’ll concentrate, I promise. Tell me what to do.”

“I’ve seen footage of you fighting Black Canary and you’ve fought me,” Harley said grimly. “You’re strong, you’re fast, and you have some moves. Where did you learn to fight?”

“Where did I learn to fight?” Ed squinted at her, bewildered.

“If we’re going to work together we need to train together so we can fight together,” Harley explained, nearly making Ed swoon.

“I wrestled in high school,” he mused, trying to be serious. “Since then, mostly Soulcycle, pilates, and box fit.”

Harley’s eyes widened incredulously. “Box fit?”

“Yeah, like,” Ed bounced from one foot to the other, showing her his moves. “Jab, jab, cross! Uppercut! And... shimmie!” He swung his hips from side to side, bouncing on the spot as Harley stared at him like he’d sprouted a second head.

“You learned to box from an aerobics class?” she demanded.

“Well yeah,” Ed rolled his shoulders back, feeling judged. “Where did you learn to fight?”

“Twenty years of gymnastics, an underground Irish boxing club, and a teenage karate prodigey,” she snapped.

“Oh,” Ed’s eyes widened. “So you should really be better than you are, right?”

The Joker snorted and turned away to smoke out the window to avoid Harley’s lethal glare.

“Alright,” Harley sighed, looking around.

She sourced a roll of duct tape and a pair of throw pillows from the couch, then taped them to Ed’s hands, and with Lee’s help, taped a pair around hers too. It all looked very silly but Ed tried to remain serious, because it was obvious Harley was struggling. She looked tired, stressed out, sad, and a little bit hopeless though she was trying to keep it together like the good mommy she was.

Ed seriously doubted the Joker was the sort to give her a pep talk—maybe just multiple orgasms, which was objectively better.

“Okay,” Harley raised her pillow’d hands to cover her face as she spread her feet. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Ed imitated her posture and stance, then started prancing on the spot.

Harley dropped her hands, frowning.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded.

“Staying light on my feet,” Ed huffed, trying not to pout that she was being so serious.

“Fine,” she sighed, raising her arms again. “Whatever works for you.” She started shifting from one foot to the other, wholly focused. “Show me some of your moves.”

Ed jabbed and she blocked it easily. He tried a jab-punch-jab combination and she blocked each of them, remarkably strong for those slender little bird arms of hers. He tried a jab-jab-cross, right-hook, and Harley blocked all of it, looking bored.

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow and Ed narrowed his eyes, determined to impress her.

This time he advanced on her instead of just showing her combinations. She blocked, blocked, blocked, backing up as he got her on the backfoot. Ed felt like he was finally getting some momentum when she ducked, pivoted, and kicked him in the chest just like she did at the Hill fundraiser, hard enough to make him gasp and stagger back.

Harley lowered her leg, grinning as Ed rubbed his chest.

“Come on, Ed,” she taunted him, bouncing from one foot to the other, mocking him. She smirked and raised an eyebrow all sassy. “Show me what you got.”

Ed huffed again, narrowing his eyes in concentration before he attacked. She blocked and ducked, slipping right and left, moving too fast for Ed to hit her, and then after a few minutes of letting him chase her around the room, she kicked him in the chest again.

Ed scowled, even though really he was delighted to see her smirking, a light sheen of sweat on her chest as she gestured for him to attack her again. Behind her, the Joker lit a new cigarette, staring at her ass happily.

They were all like one big happy family. Even Lee was in the kitchen watching with an amused look on her face as she made them breakfast.

Then Harley attacked Ed before he had a chance to get his footing, forcing him to block and slip, imitating her with remarkable efficiency.

“Good,” she encouraged, when he swiped at her head, missing her. “Good, faster. Come on, Ed, faster!” She laughed like she was having fun, and Ed followed her directives. She went in to kick him in the chest again, and this time he grabbed her ankle with the intention of pulling her leg out from under her. But instead of falling on her ass, she threw herself into a back handspring, kicking him in the face as she bounced off her pillowed hands and landed gracefully on her feet, throwing her arms up in a V-like gymnastics pose.

“Owwwww,” Ed whined, his bottom lip jutting out as he rubbed his face.

“Is a kick to the face really enough to take you out?” Harley scoffed.

“Why doesn’t J have to train,” Ed pouted, flapping a hand at the Joker.

“Because he’s freakishly strong and fast, and he can shoot a flea off your arm from twenty feet away,” Harley rolled her eyes as Lee offered Ed some ice for his face.

Behind her, the Joker shrugged modestly, looking amused.

“Thank you, Lee,” Ed cooed, giving her puppy dog eyes that made her chuckle and shake her head. Then he turned back to Harley. “Well if J’s fighting with us why don’t you two sparr and let me watch?”

“We don’t do that,” Harley frowned.

“Ah c’mon, Puddin’,” the Joker drawled, flicking his cigarette out the window before he swayed up to her, raising a challenging eyebrow. “What’re you scared of, huh?”

“You’re injured,” Harley pointed out drily.

“Bet I can still take ya,” J smirked, making Harley scoff.

She hesitated as she thought it over, then shrugged helplessly and pulled off her pillow gloves.

“Fine,” she agreed lightly, raising her eyebrows as she squared off with him. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The Joker chuckled throatily and rolled those tasty lanky shoulders back while Harley planted her feet and held her fists in front of her face, all serious and professional.

“Show me what ya got,” the Joker taunted her, smirking.

Ed lowered himself onto the couch to watch, absolutely fascinated to see what would happen.

Harley jabbed and the Joker swatted her hand away, shooting her an unimpressed look. They did this twice more, and J sighed like he was bored, spurring Harley to try a fraction hader, forcing him to duck a right hook. He straightened up with an intrigued hum and she jabbed at his face, hard enough to hurt him this time.

But he caught her wrist, spun her around, and wrenched her arm behind her back at an angle that made her yelp as he forced her to double over, holding her there for a prolonged second before releasing her, looking smug.

“I guess—“ he started to say, but Harley launched herself at him again, actually punching him in the jaw with an uppercut that made him laugh as his head snapped back. She went to kick him in the gut but he caught her leg, and yanked her forward, spinning her around so his arm was around her neck, making her huff and pant as she tried to get free.

“Give up yet?” he asked her slyly.

“Nope,” Harley gasped.

She folded forward, throwing the Joker over her shoulder so he landed flat on his back, laughing weakly when Harley sat on his chest. She grabbed his arms and pinned them over his head.

“I win,” she smirked triumphantly.

The Joker flipped her onto her back so fast Ed gasped in delight. Then J sat on her stomach and pointed a sharp index finger at Harley’s forehead.

“Bang,” he smirked lazily.

Harley locked her knees around his hips and flipped them over again, but just as quickly the Joker rolled over once more, with far less effort than Harley had to exert, and this time he pinned her arms over her head.

“I win,” he declared.

“Really,” Harley widened her eyes. She had her leg between his thighs, poised to knee him in the balls. “Don’t make me do it, J” she let her bottom lip stick out in a pout.

The Joker hummed thoughtfully then bent down to whisper something in her ear, making her giggle and wrinkle her nose before she lowered her leg and he released her arms.

Ed looked at Lee, his heart swelling.

“They’re so cute,” he hissed, feeling privileged to see this private little moment between these dangerous people.

A/N: Alright, that’s all from me for a while. I may do a four-parter called “Symmetry” at some point next year. I officially have almost two scenes (out of like, 150 scenes) drafted for The Rabbit Hole.

Wishing you all a happy new year. Pop over to FFN or Ao3 to leave your review of the Pantomime if you haven’t already!

PS: Asks are open for a couple more days if anyone would like to submit, but i encourage you to do it non-anonymously - it makes me feel like you actually exist, lol.

Like it, note it, reblog it, show me some love <3

#the pantomime #the harlequin #jarley #harley quinn #the joker #the riddler #edward nygma #au #fluff #crack #lol

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bluepenguinstories · 3 years ago

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Remoras Full Chapter XLIV: Sting Ray

Exhaustion set in as soon as the form before us faded. Vague shapes of the people around me blurred further until they were just airbrushed silhouettes who swayed from side to side. They were both close to me while also being further away. Miles away, even as they stood in place, next to Sunny and I. Even without exhaustion, I would have felt the same, thanks to the high setting in.

“I can’t believe it’s over...”Sunny muttered as she puffed the last of her joint. I think we were all shaken by the experience, even if none of us were naive enough to believe we were rid of such a monster.

Before we were ready to move on, Remora stepped out in front of us and lowered herself down to one knee.

“Aw, are you about to propose to someone?” Sunny leaned in and teased. Remora looked up and tilted her head.

“...What?” She asked, perpetual confusion. “No. I just...well, I do have a proposition.”

“Well, out with it!” Sunny urged.

Remora lowered her head, then continued:

“I left you all at a time when I suspected we weren’t rid of the one who sought to harm us. Thus, I put you all in danger. For that, I am sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I tried to reassure her, “I don’t think any of us knew Cronus could conjure up a fog like that.”

“Even still...I left and I shouldn’t have. For so long, I wanted a home, some place I felt right in. Maybe this place wasn’t what I would have considered ‘home’ at first, but over time I found you guys to be important to me. Yet I left you all behind, because I was scared. Because I didn’t understand what you all meant to me. So, even though I know I have no right to ask this of you, I will do so anyway: may I be a part of your lives once more? If you refuse, we’ll part ways once we reach the surface and you’ll never have to see me again.”

We all stood in silence. Despite the haze which was taking over, I took the initiative and cleared my throat.

“Oh my. I wasn’t expecting this,” I remarked.

“I’m serious,” Remora replied.

I can’t do serious. Not when I’m starting to feel the buzz kick in.

“I know. It’s just that you should know by now that at least in my eyes, you’ve always got a home here.”

“Yeah, I don’t see why you’d need to worry about something like that,” Sunny added.

“Still,” Remora turned her head away from Sunny and I, “I want to make sure it’s okay with everyone.”

Tigershark stamped her feet as she marched up to Remora, then tapped her on the shoulder.

“I still don’t like that you used to kill people. That’s not a very nice thing to do. But the you that I know is a good person now, so that’s what matters to me. Besides, you’re still one of my precious older sisters!”

“I…” Remora sounded ready to object.

“If you don’t stay, I’m going to be mad, so you have that to think about!” Tigershark roared, hands on her hips.

“I guess I do, huh?” Remora chuckled a humorless chuckle, awkward smile to boot. Afterward, she turned her attention toward Demetria, to which, the rest of us did as well.

“What? Why’s everyone looking at me for?” Demetria stammered, then on the defensive, took a step back and crossed her arms, “what do you need my opinion for? It’s not my decision to make.”

“Everyone means everyone,” Remora told her, insisting on an answer.

“Sure...Yeah. Whatever.”

“Is no one gonna ask me how I feel?” Tigershark jumped up as she asked.

“How do you feel?” Sunny looked down to humor the child, still with enough energy to jump in place.

“Terrible! Thanks! This whole thing has been a nightmare! First, there was that other you,” Tigershark looked over at Remora, “who turned out to be a monster. Then we fight rock monsters. We’re all bleeding and getting hurt. Then we fight another guy who’s a monster and apparently he’s the one who killed my parents? It wasn’t a blizzard, but a scary guy? And now...I’m ready to wake up.”

“Aw, we’re sorry, dear,” Sunny pursed her lip.

“No, I agree, though,” rasped Demetria’s rough voice. Odd, ‘rough’ when I had known her to have more of a mouse-like voice. “What else could it be called other than a nightmare?”

She didn’t speak another word after that, opting instead to hobble her way closer to me, and further from Remora. It was remarkable, that even in my high state, I could notice such subtleties. As we made our worn-out strides out from the room of Cronus’ design, I noticed little pebbles fall into my messy black hair. I ruffled through my hair, trying to shake the flakes out, all while more fell onto my head.

Of course. This part of the tunnel is one of his own design. Once he’s faded away, so too do his illusions.

“Don’t mean to rush any of you all, but I think this place is about to collapse,” I dropped the hint, and being the smartypants that they were, they looked at each other, eyes bulging, then in a panic, began to pick up their pace.

“Demetria, if you find it hard to walk, you can hold onto the side of my suit,” I offered to her. She scowled, though the scowl dropped to a more relaxed frown. As if to say, “fine. If it comes to that, I’ll allow it.”

“Good, and Sunny,” I added, then turned to my wife, my life, “you can do the same with Remora. If either of you need to lean on each other, that’s totally fine,” I gave the thumbs up. Sunny winked.

It was more like a game of hopscotch than a race of peril. Really embarrassing, if I were to be honest. If I had thought to bring a video camera, or even just record them on my phone, I’d look at the footage of us running for our lives and I would laugh. As it stood, I didn’t have that luxury. Any reason to laugh had to be put on hold as my breaths grew short and shallow and the collapsing rocky ground continued to close in behind us. Its pace picking up alongside our own increasing pace.

Other short breaths followed my own as if the other four were a barbershop quartet with stage fright. Hell, with me alongside them, it may as well be a quintet.

Remora and Sunny were both tall ladies. Tigershark was somewhere. Demetria was not a tall lady and I was a Short King (OK. So actually, I am Average Man height. Like 5’7”-(on my good days) 5’9”. Probably). Together we made up a group of people trying to get by with our lives.

I felt a little pull against my arm sleeve. I looked down and saw the orange jelly bean, Tigershark herself, held on tight to my sleeve.

“Hey! Look at you! Good job!” I congratulated her as I tried to work up a smile. If not for myself, then for the kid. She still looked ready to cry. Maybe when we got back to the diner, I could make a cake. If we even still have enough ingredients. Dammit Cronus (because the fog, not because he stole our food, which in an indirect way, he may as well have).

“Fancy weather, innit?” Sunny tried up a Parisian accent.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re underground,” Remora replied in a non-emotive shout, partially muffled by the rumblings around us.

Out the false tunnel and into the original tunnel as we slid our way through as the collapsing illusion. As it shut behind us and became a wall once more, it caused a miniature quake and had us all jump into place before we fell into the ground.

“Worst trampoline I’ve been on in a while,” I remarked as I rubbed my sore bum.

Tigershark was the first to stand back up and made cymbal crashing motions as she danced around with an angry chicken look on her face.

“When I get back, I’m going to bang pots and pans, because I deserve to!” She roared.

“Yeah, can’t argue there,” Sunny murmured. Then her and I laughed.

When we struggled back up and continued walking, I decided to break the ice:

“So, anything you wanna talk about?” I peered at the Demetria beside me. She didn’t say a word.

“Ah, the quiet game. I see,” then I turned to Remora who had a confused look on her face, but also said nothing. “You’re playing too, I see.”

“You’ll have to excuse my Ray of Sunshine, he’s a little high right now,” Sunny waved her hand around in a fanning motion.

“High?” Tigershark looked up. “What’s that mean?”

“He’s ascended,” Sunny then fluttered her hands to the side, like she was breaking out of her cocoon and becoming a beautiful moth fairy.

I tried to keep quiet. I knew I should. There were rules, and if all the world was a stage, then I was a character just as much as anyone else around me. Which meant, there were rules. One of those rules was that I was to stick to the established personality traits of my character. Any deviation was forbidden.

Oh, but much like someone who drank a gallon of tea needed to pee, if we walked through this long tunnel with neither Sunny nor I saying a word, I think I’d be in throbbing pain.

“A word,” Sunny took one for the team. “That’s all I’m going to say, though.”

Wow. Do we share the same mind?

“Thank you, dear,” I told her.

“Any time. Just remember: you’re my wife.”

I chuckled in response.

“I’m your wife, just as you are mine.”

“Wife and Malewife. We’re a gay male and female couple,” Sunny snapped her fingers and remarked.

“That’s what I’m saying!” I exclaimed in agreement.

Collective groans were made from the other three ladies.

Much of our trip back from then on was a blur, other than the fact that at one point, Demetria remarked, “gee, I bet everyone else back at the diner’s wondering what’s taking us so long.”

Although I was still a little outside of my mind, I let out a chuckle.

“Yeah, they’re probably thinking, ‘it can’t possibly take this long just to turn the lights back on’.”

Speaking of lights, as weary as we were, the sight of the bright, yellow glow flooded into view the closer we reached the entrance back into the basement. I looked beside me and saw Tigershark blink several times and rubbing her eyes. The others might have been just as astonished to see light again.

For my part, I was just hoping I had a spare pair of glasses somewhere once we got back up to the surface.

We walked through and everyone’s astonishment was voiced through low “ooh”, “aah,” and “wow.” While they all looked around, I couldn’t help but notice little red streaks on the otherwise clean floor.

No doubt from the fight that went on.

Everyone else made it up to the ladder before me. When it was my turn, I noticed some red marks upon the bars of the ladder. Whether blood or rust, I couldn’t tell. I just hoped they were dry enough that none of the others had gotten it on them. Even without getting it on them, one thing was certain: all five of us were due for a bath (but not at the same time).

Once I made my way up into the kitchen, I closed the hatch behind me. Sunny dropped to the floor, a wide grin on her face, then shot her arms up.

“Whee! Let’s do that again!” She cheered.

“NO!” The rest of us shouted in unison. It couldn’t be helped, of course. She was still riding that high, even if I was starting to come down.

I half-expected for someone, or a few someones, to bolt through the kitchen door and check in on us. When that didn’t come, I expected to hear commotion from the dining hall. Then, when that didn’t come, I just had to investigate. My heart beat like a dog would wag their tail at the prospect of a treat. Though replace ‘treat’ with ‘mystery’.

So I strolled, or strode, whichever suited my fancy, out into the dining hall where I saw the crowd...that wasn’t there. Yes, despite my poor vision, I still couldn’t believe my eyes at the emptiness of it all. There were still plates and messes on each table, signs that life had been there. But where they had gone, that was still a mystery.

Everyone else came out from the kitchen soon after me. Behind me, I heard Tigershark ask, “where did everybody go?”

Yes. Good question. Just how long were we gone? What could have happened in the meantime? Were they all hurt?

“That’s a good question, pipsqueak,” Demetria replied.

“Hey! Who you callin’ pipsqueak? In a few years, I’ll be taller than you!” Tigershark shouted back with ferocious fury.

“Man, I love you all,” Sunny drawled out, an adorable smile spread across her face.

“Uh. OK? Thanks?” Remora didn’t know how to respond.

Two things caught my attention: one, though outside looked fuzzy and dark, it did not look foggy. Which could only mean that the fog was lifted. The other thing I noticed were a few sheets of paper spread out on a nearby table. Ignoring their banter, I wandered over to the table. Each sheet had our names written on one side, with a series of text on the back. Although I couldn’t make out the individual words of our names, I could tell who was who by the individual letters shown and the vague shapes that made them up.

I chuckled at the absurdity of not even being able to read a simple letter.

I hope I have a spare pair of glasses somewhere.

“Hey guys,” I motioned for the others. It was my own little way of obfuscating from the fact that I couldn’t see what was written, “come check this out.”

The others scrambled on over and noticed the sheets of paper on the table, just as I had.

“They’re...letters?” Demetria blinked, astonished, and just a slight tinge of confusion.

“Man, oh man! This is too much!” Sunny held one hand over her face while the other held the sheet of paper, “she spelled it ‘hoomin’! Like Moomin, but with an ‘H’!”

“It’s Astraea!” Tigershark gasped as she read her letter, “she said that everyone else went to the hospital and she followed them there! Apparently there’s someone in particular she wants to see.”

“What does yours say, Demetria?” I turned to her as she parsed through the page. Before she answered, she folded up the paper and put it in her pocket.

“Nothing important,” she answered in a dry manner.

“Same here,” Remora added with a shiver and a shifty look.

Nervous, much?

“In that case,” I smiled, still trying to save face, “I’ll keep my letter private as well. They are meant for the individual, after all.”

“Aw, I wanted to know what yours said,” Tigershark whined. I pat her head and chuckled.

“Maybe I’ll tell you about it later,” I suggested as a means to reassure her.

“...Heh...Hoomin,” Sunny mumured to herself and laughed a howling laughter.

Now that I think about it, she probably has less of a tolerance to that kind of stuff than I do.

I strolled over to each table and picked up each plate, ready to take it to the kitchen. As I held a stack in hand, I turned to the other four.

“Now, we’ve all had a long day, so how about we all relax? Go ahead, sit down, I’ll get you guys something to drink.

“I’ll take vodka,” Remora requested whilst lowering herself down to the booth next to her.

“What’s vodka?” Tigershark asked.

“Shitty alcohol,” Sunny answered, not seeming to care about the swear, “I’ll have whiskey, take it or leave it.”

“Both of those sound gross!” Tigershark stuck her tongue out. “I’ll just have some hot cocoa.”

“Whip or no whip?” I asked.

“Lots and lots of whip cream!” She roared and cheered, fist pumping into the air.

“How about you, Demetria?” I turned my attention to her and watched as she slumped over in her seat, next to Sunny, and sulked at the table.

“Coffee,” she stated, which I found interesting, as I never pictured her to be a coffee drinker. Then again, I didn’t know what kind of drinks she tended to like.

“And how do you take your coffee?”

“Orally.”

Her response left me no choice but to make my expression as dull as hers as I teased, “oh, really? And here I thought you took yours rectally.”

“Wha...no. I mean, black, I guess.”

Sunny cackled into a thunderous laughter and slammed her fist on the table, which shook the poor thing every which way.

Sheesh. It’s like I’ve got my own laugh track. Thanks hun.

As I worked my magic in the kitchen, washing dishes and preparing drinks, I thought it over and decided that what Sunny really needed was water. As for everyone else, it went over just fine: I didn’t have to venture back down into the basement to get some vodka (thank goodness) as there was a bottle in the fridge. After I poured a shot, I filled another shot glass with water from the tap. Next, I brewed a pot of coffee, boiled a kettle of water on the stove, and as I waited for each one to heat up and fill up, I took off to the back of the diner to search for a pair of glasses.

There were none in my desk drawer. Next, I ascended to the upstairs bedroom. Sure enough, on the night stand, there was a box for glasses. I opened it up, half-fearing that it would be empty, but my heart fluttered upon seeing that there was indeed a pair for me.

Thank my lucky stars. Feels like things are finally starting to turn around.

As soon as I put them on, the world opened up to me.

“I can see clearly now the rain is gone,” I hummed and made my way back down.

Before I went back into the kitchen to prepare the final three drinks, I unfolded the paper and read its contents. For the sake of posterity, I will transcribe it without so many spelling errors (trust me, just about every word was misspelled):

Dear Ray,

Thank you a lot for letting me be a waitress. I appreciate what you taught me about humanity, just as much as I do with the things Sunny and Tigershark have taught me. Tigershark is my friend, you know. Also, I liked asking people what food they wanted to eat. I learned so many names of foods.

I think we’re a lot alike, because we’re both curious about things. It’s good, I think, because there’s always more to learn. While I didn’t understand what was going on at the time, I know a lot of people weren’t doing too good and you looked a bit sad. But I think even if bad things happen, you’re still very nice. I also want to be very nice! But I think I like tricking people too. That’s fun (Tigershark taught me about tricking).

As for how I managed to write all this after everyone went to the hospital it’s because I can write fast (Tigershark taught me to read and write). I’m very fast! Maybe not running but I can do things fast!

Also everyone left because someone called the doctor and the doctor mobile picked them up. I was in my room but I heard that someone fell over. It sounded interesting, so I’m going to walk to the hospital now. I might come back, but it also might take me a lot of days. I can’t always tell where I’m going.

P.S. I think you would like Animal Crossing. Tom Nook is kind of like you. He’s a nice man and maybe human.

I smiled and folded the paper back up, placed it into my desk, and strolled back into the kitchen. There were still some missing pieces, some gaps that needed to be filled in, but I’m sure they would be explained in time.

Actually, I’m growing a little impatient on that front.

After pouring in the hot cocoa mix into the boiling water, I stirred it. Then I filled it sky high with whipped cream. The coffee was easy, since it was all automatic. Really, needed no explanation. As for my tea, I chose a nice cup of ceylon and jasmine tea, and let it steep. While it sat, I decided to call up Dr. Cole-Slaw. To my surprise, she answered right away.

“Ray! You better have a good explanation for all this!” She huffed into the phone, clear annoyance rang through her voice.

“I’m sorry, Shir – Doctor, but I was hoping you could give me one. I was away while everything went down. One moment, I was attending to business in the basement, the next, all my patrons are gone.”

“Are you aware what ‘DOA’ means?” She asked, a little ‘tsk tsk’ in her tone.

“Yeah. Of course. I’ve been a wanted man in a few cities.” That was a joke. I wasn’t as popular as some might have believed me to be.

“Dead on arrival, smartass. One of your friends, Xena Warrior Princess over here, called me to go retrieve a dead body. Is this some kind of practical joke?”

Dead body? What?

“Whoa, whoa, slow down. I don’t know anything about that. Also, Xena Warrior Princess?”

“I dunno, purple sword lady.”

“Wendy. I don’t think she’d appreciate being called that.”

“Oh, no, she does. I ran it by her first. She said it’s quite amusing. Anyway, care to explain?”

Still the same Shirley, I see. Still...this is concerning.

“Trust me, I’d love to. I’ve buried a couple of people outside of the diner, but there shouldn’t be any corpses inside.”

“Excuse me? There’s more? Have you gone off the deep end, Ray? I know you’ve done some questionable stuff, but I didn’t know you had it in you to be an ax murderer.”

“It’s nothing like that. Look,” I slid back from the counter, “I’ll tell you what I’ve been dealing with for the past year: there’s been a terrible fog, maybe you’ve seen it? Maybe not. But there’s been monsters in the fog attacking people and I’ve been sheltering as many people as I could, trying to keep everyone alive on what limited supplies we had.”

“No offense, but I’ve got a hard time believing that.”

“Maybe it’s better that you don’t. I’d rather it wasn’t real, myself. But as you could see, it’s been lifted. For equally supernatural reasons, I presume.”

I got to thinking about all that I’ve endured the past year. All that we’ve endured. How all that time, I never bothered to learn the names of the people I sheltered. It was just as Aurora said. Perhaps if I had gotten to know everyone, I would have figured out Sister Cecilia’s identity sooner. I would have figured out Captain Aca...okay, that one was obvious. But still, I wished that I had a stronger bond with the others. Maybe then I might have had higher spirits.

“Say, do you know who it was you picked up?”

“No, sorry. But your cohort seems to have an idea. I’ll put her on the line. She’s agreed to mop the hospital floors while she’s here. I figure it’s a fair enough deal since I ended up hauling off a whole crowd of people.”

“Great. Do it.”

“Oh, and by the way, our little Jane Doe’s still breathing. For now, anyway. She’s in, uh, not good condition, but it’s something.”

“What a relief. Wait, I thought you said dead on arrival?”

“Yeah. But I didn’t say arrival to the hospital. I’m a genius, I know,” she gloated.

“OK, let me hear from Wendy.”

She passed the phone on over, then I heard Wendy’s raspy yet sly voice.

“Hey, Ray, guess who I’m with at the hospital right now?” She posed the question.

“Are you going to tell me?” I wasn’t really in the mood for guessing, nor did I have enough information on hand to do so. “I know they’re a woman, that’s about it.”

“Hmm…” she lingered on that last ‘m’, “have you taken a look in the mirror since you got back? I do take it you’re back, and not just calling me from underground.”

“No, I haven’t. I should get on that, but I’m busy preparing drinks for the other four.”

“You sure sound exhausted, that’s for sure. I bet you look just as bad as you sound right now,” she suggested.

“Probably. I just sound this way because I’m coming down from a high, but we all need our rest. Now, since you’re not going to tell me about this mystery patient, will you at least tell me what went on while I was away?”

“Aw, you’re no fun. But sure. Basically about a minute or two after you went down, the lights flickered back on and we were all excited. I told everyone to temper their excitement, as we still don’t know what to expect. What a statement that turned out to be, as maybe a little more than an hour later, we hear someone coming back up. Some of us got all giddy, thinking it was you guys, but instead walks out this woman none of us recognized. Well, some of us thought we did, but I’m not gonna name names. She fell down once she saw us, but not before saying something, I think it was, ‘that’s all, folks’ in a weak voice.”

“Someone besides us was down in the basement?” My heart skipped a beat. I knew there was that impostor, and later on Cronus, but I didn’t think there would be anyone else. “Did she sneak down there and hide or something?”

“Couldn’t tell ya. I’m as lost as you are on that front. But I’ll say this: upon seeing her face, I flew into a panic. I shouted for someone to call a doctor. Others thought it was ridiculous, but then we saw that the fog was gone and that was when we all wanted a doctor. Someone had the number to your good friend, Cole-Slaw, and she was happy to come out and get us all.”

Something tells me she wasn’t very happy at all, but let’s put that aside.

“Speaking of coleslaw, what’s the deal with it? You put mayonnaise on radishes and lettuce or something and for some reason that’s supposed to taste good?”

“Any other time, I’d love to talk about what constitutes as food, but I’m just a little beat.”

“I get you. I think even I would be, given what you all must have gone through. But hey, now we’ve got clear skies. That’s something to celebrate, no?”

“Yeah. Maybe in the morning I can get a good view outside. As it is, it’s just a little too dark for my liking. But anyway, I should go,” but before I did, I got to thinking, “oh, and hey: if this mystery patient manages to make it, I’d like to meet her in person. Maybe you can invite her back to the diner and Tigershark and I will treat her to a nice meal. How’s that sound?”

“Sure thing, Ray. We’ll see.”

There was a great list of things to look forward to, and that just became one of them. But anyway, I needed to deliver everyone their drinks before the hot drinks turn cold and the cold drinks turn warm. So once I ended the call, I brought out each of the drinks on a platter and strode out into the dining hall.

“Here you go, ladies,” I set down each drink onto the table. Sunny, without hesitation, downed her shot.

“Damn,” she wiped her mouth, “that’s the best whiskey I’ve ever had.”

I suppose the irony may have been that it would have been easier to mistake water for vodka than it would be whiskey, but since she was still riding a high, perhaps it was just a little hard to tell.

Tigershark sipped on her hot cocoa, a little whipped cream mustache forming above her lips.

I, meanwhile, too my seat at the booth just behind them. It wasn’t a matter of isolating myself from the others. No, I just liked to listen in as an outsider while I took comfort in the solitude.

“It really has been over a year. How old are you now, Demetria?” Remora asked, working up her best kind voice.

“Twenty-four,” Demetria replied and shrugged whilst sipping her coffee.

“Aw, man! That means I missed your birthday!” Remora then complained.

“Uh, yeah? That’s what being away for over a year means.”

“Still, it’s good to see you,” Remora smiled and continued to try to lighten the mood.

“It is? Why?”

“Because I’ve missed you.”

“No you didn’t. You just missed the attention.”

“That’s not true…” Her voice turned desperate, before lowering it.

“Sorry. That was maybe too harsh of me,” Demetria looked away as she mentioned.

“No, you’re right.”

Demetria got up from her seat, took the coffee cup, chugged it down, then announced, “I’m going to my room.”

She walked off a couple of paces, then turned back.

“Don’t worry, Ray. I’ll wash out my mug before I go.”

She walked a couple of paces once again, almost to the kitchen, then turned back once more.

“Actually, I’m going to take a shower, then I’ll go to my room.”

I couldn’t help myself, perhaps a tad insensitive of me, but I cupped one hand over my mouth and called out to her.

“Actually, you’ll go through the hallway, then take a shower, then go to your room!”

She twitched, it seeming to strike a nerve, but then just said, “yeah…”

I then saw Tigershark, still with her whipped cream mustache, look over with an incredulous face, then turn back to Remora.

“What was that for?! We just got back and she’s already got an attitude?” Tigershark thew her hands up.

“It’s because of me,” Remora turned somber and stared down as she explained, “the whole reason why she left last time, and why I left.”

“Why?”

“Because I told her that I didn’t, and couldn’t care about her. Or anyone. I really thought that at the time, too. She didn’t take it well, which...understandably so. So I tried to bargain with her, and...that made it worse, because I panicked and I wasn’t feeling well, just recovering from being sick, which probably contributed to the whole thing. So...I can’t blame her for being wary around me.”

“Well, that’s stupid! You care about us, right?” Tigershark was incensed and poised for a rant.

“Yeah, but it took a long time to figure that out.”

Interesting. I never thought I’d hear her say that. Perhaps in her absence she went through a long journey of self-discovery and probably has many stories to tell of her adventures.

“So? Just tell her that.”

“It’s not that simple…”

“Yeah it is. You just told me.”

“I’m sure she’d want me to prove it, and I don’t know how to.”

“That’s dumb too! And I’m sure you missed us, too! Also, what’s wrong with wanting attention? Who says you can’t miss people and want attention at the same time? Attention is good.”

“You don’t get it. You’re just a kid.”

“So what? What’s that got to do with anything? I’ll have you know, I’m eleven now!”

“Wow. I’m gone for over a year and all of a sudden everyone’s a year older,” Remora muttered. It was almost like she was making an observation, but to anyone else, it may have come off as sarcasm.

She looked out the window, listless, then peered her head over to where I was; to be honest, I was a little caught off guard that she would notice me, given that I was just there sipping my tea and listening in to everyone else.

“I’m going to my room, too, and, uh, Ray?” Remora announced.

“Yes?” I addressed her.

“Your wife’s asleep at the table.”

“Ah. Thank you. I suppose it’s time we get some rest. In the morning I’ll make us all a large meal, how does that sound?” I offered.

“I can do it! You’re still hurt pretty bad!” Tigershark shot her hand up.

“Very well. I’ll leave it to you, then,” I gave a light chuckle as I got up from my seat, took one last sip of my tea, and led Sunny up, first by tapping on her back.

“Come on, hun. It’s time we got ourselves to bed,” I coaxed as I helped lift her up.

“Boobas…” She murmured in a half-asleep daze. She must have been dreaming about bubble tea or something.

“Yes, dear. I understand quite well.”

We stumbled our way to the back, then up the stairs to our room. She rubbed her eyes a bit, but rather than start to wake up, as soon as we were next to our bed, she collapsed right into it. I followed suit.

The following morning, I fumbled getting my glasses back on, surprised that I had slept without taking them off, and my head almost crushing them while asleep. Once I had conquered that battle, it was time to...well, check the time. My phone read 5:31 AM, and as early as it was, I accepted it and forced myself out of bed.

As I got up, I felt the intense soreness of yesterday’s struggle. What a terrible and aching physical reminder it was. It got worse when I went down and took a shower; the hot water stung against the wounds on my sides and on my face. After getting myself dressed, I headed to my desk in the middle of the hallway and sat down. Yes, it may have been wiser to have brewed another cup of tea, or perhaps, dare I say, coffee, but I just wanted to sit and think for a little while.

What a day yesterday. For better or worse, we all made it back, and the diner is once again empty save for the five of us. While I do hope to get some customers sooner or later, I must say that I enjoy the quiet. We’ve all earned it. Now, even if some things may be different in terms of everyone’s personalities, if we are getting back to business as usual, then I ought to make a phone call.

The downside is that based on our timezones, Cybele would probably still be asleep.

I know. I’ll just send a text.

Me: It’s safe now. You can return if you’d like.

I set my phone down on the table, then almost jumped out of my seat upon seeing Remora seated across from me. Her serious expression made whatever she was there to say seem urgent.

“So, I just had a dream that we were all on a battlefield and then Demetria died and I got sad, so there��s no denying it now: I’ve got a crush on her.”

I matched her dull expression with my own.

“Remora, it’s like 6 AM,” I informed her.

“Is it? I don’t have my phone with me, so I can’t really tell the time. Anyway, I don’t see what that has to do with the dream I had, so quit beating around the bush and tell me what you think.”

Is this really all I’m good for?

“It doesn’t really sound like a crush,” I shrugged, figuring she wouldn’t give up staring until I gave her an answer, “it just sounds normal. You’d be sad if I died, wouldn’t you?”

She paused. Didn’t say a word. I let it linger for a few seconds longer, then I couldn’t help myself.

“What?! No answer?!” I spat out.

“I’m still tired,” she replied, “I have to think about this.”

I was still just a little baffled, but I let it go.

“Even if it turns out you haven’t developed a crush, like you theorize, I can still tell you’ve discovered some things about yourself, so I commend you for that. Maybe later we can discuss some of the things you’ve learned.”

“Anyway, I’m pretty sure it’s a crush,” Remora dismissed, as if she didn’t even listen to what I had to say, “but I’m going to deny it, because I already know a relationship wouldn’t work out.”

“I agree. As it stands, I don’t think either of you are ready for such things. Besides, I know how she used to be, but do you think that’s something she wants now?”

“What? That’s not what you’re supposed to say. You’re supposed to say, ‘go for it, what do you have to lose? You only live once, et cetera’.”

“I’m agreeing with something you said. Isn’t that good enough?”

“We’re friends, right, Ray?”

I put my palm over my head.

“Yes, Remora. We’re friends.”

“So you’ll tell me anything I wanna hear, right?” She closed her eyes, crossed her arms, and smiled.

“That’s not how that works.”

“I know, but can’t you just pretend?” Her smile lowered and she pleaded.

“OK. What do you want to hear?” I humored her.

She just slammed her head against the desk and groaned.

“Ugh...I don’t know. What should I do?”

“First you should get your head off my desk,” I instructed. She didn’t, at least not at first.

“Ugh...you’re so mean, Ray,” she whined before lifting her head.

“Now, you should go back to bed. You clearly need some rest.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right,” she blinked, her face back to the blank expression I was used to seeing on her. “What are you doing up so early, anyway?”

“I’m just sitting and thinking. I like to do it sometimes.”

“Wow. That’s such an old man thing to do. You’re not that old yet, you know,” she pointed out.

“Don’t you ever do that?”

“Only when I need to.”

“Well, then, I think you need to do some of that after you’ve gotten a little more rest. You said yourself after we got back last night that the reason she’s acting the way she is around you is because of what happened before you left over a year ago. So don’t you think that should be addressed first before any prospect of a relationship?”

“Hm. Yeah. OK. Back to bed I go.”

A few hours later, Tigershark had made pancakes with strawberry syrup for everyone. She, Sunny, and I sat together while Remora and Demetria sat alone in booths at opposite ends of the diner silence.

“So, I was thinking, hun, how we don’t really charge people for meals most of the time,” Sunny brought up in between bites of the fluffy pancakes.

“Yeah. We used to a few years ago, but there’s been many changes since then,” I replied.

“Right. But you don’t mind that we don’t charge, do you?” She pondered.

“I suppose not.”

“So I’ve got a couple of ideas: we could turn this place into a hotel and start charging. If we hire more staff, then it shouldn’t be all that stressful managing all those people. Yeah, we had to house many people already and it was awful because of the circumstances, but if people can go in and out, then it should be fine.”

“It would cost a lot of money to expand this space in order to accommodate,” I pointed out.

“Right. My other idea is: why do we need to be a business at all? Like, sure, the front half is pretty much designed like a business, but there’s nothing saying we have to. We get by just fine on our own as it is. So maybe we could provide free meals to anyone who comes in and advertise that.”

“So basically what we’ve already been doing, but announce it?”

“Yeah!”

“I won’t rule it out. Not sure if I really want the attention, but it’s an option.”

“What do you think, Tigershark?” Sunny turned to the kid.

“Hmm...oh! You could do both! Make it like a free hotel!”

I put my palm over my mouth and chuckled.

“So like a homeless shelter, but fancy...not bad, not bad. Still would be expensive to see it through, but it seems like the kind of thing Wendy would approve of. Not to mention, just like with the previous hotel idea, we’d have to hire more staff, and even if they’d live here with us, they’ll probably want to get paid for their labor.”

“Oh! Have you heard from Wendy?” Tigershark asked.

“Yeah, I talked to her last night. She’s doing fine. Just hanging out at the hospital.”

“That idea…” Sunny scratched her chin. “Tigershark, you’re a genius! It’s easy! We make lots of money by taking on requests again!”

“That’s one way...but then there’s the chance of Cronus striking at any moment. Sheesh, everything’s become so complicated.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure out something, hun,” Sunny reached across the table and gave me a pat on the shoulder. When she sat back down, I felt my phone begin to ring. I picked it up and saw that it was Cybele.

“Oh my Goddess! This is the best day ever!” Cybele gushed over the phone, her excitement at maximum capacity.

“Is it really?” I chuckled.

“Yes! I can’t wait! I’m going to head back on over right away! Oh, but what should I do about the big house? Should I sell it? Should I give it to a homeless person? Oh, but if I do that, then they wouldn’t be able to afford to pay utilities, so that wouldn’t be very fair.”

“You can sell the house, then give the money to a homeless person,” I suggested.

“Yes! Brilliant! Thank you so much, Ray!” She hung up right after, without so much as a goodbye.

“Who was that?” Sunny asked.

“Cybele. She’ll be coming back soon,” I informed her.

“Awesome! We’re getting the band back together!”

“Band? What band?” Tigershark looked at the both of us, turning her head back and forth.

“It’s a figure of speech,” I explained.

After breakfast, Tigershark and I tended to the dishes. Once we had finished, I headed back to Sunny and I’s bedroom so I could fetch myself a book to read. We had an extensive collection along multiple bookshelves, enough that if we expanded the space just a bit more, we could have ourselves our own little library.

After much deliberation, I decided to settle on a collection of Akutagawa’s short stories. His tales were amusing, if nothing else, so it should at least pass some time away.

As I made my way back downstairs, I heard some commotion between Remora and Demetria.

“We need to set boundaries! So you stay at your end of the hallway, and I’ll stay at mine!” Demetria shouted whilst holding a stick of chalk.

“But the bathroom is on your end of the hallway and sometimes I have to pee. Also, what about showering?” Remora stated her case.

“You’ll have to get creative! We’re not good around each other, and this is a good solution!”

I made my way to the bottom of the stairs, then turned to the two.

“Hey Demetria, I need to cut something, so can I borrow one of your knives?” I asked.

She looked up at me, blinked, then dug into her pocket.

“Uh, sure, here.”

I took her knife and held it up, making a slashing motion into the air.

“Yep. It’s just as I thought. The tension in the air’s so thick that you have to cut through it with a knife.”

“What?!” Demetria stomped her foot at my little theatrics. I handed her knife back to her, then smudged out the chalk line on the floor with my foot. She, of course, took issue with that. “Hey! What are you doing? I’m setting boundaries, here!”

“You’re acting like a child, is what you’re doing.”

“Am not! She started it!” Demetria pointed at Remora. I faced Remora, who then backed away a step.

“I was just trying to talk things out with her, but I understand wanting space and I’m willing to compromise, but please let me take a shower sometimes,” Remora pleaded.

“There’s the bathroom in the dining hall,” I explained, “but yes, there’s no reason to restrict what bathroom you use. That’s just ridiculous.”

“First off, when she tried to talk things out, she just made things worse,” Demetria was still going at it.

“Look, I’m fine if you guys fight with each other, but can you two not take up so much space? Sit down at a table, or go to a room and go at it there,” I told them.

“I don’t want to go at it with her, I just want us to coexist,” Remora explained.

“We can’t coexist! We’re not good around each other!” Demetria shot back.

I shook my head. This was really trying my patience.

“Maybe you’re right,” I relented.

“Ha!” Demetria gloated.

“What I mean is, if you two can’t get along, you both can leave. We don’t need any of this bickering.”

“What?! You can’t do that! I was here first!” Demetria protested.

“Technically speaking, Remora was here first,” I pointed out.

“Well I came back first!”

“Well, I’m...uh...taller?” Remora interjected in an absentminded fashion.

You do realize this isn’t a competition, right?

“I’m serious. Get along or else,” I reiterated.

“But we can’t get along!” Demetria whined.

“...You won’t have to. I’ll be in my room, so, there should be no issues,” Remora stated, then walked away back to her end of the hallway. Even if she didn’t look like one, the image of a sad little puppy conjured up.

Once she entered into her room and closed the door behind her, I turned to Demetria.

“Anything you would like to drink? Tea? Coffee?” I offered. She looked up, confused, but answered.

“Espresso?”

“Very well. Go ahead and sit down, I’ll make you some.”

I brewed a cup of espresso, then set it down for her and sat across from her at the booth.

“What gives? First you say I’m acting like a kid, and now you’re rewarding me?” She asked after taking a sip.

I smiled before I spoke.

“I figured ‘let’s have a drink’ would sound less like you were in trouble than ‘let’s have a talk’.”

“I see. It was a clever ruse.”

“Not really. So, care to tell me what I missed?”

“Nothing much,” she scoffed, “she just came up to me and said she was sorry and that she’s started to feel things. I didn’t get it and I still don’t. She asked me if we could be friends, at least until she figured things out.”

“What did you say to that?”

“I asked if it was even possible for her to be friends with someone.”

“Don’t you think that was a bit harsh? It may have hurt her feelings.”

“Does she even have feelings?”

Can you not tell?

“Sure she does,” I answered, “maybe she doesn’t express them in the same way that you do, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t. I don’t know, but I’m thinking she’s started to figure that out as well.”

“I’m sorry, then,” she muttered, then slumped her head down onto the table. I wanted to get her head off the table, but...I let it slide.

“I don’t need any apologies.”

“Well, she said in response to that, ‘I don’t know, but I’d like to try’ and so I gave in and said that I guess I could do that much. It’s just, what does she mean?”

“I think she means that she’d like to be friends?”

“But what does that mean to her? Can I really do that? It’s not like I really know what to do with friends either. I’ve never been good at that kind of stuff.”

“In that case, maybe it will be a good learning experience for both of you.”

“Why...why does anything have to be a learning experience?” She grunted, “I don’t want any more learning experiences. That’s not what I came here for. I don’t even want to like her anymore.”

“Don’t want to?” I questioned.

“That’s...you get what I mean.”

I do. It’s just that you’re trying to convince me that you didn’t say what you meant.

“Demetria,” I commanded, “what is it that you want?”

She looked up, leaned back toward the window, and looked out.

“I don’t know,” she replied.

“Because you don’t have to be her friend if you don’t want to. It wouldn’t be right if you forced yourself to, would it?”

“Look: I came back to protect you guys. She wasn’t on my mind at all. I did everything I could to get her off my mind and just move on with my life, but I couldn’t bear the thought of the rest of you in a dangerous situation beyond your control. So if for nothing else, I wanted to return for that.”

“And I thank you for that. Seeing as the cat’s out of the bag, I think it’s fair to say you know what I think of you.”

“But I wish I didn’t have to be in disguise to hear it.”

“Yes, but I’m telling you now: we all like you. Tigershark likes you, even if she might like to pick on you sometimes. Sunny took a liking to you right away.”

“I’m not interested in stealing your wife from you,” she replied and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Not what I meant, but I’m amused that you took it that way.”

She puffed her cheeks and scowled. I felt like getting a needle and popping one of her cheeks, though I doubted it would pop like a balloon.

“We’re all happy to see you back, don’t get me wrong. But you should have known that there was a chance of her coming back as well.”

“Really? I thought she didn’t care about anyone.”

“Oh, come now,” I flashed a toothy smile, “and I thought you knew better than to take people’s words at face value.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She turned to face me.

“Figure it out yourself.”

Again, she puffed her cheeks. I wasn’t going to spell it out for her, but I figured an elaboration was in order.

“Don’t get me wrong, even if she was how she was just a couple of years ago, she’d have justified it by saying ‘I’m only doing this because it’s my mess and I need to clean it up’ or something to that effect. But how is that any different than ‘I only came back to protect you guys?’”

“It’s plenty different! What? You saying I’m a liar? It was a big motivating factor! If I never heard that you guys were in trouble, I probably would have never returned. That would have been that. Like I said, I wanted to move on with my life.”

“I don’t want to put words in your mouth. You say you came back to bail us out, I believe you. And so you did and we are thankful, so now there’s nothing stopping you from moving on with your life.”

“Uh, yeah there is. Cronus is still out there and he could come back any time. What then?”

For a moment, I had forgotten that whole matter. Oh, such sweet ignorant bliss.

“It’s true he really had us on the ropes. Drove me to the point of despair, took lives right in front of me, all for the sole purpose of wearing me down. But if the same incident were to happen again, even more hopeless this time, I want to maintain compassion just to spite him. I want to learn everyone’s names, that way even if their lives end up lost to his petty game, at least they would be remembered. However, now that we have more knowledge at hand, going forward it will be that much easier to prepare. What I’m saying is that while there’s no guarantee, you shouldn’t have to hinder your future for our sake.”

“You wouldn’t be hindering my future,” she muttered.

“Oh? Why not?”

“Because if it’s something that I chose to do, then it’s on me.”

“I see. I’m just saying, you can choose to do other things. It’s true that there are times situations are out of one’s control, but you’re crafty in ways that even surprise me sometimes. If you need support, I could try and assist you in any way. Even if there’s something you want to do and you can’t achieve it, I’m just saying that I want you to have the option of trying.”

“Thanks,” she replied, then let out a dejected sigh, “she’s going to be disappointed. I’m not the same person she remembers.”

“So what? Why worry about disappointing her?”

“I’m not. I’m just saying, if she’s expecting things to go back to how they were before, she’s setting herself up for disappointment.”

“I think it goes without saying that we’ve all changed since we’ve last seen each other, but now I’m curious: how exactly have you changed?”

“First of all, I finished school. I can be a marine biologist if I want to now.”

“Good job. I’m proud of you,” I gave a little clap, “if you want to be a marine biologist, you should. There are many benefits to being a marine biologist. If you want to stay in the area, you can find an aquarium to work at and visit here from time to time. We could talk about how your job’s treating you, and how life’s been, and we can both share a good laugh.”

“I just don’t know. I didn’t get it because I want to be a marine biologist. I wanted to, once, but I don’t know. I didn’t finish school because I wanted to finish school, either, but because I didn’t want it to go unfinished.”

“So perhaps it was a pride thing less than interest?”

She either laughed or scoffed. It was hard to tell.

“Yeah. Might have been something like that. I...also killed a few people.”

That took me aback. Though not appalled, just surprised. But given where we were at, who she was talking to, she should have known that there wouldn’t be any moral condemnation.

“You and Remora have something in common, then.”

“Is this a joke to you?” She rasped.

I smiled and shook my head.

“No. At least not one I benefit from laughing at.”

“I didn’t enjoy it.”

“I doubt she enjoyed killing, either. She was just conditioned to treat it as a chore or routine. Just another assignment.” However…

“That said,” I continued, deciding not to keep my thought to myself, “there is a certain thrill she gets from intense fights, hunts, perilous situations. It may not be that she enjoys pain. Whether it be inflicting or receiving. But...it’s a rush that’s hard to satiate.”

Demetria gulped, as if she knew what I meant. Sensing that she was afraid to speak, I continued once more:

“There are things that she was conditioned to believe about herself, things that she’s told herself, that she’s had to unlearn. Then after that, there’s learning new beliefs in its place. I can’t imagine it’s easy. I’d say it’s probably been scary for her, as well, and in that process of challenging such old mindsets, she’d resist them. Maybe she’s changed since then, and she’s not the person you first had a crush on and maybe you’ve changed and you’re no longer the person she was hoping to see again, but even if that’s the case and things can’t work out between you two, I think you should still have a talk with her.”

“About what?”

I snorted, then coughed up a laughter. It wasn’t like she said anything funny, nor did it warrant a laugh, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Anything. Just say anything to clear the air. Even if nothing’s resolved after, at least it would be better than avoiding each other. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you have to, nor do you need to do it right away. If you need time, if you don’t feel ready, that’s fine. But I do think it should happen sometime.”

“It’s going to be hard to face her,” she replied, and some of the edge in her voice had diminished, in its place an aching timbre.

“I can imagine.”

“What if we try to talk, but then I snap or lash out and that just makes things worse between us?”

I shrugged.

“I’d rather than not be the case, but at least then you’d have made an effort. Forty percent is better than zero, y’know?”

“Sounds like a wasted effort if it still ends in failure.”

“No effort is wasted, dear.”

She got up from her seat without another word. Her face looked a little more relaxed, though I wondered how much that had to do with the talk and how much it had to do with the caffeine. Then again, there’s the possibility that giving her so much caffeine would have done the opposite of relaxed her and make her unable to sleep, so...my god, why did she want that? Why not some relaxing herbal tea?

After dusk, Tigershark made tartiflettes for everyone with buttered sweet rolls on the side. Again, Sunny, Tigershark, and I sat together, while the other two (no need to name names) sat far away from each other at opposite ends of the diner. Both were thankful for their meals, but they remained fixated on the food in front of them, not on anyone else, let alone each other.

Once that was said and done, I walked back to my desk, gathered up papers, and examined any possible requests or avenues in which to make money through unethical means. Just me, a middle aged man, sorting through papers. As if that was what my life had been reduced to. Even with my glasses on, the words all seemed to just bleed into each other after a while. Every little option or scheme carried with it some kind of risk, and balancing risk and reward...man, it was a stress and a half.

I reached into my drawer, hoping for a joint, but none were to be found.

Sunny must have taken them. She might even be getting higher than a hot air balloon in outer space right now. Lucky her. Can’t really blame her, either. To quote a certain little nun, we all ‘went through hell.’

Going back over to the stack of papers, I looked up and saw Demetria emerge from her room and saunter (maybe ‘saunter’ wasn’t the right word choice, but she couldn’t stop me from describing her movements that way) through the hallway. She caught my gaze and turned her head.

“You said it didn’t have to be right away, but better now than never,” she told me, before crossing the threshold into the other end of the hall.

I expected that she would have knocked on Remora and Tigershark’s door (I didn’t know where the kid was, at the moment. My suspicion was in the kitchen, either cleaning up, or baking treats for herself). Instead, I watched as before she could get to the door, she bumped her head on an invisible wall. I heard her hiss, “ow,” then slide her back down against the wall until she sat, legs folded up, and her head down.

“Figures you would put up a literal wall. You’re not really one for metaphors,” she muttered, “then again, at least you’re direct. Here I’ve been trying to keep you out of my mind and avoid you to little success.”

I figured after saying that, she’d get up and go back to her room, given that it didn’t seem to be the right time. Props to her, though. She was a persistent one.

“Funny how that works, huh? I started out all obsessed with you. I wanted you, or at least I thought I did. Well, I’m pretty sure I did. I had all sorts of fantasies you probably wouldn’t want to hear about. Somewhere around the line those fantasies faded and in their place, I just wanted to know you better. Even then, though, I was still pretty attached, and I still think I wanted you to notice me, more than anything else. Now…” She shook her head, “Ha. You don’t need the whole recap.”

She folded her arms over her legs. It was like she was trying to cradle herself, but she remained still and just held on tight.

“You probably can’t hear any of this. That’s fine, too. Maybe it’s better sometimes to talk to myself and pretend there’s someone else listening. I’d do it more often, but I don’t like the sound of my own voice.”

I watched as the illusion shattered, the wall must have come down, and in its place, Remora sat at the opposite end of Demetria, in the same position. To boot, her back was against Demetria’s.

“I only caught the last bit,” Remora spoke up, “what was the rest of it?”

Demetria, startled, but regained composure within the same sentence, replied, “I’m not going to repeat myself.”

“That’s fine. But what are you doing on the floor?”

“I came to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. I guess just to try to work something out. Figure out where to go from here.”

“Well, you don’t have to believe me, but I’m glad.”

“I’ll choose to believe you – but only because if you aren’t, it doesn’t really affect much, but if you are, then it makes things a little better.”

“But what if you believe me, but then it turns out not to be true?”

“Dammit. Why do you have to ruin this?”

“I just want to cover all the bases.”

Demetria huffed, then answered, “I think I’ll choose to believe you anyway. I know how I’ve been since we got back, but I really would like us to be on good terms as well.”

“Do you mean that?”

“What? Now you’re doubting me?”

“No. It’s just that if you didn’t want to, I’d have understood.”

“Well...when you asked about being friends, it really caught me off guard. For one, the last time the subject came up, it was how you said you could pretend if I wanted, but it wouldn’t be real. When you brought it up this time, it was ‘at least until I figure myself out’. Which means that maybe after a while, you’ll come to the conclusion that you don’t want to be.”

“I know. It’s a risk. One that you might not want to take. I can’t really say what conclusions I’ll come to or how things will turn out. But I prefer to be upfront about what’s on my mind and how I feel, and at the moment, how I feel is that I would like to try being friends with you. I think I’ve reached the point where I can say that whether it’s pretend or not is a moot point, because if I think of us as friends, then I’m going to treat it as real.”

“B-but...what does being friends even mean to you?”

There was a pause and Remora lifted her head up.

“I’m not sure. Friends are...friendly to each other? Well, that might go without saying. I know friends are people who like each other. Get along. But then there are friends who don’t get along. So I’m not sure. I feel like I should know, it just seems more vague when I try to put it into words.”

“Well,” Demetria replied, “that makes two of us. I’ve never been good at that sort of thing, myself.”

“Then...we can not be good at it together,” Remora suggested. “Maybe we can both learn.”

“But how would we do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t know, either.”

“See? We can not know together.”

“But how would we both be friends if we don’t know how to be friends? That just makes no sense.”

“I know. But I think if we were both in elementary school, we wouldn’t think so much about that sort of thing. One of us would just go up to the other and be like, ‘let’s be friends!’ And either the other would say, ‘yeah!’ Or say something like, ‘ew! Go away!’”

“That’s kind of a cute idea,” Demetria remarked, “if only we had met that way.”

“Hm. I don’t know. Even as a kid, I preferred to be left alone.”

“Oh. Yeah. Me too.”

“But now we’re adults and we’ve spent so much time wanting to be left alone that –”

“– you no longer want to be left alone?” Demetria suggested as she tried finishing that statement.

“Hm. No. I was going to say, ‘even if we have some friends, we don’t really know what it means.”

“Oh. I guess that’s true, too.”

“Yeah. But I like your answer better.”

“Yeah. But your answer applies to you and mine applies to me.”

“It’s kind of nice that way, though. Each different perspectives.”

“You know, when we talked earlier, and you asked me to hug you, it felt weird, but I said sure. So I held out my arms and walked up, but then you backed away and said you didn’t think you were ready after all and I didn’t take it well.”

“It wasn’t your fault. I wanted to, too. I’ve just never been comfortable with others touching me, and even if it would have been okay, I was still a little hesitant and nervous.”

“It’s okay not to be ready. I should know better. I was just hoping that things would be different.”

“They might be, in time.”

“You know, it’s still hard. Because I want to be friends with you, I do, and I feel like I should be happy about that, but then I just think about when we talked right before we both left and it hurts. Like, I was so convinced that we had gotten closer and that you cared, and hearing you say that you didn’t, I wanted it not to be true. But you pushed harder, and I just thought ‘maybe you’re right.’ Now you’re saying ‘I don’t know’ and it’s like, nothing’s really changed, has it?”

“You’re wrong there. I’m sorry about what I said and how it affected you and it makes sense that it would hurt, but you’re wrong in that nothing has changed. Before, I was so sure it was a ‘no’ and now I’m not so sure, but I’m more optimistic, and even leaning toward the possibility that it’s a ‘yes’. It just feels messy and gray.”

“I think I can understand that. To be honest, it’s going to be awkward. Us, as friends.”

“We’re awkward people, so it’s to be expected.”

“But at the same time, you might not like who I am now.”

“Maybe. But I’d rather find that out for myself. It’s only been a couple of days.”

“You’re taking this rather well,” Demetria remarked.

“Not really. I’m just taking it.”

“Well, I’m just saying, I’m different than how I used to be.”

“I’ve changed as well, you know.”

“How?”

There are many obvious things you could say, so what is it you’ll say? I wondered. Remora lowered her head, and when she answered, it wasn’t an answer I would have expected. But then again, it wouldn’t have been her if she didn’t throw a few curveballs in between her signature style.

“If I was the old me, and I still had that job, and you were the target, then I wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Demetria spoke in what was like a half mix between a growl and a tease.

“You wouldn’t even see me coming.”

“I’d like to see you coming.”

...What?

“Well, maybe with how you are now, you would. But then, maybe with how I am now, I wouldn’t mind you seeing me coming.”

This is still about a hypothetical assassination, right?

“I suppose that’s how we’ve both changed, huh?”

“It’s not much, but it’s honest work.”

“So what are you thinking about now?” Demetria asked.

“How much I have to pee,” Remora answered. “That’s why I undid the barrier, so I could go to the bathroom, but then I saw you sitting there talking so I figured I’d hold it and sit too.”

“Oh my fuck. Just go to the bathroom.”

“But we’re in the middle of a conversation. It would be rude.”

“That doesn’t matter! We can continue when you get back!”

“But then you might lose your train of thought or I might not feel like talking anymore and just head to bed –”

This is ridiculous. I’m done eavesdropping. I should’ve just left my desk the moment they started talking. Why did they have to talk in the middle of the hallway, anyway?

I got up and headed out into the front of the diner. If those two had anything more to say, they could have at it. As for me, I went into the kitchen to check in on Tigershark.

“Hey, what’s going on?” I greeted after a knock with the back of my hand.

“I made cookie brownies!” She cheered, and I saw a large casserole dish filled with brownies.

“Oh, good. May I have one?” I asked.

“You may have two!”

She put two pieces on a saucer for me and had two on her saucer as well and she jumped down from the stool she stood on and we both walked out into the dining hall and sat at a booth together.

“Mm. Good job,” I complimented.

“Thanks. I was still hungry and sweets are sweet.”

“That they are. Just don’t have too many.”

“I won’t!” She scowled. “Maybe three. Or four. But that’s it.”

We both laughed together as we ate our brownies. Just a few minutes later, Sunny walked up. She looked (not) high, and her eyes were (not) bloodshot red. I suppose she might have moved the stash elsewhere and planned to smoke them some other time.

“Hey hun, you gotta come check this out!”

“What? I’m busy spending quality time with Tigershark,” I replied. And it’s quality time because I’m not hearing about bodily functions.

“I see that, but this is important!” She urged, and motioned us to come to the back with her. Tigershark and I hopped out from our seats and followed. When we reached the hallway, Sunny pointed and went, “aww” and Tigershark and I saw what the fuss was about: Remora and Demetria were asleep, leaned against the wall, and backs against each other.

“I guess that’s what happens when you hold it in for so long,” I remarked, then, realizing I had said that out loud, added, “emotionally, I mean.”

“Aww, so adorable,” Sunny continued fawning over the scene.

“How am I supposed to get to bed tonight? They’re blocking the way!” Tigershark complained.

“It’s okay, you can sleep with us tonight,” Sunny replied.

“Tigershark,” I turned to the child next to Sunny and I, “get the broom and dustpan. There’s something on the floor.”

“Don’t!” Sunny nudged me, “leave them be.”

“Tigershark,” I continued, “I give you full permission to draw on their faces with a sharpie.’

in response, Tigershark grinned and ran off to go find one. While she was gone, I turned to Sunny.

“So, shall we head off to dreamland as well?” I offered.

“Oh yes. Two tickets, please,” she replied and yawned for added measure. We locked arms with each other and strolled up the stairs. I’d like to say that in the coming days, the dynamic between everyone improved greatly, but the truth is, it was more like slow and drunken baby steps.

#writing #stories #remoras full #settling down after a long battle #drama #comedy #slice of life #this took so long #high

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alri-xo · 5 years ago

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Quarantine: Spider Hen (PeterParkerxReader)

A/N: Two in a day?! IM GOING INSAAAANE. So this fic is inspired by the news that Tom Holland bought 3 hens because there were no more eggs in the supermarket and The Simpsons Movie 'Spider Pig' song, by Homer Simpson. I hope you enjoy this fic!

Pairing: Peter Parker (Spider Man) x Reader

Word count: n/a

Warnings: none.

Normal POV

You and Natasha were just done with your morning jog. You sprawled yourself on the concrete, panting. Your chest rising and falling as you breathed. The woman next to you sat down, opening her Hydroflask (not sponsored) and neared it to her lips, cold water rushing down her throat.

"That. Was. Just... Oof." You said panting, as you managed to raise your hand with a thumbs up. She chuckled at you.

"Come on, Lion." She said holding her hand out to help you out.

"Thanks..." you said as you stood up, dusting off the dirt off your body and attire.

Natasha called you that as when they found you, you were next to a giant drum of toxic fluid. It mutated you, your skin for the most part. Being impenetrable by any weapon. So... like the legendary Nemean Lion from Hercules.

As you made it back into the tower, the sweat drying up on your skin. You couldn't wait to shower at this point.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Peter. Why wouldnt you not notice. His fit, slender frame walking frantically around the outside of the tower.

You tilted your head like a confused dog as you saw him looking nervous. But you just shrugged it off and kept walking.

You passed by him and you bumped his shoulder as dozens of feathers came floating, and chickens started to run for their lives away from the both of you.

His gaze met yours, as he embarassed himself yet again. In front of you... The girl he wanted to impress but seemed so hard to do as he kept messing up.

"O-oh... y/n..." he stuttered sheepishly. You just looked at him confused.

"Peter..." you greeted

"What do you have?" Natasha asks... "And why this?" Pertaining to the three chickens pecking on the free grass.

You tried to stiffle a giggle as you watched Peter come up with an explanation...

"See, there were no more eggs at the supermarket. So I just bought chickens... They said there was short supply because of the virus." he said, rubbing the back of his neck, watching the creatures roam around the compound. Clucking and running from place to place.

Natasha fell silent... Quite amused with the excuse Peter provided. "Don't we all need eggs in the morning?"

It felt too quiet, and an idea popped into your head. You tried to chase one of the chickens, running for dear life as you ran around like a crazy person...

You held the chicken firmly in your hands, making sure it wouldn't fly away, as it stared all around the surroundings. Letting out small clucks.

The two heroes looked at you, confused, but they anticipated on what you are going to do next.

Spider hen, Spider hen

Does whatever a spider can't

Can she swing, from a web

No she can't, she's a hen

Look oooout

She is Spider Hen.

You sang in the tune of the Spiderman theme song as you moved around, swaying the poor chicken, dancing. Mentally laughing at yourself at your stupid joke.

Peter tried to hold in a laugh, as Natasha paused for a moment to process what you just did.

Until you heard a voice from the speaker.

"Y/N what the hell are you doing and who bought the chickens?!" Tony's voice boomed.

He may have watched the CCTV footage of you dancing like a lunatic.

"Me, Mr. Stark... I bought the chickens..." Peter confessed shyly as Natasha still held a kinda straight face.

"Well, get in right now. Clint bought 4 cartons of eggs for the week."

Peter whined and slumped his posture, embarassment flooding him as he realized there were eggs all along.

You laughed and put the chicken on your chest... You smiled at Peter, making a blush form on his face as you looked into his eyes lovingly...

"I like a guy who knows how to pick up chicks..."

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading because I was just questioning my entire thought process as I was writing.

~Alri

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nathanieldorsky · 4 years ago

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Interview with Jerome Hiler and Nathaniel Dorsky, May 2021, Leeds, U.K. to accompany an outdoor screening hosted by Will Rose

WR The screening of your work in Leeds will be outdoors in a field at Meanwood Valley Urban Farm. It will be dark of course, but the films will be set against the backdrop of the city and accompanied by the sound of the outdoor environment. I’m interested in how these local conditions might affect your work. What do you think about this, and have you ever screened your work outdoors?

ND When Jerome and I were in our early twenties we would leave New York City for a summer evening at my parents’ house where there was a backyard bordering a forest. We would have outdoor screenings using two projectors and enjoy the superimposed images and their many chance occurrences. San Francisco does not have windless warm evenings and the summer nights are particularly cold, so the inspiration to do this type of screening does not come naturally. But this summer, with the Covid crises restricting our social and screening lives, we had two screenings for six people each on the backyard patio of filmmaker Scott Stark. We were all dressed for a winter sleigh ride and masked with distance between seating. I showed three films I had made so far during the lockdown, one of which, Temple Sleep, you will see this evening. What was particularly lovely were the swaying tree shadows on the screen from the surrounding window lights going off and on. The film felt like it was floating within a larger cinema.

JH Of course, silent films are extremely vulnerable to ambiance, yet there are always margins, and some are larger or smaller so it’s impossible to predict what is too distracting or not. Every screening is a law unto itself. No two are alike – even when there’s an immediate repeat screening. When I send my films out to be rented, they’re like children old enough to be on their own. I wish them luck. That’s about all I can do. Back in 1964 I roomed with Gregory Markopoulos and we were always trying to find some spacious outdoor setting for a night time screening. It never came about, but I feel now that I saw the beginning of an idea that eventually led to his Temenos events in Greece.[1]

WR You have each largely kept your personal filmmaking practice separate from your ‘day jobs’ (Jerome as a carpenter and documentary director, Nathaniel as a film editor) – to what extent did/does your daily work influence or affect the films you make, and vice versa?

ND As an editor one has to be very strict sometimes with a client for their own good … you witness the naked self-deceptions … so when you are working on your own film you almost laugh when this dialogue takes place all within yourself … you see the importance of not deceiving yourself … you see the way you fib to yourself …

JH It has been some time since I worked as a carpenter. The work was all-engrossing and I hardly had a chance to have my films affect that particular work. However, the money I made certainly allowed me to make films. When I was young, I admired the filmmakers who had day jobs that supported their work. I also worked on documentary films and there it was a case of my personal films influencing my documentary style.

WR Your work is very much concerned with the act of filming in the moment – an idea which also seems to extend to the way you would like your films to be experienced. I’m curious about the role history and memory play into this presentness. When you film somewhere, is the history of that place important to you? And are your own memories of that place important to the way you respond to it in the moment with your camera?

ND For me it is the presences and dissonances of light that guide my camera into the world. Generally I am not trying to evoke a place, but in the film Temple Sleep I shifted in that direction; in this case seeing a series of fly casting practice pools as the flooded ruin of an ancient temple of the past.

JH I generally wander at random. Driving in my car – particularly in places that I don’t know, hoping to get lost. I will react to a location. I don’t set out to make a statement, rather I learn and am tutored by the film as it develops. My film has more to say to me in the long run than the reverse. All art works seem to be self-portraits.

WR I understand that you often show your work to friends in private salon screenings. Until relatively recently this was the only situation that Jerome’s work would be presented in. Can you tell me more about these private screenings? And when you make your work, is it is useful to have a particular viewer (someone you know) in mind? 

JH Now that I’m shown publicly, I’m often asked why I “withheld” my work. But, as far as I was concerned, I was sharing my work as much as I could. Living in San Francisco, I was ensconced in such a vibrant and busy film scene with many visiting filmmakers coming through and showing their work. There were many impromptu screenings at different people’s homes. For my part, I would create tailor-made “films” from my camera original to suit the person or people who were attending that night. Then, I would dismantle the reel and re-purpose material for another occasion. This process of using original film resulted in much loss over the years. But, as for making a finished film, I had not found a voice and my attempts, I feared, might be pretentious. Suddenly, I was asked to be in a film show and I quickly finished a film in progress. In this way, I had found my very casual voice.

WR You have been life-partners since the mid-1960s and make films principally for each other. Can you tell me more about how your work converges and diverges?

ND Jerome taught me half the things that I know. His earliest filmmaking awakened me to the open glories of self-symbol montage, that a film is something in itself! Jerome is a bit more the painter and I, a bit more the poet.

WR During the pandemic I have increasingly had the urge to be somewhere that I don’t recognise. I was fascinated to find out that your work is almost entirely filmed within a very small radius of your home in San Francisco. Why is this the case?

ND This is an exaggeration … although it is true that many of my films are shot in walking distance from my apartment. But I would often in normal times go downtown with my camera in a car, park and walk around in a variety of neighbourhoods and environments. I could no longer shoot street or human scenes as if the Covid was not happening. The real issue is that when you travel and shoot footage the footage is seldom as good as something you shot that you are very familiar with. When it’s familiar you have to work harder to make it touch something in the psyche … but a new place is all awe and seduction of the new but the footage one might take there is often not really so interesting as cinema. I have some travel films I’ve made on Kodachrome and have occasionally shown them in my apartment and once publicly at Anthology Film Archives. They looked gorgeous with the original camera Kodachrome going through the projector – now that is a heart stopper.

WR You both have a close affinity to poetry and have found ways to create an equivalent sensation using the medium of film. Nathaniel, I showed your work in Leeds a few years ago in the presence of a very wonderful local poet. Without any prior knowledge, he appreciated it instantly as the filmic equivalent of a poem. Is there some intrinsic essence you can identify which makes film poetic?

ND When film can create for the viewer feelings and intuitions, associations and discoveries, things that cannot be directly said, then it has poetic qualities. Not the false poetry of sentimental narrative, but the sharp present alert quality of light and the screen.  JH I think my films are more akin to music than poetry. Some musicians can tell me what tempos and dance forms my works employ. My subject matter is so truly personal that I doubt anyone else could follow a “narrative.” Though, I have heard a viewer’s re-telling of my film that was both true and sidesplittingly hilarious. You might wonder, “Do I have no regard for my viewer?” Actually, I hope that there is always something for the mind of the viewer to engage with along with the feeling that what you see and feel is, indeed, the heart of the film. The film is really yours. I remember, over so many years, tedious post-film discussions where a viewer stated their reaction and asked the filmmaker, “Was that intentional?” My answer would be: If that’s what you saw, yes, it was.

WR The way light, weather and vegetation are measures of seasonal change is important in almost all your work. How do the seasons play a role in structuring the way you make films?

ND Like poets for many thousands of years, the change of seasons stirs the soul, awakening primordial feelings of birth, death and desire and the need to “sing” of such things.

WR The pandemic has put a temporary stop to public screenings of work that necessitates film projection. This screening of your work in Leeds is a gentle re-connection with a type of art that has been in hibernation. What has been your response to the last year? Have you worried for the future of your art form?

ND I just kept on shooting and vaguely wondering what damage the Covid crises would have on handmade films in public arenas. Luckily my film lab was allowed to stay open as an essential business … I could not agree more … and Eastman stayed open for purchasing raw stock. I found it very difficult to make a film during this crises – though I ended up making six … many quite short as the world had become smaller. I spent weeks at various places in Golden Gate park, a half block from my apartment. After three weeks or so ideas for making films in those locations took place and manifested. It was hard photographing things with this ominous lurking presence, but I found a way by relating to the oppression and trying to make films that were a purification for the impending claustrophobia.

JH This is a very good question. The issue of impermanence has arisen most powerfully this past year. I find myself at an advanced age. I read complaints that my films are impossible to see outside of the larger venues in film capitals. My attention, as usual, has been on the making of films and not at all on their exhibition. I have never felt that video was akin to film. For me, it did not present itself as a substitute. I am considering, very seriously, transferring my films to a digital format. I do dislike the light of digital projectors, but I have to face the fact that loyalty to my first love is taking too large a toll on my work’s appearance on any screen at all.

[1]. Temenos is the name filmmaker Gregory Markopoulos gave to a remote outdoor screening site in the Peloponnese region of Greece. Markopoulos spent the last decade of his life working on Eniaios, an epic, 80-hour film cycle created exclusively for projection at this site. The next presentation screening will take place there in summer 2022. See: www.thetemenos.org

3 Films by Nathaniel Dorsky and Jerome Hiler | Outdoor Screening, Fri, 21 May 2021, Leeds, U.K. link

#Nathaniel Dorsky #Jerome Hiler #interview #william rose

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marvella15 · 4 years ago

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Astaire & Rogers Rewatch Part 7: Shall We Dance

• Something I didn’t consciously realize about this film until reading Hannah Hyam’s book is that Astaire and Rogers don’t dance together until nearly an hour in. That hasn’t happened since Gay Divorcee. What was anyone thinking??

• Shall We Dance suffers from a lot of extra crap that it didn’t need, such as extraneous characters, far too many interruptions in the Astaire and Rogers relationship, and a bunch of weirdness like life-sized dolls, life-like masks, and backbending ballerinas. The film also has a lot of wasted potential, including a great score and songs by George and Ira Gershwin.

The Gershwins were already well acquainted with Astaire and Rogers. The duo had first met when she was starring in the brothers’ show, Girl Crazy, and Astaire was brought in to help with choreography. Rogers was close friends with George and even dated him. Astaire had known the brothers prior, having starred in a few of their shows with his sister, Adele.

• Our characters/actors: Peter “Petrov” Peters (Fred Astaire), Linda Keene (Ginger Rogers), Jeffrey Baird (Edward Everett Horton), Arthur Miller (Jerome Cowan)

• Around the time I was first really into classic Hollywood films, including these ones, my family and I adopted a new dog. I annoyed my parents to no end by suggesting we name him Peter P. Peters. Don’t know why I latched onto that name but I did.

• Even in the massive portrait of Petrov, you can see Astaire has his fingers curled in rather than fully extended.

• Astaire’s ballet attire lets us once again see just how skinny he is.

• Always loved how Peter does a little tap at the rhythmic sound of his name and birthplace: Pete Peters, Philadelphia PA.

• Rogers’ cardigan with all of its baubles is truly awful looking. It will only be out done by a terrible floral dress she wears later.

• I do however like that she shoves her handsy stage partner into a fountain. Why are men constantly the worst?

• “And why must there always be a kiss at the second-act curtain?” is YET ANOTHER example of these films trolling us. Not once up until this point has any act of an Astaire/Rogers outing included a kiss between them.

• Linda’s disinterest in even meeting Petrov is based on the assumption that he’s a “simpering toe dancer.” While that’s incorrect, she’s not wrong that he is indeed another man who has seen a picture of her and wants to tell her he can’t live without her. So she gets partial credit.

• If Peter wasn’t totally smitten before, Linda’s jab, “It’s just a game little American boys play” gets him.

• As a mixed race number, “Slap That Bass” is incredibly unusual for the era. Astaire was a great admirer of African-American dancers and was strongly influenced by Bill Robinson and John W. Bubbles. I love the blend of all of the voices in this song.

• The dance portion of “Slap That Bass” gives Astaire a chance to show off more of his innovative mind and choreography. He dances in time with the sounds of the ship’s engine and compels the camera to follow him across and up the vast set. The dance is also special in that we have behind the scenes footage of Astaire rehearsing, thanks to a home video shot by George Gershwin.

• Peter making Jeffrey believe the boat is rocking may seem a bit unbelievable but having been on a large ship myself, sometimes you don’t realize it’s rocking until you see other passengers weaving or a giant chandelier swaying.

• I usually skip most if not all of Jeffrey and Arthur’s scenes together. They slow down this film soooo much.

• Like in all of their films, songs are sometimes heard in the background before the actual musical number they appear in. But because this film is scored by the Gershwins, there’s an array of shorter pieces of music that are all their own, such as the whimsical score heard while Rogers and then Rogers with Astaire are walking her dog.

• The dog Peter borrows to give himself an excuse to talk to Linda hits his bark cue perfectly and looks extremely happy about it.

• I would love to know what exactly Astaire and Rogers are talking about while walking her dog. Maybe they were given lines that were then not recorded or maybe it’s improv. But it seems very natural.

Rogers did say that Astaire was a wonderful conversationalist and was adept at talking while dancing, something she noted most men couldn’t manage.

• Wow do I love it when Rogers gets to be extra sassy

Peter: “Isn’t it wonderful being here tonight like this? Still on the same boat together.”

Linda: “Oh, I seldom change boats in mid-ocean.”

• “Beginner’s Luck” is such a charming, fast song that Astaire delivers wonderfully. He hardly seems to take a breath.

A jazzed up version of “Beginner’s Luck” is the song Peter tried to dance to in Paris but the record kept getting stuck.

• Something this movie fails at is letting Linda and Peter’s relationship continue to progress before throwing more obstacles in their way. We know from the gossip of the ship’s staff that they have been spending a lot of time together. When we see them, they are having a relaxing evening that’s incredibly domestic: sitting side by side on the deck while she knits and he smokes. Wouldn’t it have been nice to see more of this part of their relationship?

• Why on earth did Peter think sending Jeffrey to fix the false baby rumors was the right decision? Jeffrey can’t handle a single thing.

• Infuriated at the rumors that she’s married to Peter and pregnant with their baby, Linda tries to call him. “Operator! Get me Mr. Petrov. What? Don’t you dare congratulate me!”

• The theme of this movie is supposed to be the blend of dancing and music styles. Peter’s ballet and Linda’s jazz styles are one example, George Gershwin’s varied score, which switches from jazz to waltz to foxtrot to classical, etc, is another. But it’s a fairly weak concept that doesn’t quite land and reportedly, neither Astaire or Ira Gershwin was wild about it.

• I love the new version of “Slap That Bass” that plays as Peter and Jeffrey enter the rooftop club.

• When Rogers sings “They All Laughed,” she is singing to an off-screen Cary Grant, her friend and sometimes date who was visiting the set at the time.

She is also wearing a dress with a horrible pattern. It’s supposed to be floral but it always makes me think of amoebas. Maybe it looked better in color?

• Astaire clearly has fun during the part where Peter hams it up a bit with his ballet next to Linda’s tapping.

• In some ways, “They All Laughed” is reminiscent of “Isn’t it a Lovely Day.” They’re testing each other, trading glancing as they see whether the other can keep up with the increasingly complex steps. Until now, Linda didn’t know Peter could dance this way so her surprise and amusement unfolds slowly as the routine progresses. But he has been grinning since the start because he’s hoping to win her back through this dance.

• This is another duet where it takes a long time before they touch. The first physical contact is just her executing a series of spins with the help of his fingers. And it’s during this part that Rogers finally breaks into a wide smile.

• When he spins her up onto the piano the first time, she happily waits for him to retrieve her. And when he spins her into a seated position and upright again a few times don’t miss how he looks at her with a wry, slightly mischievous smile.

• The Linda doll is so creepy and not lifelike. Who was fooled by this?

Also, Arthur is terrible. Jeffrey is terrible too but he’s an idiot so I’m more willing to let it slide.

• Peter walking out of Linda’s bedroom in the morning in his robe right in front of her fiancé while she is in her negligee is pretty funny.

• Peter and Linda’s nice day out is just further proof that this movie should’ve spent more time on the two of them together rather than breaking them up every few minutes.

• “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off” is a fun song, though Astaire gets most of the good words imo. However, Rogers does do an extra affectation to some of her lyrics and that makes them funnier.

At one point when she’s singing, he turns to her and for just a moment his face goes soft in that way it does sometimes when he looks at her.

• Some film historians have labeled this dance as not that great when compared to other Astaire and Rogers numbers. But I’ve always found it very enjoyable and innovative. While Gene Kelly probably takes the gold medal for dancing on skates in It’s Always Fair Weather, Astaire and Rogers did it first, did it well, and deserve some extra credit for a duet on skates rather than a solo.

Rogers also deserves some extra credit since the idea to dance on skates was supposedly hers. And probably deserves even more credit for doing this dance on skates while also in heels.

• For some reason I really enjoy that they perform this number in their hats and street clothes. It’s so informal and feels like something you do on a fun date.

• Throughout this dance, Peter continues to be the playful one, as he’s been in their interactions in the film, and Linda is the more serious one who needs to be coaxed into having fun. Maybe this is why Astaire frequently glances at her and even spends long seconds watching her at different parts as they move into the next series of steps. Rogers is more reserved in her expressions but whenever they are face to face, she appears happiest.

A few times she looks triumphant, leading me to wonder if they or she had finally nailed a section that was giving them or her trouble.

• Can’t say for certain but I swear she almost falls when they do the backwards steps. She just baaaarely snags his hand in time.

They had to film this dance something like 150 times so I imagine there was more than one time where at least one of them did indeed fall.

• The circular dance they do leading up to the end is based on a dance Astaire and his sister made famous in their time on the stage.

• Apparently the grassy bank they tumble onto wasn’t padded so those fake grimaces of pain aren’t that fake. Their exchange after the tumble feels very much like married banter to me:

Peter: “Yes, it was my idea.”

Linda: “Have you any more of them?”

Peter, exaggerating: “No.”

• They’re such a good match:

Linda: “Peter, you’ve got to marry me.”

Peter: “Why, Linda, this is so sudden.”

• Oh 1930s Hays Code humor. The cop who overhears their conversation thinks she’s pregnant and pressuring the father of the baby into marrying her. Hurr hurr hurr.

• Heh:

Linda: “I beg your pardon but what are grounds for divorce in this state?”

Clerk: “Marriage.”

• It will never make sense to me that a dance was not planned in this film for “They Can’t Take That Away From Me.” It’s a truly lovely song. I know Astaire and Rogers will dance to it more than ten years later in The Barkleys of Broadway but it’s just not the same.

It’s also a good reminder in the film that Peter has legitimate feelings for Linda and she does for him but they’re far more conflicted. Though he must sense he’s hooked her in a bit since he becomes very aloof once they return to the hotel in the stupid hope of making her want him more? Idk, men are dumb.

• “They Can’t Take That Away From Me” carries special poignancy because it became a form of consolation to Ira Gershwin after his brother suddenly died two months after this film was released.

• Oh Linda’s face when she walks in to see Peter with the loathsome Lady Tarrington is so sad and crestfallen. Ever thought you and your crush were finally on the same page only to find them canoodling with someone else?

Although, she could’ve knocked first instead of just walking straight into his room…

• The ballet portion of the finale is weird and unappealing in every way. Harriet Hoctor was known for the backbend dance she does in this film. Maybe it was something spectacular in 1937?? but it doesn’t hold up.

One thing I’ll say about Astaire’s duet with Hoctor, it’s a great chance to see him in a romantic duet with someone other than Rogers and notice how different he acts. No secret smile, no lingering looks, no whispered words, no soft expressions.

• “Shall We Dance” is another upbeat song that deserves more than being featured in the remaining few minutes of the film. Their dance is far too short but wonderful all the same. Her delight when he finds her always makes me smile. She also executes some impressive full length lunges that I couldn’t do at this moment much less in a dress and heels in the middle of a dance number.

For a few seconds, his fingers press into the exposed dip of her spine in yet another example of Victorian hotness.

• And so we finish film number 7. Shall We Dance underperformed at the box office and wasn’t a critical darling. Everyone, the actors included, started to feel the magic was coming to an end. Coming up next is a film I pretty much never rewatch: Carefree.

#fred astaire #ginger rogers #shall we dance #classic hollywood #old hollywood #fred and ginger #astaire and rogers rewatch #all astaire/rogers gifs without credit are mine

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jasonrae117 · 4 years ago

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Night at the Wayne Casino

Part 4

Damian looked the part, he may have stolen a few pointers from the years spent around Jason and Richard, but he was ready to finally get the information he wanted directly from the source. He wore a perfectly tailored Stefano Ricci silk dress shirt in a deep navy, with a few of the top buttons unfastened. He paired it with fitted black pants, a black leather belt with steel hardware, and matching black leather Tom Ford dress shoes. If he was going to attend a party, he was going to make sure everyone knew who he was, if they didn’t know his face, they would know by the sheer cost of his shirt alone.

He was good at commanding a room, it wouldn’t be a problem for him to be the center of the party and get exactly what he wanted. It would almost be too easy, it was a setup for the woman and she would have to play right into his hand.

Damian decided that he would arrive right on time, which was considered early according to Jason. He wanted to scope the place out for details and have a plan in place. He was familiar with all the layouts of the rooms already, it was more to figure out the best vantage points when the place would be filled with bodies. It also gave him a chance to take his time ordering a drink. He often wasn’t a fan of alcohol, especially when he considered himself to be on the job, but he had to play the part. He had to admit that it did ease his nerves a bit.

Something about confronting the woman that plagued every waking thought, and dreams, made something close to excitement bubble within him. He’d finally be able to find out how soft her skin truly was, and if it matched what his brain had envisioned it to be….as part of the act to get her alone so that he could get a confession from Raven.

As the next hour came to pass, he had seen no sign of his target and it was beginning to look like a failed mission for him. He had endured countless women sliding their hands down his arms and some braver ones traveling up his leg. Unfortunately for them, there was only one woman’s hands Damian wanted on him.

No. Damian shook his head trying to clear his thoughts. Perhaps he should have stopped at his second drink, especially since it was bourbon.

The man he stood next to now was droning on about a business idea he wanted to propose to Bruce, but instead of listening, Damian took this opportunity to reflect on his thoughts and feelings for once.

These past few days had proved to him that he was still mentally weak. He let lust seep into his mind and alter what his gut was telling him. When he had seen Raven with Tim, he was furious and regretfully jealous. He had a split second of insanity catching himself wishing that it was himself that had snuck Raven into the security room to taste her skin on his lips. He now came to terms that it wasn’t jealousy but in fact shame in himself, not that he couldn’t get the woman, but rather he let his hormones sway his judgement. And that he wasn’t mad at Tim for being with Raven, but mad at himself that he had almost listened to him and turned his back on his gut. He laughed at himself, this woman was good, he just had to prove it.

Maybe he was just in denial about his feelings?

Damian grunted at his conflicting thoughts and realized that he had gained the attention of...whoever was talking to him. He finished what was left in his glass and addressed the man “Excuse me, my drink seems to be empty and I’d like to get some fresh air now.”

“Oh, sure. We can go outside, I still have to show you our advertising pitch.” The man began to pull out his phone, clearly not catching Damian’s hint.

“Sir, what I mean is-”

“Hold on a sec, it’s right here. You can go grab us some drinks and I’ll meet you outside. I just gotta set up the slideshow.”

Damian cleared his throat. “What I was trying to imply was that I’d rather not discuss business at a party with someone who clearly isn’t important enough to schedule an appointment with my father. I certainly don’t want to be bothered with having the expectation that I’ll actually relay this foolish proposal to him either.”

The man burned red and apologized profusely. He hurried out of the room at almost lightning speed. Damian sighed in relief and scanned the room once more before pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Maybe coming to this party was a bad idea, Raven wasn’t here and he had accidentally made eye contact with a woman at the bar and she began to head his way.

Damian rolled his eyes and weaved through the crowd in hopes to lose the woman and escape to the large and lavish balcony.

The cooler night air alleviated some of the irritation from the lack of activity this party had provided him. It helped to let the fresh air carry away his conflicting thoughts as he contemplated his next move. The better part of him wanted to leave and see if there were any files that needed to be looked at or, better yet, see if Raven had actually been planning to hit the casino when he was busy in this stupid suite. However, his gut was telling him to stick it out and that she would show. Parties in Vegas were always in full swing for hours and he hardly spent two at this one, odds were that she’d spend the time getting primped to seduce more information out of weak-willed men.

The more formal time of the party seemed to have passed as the lights in the suite were being lowered and replaced partially by strobe and colored ones in addition to the increased volume of dance music. People were now flocking to the open space in the middle of the suite and swaying closely to one another. Damian despised dancing and more particularly the modern club dancing being displayed in front of him tonight.

Though he was outside, the music could still be heard clearly through the open doors and thus everyone’s conversations got louder chipping away at last bits of his patience. I’m doing this for Raven...for the team and myself. Right now I look unapproachable, this won’t do. Damian took a deep breath with his eyes closed to focus himself and will the headache away that was imminent. He turned back to the party and made his way to the bar to replenish his drink, at this point in time a little less sobriety would be welcome.

…

Damian glanced down at his watch and noted that three hours have passed since he arrived and by his estimate that the party wouldn’t be over for another three or so hours. He had circled the perimeter many times and had yet to see any trace that she was here or was coming at all. For a moment he thought that Jon was pranking him by sending him to a party under the guise that it was a lead on Raven when it was perhaps a way to get him ‘out more’ like he had always said was his personal mission. However, he knew Jon wasn’t foolish enough to waste his time like this and Jon, himself, was the one to tell Raven about the party and get her the invite.

Jon had come to his room while Damian was getting ready and had told him what he left out in their previous conversation. Damian was furious at first, thinking that Raven had gotten into Jon’s head but Jon insisted he did it to give Damian a chance to observe her without interference from Tim. Of course this was after Jon went on about Raven’s beauty and that if Tim and Damian ended up striking out, he would throw his name into the hat for her affection, which earned him a rough punch to the shoulder. As much as Jon’s teasing annoyed him, he had to admit that his plan was brilliant...if only she showed.

He was yet again stuck in a conversation with another rich and beautiful woman. Had he not been here for work, he may have considered sleeping with her to release his tension and frustration. The conversation hadn’t been particularly exciting, but at least she wasn’t overtly throwing herself at him or touching him inappropriately. She had been talking about a new restaurant opening on the other side of the strip where they specialized in vegetarian and vegan options, which actually sounded interesting, but a flash of long pale legs caught his attention.

He could have imagined it, wishing something was there to make this all not seem like a waste of time, but there she was across the room inspecting the suite’s occupant’s book collection. He was ashamed to admit that he could identify her even though she was bent over and all he could see was her full backside and those perfect legs of hers that popped out of the ruched green skirt. She stood up and turned around, a book in one hand and a small glace in the other, her identity officially confirmed and the heat that rushed to his face dissipating. He mentally scolded himself for spending too much time staring at her ass during all of the previous encounters and the security footage he had re-watched a few times, though it had proved to be useful after all. He had to tell himself that to keep himself from feeling like a pervert.

His intention wasn’t to ogle her while he was watching the footage, he wanted to see if she had patterns or accomplices. But he found himself having to rewind it multiple times because he kept getting distracted by the sway of her hips or the way all of her outfits seemed to cling perfectly to her body.

The woman next to him cleared her throat and crossed her arms over her chest. "You should stop staring at that slut over there and focus on me. She's probably some cheap escort, nobody that's worth your time." She placed her hand on his arm and smiled at him. Oh if she only knew.

"And I suppose you're worth my time?" He faced her.

"Of course, I'm hot and rich. Plus the way I get my money is clean and I don't have to be a whore to get it." She laughed and flipped her fake blonde hair over her shoulder. This woman was unbelievable and it was getting on his nerves, he was grateful he was here on duty so he wouldn't have made the mistake of sleeping with her. Who the hell did she think she was talking about some other woman like that, much less Raven.

"Is that all that matters to you? Looks and wealth?" His eyes narrowed and he pulled away from her.

"Yeah, what else does there need to be?"

"Tt, tell me, how do you get your money?"

"From my father. My family is rich and understands that I don't need to waste my time with work."

"Hmm, I see. You're what? Twenty-four? And you're still sponging off your family, what happens when they decide you're too old?"

"Uh..I marry a hot rich guy. That's why I'm talking to you." She was so nonchalant about her answers it was pathetic.

"How unfortunate for me. I think I'll go talk to that woman over there since I'm fairly certain that she's not an escort."

"Whatever, she's sure as hell not as rich as I am! Why waste your time?"

"The thing is, you are not rich, your father is and you're just an over processed leech. There's more to life than just looks and wealth, besides she's far richer in beauty than any surgeon could ever make you out to be. And I could tell that she's significantly more interesting in the twenty seconds I've looked at her than the fifteen minutes I wasted talking to you."

She was silent and looked at him incredulously. Clearly no one has set this woman straight before.

“Now I suggest you find some other man to sell yourself to, maybe they’re foolish enough to entertain you, or at least smart enough to get you to sleep with them before they get too annoyed by your shallow superficiality. “

“Asshole.” She scoffed and spun on her overpriced heels disappearing into the crowd.

He hoped none of this would get back to his father. Though he wasn’t working, he had been in two confrontations already and it could reflect poorly on the resort. He was well within his right to set those two straight and honestly the company was better off without their patronage, but that didn’t mean Bruce wouldn’t frown upon his treatment of guests since he still had an obligation to uphold a certain image of the Wayne name.

Damian turned back to the space in front of the bookshelf where his target had been moments before. However, she was no longer there and he cursed himself for losing sight of her. He scanned the room for what felt like the hundredth time that night and finally spotted her outside against the railing. He took another brief moment to observe the outfit she had chosen tonight, a forest green tube dress ending just below mid-thigh. The dress had a circle cutout on both sides revealing the bottom of her rib cage to the top of her hips, it was dissected by a gold metal band that matched the metal choker around her neck and the cuff on both of her wrists. Her hair was straightened and flowed past her shoulders and even from his distance, it looked like silk. Her beauty never ceased to intrigue him, even without the flattering clothes, she was a walking goddess. That’s why she is so dangerous.

He had just noticed the two men that were on either side of her. One had his hand on her waist while the other had his arm behind her holding on to the rail. Why was it that every man was attracted to her like moths to a flame? Wherever she went, there always seemed to be at least three pairs of eyes on hers, one of them always his. Even now, there were a handful of men ready to swoop in the get shot at trying to woo the ethereal beauty. It pissed him off and he felt just the slightest bit of jealousy.

He couldn’t just interrupt, it would be suspicious, and she didn’t seem to mind the company of the two men. He had to wait, maybe she was plotting something and these two men were informants. Raven seemed to be good at only talking to the people that could give her useful information, although these men didn’t work at the casino and he didn’t recognize them as anyone important. Perhaps she was in a similar position as him and being plagued by unwanted attention. He had to play it cool, bide his time and he would get his chance.

For the next hour, Damian kept within a ten foot radius of her and kept trying to think of ways to intercept her before the next imbecile tried his luck with her. Much like the trail of men she left in her wake, he too was unlucky in his endeavor. That is until he noticed her heading to the bar for another drink. He still carried his almost empty glass and polished off the last sip before hurrying to the bar and getting there just before her.

He signaled the bartender to come to him when he had a moment and patiently held his glass. Sure enough Raven had filled the empty spot beside him and set her glass down. He forced himself to not instinctively look at her as he focused on the lines of expensive alcohol on the wall.

“Damian? I mean Mr. Wayne.” He looked down at her to see surprise written on her face.

“Miss Roth. “ he nodded.

She let out a short laugh. “I guess every employee knows my name here.”

“I guess you’re a popular woman.” He allowed a smirk to rise on his lips.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. Sounds a bit scary to have the head of security know you by name at a casino you haven’t been to before that’s at least fourteen hours from where you live.” She chuckled and played with the cuff on her wrist.

“You haven’t exactly been a normal guest here either.” Her face turned red at his words and to what he had been referring to.

“Uh…I suppose not.” Raven looked away and shifted awkwardly. The bartender approached them and Damian gestured for her to order first. “Bourbon on the rocks please.”

“Make that two.” Damain cut in and the bartender nodded pouring them their drinks. Damian handed him money to cover both of the drinks plus a decent tip.

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to.” She took a small sip.

“I didn’t, but I wanted to.”

A soft smile graced her lips and she put her glass back down. “So, this didn’t strike me as an event that would require security.”

“That’s because it doesn’t. I am not on duty”

“Oh, I didn’t think this was your kind of scene.”

“Why is that Miss Roth?” Damian faced her and leaned his side against the bar top.

“Well, being the head of security and all and you’re always so...serious when I’ve run into you. Kind, but serious. But I suppose you kind of have to be that way, intimidating.” She looked up at him and her indigo eyes locked onto his emerald ones.

“Am I intimidating Miss Roth?” Damian leaned into her space just a bit, his heart beating just a bit faster. He watched as her eyes glanced at his mouth before darting back to his eyes as a blush danced across her cheeks.

“Are you trying to intimidate me Mr. Wayne?” She cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow, closing the distance a bit more.

“Among other things…” His hand reached up and brushed her dark hair off her shoulder. The action had occurred subconsciously but he reveled in the feeling it gave him watching a shiver run through her body.

“And would those other things be in violation of your work?” Raven’s left hand moved from her drink to his forearm that rested on the bar. He glanced down at her delicate fingers dancing along the thin silk of his sleeve.

“I believe I told you that I wasn’t working right now.”

“Mm, so you did. Tell me, what are these ‘other things’?”

Damian leaned into her to whisper directly in her ear. “I’d like to tell you… or show you somewhere in private, where every other man in the room isn’t glaring at me because I’ve been able to keep your attention for longer than five minutes.”

He pulled back still keeping within her space and noticed her breaths coming in more shallow and the blush from earlier still stained her face.

“How would you know that nobody has been able to talk to me for longer than five minutes?”

“It’s a special skill of mine to observe, especially the activity involving a sort of target.” He smirked at her again. She was falling right into his trap and he didn’t even have to lie.

“Where do you suggest we go then? I’m sure you’ve come up with a plan while waiting for your turn.” She took a step into and he could smell her perfume, sending his mind into a haze.

“My suite is just two floors down.”

“Lead the way.”

He took her hand and briefly admired the way it felt in his. He was starting to feel excited and for once, nervous. He questioned himself and his sanity when he invited her to his suite. He never brought anyone in there, but here he was heading to the elevator with one of the most puzzling women he has ever come across. He was aroused by her and also infuriated with her. When they had reached the elevator and it had opened up the pair stepped in and as soon as the doors closed, his hands were on her waist and hers were on his chest. Their breaths were heavy and there was an intensity in their gaze.

He leaned down to kiss her and if the descent had been longer he would have been able to, but before he knew it, the door opened again. “Fuck.” He had lost control. He grabbed the back of her thighs and hoisted her up. She let out a small squeak in shock but wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He pressed his lips to hers and began walking to his room. Her lips matched his with equal intensity as she pulled on his collar and tugged his hair. When he reached his door he didn’t break contact and simply reached into his back pocket that held his key card and inserted it with ease into the handle.

The green light flashed and he ripped the card out and threw the door open and kicked it shut behind him. He moved his mouth down to her neck and kissed her pulse down to the juncture of her shoulder. Her moan encouraged him to squeeze her thighs which made her grind into him. Her skin was softer than he imagined and he couldn’t contain himself any longer. The tightness in his pants begged for her.

Damian laid her down on his bed and withdrew from her, taking in the unforgettable sight in front of him. She was breathing heavily and her neck bared marks from his assault on it moments ago, her lips were parted and red and her lust-filled eyes were trained on him.

“Damian?”

This was not his plan or intention...or maybe it was. For the first time, he didn’t care about this case, he had denied every emotion he felt and dismissed it as some trick she was playing, and maybe she was even playing him at this moment. But just for tonight, all he wanted was to accept those feelings, that passion, and investigate her, all of her.

#night at the wayne casino #casino au #Damian Wayne #raven x damian #damirae #raven #raven roth #more parts to come #its getting hot in here #Teen Titans

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