#actually m pretty sure only fathers day in america because that already happened

[anshiel]

Happy fathers day TO ME

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY 🎂

[escxpiism]

( olivia holt, 23, she/her ) * hey, i’m looking for the office of ALICE ADAMS. they’re the EMPLOYEE who’s known around the office as THE MASK if that helps ? not to be a gossip, but i’ve heard that they’re ADAPTABLE but JADED, is that true ? i also heard that they’re the one who CATFISHED DAVID HASSELHOFF. anyways, here’s the coffee they ordered.

hi y’all !! i’m may ( 21 // est // she/her ) and i am super super pumped to be here !! i’m also very much writing this against my better judgment ya girl’s running on four hours of sleep and has the option to sleep more but......... is not tired ?? so i do apologize if my mind is secretly tired and makes this intro,,,, even worse than it would be fahouedn. on with the show !! anyway anyway!! feel free to like this if u wld like 2 plot and i will hit u up!!

( also, for some vibes if you so choose to read, here’s the link to her playlist ! )

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

QUICK FACTS:

full name: alice audrey adams

date of birth: october 26th, 1997

*will not perfectly reflect the zodiac big three below because that’s.... math.

zodiac big three: scorpio sun, virgo moon, taurus rising

gender & pronouns: cis woman & she/her

sexual orientation: bisexual

education: ged, bachelor’s degree in film — pratt institute

enneagram: 4w3

mbti: enfp

temperament: sanguine-melancholic

label: the mask

various inspirations: “nutshell” - alice in chains, “santa monica” - everclear, “polly” - nirvana, “jennifer’s body” - hole, “creep” - stone temple pilots, kate wallis ( cruel summer - shhhh ), heather davis ( crazy ex-girlfriend ), satana hellstrom ( marvel comics ), bojack horseman - without the amount of problematic ego ( bojack horseman ), eddie huang ( fresh off the boat ), the great britney spears evolution ( temporarily stopping at circus era )

BACKSTORY:

triggers in order: toxic family dynamic, grooming (nothing super in-depth), kidnapping (? like it was ‘willing’ but no. see next trigger for why), toxic “relationship” (and 11yr age gap w/ a 16y/o we hate it), straight-up captivity, very brief mention of suicide + heroin (very!)

*would like to quickly preface that this isn’t just Dark for the sake of being r/im14andthisisdeep but that’s for a later time **(also! i have markers for where the grooming + Super Dark parts begin and end! -- also, the Super Dark part is all very public knowledge. had articles. media frenzy. first thing that comes up if you google her name) *** also. if u need it then a tl;dr is below this section hfkldsa

alice audrey adams was born to the type of family that names all of their children alliterative names ( however, they sadly didn’t get their own kardashian-style show )... alexis adams (working name, utp if taken as a wc)... alfie allison adams (working name, utp if taken as a wc)... born to anna adams and allen adams... we hate it here.

as u can see... all of the kids were basically named after allen... they all had ‘al’ names.... extremely confusing 

plot-twist: THAT’S the darkest part

the adams were very concerned with public image. as a family in the upper echelon, they simply had to be! a narcissist father, a distant mother, put in competition with her siblings — there was no truly healthy dynamic in the household. but they looked good. they went to church every sunday, a ‘wwjd’ sticker on the back of her mother’s car. they did just enough activities and took just enough trips together to get the image across. they threw parties. they attended parties. they were the picture perfect american family — they even had two cats in the yard! life used to be so hard! 

of course, in reality, this all left ms alice quite the lonely gal. but don’t worry! she didn’t turn to hedonism! lord no! instead, she turned to other people. a lot of friendships — couldn’t tell if they were real or #fortheclout — but at a point, did it matter? 

grooming tw: it all came to a screeching halt when she met luke johnson, the son of their neighbors. he came back from california to georgia to visit family, care for his ailing father. oh, he was a good man! sure, he was ‘somewhat’ older than her — 27 when she was 16 — but he was such a good, handsome young man! and they were all still calling him young man, after all. 

alice ‘began’ a torrid affair with luke after about a month into his visit. although she saw no immediate wrong in it, he insisted she keep it a secret ‘for the time being’ — which really just made it all the more exciting! he made all the storm clouds that hovered disappear.

one day, the levee broke for alice (still figuring out what exactly happened because i don’t wanna go too dark since this is already extremely dark, but trust that it had something to do with her parents and was just enough to push her over the edge). convinced luke was the only safe person, she turned to him. knowing their small community would catch on and essentially exile him, he took that opportunity to convince her to go back to santa monica with him where they could ‘start anew’ after his father’s death.

there are a few details i plan on adding regarding like. how legality playing into it. but i may just reserve those for an official bio lhakfsdfj

**BEGINNING OF SUPER DARK** for a while, there was the question of whether they should consider it a kidnapping or not. she went with him willingly, but she was still underage (and… you know, that age difference… the power dynamic... gross y’all). the adams insisted that it was (bc it basically was lbr) — primarily because it would make them look far better — but the community still questioned the logistics and legalities of it all… ugh. did the police really wanna deal with that? ugh. 

in any case, on the other side of us america, autumn was nearing. alice would have the very occasional inquiry over how school would work (very occasional! don’t worry, luke!), over the logistics of her new life… and, after receiving multiple calls from various friends (in addition to her siblings) that sounded genuine, began wondering… if she’d made the right choice. questions about him.

when she began bringing up the idea of going back — at least for the school year!! — he would continuously remind her that she was not old enough to buy herself a plane ticket (and he was not about to do that). she also couldn’t rent a car yet (and he certainly wouldn’t let her take (one of) his car(s)!). but most importantly? he loved her. and she loved him. (what a creep!)

so, for a hot second, it seemed like she was stuck. damn legalities!! damn love!! you know, until she texted her older sister back with all of the problems that only being 16... and “in love”.... caused. her sister offered to fly down, buy her a plane ticket, and fly back with her. 

when luke saw this (with all the unrestricted access to her phone he had so he could block, delete, and manipulate as he pleased), he confronted her. things went awry. she wound up in his budding wine cellar (which he soon emptied, of course… those merlots :( ….). he messaged back and, as her, said it was actually all good!! luke had figured out the logistics and she could call whenever she wanted!!

and those calls became frequent! because she would pick up when luke held it up to her! because she was pretty sure luke would kill her if she didn’t!

she wasn’t sure how long it was until she was officially Found. it took what was ruled a suicide by luke, a shot to the head and heroin in his system, to finally get any authority’s attention. all she knew was that she went to santa monica in mid june and she stopped seeing regular daylight by late july. so some time in august to some time in april… **END OF SUPER DARK + GROOMING**

she was returned to georgia shortly after and everything was different. from herself to her friends. but everything was also the same. from her room to her family. it was all… teasing. she began going to therapy, but she really sucked at it?? so she just let her therapist rely on various articles that covered the event. because it had been a media circus. good enough, amirite?? 

she didn’t have the will or patience to put on that peppy facade she’d had before, but there were still a few things she found a smidge of joy in. music (although her taste had… slightly altered and wow! it’d been almost a year since she’d picked up that bass!), videography… just those small things, you know?? 

for the first half of the ~ 2014 fall semester ~, she attempted actual school. really was not working out. with, for probably the first and only time, her parents’ approval and understanding, she dropped out and studied for a ged -- shorter and self-led -- instead. 

she passed with a pretty decent grade... but it’s been argued that she really shouldn’t have gotten into pratt institute (she was at least realistic and didn’t apply to, like… cornell), but she did. national news helps. 

while in the concrete jungle where dreams are made of, she learned of masters. she submitted an application as a joke — because her grades sucked!!!!! — but guess who got a job?? oh, she could pretend it was because her selected portfolio was actually genuinely good… but, man… we all know…

fun fact: my uncle applied to harvard as a joke. some twenty-five years later, we still haven’t heard back :\

she… continues to suck. like… she kinda wants the place to eventually burn down?? figuratively speaking (or is it…) but ya, for all the monopolizing she has seen turn people Evil?? but the hell can she do about it… just gotta make sure she keeps her in-house videographer job… maybe she can do something about it when she like… is capable. fuaihoelwdjkn

she sees an in-house therapist and i’d say ‘good for her,’ but it was mandated l m a o 

doesn’t talk about herself all that much!! but that might not matter for some people, yk?? ugh journalism <3 

y’all im so bad at ending intros.

TL;DR:

(consult above trigger list): bright kid in a super rich and toxic family because obviously. everything they did was just to look good <3 also they all had ‘a’ names which is the biggest tragedy of all :( ‘fell in love’ when she was 16ys/o with a 27y/o who was visiting to care for his father in his final days. had a torrid affair. creep. creep (luke) basically made her ‘fall in love.’ she thought creep was the only safe person at one point and creep was like ‘wanna go back 2 santa monica w me?’ and she was like ‘yes.’ and everyone was like ‘was this kidnapping... we cant tell....’ then he became even more possessive when she started questioning him and some logistics. when she finally found a way she could go back to georgia for a spell, he was like ‘no u can go in my wine cellar btw i will be taking all of the wine out.’ he kept her there from august to april and... only reason he didnt keep keeping her was bc he was Caught so. back to georgia where the devil went down. everything was Worse. even the things that were the same. but hey, the sob story that landed her in the news plenty of times got her into a college she shouldn’t have gotten into and gave her a leg-up in a joke application for a job at masters (in-house videographer). really bad at doing her work but like... fuck the man i guess?? 

PERSONALITY + HEADCANONS:

has no time for Fake Nice (which, as a born southerner, she’s really good at sniffing out!). has no time for arrogance. kind of makes her at odds with the nyc upper class...

on that note, still got a lil bit of some georgia twang

she lets herself indulge in various vices, but has left a previous hedonist status. weed and alcohol are still pretty common, but everything else is kept at arm’s length.

also, while on that topic, she Does Not drink wine. being trapped in a cellar... kinda makes u averse. like. literally despises it. will go on autopilot and make it KNOWN if offered wine.

also ALSO while on that topic, after looking it up and seeing she fits the new york city requirements, she has a medical marijuana card <3 the one good thing, if u ask her, to come out of therapy/psychiatry <3 will not show it off unless absolutely NECESSARY bc then it gets personal or <3 will lie about why and say it’s like for epilepsy or sumn unless ur rolfe but <3 she has it <3

at odds with herself. enjoys the company of others, definitely has a history of being an extrovert, but has become very selective with the company she keeps. 

VERY private person! has had enough public standing! 

...has occasionally used her story to advance her tho bc it’s her national newsworthy tragic story and she can exploit it if she wants <3

when good charlotte said “i don’t wanna be in love”?? she felt that. her last ‘relationship’ ruined that for her <3 save her <3 

used to be really into pop! bc pop is fun! she loved some britney (i mean... she still does... how can u not!)! but. her taste has changed drastically. rarely listens to pop. has traded britney for like.... hole and the like.

her parents didn’t use this as the basis for her name but,, 2 me,,, she’s named alice for a reason <3 gotta luv alice in chains <3

y’all i found a youtube comment on a video called ‘nirvana - half the man i used to be’ (the song was, in fact, ‘creep’ by stone temple pilots) and it’s <3 her music taste <3 click here for it <3

the above said, dresses like she’s in seattle in the early 90s. 

her rumor is true btw she DID catfish david hasselhoff and she will proudly tell u. it’s her best accomplishment.

completely stopped talking to her parents and got cut-off a while back ago so now she’s livin like the Prols

which is how a rich kid one of my profs once advised referred to his classmates.... hilarity ensues.

the above in mind, her parents say she’s testing the waters as a ‘normal person’ to save face. they can’t have anyone knowing their family isn’t perfect <3

she has a pet turtle whom she named “dr. turtle,” although he’s constantly referred to as “doc” or “the doc.” he has his own youtube channel and tiktok account.

she has a wall full of evidence that courtney love did not kill kurt cobain... it makes sense, believe me.

became a vegetarian...... partially because it was different from her original life and a way to control something, partially because this commercial made her feel SO BAD.

literally her default mode is stoned like... a totally sober alice is rarer than a nessie sighting

when she was 18, before she could ‘hold her liquor’ as well as she can now, she got a lil too drunk and now has a portrait tattoo of courtney love on her forearm. but it was done well at least!!

kind of ironic considering her career, but RARELY posts on any social media site except twitter. after the media circus in 2014 and All Eyes On Her, she’s just..... so tired...... of ppl seeing her face and being like ‘omg ur that wine cellar bitch!’

(drugs tw) has become more and more Addicted to playing around with fate. j chill on a ledge, talkin to some pals, but deciding it’s a good idea to swing her legs on the wrong side of ledge? totally! mixing a lot of alcohol with opioids which she is not accustomed to? DEF!! (end tw)

more to come!!

CONNECTION IDEAS:

i have two (2) queued up!! but while we wait for them to post, i’ll just… link them over here: 1, 2

muse u <3 the other half of her subplot from the main <3

her older sister!

her younger sibling!

some of the basics!! you know: close pal, roommate, drug buddies (but she gotta hit them up), fwb, ons, frenemies, enemy

ppl who recognize her from the 2014 luke johnson articles and have either brought it up or,,,,,,, act Awkward™

cld be fun 2 just have like. a jam bud. someone who plays any instrument and they j. jam sometimes.

ppl she sells. some of her medical marijuana to. bc yk what weed may be legal in nyc now but,,,, she’s still found a way to be broke she will accept anything. and also it just became legalized THIS YEAR so!!

i have a budding wc page @ https://escxpiism.tumblr.com/wcs (and when i say budding, i MEAN budding) so feel free 2 check it out!!

more to come!!

[miracle-maricat]

Miraculous : The Reveal : a Phone Call Away

Marinette ran up the stairs wiping her tears after she heard the bad news. She was moving to Shanghai! Even though she had an amazing adventure with Fei and Cat noir, moving to Shanghai would mean she can’t be ladybug anymore!

              “Tikki, I don't know what to do! I can’t be ladybug and the guardian from Shanghai! It’s all too much. I can't take it anymore!” She sobs. *Ring Ring* “Oh Alya is calling.” Marinette says as she wipes her tears.

              “Hey Girl, I heard the news. I’m coming over right now stay there!” *beep* Alya hung up the phone.

Meanwhile in the Agrete Estate…..                                                                        

              “Father Please! I don’t want to go to boarding school! I have friends! If i go there I will only be with a bunch of rich snobs!” Adrien pleaded.

             “I have made my decision. You leave in a few weeks.” Gabriel told him sternly. After the door closed Plagg came out and started panicking!

            “This is bad, you can’t leave. Who will feed me my Camembert!” Plagg cried as Adrien looked at him with an annoyed face. “But the truth is that I will miss you 100 times more than Camembert. You're the best Cat Noir I’ve ever had. Plagg said and hugged Adrien.

            “Woah Plagg I’ve never seen this side of you before! It’s so not you!” Adrien explained happily. “We should get going, It’s almost time for patrol with M’lady!”

Back to Marinette’s……..

           “What do I do Alya? This is way too much to handle. And if-if-if I move there I’ll have to take Cat noir’s miraculous because I can’t leave him to protect Hawkmoth alone. I can’t even leave you! You still need training! An-“ Marinette get cutt of by Alya.

           “Relax, Girl you’ll figure it out! You hid your secret identity from me for a long time. And I’m a reporter! You fought Shadowmoth hundreds of times you beat him even when it all seemed lost.”

           “I don’t know how I did it! I was alone! I couldn't tell anyone about how much pressure I was under! And now Master Fu has lost his memory! I just can’t take it anymore!”

          “Marinette, listen to me. You might not realize it but you did have someone to talk to, Chat noir. He knows you the best. And he’s cute too!”

          “You don't mean that '' giggled Marinette “But you’re right he was there for me all this time, I just never took the time to see underneath his silliness, that reminds me I was supposed to get him a gift for his birthday! I have just the thing. “Marinette ran to her secret stash of gifts for Adrien and pulled out a black and green wrapped book. Marinette transformed and swung here yo-yo to the secret spot where she and Cat noir meet before every Patrol.

          “M’lady you made it!” Cat noir exclaimed

          “Of course! How could I miss your birthday patrol, Kitty!” Ladybug said as she started into his green eyes. “Have they alway been that shade of green?” She thought as she felt herself start to blush.

           “What’s in the box? A tiny bed for Plagg? Or maybe it’s a book?” He said curiously.

           “Actually you’re right, Kitty. It’s a memory book. I got pictures of our best moments and put them inside.” She said as she hoped he would like it.

           “…” Chat noir was silent

           “ You don't like it do you.” Ladybug said sadly.

           “No, I Love it! It’s so amazing! But why are there empty pages?”he questioned.

          “ Those are for new memories. For the future!” Ladybug said as she remembered she had to tell him the bad news.

          “ M’lady there is something I need to tell you. I can’t be Cat noir anymore.”  Cat noir said as he started sobbing.

         ���Cat noir? I-I-I can’t be ladybug either.” She sobbed. “My parents decided to move out of Paris and I can't do anything about it.”

          “Why does this have to happen to me? M'lady I’m so unlucky, you don’t even know how hard my life is! And now I have to give it all up! And for what! So my Father Can be Happy!” Cat noir sobbed even louder.

          “Cat Noir I- I don't know what to say. I-I” Ladybug got cut off by her alarm and said “ I‘m sorry Cat noir, See you tomorrow, same time?”

         “Same time” he sighed and wiped his tears.

The next day the both got ready for School having to tell everyone that they are leaving. Right before Marinette entered the school she tripped on a rock.

         “ Woah! You Better watch where you’re going!” Adrien said as he helped Marinette up.

         “DUPAN-CHANG! GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY ADRIKINS!” Chloe screamed loudly across the school.

          “Hey Chloe. I’ve had enough of you picking on me! All you do is hurt everyone! But I’m not going to yell and tell you off.” Marinette said “I believe that you have an amazing person inside of you. All you have to do is let her out.” Marinette said as she tried to hold in her tears from the news she still had to tell. “Hey you guys, I’ve got bad news. I’m moving to Shanghai!”

          *Gasp* Everyone was shocked.

          “Oh no” said Rose “Marinette you're the best Marinette ever! You can’t go!”

          “What!” Exclaimed Adrien “I have to move too!”

         “ How is that possible!” Marinette thought “Me, Cat noir, AND Adrien are all moving! That’s crazy” After school marinette went home to get some packing done with Alya. They packed and talked. They also tried some new power up recipes. Then Alya accidently released the kwami’s, but them got them all back.  Around 9 Alya went home and Marinette went to bed. When Marinette fell asleep Plagg came inside.

         “Tikki, what are we going to do! This can’t be happening. Paris will be destroyed! And it won’t be my fault this time!” Plagg ranted

         “Plagg! Calm down! Marinette will figure something out.” Tikki explained.

         “Bye Tikki!” Plagg yelled.

         “Bye Plagg!” Tikki yelled back.

In the morning at Adrien’s house…

          “Isn’t that weird Plagg? M’lady and Marinette are both moving.” Asked Adrien.

          “Nah this is all rotten cheese. Marinette can’t possibly be Ladybug! She’s Multi-mouse remember?” Plagg answered as he ate his cheese.

          “You’re right.” Sighed adrien “I guess i have to continue packing.”

          “Adrien, these are your last weeks in Paris, enjoy them! And they’re you last weeks with me” play said as he started tearing up.

          “Plagg, come here! I want to give you a hug!” Adrien said as he started to chase Plagg around the room.

         “YOU WILL NEVER GET ME ALIVE!” Exclaimed Plagg.

Later that day…..

        “Plagg, Claws out!” Adrien quietly whispered the transformation words as he went to fight Mr.Pigeon. Again.

        “Hello M’lady! Looks like we got ourselves a Fur-miliar friend!” Cat Noir exclaimed as he got into his battle pose.

        “I’m Glad you’re here kitty!” Ladybug replied. “You know what to do!” Soon they defeated the villain and captured its akuma.

        “M’lady Great Job out there! I would’ve never guessed that he would give the akumatized object to one of the pigeons! You deserve an ap-paw-se(applause)!” Chat noir emphasized.

        “Thanks Cat noir! You too! We would’ve lost if it wasn't for your idea to scare the pigeons.” Exclaimed ladybug. *BEEP BEEP BEEP* “I better get going! I can't show you my identity. Bug out!”

        “WHEEEEEE” Cat noir exclaimed as he swung through Paris. He landed inside his bathroom and de-transformed. “Plagg, why does it smell like your cheese inside my shower?”

         “Well I had to age my cheese somewhere! In my defense it said to put it in a glass container!” Plagg Blabbed. Adrien sighed and went to shower. Then he had a thought. “It sure is weird that marinette and ladybug are both moving! I mean they are pretty similar. No but Marinette is clumsy. BUT! No, that can’t be true.”

         “Adrien you have a photo shoot in 30 minutes! You have 10 minutes to get ready!” Nathalie Told him. Adrien nodded and got ready. He drove to his photo shoot and saw Marinette hide on her balcony.

         “Why would Marinette need to hi-” Adrien was cut off by a red flash. Then Ladybug flew off Marinette's balcony! “OMG OMG OMG MARINETTE IS LADYBUG! I CAN”T TELL HER THAT THEN SHE WON’T BE ABLE TO FIGHT! Oh but I really want to tell her now because Marinette is already so amazing. And her being ladybug is 100 times more amazing! Wait if she transformed that means there is an akuma attack!” Thought adrien. “Ahh there is an akuma attack! He exclaimed and ran to transform. “At least it's not Mr.Pigeon!” Chat noir chuckled as ladybug gave him a new look. “I’ve never seen that look before mar-Ladybug” Cat noir stuttered. “Oh shoot. I almost called her Marinette”

         “Uh-um what look!?” Ladybug quickly responded.  They quickly found a way to defeat the villain and its sentimonster. They said their goodbyes and went opposite ways. “Cat noir? Wait i-”

         “Claws in” Adrien said as ran out of the ally.

         “B-b-bwahhhhhhhhh… ADRIEN AGRESTE, MY ADRIEN AGREST, IS MY PARTNER. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! I loved and hated Adrien or cat noir! I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO CALL HIM ANYMORE!” Marinette panicked. “Tikki…..”she whined.

         “Marinette, it was time you knew. You are the Guardian after all!” Tikki replied.

They kept the secret from each other for almost a month. Adrien packed for larding School. While Marinette slowly packed her room. Everyone was slowly saying their goodbyes. Until one day…

     “I’m leaving tomorrow M���lady! I can’t keep my miraculous anymore if I’m leaving for America!” Cat noir confessed!

    “Cat noir! Don’t say that! We’ll figure it out!” Ladybug pleaded.

    “Plagg, I renounce you.” Cat noir said as he teared up. “I’m sorry Marinette..”

    “M-marinette…You know!? Adrein I know too..” Ladybug Cried.

    Meanwhile…..

    “I knew they were solemates since that time Alex got akumatized.” Luka said as he held up his ship flag. Marinette detransformed And ran up to him crying.

    “I’m so glad it you, Cat noir” She said crying.

    “Marinette? Me too! I mean you're amazing both way! Marinette is amazing. Ladybug is amazing. And you’re both! Like that's Pawsome!”

    “Hehehehe” Marinette giggled “But what is going to happen now? I’m moving to Shanghai, and you……”

    “Well? I’ll only be a phone call away. Besides that? I want to ask you something.” Adrein said happily

    “And what is that, Kitty?” Marinette flirted

    “Will you be my girlfriend, M’lady?” Cat noir asked eagerly

    “ Will I? Of course I will! Now I need to tell Alya! She will never believe me.” Marinette exclaimed.

At school….

   “OH MY GOD! GIRLS IT FINALLY HAPPENED!!” Alya yelled. “Marinette! WHAT IS THIS! WHAT IS GOING ON! Did you actually…You know.. tell him.”

  “ I told him everything! EVERYTHING And I mean EVERYTHING” Marinette said.

  “YOU DID NOT, I swear girl, if you did …..”Alya continued.

               “ He’s my soulmate. HE’S CAT NOIR!!” Marinette whispered.

               “…. WHATTTTTTTT” Alya screamed. “GIrl you need to fill me in tonight! We're gonna have a girls night!”

                “Shall we get to class, M'lady!” Said Adrien

               “We shall! Kitty!” Marinette said. Marinette couldn’t believe she had finally found her kitty. Adrien was beyond excited that he found his love. Later that night at Marinette house. “ Alya I think it’s time.” Marinette said reluctantly.

                “You don’t mean..” Alya started

              “I do! If I’m not going to be ladybug anymore then it’s time they know.” Marinette confidently walked down the stairs and sat her parents down at the table. “ Mom, Dad I have something important to tell you. Actually 2 things. Well the first is that I have a boyfriend!” She said excitedly.

               “Omg Marinette! Who is it!” Her parents blurted out.

               “ It’s Adrien Agreste, actually!” Marinette said super fast.

               “…WERE SO HAPPY FOR YOU!” Her mom said as she teared up.

              “My daughter! The girlfriend of a supermodel” her dad said as he was crying.

            “But there is one more thing…I’m Ladybug.” She confessed.

           “Wait… Hold on, you are ladybug!? That’s why you're always missing your classes and late all the time! You’re saving Paris! I’m so proud-” Sabine exclaimed before Tom interrupted her.

          “My daughter is the girlfriend of a model AND is a superhero! She can’t get any better than that!” Tom told her.

         “Actually.. I can’t be Ladybug if I live in Shanghai. I don’t know what to to. It’s all so hard! You have no idea how hard it was lying to you all the time! And all for nothing!” Marinette broke down in front of her parents.

         “Marinette, sweetie, You are not alone anymore. Even if we move, Paris will be safe. ShadowMoth might attack one or twice but when he realizes that you're not here he will stop.” Sabine comforted her. Marinette still had to move, but she was more sure of herself.

At the Agreste Estate….

         “I finally feel complete. I found my true love! My father might not know any of this but I can do anything without him. Tomorrow I have to leave, but at least I’ll have Marinette.” Adrien sighed. Nathalie came in and told him goodbye and that his bodyguard would take him to the train station tomorrow morning. He nodded and went to bed.

The next morning at the Train Station….

          “Bye Adrien! I’ll miss ya Dude!” Nino said and gave him a fist bump.

          “Goodbye Adrien. Hope I will see YOU soon.*Wink” Alya smirked

          “Bye!” Rose said.

          “Yeah.. bye adrien..” mumbled juleka.

          “Bye Adrien!” Said the rest of his friends Unanimously.

          “Wait….Where’s Marinette?” Adrien questioned as he looked for her.

          “Mgh” His bodyguard grunted singling for him it was time to go.Before Adrein stopped onto the train Marinette came running to him.

“Marinette! You made it! I thought you didn’t wanna come!” Adrien exclaimed!

“Adrien Agreste. Here is the Miraculous of the Black Cat. It grants you the power of destruction. You will use it for the greater good.” Marinette smiled and handed him the ring. He grinned so much everyone was confused.

         “What’s that? Ooh, is it a special couples thing!” Rose asked.

         “Yeah what is it! Everyone asked. They looked at each other and knew it was time.

*Cue Miraculous instrumental theme song*

         “Tikki! Spots On!” Marinette exclaimed while Adrien said “Plagg! Claws out!” They decided it was time the world knew because if they knew each other’s identities they could protect one another. Sooner or later Marinette went off to live in Shanghai. But like Adrien said “I’ll always be a phone call away.”

[ask-the-phan-site]

Phan Cam: The Unexpected Heist

>The Hub. After taking the heart of Sheriff Johnson and Oracle and Violet starting college, we finally have time to keep our promise to the Scorchers and Battle Force 5 to help them reopen the portal of Highway 35 and bring back the World Race.

>We were all gathered together waiting for Oracle’s fellow hackers to make contact.

Me and Sophia have made the necessary precautions just in case the Silencerz attempt to trace us if we are caught.

Good, Sage. We’ll need it.

I just hope the Silencerz don’t realize that the ones hacking them are the people they had to deal with in the past.

Don’t worry. Something tells me they never had to deal with a hacker like me before.

Really? What makes you any different?

Oracle: Ever heard of Medjed?

The hacktivist group? Yeah. Why do you ask?

Brace yourselves. I was the founder.

Scorchers and Battle Force 5: (in shock) WHAT!!!?

You’re Medjed? I can’t believe it. I actually followed their work. Though, I thought how Medjed was doing these days seemed a bit odd. Now I know why. Other hackers were impersonating you. But now, I’m meeting the real Medjed!

Oracle: I was the real Medjed. That was a long time ago. I’m Alibaba now. But Oracle is good, too.

RING! RING!

Oracle: Speaking of Alibaba...

Incoming call from three unknown callers.

Oracle: Patch them in.

>Three holographic screens pop open.

Oracle: Hey you guys, long time no see!

Hey, Alibaba! Still rockin’ the headphones! I like that!

Still loud as ever, Yu-ichi.

Somethings never change, huh, Six?

Six: Yeah, nice to see you again, too, Lunch.

So you’re Fu- I mean, Alibaba’s fellow hackers.

Lunch: Yeah, nice to meetcha. You can just call me Lunch.

Six: I’m called Six.

Yu-ichi: And I’m Yu-ichi.

Six: Which is not much of a hacker name since it’s your real first name.

Yu-ichi: But it’s clever. No one would ever suspect that my hacker name is my real name.

Oracle: Okay, guys, stay with me.

Yu-ichi: Sorry. Hey, are the others coming, too? Spooky? Hitomi? And... what’s-his-name? (Gee, it’s been a long time, so I forgot his name.)

Lunch: They’ve been through enough already. Best to leave them out of this. So, why did you bring us back together?

Oracle: Nothing much. Just hacking into a secret organization’s databanks.

Yu-ichi: (laughing a bit) That’s all? That’s like the easiest thing there is. Give us a bigger challenge.

Six: (a little anxious) Get serious. We don’t even know anything about this secret organization.

Oracle: I’ll tell you about it.

RING! RING!

Oracle: Soon. Right now, our next hackers are calling in.

>Another screen opens.

Are we fashionably late?

I think that’s suppose to be my line.

Oracle: Nope. You four are right one time.

Alright! Let’s get this party started!

Hold on, comrade. I get there feeling there are more guests coming.

Indeed there are.

RING! RING!

Queen: That should be him.

>Another screen appears.

Here I am. Did I miss anything?

Queen: No, Forge san, you made it right on time.

Hold on! You’re Forge of the X-Men. Peter told me about you.

For real? Harry, Makoto, and Captain America told me about him, too.

Joker: And Adi told me.

Mixer: (in awe) Holy- It’s really Forge! Dude, I’m one of your biggest fans.

Joule: Come sono io.

Forge: Thanks. It good to meet a fan and a colleague. Un piacere di conoscerti. Y tú también.

Makoto, how do you know Forge?

Queen: Do you remember that Inhuman student from the school festival? The one who said her friend is a mutant? I looked into those students. The mutant student was visited by Dr. Hank McCoy. Forge san just happened to have come with him.

Forge: We wanted to talk to her before she and her friends left for Attilan. We wanted to make sure that she’ll be ready to go up us or her parents worrying about her getting M-Pox if she’s exposed to the Terrigen Mist. We also wanted to let her know that she’ll always have place with the X-Men.

Joker: That’s good to hear.

I thought you left the X-Men so you could do your own thing.

Forge: I still help them from time to time. Mostly with mutants who’ve just come into their powers.

Queen: I know what you mean. I had to go through Scott Summers and almost the rest of the X-Men to contact you.

Forge: And I still can’t believe you decided to ask me and had to go through all that just to do it.

It was either you or the other Forge. The one who still maintains his youthful appearance from being stuck in another dimension for many years.

Forge: Yes, I know who you’re talking about. I’ve met my Fellow Forge many times. A little rambunctious, but he’s a good person. I even asked him with help on some projects. Including this one I’ve been working on.

>Forge hold some kind of metallic helmet along with his phone which had an app open with the lets “c” and “p”.

Forge: I call it Cerebro Portable. Me and my Fellow Forge created it to help telepaths find mutants within a hundred mile radius. Especially ones who just got into their powers. But it’s not finished yet.

Yu-ichi: Really? How so?

Forge: We tried to design it based on the original concept for the original Cerebro. There’s just one problem.

Sophie: And what’s that?

Forge: There are only two people I know who know more about Cerebro than any and that would be the original creators. Professor Charles Xavier, but he won’t awaken from his coma for eight more years. The other is... Erik Lehnsherr.

Magneto.

Forge: That’s right. And I’m not about to go all the way to Genosha just to ask him to help me create something that he, himself, could use to find mutant to recruit into the Brotherhood or his mutant army. So it may be a while. Hopefully Professor Xavier will be awake by then. But for now, I’ll just settle with getting help from my Fellow Forges.

RING! RING!

Forge: Speaking of which.

>Another screen opens.

Sorry for the wait. Just finishing up with Kurt and the others.

Forge san! It’s been too long.

Queen: Yes, it has.

Forge: I didn’t want to leave him out of it, so I invited him to help out, too.

Other Forge: I’m willing to do what I can.

Joule: I think we’re going to have some confusion here.

Six: Yeah, how do we address one of you?

Other Forge: Well, my Fellow Forge came here first, so I guess we can call him Forge 1. I’ll be fine with being called Forge 2.

Yeti: If that works, we’ll take it.

How did you two meet Forge 2?

Queen: (unsure) Well...

Noir: (smiling) I can tell you. It all started...

>Flashback.

>The streets of Shibuya in the summer before the pandemic. A fast car was driving up wildly. Queen and Noir were coming back from grocery shopping... and Noir was behind the wheel.

Haru, please be careful! These eggs are for a special meal Sis is making tonight.

It’ll be alright. I think I’ve had a lot of improvement.

>The car was zooming around while people try to back off. Suddenly, someone accidentally fell into the street.

LOOK OUT!!!

>The car was about to hit the young man on the street... But it didn’t. The car suddenly was floating in the air. Queen and Noir looked to see that the young man they nearly hit had some kind of device that was creating some kind of gravity field.

Wow! Good thing I came here to show my new anti-gravity generator for situations like this. Hope you girls have your reentry cushions checked.

>End of flashback.

Mona: (unsurprised) That makes sense.

Noir: We exchanged information and we’ve known each other since.

Forge 2: And your eggs were even safe.

Forge 1: And how did that anti-gravity generator work out?

Forge 2: They said they’ll thank about it.

Translation: You were rejected.

Forge 2: Yeah, I figured.

Noir: Why would they? It’s a great invention. It really helped us.

Forge 2: Good question. Either because their minds are too slow or small to handle how advanced my inventions are, or... Well, you know.

Vert: Because you’re a mutant. Now that’s just unfair.

Forge 2: Sounds like you know the feeling.

Vert: (a small smile) Let’s just say, I have secrets of my own.

>For a moment, a small light formed in Vert’s hand which quickly vanished just as I saw something move on his back behind his uniform... I wonder.

RING! RING!

Oracle: Sounds like another fellow hacker’s here.

>Another screen opens.

I’m here and ready for anything.

Joker: Glad you can join us, Player.

Wayne: Yeah, how are things back up there, eh? I haven’t been back in awhile.

Player: Well, things are still quiet because of the pandemic. Other than that, everything’s great.

Joker: And speaking of of how things are, how’s Red chan doing?

WARNING: Spoilers for Carmen Sandiego ahead.

Yeah, ever since V.I.L.E. went down in flames and Zack and Ivy joined A.C.M.E., she’s been pretty quite.

Player: She’s fine. She finally found her mom, but she hasn’t said anything else. But I’m sure we’ll learn more soon. For now, I’ll see what I can do. Thanks again for inviting me.

Oracle: We’re gonna need all the hackers we can get.

Yu-ichi: I know. Hackers are getting younger and younger these days.

Six: (whisper) And yet you ack like you’re getting younger and younger... Don’t change, man.

Player: (smiling) Hey, the Spookies. Nice to meet you. You’re actually one of the reasons I was inspired to become a hacker.

Lunch: Really. That’s good. Of course, our reason for hacking is probably much different than ours.

Player: Pretty much.

Wolf: (a bit surprised) Hold on! Spookies? I thought you three were familiar. I should have realized that when you said Spooky, real name Masahiro Sakura.

Queen: Now that you mentioned it, I think I remember my father talk about a case from another part of Japan. I didn’t think much of it at the time and completely forgot about it.

Yu-ichi: So you know about that? I wonder what he’s doing now. He disbanded our group after some stuff happened and he left to find himself.

Lunch: I’m sure we’ll see him again soon.

Six: Same here. I sort of miss him and the others.

RING! RING!

Sophie: We have another one.

>Another screen opens.

I just finished my start-of-term homework, now I’m all free.

Joker: So glad you could join us, Adi. I just hope the Future Avengers won’t be called away anytime soon.

Adi: No, things have been relatively slow lately, so I think we’re good. But just in case, Mr. Stark and Cap want us on stand by.

Skull: I’m sure it’s nothing you, Makoto, and the others can’t handle.

Adi: I’m sure, too.

Joker: Thanks for helping us, little-brother-may-become-son.

Adi: You’re welcome, big-brother-may-become-father.

>I can sense I made Adi happy inviting him here.

Rank Up!

Confidant: Codec

Arcana: 3

Ability: Technical Act Type 2

Delivers the same effect as Technical Act but to a much greater extent.

RING! RING!

>Another screen opens.

All set and ready to go!

*Chirp*

Oracle: Welcome to the party, Conor. You, too, Chim-Chim.

Mixer: Is that a robot monkey?

Conor: Yeah, I’m allergic to most furs, so I designed him.

Forge 2: Whoa! Robotic technology sure has changed since 1978.

Conor: What do you mean by that?

Forge 1: It’s a long story.

There are so many hackers here.

Joker: I know, it reminds me of that movie Oracle showed us.

Oracle: Yeah, Angelina san was a treasure in Hackers Jackers.

Yeah. So, is that everyone?

Forge 2: Not quite. I have a feeling... that we have a couple more to go.

RING! RING!

Mona: You bet.

>Another screen opens.

Have you guys been waiting long?

Oracle: Just a little.

Thanks for inviting us. We’ve hadn’t had much to do since what happened on Eternia. I guess now that most of the evil of the universe, particularly Lotor, has been defeated, business for the Voltron Force has been a bit slow.

Really? That’s a shame. I’m sure something will come up soon.

Pidge: Well, it’s not totally slow. We do get the occasional bully or mad conqueror. Though, it’s not really the same.

Forge 2: Don’t give up. You guys will see real action again someday.

Pidge: Thanks, Forge-Of-My-Dreams. But for now, the only real action we’ve seen is in our dreams. Like how I dream that I’m some kid with heel problem fighting monsters from Greek Mythology or a pirate kid with a very pirate family or some kid with magical slugs.

Joker: That’s all?

Pidge: Pretty much. But I haven’t been having more actiony dreams. There were two others, but they’re gone for some reason. Though, one of them I’m glad is gone. But the other one I really miss.

Forge 2: Yeah, I think I know. But, you still have me... and our last hacker.

Vert: (confused) Our last hacker?

Queen: Vince isn’t the last hacker we’re expecting?

Vince: No, but Pidge says he knows about him.

Then he knows that he’s just as smart as I am.

RING! RING!

That should be him now.

>Another screen opens.

Sherman: About time. We were afraid you weren’t coming at all.

Yeah, I kinda forgot until I took a siesta and these two reminded me. (he nods to Forge 2 and Pidge)

Pidge: You’re welcome.

Vert: (a bit suspicious) You seem familiar... You wouldn’t happen to know a teen alien who sounds like I used to when I was his age and is accompanied by a little alien robot that sound like you, would you?

Hi-Tech Young Man: (smiling) Maybe.

Spinner: Everyone, this is our cousin, Roberto Martinez. We call him Berto for short.

Berto: Hola, nice to meet you.

Six: Great, now we’ve got three headphones.

Hey, respect the headphones, man!

Mixer: Yeah, dude, don’t start dissin’ the phones.

Yu-ichi: Besides, you’re the one whose only mode of transportation is a skateboard... BTW, you still use for that?

Six: (blushing a bit) ... Maybe... Okay, so I’m still a long ways from getting that fancy sports car I’ve wanted. Business at our family’s store is rather slow these days. Even more since the pandemic hit. But I’m not giving up.

Berto: Hey, no shame in still skateboarding at your age. Look at me. I’m close to your age and I still do it.

Six: Easy for you to say, you look like you have a car. Most likely a high tech one at that.

Berto: Ture, I have a couple, but nothing beats a deck. Plus, it’s good for the environment.

Six: I guess that’s good to hear.

Wolf: So, is that everybody here, or are we expecting more?

Skull: Let me check. Yo, is anybody expectin’ anybody!?

Panther: Well, I did thought about asking Tecna for help, but I don’t want to get her or the Winx in trouble with the Silencerz, so she’s out. But I’ll call her if anything happens.

Skull: Then yup, that’s everyone!

Vert: Now that our team’s been assembled, let’s get on it. Now, I bet most of you are wondering why you’re here. Well, for that... I turn things over to my dad. Take it away, pops.

Thanks, Vert. You’re here because we might have a way to bring back one of the greatest inter-dimensional races ever. However, the secrets to that are locked away in the Silencerz’ mainframe. Your mission, should you choose to accept it (I’ve always wanted to say that), is to hack into their mainframe. In the mainframe, you must find a file containing the research data of the late Dr. Peter Tezla. But be warned, the Silencerz will try every hacker defense trick in the book: Firewalls, anti-virus software, encrypted passwords, security algorithms, even their own viruses and malware. If you do managed to get in and find the file, you have exactly 15 minutes to copy it before the failsafe kicks in.

Adi: Failsafe?

Jack: 15 minutes after the file’s been hacked, said file will delete itself permanently to prevent further hacking.

Forge 1: But if the Silencerz try everything to stop us, it’s going to be hard to get past all that. I think this is going to be much different than hacking into MRD tech.

Sophie: Luckily, that’s where I come in.

>The hackers on the screens (except for Adi, Player, Conor, and Chim-Chim) where confused until Sophie vanishes and reappears on the main screen.

Vince: (surprised) Holy!!!

Pidge: (smiling) I had a feeling that was no ordinary girl.

Yu-ichi: Amazing. An AI with it’s own ego... I wonder if I should tell my cousin Tokita about this.

Sophie: I am Sophia, humanity’s companion. I am going to help you all with whatever I can. That includes hacking into the Silencerz’ mainframe.

Mixer: You know, we have an AI of our own.

Sophie: You do?

??-??: A! I! S! H! A! We! Are! AISHA! ... Sorry, I couldn’t help it.

Sophie: So you must be M.A.Y.H.E.M.’s AI.

Call me In-Su.

Oracle: Didn’t I see you as part of an opening act for August Gaunt?

In-Su: With my sisters, yes. But that was a long time ago. I’m with M.A.Y.H.E.M. now. I mainly help Friday, Mixer, Gremlin, Joulie, and Safeword with cybernetic things, but I have done on-the-field missions... If the field is in Cyberspace.

Sophie: That’s good to hear. Nice to meet you. I guess we will be working together. I look forward to our mission together.

In-Su: I so will I, sachon*.

*”Sachon” is Korean for “cousin”.

Conor: Hey, if you’re gonna do something like this, me and Chim-Chim want to go into the virtual world.

Chim-Chim: *chirp chirp*

Lunch: You can do that?

>Conor shows he has some VR equipment.

Lunch: I guess that works.

>Conor connects the VR headset to his computer and Chim-Chim connects to it as well. Within moments, they were jacked in and something appears on the main screen with Sophie and In-Su.

Conor: Alright, all buffed up and ready for action! (begins singing) Here they come. Here comes Conor and his monkey, Chim-Chim.

>We all just stare... Which of us will be the first to ask?

Six: Oh, god. And why do they both of mustaches?

Vince: I’m guessing to match.

Yu-ichi: (smiling) I kinda like it. It’s actually quite clever.

Conor: (satisfied) Ha, I knew it! Take that, Lucy.

Pidge: Go with what works for you.

Jack: True. But remember what I said, the Silencerz will do whatever it takes to protect its secrets. I should know, I used to be the leader.

Vert: I wonder who took after you when you left.

Jack: (looking a bit down) Vert... I think you have pretty good idea.

Vert: I... I see. Well, we’ll still be able pull this off we work together.

We will. We can do this.

Vert: Thanks, Ren.

Jack: Again, I have to warn you, the Silencerz don’t play around. This is your last chance to back out. If you do, I won’t blame you.

>The other hackers were showing some doubt. No doubt they were thinking about what Jack said... However, their doubt quickly fades.

Player: Our friends wouldn���t have called us here if they didn’t we could handle the risk. We trust them.

Safeword: He’s right. They even helped M.A.Y.H.E.M. with a little something. Time to repay the favor.

Conor: Same with me, Chim-Chim, and our friends.

Vince: And us, too.

Lunch: I know this is the first time we’re meeting Alibaba’s friends, but we will help them.

Adi: Me and the other Future Avengers trust Ren, Yusuke, and the others.

Forge 1: We also just met, but we trust you.

Forge 2: Yeah.

Berto: (curious) Espeda, M.A.Y.H.E.M.? Racer Academy? And Arus? Aren’t those the places the Phantom Thieves... You know what? Never mind. I don’t wanna know.

Taro: (smiling a bit) Good. I don’t think you could keep your mouth shut.

Six: Look, what we’re trying to say is that we’re in. We’ll help you.

Jack: (with a look of gratitude) Thank you all.

Taro: Good luck, you guys. The fate of the World Race and Highway 35 is in your hands.

No pressure or anything.

Six: Believe me, we’ve seen through demons in a cybernetic world.

Safeword: Fight an evil organization everyday.

Player: What Safeword said.

Adi: Ditto, with a side of other villains.

Conor: I think we can handle it.

Vert: (smiling) Then let’s get to it!

Oracle: I’ve already got a lock on the mainframe. Ready when you are.

Conor: Ready as we’ll ever be.

>With that, Chim-Chim transforms into a motorcycle and Conor gets on.

In-Su: How are we suppose to keep up with that?

Oracle: Leave that to me.

>Oracle programs something into her laptop and something appears on the main screen.

What in the world!?

Oracle: I hope you don’t mind. I just thought we’d go with something more appropriate. This Johanna pretty much has all the things the original has for extra protection. Sophia, you’re driving. In-Su, I’m adding a side car for you.

>Oracle types something on her computer and a side car appears on Cyber Johanna. Sophie switches to her Phantom Thief attire.

Are you ready, In-Su chan?

In-Su: (now wearing a purple helmet with M.A.Y.H.E.M.’s fleur-de-lis which was blue on it) Ready.

Conor: Then let’s get going!

>With that, Sophie and In-Su get on Cyber Johanna and they, along with Conor and Chim-Chim, ride off.

>A little later, we were at the mainframe of the Silencerz. It was shaped like a giant tower with the Silencerz’ logo on it.

Sophie: This must be it.

Yu-ichi: You can already tell that they’re hiding something here.

Forge 2: And we’ll find out those secrets soon enough. Time to get to work.

Lunch: Let’s see what we’ve got here.

>Lunch begins hacking into the first line of protection.

>Meanwhile in the Silencerz’ Headquarters in an unknown location, an alarm goes off in the computer room.

We have a problem. Call #1.

>Almost immediately, another Silencer comes in.

What is it, #2? What happened?

Silencer #2: Someone is trying to hack into our mainframe.

Silencer #1: So what else is new? Have you got a lock on where the source of the hacking is from?

Silencer #37: (don’t ask, we’re using their numbers) Not yet. We are still trying to find it. But we have got a lock on the hacker’s virus.

Silencer #5: I do not know what to make of this.

Silencer #1: A virus based on a ghost? Then I suggest you try busting it.

>Some of the Silencerz began typing something.

>Back in Cyberspace, the Spookies’ virus was phasing open a way when something appears near them. They looked like four men in jumpsuits curing some kind of large device on their backs that had guns attached to them.

In-Su: (confused) Are those... the Ghostbusters?

Jack: I told you, every trick in the book.

>The Cyber Ghostbusters begin firing at the Sppokies’ virus ghosts.

Conor: Time to go to work, Chim-Chim!

Chim-Chim: *chirp*

>Conor and Chim-Chim begin fighting off the Cyber Ghostbusters. In-Su and Sophie join in as well. In-Su’s dance moves already makes her a capable fighter and Sophie was swinging her yo-yos. After a while, Sophie, In-Su, Conor, and Chim-Chim manages to beat the Cyber Ghostbusters, but they had completely destroyed the Spookies’ virus.

Safeword: Our turn now!

>Safeword, Joule, Mixer, and Yeti, begin typing.

>At Silencerz HQ...

Silencer #20: This does not look right. What do we do?

Silencer #12: Try typing “cookie”, you idiot.

Silencer #1: Hey, be nice. And I do not think that would work. I have seen this movie before. Try regular anti-virus software.

Silencer #20: Yes, sir.

>Back in Cyberspace, the first few defenses have been broken though. Suddenly, a bright light flashes and the virus is deleted.

Forge 1: (smiling) You ready for this?

Forge 2: (also smiling) You know it!

>Forge 1 and Forge 2 upload their viruses.

Forge 2: Scott, this is for you, man.

>The two viruses begin attack the Sliencerz’ other defenses. Vert was looking at Forge 2′s virus.

Joker: Is something wrong, Vert?

Vert: Something about Forge 2′s virus that reminds me of someone... But I’ll think more about it later.

>Back at Silencerz HQ...

Silencer #3: Now we have viruses based on mutants?

Silencer #2: Be nice. One of my relatives was a mutant.

Silencer #1: Either way, we cannot let them through.

Silencer #3: I know.

>Silencer #3 begins programming something.

>Back in Cyberspace, Forge 1′s virus and Forge 2′s virus managed to break through more lines of defenses.

In-Su: It looks like we’re making progress.

Conor: Keep it up, you guys!

>Suddenly, something appears... Something big.

Forge 1: That can’t be good.

Sophie: I can help them with this. Time to show you my own power. Persona!

Pidge: (surprised smile) Whoa! I didn’t think she had one, too.

Vince: But there are robots who do.

Six: I think I read something about that... And dreamed about it.

Berto: Like I said, I don’t wanna know.

>Sophie and Pandora fight the Anti-Virus Sentinels along with the Forges’ viruses.

Player: With them busy, looks like I’m going up to the plate.

>With that, Player begins typing something and a new virus comes up. It looked like Carmen Sandiego, but a little blue.

Player: I hope Red doesn’t get too upset for changing her colors.

>Player’s virus begins using an enlarged version of her laser cuter to cut through the defenses.

>Back at Silencerz HQ.

Silencer #7: They are still coming!

Silencer #1: This is getting out of hand. Have you found the source of the attack yet?

Silencer #37: It is hard to tell. They are coming from multiple sources.

Silencer #1: See if you can find the closest source. We will start there.

Silencer #37: Yes, sir.

Silencer #40: I will deal with the current virus.

>Back in Cyberspace, Player’s virus has cut through more of the mainframe’s defenses and the Anti-Virus Sentinels have been deleted.

Oracle: There’s only a few left. Keep going, we’re almost there!

Adi: I think I have something that’ll move us faster.

>Then, a virus that looks like a queen bee appears with a swarm.

Adi: I got the idea from some children’s show. I’ll tell you more about it later.

>The bee viruses begin helping Player’s virus cut get through more of the defenses along with the Forges’ viruses. Suddenly, something flies up.

Adi: These guys don’t quit, do they?

>The virus swarm fights off against the security algorithms with Sophie, Pandora, and the Forges’ viruses while Conor and Chim-Chim break through the last of the walls.

Conor: Just a little more...

>Finally, the last of the security walls were gone. But no sooner they were, a blast of flames came and nearly blew Conor and Chim-Chim away!

Conor: GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!

In-Su: You mean great walls of fire. It’s a firewall. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.

Pidge: Hold on, I have something that could help you.

>Suddenly, some big gun that resembles a lion appears in In-Su’s hands.

Vince: This wind blaster will help blow out the flames. But don’t use it now. Wait until you’re on the other side of the wall to use it, or you might blow the flames at the files and destroy them.

In-Su: Right. Here I go.

>With that, In-Su dances her way through the flames until she finally got to the other side.

In-Su: Stand back!

>Then, with a large blast of wind, the firewall was out. Conor and Chim-Chim go in.

In-Su: Okay, we’re in.

Jack: Well done, kids! Now, the file you’re looking for is labeled “200335″.

Oracle: We’re searching now.

>Outside the mainframe, the security algorithms were still coming.

Sophie: This looks bad, we’re running out of room. If only we had at least one more to help us.

Berto: Leave that to me! I’ve got the perfect thing!

>Berto then uploads his own virus.

>Berto’s virus assists Sophie, Pandora, and the Forges’ viruses as In-Su, Conor, Chim-Chim, and the other hackers search for the file.

>At Silcencerz HQ.

Silencer #20: Damn! They are in the mainframe.

Silencer #1: You still have not found them?

Silencer #3: We might be able trace them if they find they file they are looking for.

Silencer #1: Then do it.

>With that, the Silencerz begin their work.

>Back in Cyberspace, the Silcencerz’ security algorithms were finally defeated.

Sophie: We did it! Thank you all.

>The viruses gestured a “You’re welcome” to Sophie and disappear back to where they came from.

Vince: That virus of your, Forge 2, it makes me wonder.

Forge 2: Wonder what?

Vince: If... If I should have asked my dream brother from New Olympia to help us, too... Oh well, I’ll ask him next time.

Vince: You’ll have to get through his Big Buddy, Hunk’s dream brother. And I don’t think my own DB would be too happy. Especially after everything that’s happened in recent months. But I’m sure I can talk him into it.

Panther: Dream brother?

Queen: You mean...

My gift of connecting people’s minds and hearts with my singing strikes again.

Conor: Hey, I think we found it!

>Conor, Chim-Chim, In-Su, and Sophie who joined them, found a file that looked like a file cabinet. One of the drawers was labeled 200335.

Jack: That’s it!

Sophie: We found the file. Let’s copy it.

>Sophie opens the drawer show many files. No sooner did she open it, it starts flashing and making a siren sound.

Spinner: (covering his ears) Yikes, that loud!

Jack: That’s the alarm for the failsafe. You now have 15 minutes to copy the file before it deletes itself permanently.

Oracle: Leave it to me. I’ll just use the same program I created to copy Makoto’s Sis’s computer.

Queen: Let’s hope it works on the Silencerz’ mainframe than it does Sis’s.

>Oracle enters the program and it begins to copy the file.

>At Silencerz HQ, the computer room was now flashing and alarms were ringing.

Silencer #3: They are copying the file! Now, if I could just... Got it! I got a lock. The source of the copying is coming from... some town nearby.

Silencer #1: You mean... Handler’s Corners.

>Silencer #1 begins to leave.

Silencer #9: Sir, where are you going?

Silencer #1: (turning back) To visit an old amigo.

>With that, Silencer #1 leaves. Suddenly, the alarm gets louder.

Silencer #20: What is happening!?

Silencer #3: This looks bad. Someone else is in the mainframe. They are also copying the file.

>Back in Cyberspace.

Oracle: This doesn’t look good. There’s someone else here. Someone’s also copying this file.

>Sure enough, something comes out of the file cabinet. It was a little blue bad... wearing a pair of glasses and had the most ugliest comb-over ever.

It’s Strega! What the hell do they want?

Vert: Who?

Taro: Some cult.

Oracle: If they’re also copying the file, then us copying it will be difficult.

Lunch: So, we may not be able copy the whole file?

Yu-ichi: Well that sucks.

Player: I’m sure I think I might help with that. I mean, I can’t stop Strega from also copying the file, but I think I have an idea what may happen and how to solve the problem.

Oracle: I hope so.

Jack: Hurry, only 9 minutes left.

>Oracle’s program tries its best to copy the file which is difficult as the program from Strega (most likely made by Jin) is also copying the file.

Jack: Only 6 minutes.

Oracle: We’re almost done.

>Before we knew it, only 4 minutes left. Please copy it.

>3 minutes. Not much time left and the copying is still going.

>2 minutes. There’s still more.

>1 minute. Almost there.

>59 seconds... Come on. Come on! COME ON!

>10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

FILE DELETED. CONNECTION TERMINATED.

>The main screen goes to static. Then, Sophie is re-projected back with us, In-Su returns to M.A.Y.H.E.M.’s computer, and Conor and Chim-Chim are back in their real world forms.

Panther: Conor, Chim-Chim, are you two alright?

Conor: (a little dizzy) We’re fine. We’re used to this sort of thing.

In-Su: I’m fine, too. My source code is a little frizzy, but that can be helped with a quick fix.

Joule: You’ve earned it, In-Su. Enjoy your nap.

>With that, In-Su shots off for now.

Vert: So, did we succeed in copying the file?

Oracle: Let me check.

>Oracle checks the copied file.

Well, I’ve got some bad news, good news, and some stressful news.

Agura: I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be easy.

Oracle: Bad news: We weren’t able to copy all of the research data. Good news: We did manage to copy most of it. Stressful news: Most of it is encrypted. Until we can decipher the code, you guys are going to have to wait a little longer.

Taro: I figured as much.

Berto: But with all of us, we should be able to crack the code.

Mixer: Afraid you’ll have to count us out. We didn’t tell Persephone that we did this and she’s got a strict policy about messing with organizations other than L.E.G.I.O.N. without her permission.

Yeti: (looking down) ...

Mixer: (panicking) YETI, YOU TOLD HER!? SHE’S GONNA PUT ME ON COFFEE DUTY AGAIN!

Safeword: I see. If that’s the case... I’ll take a double shot expresso.

Joulie: I’ll take a mocha.

Mixer: (shocked) Seriously?

>With that, we bid our M.A.Y.H.E.M. friend fair well for now and they leave.

Conor: Chim-Chim and I have to bow out, too. Speed will be back any minute and I don’t want him to know what we did. I wanna keep it a surprise.

Pidge: Me and Vince have to go, too. I have a few castle defenses to upgrade.

Vince: And I’m on standby. I know business is slow, but Keith says peace time is the best time to prepare for anything.

Joker: Right, see you all later.

>With that, Conor, Chim-Chim, Pidge, and Vince sign off.

Adi: The rest of us will stay and help you decipher the code.

Player: With Red on break, I’ve got time.

Oracle: Thanks, you guys.

Berto: Guess I better let Max, Steel, and Ferrus know I’m gonna be busy for awhile.

Sherman: We’ll back you up.

Berto: Gracias.

Spinner: That’s what primos are for.

>With that, Oracle and our hacker friends begin their work to unlock Dr. Tezla’s research to reopen the portal to Highway 35 and bring back the World Race.

Oracle: But I am curious about one thing: What does Strega want with Tezla’s research?

>Meanwhile in an unknown location...

Crap! Of course the Phantom Thieves would be after this file.

Yeah. Talk about rotten luck.

Uh-huh.

Maybe you should have some kind of alert for them.

Jin: I’ll think about that. Right now, thanks to their hacking into the Silencerz’ mainframe for that file, I only copied most of it, but not all of it. Not to mention it’s encrypted.

I wouldn’t say that. I’d say that you copied plenty. And I’m sure with our new allies’ help, we might be able to unlock all of Dr. Tezla’s secrets.

Jin: Why are we even doing this, anyway? Since when are we interested in a long forgotten and completely no longer popular race?

Takaya: You would be surprised by what one can learn from things like this. After all, there are many ways to achieve your goals. Am I correct?

>Someone comes out of the shadows... in a dance-like manner.

That’s right, ghosty boy. I bet even M.A.Y.H.E.M. couldn’t think of something like this.

Jin: (a bit confused) Even though they were just in the mainframe as well.

Gaunt: A minor mishap. Something we’ll fix soon.

Myles: With a voice like that, it’s hard to say he’s wrong.

Evan: Uh-huh.

Gaunt: (with a small bow) Thank you.

Jin: So, can L.E.G.I.O.N. help with deciphering the code?

Gaunt: Maybe. Even we can’t work miracles that quickly. Just look at me. At first, I was only partially restored. I didn’t even have my-

Jin: (quickly with a frown) Okay, okay, we get the picture!

Takaya: Soon, we’ll gain what we’re after... Soon...

>What will happen next?

NOTE: We apologize if this post is a little long. We thought this would be the end of this heist, but like we said, this post was a little long. The last post for this heist will come soon.

[avengerscompound]

The (not so) Natural Father

The (not so) Natural Father:  A Captain America Fanfic

Avengers as Parents Drabbles Thor | Clint | Natasha | Bucky | Sam | Bruce | Tony | Rhodey | Scott | Wanda | T’Challa | Steve

Buy me a ☕

Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  1233

Warnings: Parenting Fluff

Synopsis:  The super serum made Steve good at a lot of things. He’s not so sure if parenting is one of them.

The (not so) Natural Father

“Daddy!”  The sound of his daughter, hysterical and crying filled the air as she came flying through the house.  Steve looked up just in time to catch the tiny bundle of energy as she flew into his chest and buried her face in it.  Steve’s arms automatically closed around her.

As the leader of the Avengers, it had become a long-running joke that Steve was the dad of the group.  Despite the fact if you just looked at how long he’d been awake and experiencing an actual life he was one of the youngest members of the team.  It was pretty common to hear either Clint or Tony spout off a ‘Yes, dad’ when he gave them an order they didn’t want to follow.  They told him he gave the best ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed’ speeches of anyone.  That he always knew what to say when one of them was low.  So when you’d fallen pregnant the assumption by everyone was he’d just be a natural.

People did keep saying he was a good dad.  So why did he always feel like he was questioning every single decision he made?

From small things to what brand of diaper they should wear as babies.   To more important things like where they should go to school.  Everything that he did in relation to his children he double guessed.  The only thing that had come easily to him was vaccination and that was just because he’d lived through a world where those childhood diseases were all running rampant and he knew from first-hand experience how important it was.  Even still, when their little faces looked at him like he’d betrayed them and started bawling he felt guilty for doing it.

Sarah sobbed against his chest.  That whole body, can’t catch your breath, cry that only small children can really pull off properly.  “What’s wrong, little one?”  Steve said, holding the little girl against him and rubbing her back in small circles.

“Ja - Ja - Jamie - pu- pu -pu - pu…”  She stammered through her sobs.

“Honey, deep breaths.”  He said, rubbing her back in small circles.  He sighed.  Here was a problem he faced regularly.  His children took after him too much.  It was almost like they only got his genes.  His eyes, his hair, his nose.  Even the super serum passed on to them, and he’d never even considered that as a possibility.  He’d always assumed that that would be something he carried in his blood.  Not something that had fundamentally altered his DNA.  They also got his very strong ideas about what was right and what was wrong.  Given they were still small, that was narrowed to trivial things on the larger scale of the world but so very important in the eyes of children.  They also very occasionally ended up in small violent outbursts as sometimes happens with children and was perhaps the least surprising thing any children of Steve’s ended up doing.  “James!”  He called out.

Sarah’s chest heaved and she tried speaking again.  “H - he - he pushed me over, daddy!”  She wailed and hid back into her chest.   Her tears started to soak through his shirt.

“Are you hurt?”  He asked, still rubbing her back in small circles.  “James!”

“M - m - my knee.”  She wailed.

Steve sat her back and looked at her knee.  There was a small scrape but it had already started healing.  In the next few hours, it would have healed.   Steve lifted her up in the air and kissed her knee, following up by blowing a raspberry on her stomach.  “James!”  He yelled as he settled her down on his lap again.

The miniaturized version of Steve stepped through the door his hands in his pockets and a scowl on his face.  “James,”  Steve said, his best ‘I’m not mad just disappointed voice.  “Did you push your sister?”

“Yeah, but she…”  James protested.

“James, when is that ever the answer?”  Steve said, feeling quite hypocritical really.  He knew one day that particular question was coming back to bite him in a big way.  He really needed a better speech for situations like this.  Now was not the time to improvise though.

“But, daddy she…”  James whined.

Steve narrowed his eyes.  “James.”

The little boy dropped his head and kicked the ground.  “Sorry, daddy.”

“I’m not the one you should be sorry to,”  Steve said.

“Sorry, Sarah.”  James poured.

“Now what do you think you can do to make her feel better?  She cut her leg.”  Steve asked.

James’ face scrunched up as he thought of a solution to the problem.  “I could get a band-aid and kiss it better.”

“Will that make you feel better, Sarah?”  Steve asked.

Sarah nodded her head and James ran off.  He returned a little while later with a packet of Sesame Street character Band-Aids.  Steve took the box and help put a plaster on Sarah’s knee.  James then kissed it better.

“That was very kind, Jamie.  Now did you want to talk about what upset you so much you pushed your sister over.”  Steve asked.

“She -”  James started before taking a big breath in.  “She tried to take the lego I was using and then she knocked down the whole thing. It got all smashed.  I told her not to.”

“Sarah is this true?”  Steve asked.

“I just wanted to play too,”  Sarah whined.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.  “You really upset your brother.  How do you think you can help make up for it?”

Sarah looked at her brother and scrunched her little face up while she thought.  “I could get him a cookie.”  She suggested.

“That’s not really…”  Steve started.

“No, I want a cookie.  A cookie would make me happy.”  James said.

Sarah wriggled out of Steve’s lap and the two children ran off in the direction of the kitchen.  Steve sighed and got up following after them.

You were in the kitchen stacking the dishwasher when your two children came running in.  “Daddy said we can have a cookie.”  They said over the top of each other.

“He what?”  You ask standing up and watching them as they start pushing furniture around so they can climb up on the benches.  You narrow your eyes at Steve as he stepped through the door.

“I didn’t say they could.  I did the whole, fix the issue thing.  I thought she would say rebuild the thing she smashed.”  Steve explained.

You reached over to the cookie jar and took it out of their reach.  “And Sarah said cookie instead?”

Steve nodded.  “I really have no idea what I’m doing, most of the time.”

You chuckled and pulled two cookies out of the jar.  Sarah and James climbed down and stood in front of you bouncing on their feet.  You handed them each a cookie.  “Just one, and you can go outside and play with Kitty.”

“Okay, mommy.”  They said in unison and ran out the back door.

You put the cookie jar back again and came over to Steve and wrapped your arms around his neck.  “I let the kids name our dog Kitty.  I feel like that most of the time too.  You’re a natural.  Don’t worry about it.”

“You think?”  Steve asked looking down at you.  

You reached up and ran your hand along his jaw.  “I know.”  You said, and leaned up and kissed him.

[luckyspike]

Adventures in America, Ch. 7 - The Mix-Up Kid

In which the storm chasers enjoy the delights of a Waffle House

Adam learns Warlock’s birthday

And a storm brews ahead

Yes, figuratively, but also literally. This is a tornado-chasing fanfiction, honestly. Did you think I wouldn’t actually put a tornado in the damn thing?

Start from the beginning: ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6

or follow this link to my fanfiction tag

-

Adam could have whooped when Noel informed him and Lucky that they wouldn’t be meeting in the lobby until eight the next morning. “There’s gonna be storms, probably to the northeast, but it’ll be afternoon by the looks of it. Get some sleep tonight, boys, an’ we can meet up for a late breakfast and decide where we’re headed.”

They didn’t unpack much - pajamas, toothbrushes, and that was about it. Adam took a hot shower, quick as he could, and when he got out, he found Lucky laying on top of his covers, earbuds in, face-timing with a friend. Adam gave him a thumbs-up - his turn for the shower if he wanted it - and settled onto his own bed, pulling his phone out and making sure he was connected to the wifi before he texted his parents to see if they were awake - they hadn’t been, but they were so eager to hear from him that they took his call, voices thick with sleep but happy nonetheless. He could hear Dog snoring on their bed in the background.

They were happy to talk to him. They were glad to hear he was having fun, and reminded him to be careful and stay safe. He told them about Lucky, and Noel and Rachael, and everything he’d learned so far. “It sounds like a good experience,” Arthur Young said. “Just ah … you do know when the tornadoes are coming, don’t you?”

“I mean, largely. They can be unpredictable.” He heard his mother make a worried noise. “No, mum, but like, they have this program called Baron, it’s running all the time, and it shows radar and gives warnings, and Rachael and Noel have been doing this for ages, so they’re really good at it too. And careful.” He considered telling them about the safety precautions Noel had reviewed earlier, but considered that the things he had warned them against might actually be more alarming than the safety instructions that followed, and he decided to leave it out. “Anyway, you don’t need to worry, promise. How’s things at home?”

“All well and good,” his mother replied. “We miss you of course, and Dog misses you - he was sniffing around in your room the day you left - but Anathema said she’d have a word with him and he’s settled down since then.” He heard the dog’s collar jingle as his mother, or father maybe, presumably gave him a scritch behind the ears. “He’s a very good boy.”

Adam grinned at the unmistakable sound of a small dog’s tail wagging so hard it was beating against the bed cover. “Aw, yeah. Give him a hug for me, yeah?”

“Of course, love. Arthur, hug Dog, would you? He’s closer to you.” Adam’s mother yawned, drowning out some of the grumbles in the background and the sounds of more happy tail-wagging. “Have you spoken to your friends? Oh, and Anathema and Newt asked about you this afternoon.”

“Not yet, figured it’s kind of late. I’ll send an email.” He yawned as well, prompted by his mother. “Maybe in the morning. You can tell them I’m good though, if you see anybody.” He yawned again. “Sorry, I’m kind of beat.”

“Jet lag,” his father answered sagely. “You ought to get some rest then, Adam.”

“You guys too,” the boy added earnestly. “Sorry to call so early - I’m all messed up with the time zones -”

“No, Adam, we’ve been waiting to hear from you.” He smiled, and the slight ache of homesickness that had settled in his chest as soon as he’d boarded the plane lifted a little at the warmth in her voice. “Text anytime, love, and we’ll talk if we can.” She blew a kiss into the phone. “But get some rest for now, alright? Sleep well, and let us know how tomorrow goes!”

“Will do, Mum, Dad. Talk to you guys later. Lots of love.” He ended the call, and sat back against the pillows, continuing to tap on his phone, sending the video of the hail storm off to the group and his sister. To his surprise, Pep texted back almost immediately, sending a message of ‘Dude what!’. He paused. Then he called.

“Hey storm rider!” she answered. “What’s up, Adam? Cool video!”

He couldn’t help but grin. “Hah. What are you doing up?”

“Driving in to London with the girls later today, and I couldn’t sleep. Hopefully Addie is willing to drive because I’m going to be napping.” She yawned. “So how’s America?”

“Crazy.” He laughed. “I went to Dunkin Donuts this morning.”

“Mm. America runs on Dunkin, I’m told. You meet anyone cool?”

“Well, the people I’m with are really cool.” She made a curious little noise. “So there’s Noel and Rachael, the guides - I told you about them. They’re super nice. And I think between the two of them they might know everything about weather. We drove for like, 11 hours today, and you know we only went through two entire states?”

“Wow.”

“And I napped for part of it but a lot of it they were teaching us stuff … Man, Pep, there’s so much.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “I know you guys always made fun of me for how much I talk about weather sometimes, but honestly I don’t know like … anything.”

“Well, maybe not compared to the experts,” she teased. “But compared to me and Brian and Wensley you know way more than any of us.” She coughed. “So who’s ‘us’ on your trip? There’s another student?”

“Oh! Yeah. He’s cool.” Adam heard the shower shut off, and wondered how much he should really say. “He’s American, but he lived in London for a while, he said. You know, I think his dad might have even worked at the air base?”

“No,” Pepper laughed. “No way. Only you, Adam, would find the one American in the entire world who even knows about Tadfield and grew up in London. And of course he’s obsessed with weather. You should find out if he lived in Tadfield at any point, like when he was a baby or something.”

Adam considered it. “Nah,” he said at length.”What’re the odds?” He yawned, as Lucky stepped out of the bathroom, dressed only in boxers, scrubbing his hair dry with a towel. “I’m sure we’ll talk about it at some point.”

“You’d better. Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, me too.” He heard the sound of sheets and pillows being pushed around. “Might try to get a couple hours before I have to go.”

“‘M gonna go to sleep too.” He let his eyes drift closed. “Jet lag’s brutal.”

“I bet. And all that time in the car probably didn’t help.” She yawned again. “Can you send us more videos tomorrow?”

“If I see anything, yeah.”

“You think you might?”

“Dunno. Everything’s supposed to happen in the afternoon, so we’re gonna wait to see what the morning looks like.”

“Well. Send us stuff even if you don’t see anything. Send us videos of weird Americans.”

“Yeah, okay. Talk to you later, Pep.” He hung up the phone, laughing while he did so.

Lucky flopped into his own bed, yanking the covers up over himself. “Friends?”

“Yeah, back home. Pepper.”

“Isn’t England like … six hours ahead of us?”

“Yeah.” Adam shrugged. “I dunno, she said she was up. Figured I’d give her a call.” He grinned at his phone, before locking the screen and plugging it in to charge. “I sent the gang a video of the hail. Most of them prob’ly never seen hail that big before.”

“Yeah, that was wild.” He folded his hands behind his head. “Hope we get a tornado tomorrow.”

“That’d be cool.” He sighed. “Pep told me to send more videos. Said if there wasn’t anything interesting in the weather I could send her videos of crazy Americans.”

Lucky laughed. “I’ll act extra crazy tomorrow if we don’t get any weather. You can send her a video.”

“I’m not sure she’d count you since you grew up in London.”

“Nah, only until I was eleven, and even then other than the like … the housekeepers and the gardner, everyone was American. Well, except Nanny. But she was Scottish.” He shrugged. “Then my dad got reassigned back to the States and I’ve lived stateside ever since. So I’m pretty American.”

“Eleven?” Adam asked, pointedly not opening his eyes. “Huh.”

“Yeah it was weird.” Lucky yawned. “There was this whole thing in the middle east and then boom, back to America, no more England. Honestly, I think my mom was just sick of random diplomatic trips. I’ll tell you about it some time, that whole trip to the middle east was so weird.”

“Yeah,” Adam replied, faintly, feigning fatigue. “Yeah, gotta remember to tell me about it. Never been to the middle east.”

“You’re not missing anything. Avocado farms and weird professors and that’s about it, far as I remember.” He shut the light off, and rolled over, away from Adam. “G’night, dude.”

“Night,” said Adam, on autopilot. Minutes later, he heard quiet snoring, and all the better, because his mind was racing.

Most eighteen-year-old boys are, by nature, not particularly introspective. They may be bright, the may be clever, they may be well-educated and top of their class and very high-achieving, but it’s the rare boy who is capable of reflecting on all of the information presented to him, reconciling it with what he already knows, and then reaching accurate, logical conclusions that may be distressing to him. Often, denial worms its way in early, and until the correct answer knocks the boy in question directly on the head, the powerful lure of denial will always draw him away, convince him that another conclusion is more likely, or more desirable.

Adam Young, though, was not most eighteen-year-old boys. To start, he was the Antichrist, even if he’d turned his back on that years ago and preferred not to think of himself in those terms. Further, he was quietly introspective, a trait he’d developed due to, well, being the Antichrist, and always, in spite of himself, watching his own thoughts for hints of Not Being Adam. Messing About. Antichristly things, essentially.

That could be to his advantage even now, though. And right now, his mind was cranking into overdrive, combing through what he knew. Warlock Dowling - father might have worked in Tadfield, was working in England when Warlock - Lucky - was born, Lucky was raised in England. Satanist nanny and monk gardner. Random trip to the middle east when he was eleven, followed by a sudden departure from London, never to return to the UK again. Or the middle east, come to think of it.

Adam wondered if he had stayed in touch with anybody from London. Particularly, the nanny and the gardner.

It all sounded very suspicious.

“We would have been with you from the beginning, you know, but there was a mix-up,” Aziraphale had told him once, years ago. Adam remembered that he’d gone to Aziraphale crying - it happened sometimes, more then but still these days, blessedly rarely - about what he’d done in the few brief hours when he really was the Antichrist. The things he might have brought about. The fate he and the world had so narrowly avoided. “We would have loved to be with you.” Adam remembered how the angel had hugged him, stroked his hair, dried his tears. “It was an unfair burden to lay at your feet, Adam, and Crowley and I always wanted to help but … there was a mistake. Best laid plans, and all that. It doesn’t undo what was done, and I am frightfully sorry about the lead-up, the way we treated - or didn’t treat - you, but know that had we known, we would have been there. But Adam, even then, you were brilliant. You are brilliant.”

There was a mix-up.

Warlock Dowling snored gently.

- 

The next morning dawned hot and humid. Lucky and Adam woke with the alarm around nine, and lazily set about getting ready for the day. Adam checked his phone to find messages from his friends about the hail storm (“don’t let those brain you,” from his sister and, “dude what if it hits you,” from Brian), replied when he felt it was indicated, and pulled on a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt. Lucky was ready to go shortly after, and they stepped out of the motel room and into the air. Lucky made a noise of disgust.

“Talk about humid.”

“Ugh, yeah,” Adam agreed, trying to ignore how his t-shirt was already sticking to his skin, even though he’d only just come outside. “Good storm weather though, yeah?”

“Should be. I’m sure we’ll get a look at the radar over breakfast.” He rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get us a tornado today, huh?”

“Or some serious hail,” Adam agreed. A part of him - a large part of him - wanted to say sod it to the weather and have a serious talk with Lucky about his upbringing, his birth, his life to that point. How old was Lucky? They were roughly the same age, Adam knew that, but they could easily be a year or so apart, and all of the stuff that sounded suspiciously occult might have just been a coincidence. After all, it was all relatively easy to explain, in the harsh light and oppressive humidity of the Oklahoma day: American diplomat posted at a British airbase, family moved to the nearest metropolitan area, lived there for years, made a brief foray to the middle east - and America was so involved there around that time, Adam remembered, that that was hardly unusual - and then returned to America. Unusual, certainly, but not … occult. And having a diplomat for a father wasn’t exactly commonplace, so even then a bit of unusual-ness could be forgiven.

The Scottish Satanist nanny, though, reared her presence in his mind. The monk gardner. Good and evil.

Adam shook his head, when he realized that Lucky was speaking to him. They’d walked to the truck together while Adam thought and, on autopilot, he had set his stuff in the bed of the truck and closed the gate. Noel and Rachael were nowhere to be seen, not yet, but Adam thought he heard them talking on the other side of the motel. “Huh?” he said, looking to Lucky.

“Nothing,” the other boy shrugged. “Just talking about the radar. All this moisture and warmth - if we have any cold air from the northwest at all, we run a really good chance of catching a storm today.”

“Yup.” Adam leaned back against the truck and looked around the parking lot idly, arms crossed over his chest in spite of the heat. He met eyes with a stranger - a businessman, by the looks of him, dressed all in brown, with neatly-combed salt-and-pepper hair - that was sitting on the trunk of his rental car, reading a book. The two exchanged taut smiles, and the stranger returned to his book. “Hopefully out in the middle of nowhere, where we can get a good luck without too much people an’ stuff being around.”

“Yeah, that’d be ideal.” Lucky waved to Noel and Rachael as they approached. “Hey guys!”

Rachael raised her thermos in greeting. “Morning morning! You guys ready to hit it? The radar looks pretty good.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yep.” Adam opened the back gate of the truck for her, and she tossed her bag in. “You hungry? I’m starving. Hop in, we’re gonna hit the Waffle House and go over the game plan.”

“No Dunkin?” Lucky looked surprised.

“Gonna mix it up today, get exciting.” Noel snickered. “And also she has her own bag that she used to brew a pot in the room earlier this morning, so she’s already fueled-up.” He dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “She’s an addict, guys, I’m telling you.”

The boys laughed, while Rachael pointed out, “There’s worse things. Alright, load up, we have a storm to talk about, and I want some waffles!”

The Waffle House was such a uniquely American experience that Adam started taking video almost as soon as they entered. From the way the entire restaurant greeted them as they walked in, to the waiter’s accent, to the menu itself, he sent all of the snaps to his friends. There was no reply, not when it was so early in England, but he looked forward to the messages that would probably come through later, after everyone was up. 

He tucked into a truly massive waffle and two eggs for breakfast, topped with a few strips of crispy bacon. It tasted exactly like he’d imagined it would, and he devoured it with gusto, finishing before Rachael even got through her second cup of coffee. Noel, still working at his omelet, pulled his laptop out of his bag and handed it over the table to Adam. “Check out the radar, Adam, and see what you think. There’s some really interesting stuff shaping up; let me know where you think it might be.”

Adam cracked the computer open. Next to him, Lucky studied the screen intently with dark eyes while Adam poked the cursor around the radar screen, randomly at first, and then slowly in a more organized fashion, tracing fronts and pressure systems, gradually hovering more consistently over a spot in mid-Kansas. Lucky nodded, never speaking, when he agreed, pointing at times. Across the table, Noel and Rachael shared companionable silence, Rachael with her coffee cradled in her hands and Noel slowly working at his omelet.

“Ready to show your work?” Rachael gestured to Adam to turn the laptop around, after he and Lucky had exchanged a few words and seemed to settle on a location. “Let’s see it.”

“I think,” Adam said slowly, pointing to the screen, “the best shot of anything happening is going to be right around here.” 

“Hey!” Rachael grinned broadly. “Nice job, guys!”

“Yeah?” They exchanged a high-five. “Yeah!”

“Maybe a little more east,” Noel added, after he’d swallowed his last bite of omelet. “But really good for day two! What made you settle on that area?”

Adam and Warlock traded off explanation duties as Rachael settled up with the waiter, she and Noel adding information and correcting them as needed. In the truck, they settled in, Rachael in the driver’s seat for the first leg, and set course for Kansas. There wouldn’t be as much lecturing today, Noel assured them, and although Adam was eager to learn, he was truthfully a little grateful for the break. As they drove across the plains, he and Lucky put their headphones in, Adam listening to his downloaded playlist of tried-and-true favorites while he took video of the blue skies and white clouds, saving them to send later, when he could get to wi-fi. Around nine, he did get a text from Aziraphale - Crowley’s phone, of course, but the grammar and punctuation gave the angel away - bidding him to stay safe and out of trouble. He smiled, faintly, and settled back in the seat to watch the landscape drift by.

Lunch was sandwiches from a little deli they passed on their way through a town for gas. Adam savored the turkey and cheese in the back of the truck, Noel informing them that the time would be tight for the afternoon storms and they couldn’t afford a proper stop. He must have drifted off after he ate, because the next time he woke it was because Rachael had nudged his knee. She pointed to the screen of her laptop, excited. Adam leaned in. “Look at this,” she said, excited. Adam nudged Lucky, who had likewise drifted asleep with his headphones in, and ignored the muzzy noises the other boy made as he woke. “See the body of it there? It’s been holding steady for the last hour.”

Adam squinted. “Is that a hook echo?” He pointed to a part of the screen. Rachael, thoughtful, turned the screen to look. “Ah, no! But it might be an elephant trunk-type signature …” She studied it for a few seconds. “We’ll keep an eye on it. You awake, Lucky?”

“Mm yeah.” Still blinking the sleep from his eyes, Lucky unbuckled his belt, the better to lean forward and study the computer.

“Check out the base velocity data.” She changed views, and both boys blinked. “Do you know what you’re looking at?”

“Not … really.” Adam cocked his head. “Something about the wind speed in relation to the radar site?”

“I think I’ve seen it before,” Lucky chimed in. “Is it … wait. Green away and red toward? Or red away? Or is it speed …”

Rachael shook her head. “Not quite, but you guys are already ahead of the game - a lot of chasers your age don’t know anything about base velocity until after their first chase. So Lucky, it’s red away, and green toward.” She pointed to the screen. “Doesn’t really have anything to do with the speed of the winds, just how they’re moving in relation to the weather station. So when we’re looking for rotation, obviously, we want to see red and green really close to each other, right?”

“Makes sense,” Lucky agreed. 

“So look here.” She pointed. “Now this stuff up here -” she twitched her hand to gesture vaguely at a scattering of red amongst green, “- I think is just artefact but this, this looks concentrated. See that?”

Adam and Lucky exchanged a look. “Like, it’s the dot, right?” Adam guessed.

“More or less.” Rachael flipped back to the regular radar view. “But you see how it correlates to a high-precipitation area? Means there’s probably a mesocyclone in there.” She clenched and unclenched her fingers, excited. “We might get a tornado today, guys. Definitely a lot of lightning, if the precipitation holds together.”

“How far out are we?” Lucky asked, shifting anxiously in his seat.

Noel answered this time. “Probably an hour or two. We should start seeing some more interesting clouds soon. Keep your eyes peeled.”

Adam and Lucky settled back, each looking out of their own window, while Rachael and Noel talked about something else - photography, something with Rachael’s lightning set-up - in the front seat. 

“Have you ever seen a tornado?” Adam asked Lucky, as he craned his neck to see more to the front of the truck.

“Oh, yeah! Not up close, but one time in Virginia there was a little one and I could see it from the back yard. It didn’t last very long, but it was really cool. You?”

Adam thought about the tornado in Tadfield, when he was eleven. “Nah,” he said, stuffing the memory away. “Been in a few bigger storms, but you know … England.”

“Yeah, really severe weather isn’t really a big thing over there, huh? They get tornados though sometimes. I think.”

“Really little ones usually, yeah,” Adam agreed. “They don’t last long, normally, or do much damage.”

“I know another chaser from England,” Noel chimed in as he drove. “He comes over for the season every year. We were talking about it one time, he said that England has the second-most tornadoes per land area in the world.”

“Seriously?” Adam blinked.

“Yeah, but it’s a small area.” Lucky frowned. “And they’re not big?”

“No,” Noel agreed. “Not usually. He lives right in what he calls England’s tornado alley.” He laughed. “A little southwest from London I think he said? I can’t remember the name of the town. Most of the twisters there are around 95MPH wind speed, so they’re not really that powerful, but he told me he chases over there sometimes, if he’s home when they’re around. He showed me a few photos.”

“It was pretty cool - you don’t really think about tornadoes in England,” Rachael chipped in, absently. “Where in England is Tadfield, Adam?”

“Northwest of London,” he answered, using the city as a reference point. “About, oh, two hour drive I think, usually.” He did not add that most of the recent times he traveled to and from London by car, the car was being driven by a demon, and travel time was therefore significantly reduced. “It’s not a big village at all. Biggest thing there is the air base, and even that’s pretty small now. Population-wise, anyway. It’s mostly computers.”

“I think that’s why my dad got reassigned to London,” Lucky said thoughtfully. “Plus, you know, diplomat. London made more sense I guess.”

“Yeah it would do.” Adam looked sidelong at the other boy. Lucky didn’t notice, staring out of the window. “So you were born in London?”

“No, actually. It’s kind of a crazy story - my parents were supposed to fly in to the air base together, but my mom ended up having to go alone for a few days because there was something with the president? I dunno, Dad never actually said what it was. But anyway Mom flew in and then like, went into labor while she was staying at the air base waiting for him, so I ended up being born there.” He shook his head.

“Oh.” Born at the air base. Adam could have laughed with the relief of it. Another thought occurred to him. “Aren’t pregnant women not supposed to fly, though?”

“I dunno, probably.” He shrugged. “I guess when the president says go, you go.” He snorted. “And then, so like, she’s at the air base, but then she said they didn’t have a doctor that knew how to deliver babies? So she had to go to this weird hospital with nuns to have me. Worked out in the end, Dad got there after I was born and we went to the place in London like they’d planned.”

Weird hospital with nuns. The words echoed in Adam’s ears, in between the pounding rush of his own heartbeat. Weird nuns. Satanic nuns, maybe? How do you ask if someone was born in a hospital full of Satanic nuns? 

“Wild story,” said Rachael from the front seat, but as far as Adam was concerned, she might have been a thousand miles away. “See the clouds up ahead?”

“Supercell!” he heard Lucky say, distantly, and the other boy - the other boy who was born in a weird hospital with nuns, to a politically-connected family, and then raised by a satanic nanny and had a monk for a gardener, and then went to the middle east when he was eleven - leaned forward to start chattering on with Rachael and Noel. About storms.

Adam loved weather, but at the moment, nothing could be further from his mind.

“When’s your birthday?” he blurted out, stopping the other three mid-conversation. And then he blinked, realizing what he’d done, as Rachael and Lucky looked to him, puzzled. “Sorry, never mind, wasn’t paying attention.” He forced a weak smile.

“August 23. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Adam lied, immediately turning to look out the window. “Wow, check out that cell!”

“... Yeah. It’s big.” Lucky looked over to Rachael, who had raised her eyebrows questioningly. Even Noel was glancing curiously between the two students in the rearview mirror. Lucky shrugged at Rachael, the universal ‘I have no idea’ gesture. “You alright, Adam? Really?”

“Fine.” We have the same birthday, born in a weird hospital with nuns, we’re probably the same age, they thought I was him, they thought he was it, it was him, it was this guy …

“Nerves are totally normal,” Noel said a little more quietly, not taking his eyes off the road, or the storm cell ahead. “Don’t worry - we’re gonna get plenty of videos if anything happens, but we’ll keep our distance. It’s early still - by the time we’re five weeks in you’re gonna wanna drive the truck yourself.”

It was him, he was the mix-up, it was - And then Adam stopped himself, because some part of him realized that this wasn’t productive, he wouldn’t change or alter anything with this line of thinking, and furthermore, he was in the back of a truck which was headed straight for what looked, on radar, to be a supercell with significant tornadic potential. “No, it’s fine,” he insisted, with a shake of his head. “No, I’m sorry. Sorry, really, I think I’m just still a little messed up from the time change, but I’m fine. Seriously,” he added, when Rachael and Lucky looked to him, radiating concern and curiosity. “Let’s do it - I’m so ready.”

Rachael watched his face for another minute and then made a decision, apparently, because she nodded ever-so-slightly, and turned back to her laptop, maneuvering it so the two in the back seat could have a better view of the screen. “Good, because you see that on radar?”

“Hook artefact,” Lucky breathed, as Adam watched the picture twist on the screen, the red blob at the center of the storm leaving a trail to the southwest that was just so slightly starting to curve north-easterly. 

“I think so. Let’s take a look at the base velocity.” As she switched views she grinned, and Adam saw what she was moving to point toward right away. “See it?”

“Mesocyclone?” Adam asked, eyes wide, insisting his brain focus on the task at hand. There would be plenty of time to really process the fact that he was sitting with the other Antichrist - the not-Antichrist, the mix-up kid - and hunting tornadoes with him later. 

“I think so.” Rachael looked up, out of the windshield, and the students followed her gaze. Ahead, the clouds towered, gray and ominous and piled on top of one another, all the way up to the stratosphere. “Looks good for a tornado, guys.” A bolt of lightning shot through the clouds, illuminating pockets and curves. “Let’s get it.”

-

Now with Chapter 8!

[thecauldroncake]

He Cried (A Bucky Barnes Oneshot)

Fandom: Marvel's The Avengers

Pairing/s: Dad!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warning/s: Tiny angst, fluff, probably grammar and spelling errors here and there?

Word Count: 1,782

A/N: This just came through me and I realized it was Father's day as well so why not post one? Hope yall like it!

***

James Buchanan Barnes was born in the time when men were expected to be strong, physically and emotionally, given the stench of the looming death the war gave off. Tears were only acceptable at times of great dread, losing someone maybe the only one. The last time he thought he'll cry was when he bid goodbye to his loved ones as he was shipped to the war in Europe.

That changed after seeing the hopelessness in Steve Rogers' blue eyes, he was donning the Captain America suit at that exact moment, but all he saw were the eyes of that skinny guy in Brooklyn he always looked out for. After that, all was snow, cold air and the warmth of fresh hot tears escaping their confinements from his itching eyes. Death, indeed.

Then, HYDRA happened. How he wished he could've just died. How he wish the last tears he'd spent on was the pain of his death, but no. HYDRA made his life his living inferno. He's alive, at the mercy of rooms full of killers, making him one of them in the process.

Decades later came the unexpected. Bucky has turned into a new leaf after the so-called Civil War. His time in Wakanda healed the wounds, it indeed left scars, but it's better than having them all fresh in his-- and everybody's mind. The time and space pave the way to the Avengers' reunification; him, Steve and Tony most especially. That's when he met you.

Again, time worked its wonders. Now, he was sure the lone drop of tear he let on when you said the magical word 'Yes' while he kneels in front of you, with a ring box and a diamond ring he carefully picked almost half a year ago and was kept in great care all those times, would not be the last of this new kind of tears.

Tears that he never thought he would get and deserve. Tears of joy.

Your wedding day came, more of those came. Even the Avengers did so, it's not everyday they can be vulnerable, but for you guys, their tears were those of happiness, knowing you and Bucky deserve it. He wouldn't even want to talk about how much of those tears were shed when he first heard the wails coming from the then small, yet already lovely Rebecca Grace Barnes, or Becca, as you blurt out upon the first time you cooed her in your arms, your and Bucky's daughter.

Presently, you were roaming in your seat with your phone's video recorder on, gauging the Avengers', your family's reaction, to the thing before them; Becca, now four years old, in her first school performance. Soft giggles made its way pass your lips, before landing your lens to the person besides you. You focused your video camera on him for a few seconds, him still oblivious on what you were doing, before setting it into a stop and putting your phone back to your bag to enjoy the show, with your head resting on his shoulder while he reached for your forehead to rest a soft kiss there.

***

Although it wasn't a surprise Bucky turned to his best friend, Steve Rogers, to be Becca's godfather, Tony is sure as hell would give everything to be called Becca's stage uncle. After dinner, he set up the Audio-Visual room knowing you had captured the whole performance. He almost hired a professional videographer to film the whole thing and you have to bribe him with your famous cupcakes to stop him from doing so, that it was over-the-top for a seven minutes school performance. Everybody heaved a sigh of relief after he accepted the bribe and voice out their agreements with you.

The performance never failed to give smile on everybody's faces, as if they're seeing it the first time again. Once in a while, Becca would purposely look at your camera and wave, make a face, giggle and technically all she did was things that makes your hearts flutter, especially yours and Bucky's.

You two made this ethereal, fluffy human being. Lovely as she can be, it's pretty obvious how all of the Earth's Mightiest Heroes are wrap around her plump adorable fingers. You can't help the surge of pride running into your every nerves realising the job well done you made so far, alongside with everybody who helped you and Bucky raise Becca. The road to parenthood takes a lifetime to end, but it doesn't matter, you're happy, content and sure that with Bucky and the rest of the Avengers helping you, you can do it.

Then, the after performance's reactions came to view. Everyone chuckled at Sam's reaction when it was shown. Tony, being the overly dramatic uncle did nothing but to make a standing ovation; again, overly dramatic. Steve was clapping with his smile so bright you sure his cheeks was hurting. The other Avengers have various reaction to it, then came the father. Tony snorted upon seeing the ever stoic Bucky Barnes shed a tear.

"So, Tin Man knows how to cry? Thought you're all in the 'brooding' thing?" Sam, of course, would take all the chance to laugh in the expense of your husband, this is one of it.

"Shut it, Stark." he half-heartedly glared before laughter erupts from his chest filling the whole room and then prompted the other to do the same.

You were also in the midst of laughing before noticing the exiting figure of your daughter, her back on everybody while they're busy chiding. You slip yourself away from Bucky and stood up, earning everybody's attention, before pointing to your daughter. Walking closer, you noticed her shoulders slacked, your heart ached at the sight. Becca has always been a lively kid, whatever prompted her to leave without saying anything, even to you, worries you.

"Becca, baby?"

"'M sweepy, mum..." Sleepy? She asked herself. It's only six pm and Tony had promised her ice cream, Becca never says no to ice cream.

"Sweetheart, anything wrong?" You cooed, she shook her head lightly. You heard rustling behind you and felt that familiar body heat near you, Bucky.

"Hey, baby doll? It's dada--" You saw how Bucky tried to reach Becca's shoulder with his flesh hand, about to turn her, but it's like Becca knew it herself, she twirled around but landed her face on the crook of your shoulder, her tiny arms clinged onto your neck as if her life depends on it, before a heartbreaking sob made its way to your ears.

"Becca?" Your eyes opened wide upon the sudden outburst of your daughter and you tried to pry her away from you, wanting to take a look on her face, she wouldn't budge though and instead tighten her embrace on you. "Becca, baby are you hurt?" Panic is obvious in your voice, everybody is now crowding around you, just giving you enough space, you were massaging Becca's dark hair, a trait she shares with her father, when you felt Bucky shifts towards the side of your shoulders Becca leaned her face on.

"Baby doll you're making us nervous here. Dada is too old for this." You knew he tried his best to make light of the situation after hearing the panic crept onto you, but the strain in his voice betrayed him. "Baby doll, are you hurt? Did anybody hurt you, tell Dada, I'll--"

Then, as if her lips found her small voice from within, you would've all missed it if not for the quietness and panic surrounding the room.

"Dada."

"What's that, baby?" You now were able to pry her face away from your neck and take her appearance in. Her eyes bloodshot, nose now resembles a ripe apple, cheeks flushed, it reminded you of the time Bucky wakes from his nightmares. Again, your heart felt nothing but great deal of sadness, your Becca is so distraught.

"What's with Dada, baby?"

"Dada don't love me anymore." She whispered, looking down the floor.

Bucky and you looked at each other, bewildered by her confession. You pressed a small kiss on her forehead before locking your hands with your husband's, he took it as a sign to come nearer. Becca flinched upon feeling Bucky near her and clinged to your arms tightly.

"Baby--" Bucky heaved a sigh. He sure needs every air he could take. "who told you I don't love you? Remember, daddy fights bad guys so you will be safe?" He then took her from your lap and put Becca on his, wrapping her in his strong arms. "Because daddy loves you." Then he pressed a gentle kiss on Becca's forehead and cheeks.

"But--" Bucky looks at her gently, prompting her to continue. "you cried... There..." her right arm and index finger shooting towards the screen you were watching at from awhile ago.

You felt everybody sigh in relief. It was a huge misunderstanding indeed, but it was also one of the most innocent moments all of you have ever seen in your entire lives.

"You see, baby doll." You took note of how Bucky's metal hand went to fingercomb his hair, you know he's got this by now, you know he's relieved too, knowing that his daughter is actually alright. "Daddy cried because I'm proud of you." He gave Becca a huge smile.

"Proud? What's it?" Becca queried.

"Erm--" Maybe he didn't got it that much...

"is good thing, daddy?"

"Yes it is." There, the oh so bright and famous smile Becca is known for makes its way back to her lips. As if in-sync, everyone did the same.

"Do you want to know how much Dada loves you?" The mischeviousness coating your husband's voice is enough to make Becca squeal in delight as she runs away from him and sought help from her aunts and uncles, few minutes passed before Bucky caught her and blew raspberry kisses on her, making her giggle for quite some time.

"Okay! Who's up for the ice creams?!" Tony exclaimed from the dining room.

"Imma race you there, baby doll. Imma finish your Uncle Tony's ice cream!" Bucky tried annoying his daughter. This usually makes you wonder if you married a child beneath a man's body.

"No!" Becca did nothing but whine before they both sprint out of the Audio-Visual room. From there, you heard Becca squeals again; she won. Of course, Bucky let her win. If you're being honest though, Bucky can never win against Rebecca, you can only shake your head on the fondness of the idea before following your daughter and husband's voices calling for you and the others to join their ice cream feast.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: The Darkness Within (33/?)

Summary: When washed-up paranormal investigator Rum Gold meets Belle French, he does not quite know what to make of her claim of a supernatural presence in her life, but sensing her genuine fear, he begins to investigate. What he uncovers shakes the cynicism he has so long held to its very core, and he calls in the help of disgraced ex-priest Father Macavoy to help him lay some demons to rest…

A slow burn, eventual rumbellavoy. The rating may increase in later chapters.

Rated: M

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [Ten] [Eleven] [Twelve] [Thirteen] [Fourteen] [Fifteen] [Sixteen] [Seventeen] [Eighteen] [Nineteen] [Twenty] [Twenty-One] [Twenty-Two] [Twenty-Three] [Twenty-Four] [Twenty-Five] [Twenty-Six] [Twenty-Seven] [Twenty-Eight] [Twenty-Nine] [Thirty] [Thirty-One] [Thirty-Two] [AO3]

====

Thirty-Three

Although Joseph had seen Gold over Skype quite a few times over the last few weeks during the course of their investigation, he had not laid eyes on his friend in the flesh for a number of years. Walking out into Boston airport arrivals hall, it felt like the first time he had come to America, back when he had still been wearing the dog collar and had met Gold for the first time.

This time, he wasn’t with a taxi driver holding up a neatly printed sign reading Macavoy. He was just hanging around at the back of the crowd of people greeting their relatives, standing next to the coffee shop.

He looked older than he had done when they had last met in person, but then again, Joseph knew that he did himself as well. It had been years after all, and he knew that they had not been kind to him even if they had been slightly better to Gold.

All the same, he definitely looked a lot more haggard and stressed now than he had done when they had last communicated over Skype. The meeting with the entity and all the worry about Belle that had ensued must have done more of a number on him than Joseph had anticipated.

Then again… Joseph looked down at himself. Leaving the priesthood hadn’t exactly been good for him, either. It was probably easier just to say that things had gone downhill for both of them since they had last worked together. Both of them lonely and disillusioned until Belle had come into their lives and begun turning things upside down through no real fault of her own.

Well, Belle hadn’t exactly come into Joseph’s life, only by proxy, but now that she was there, he really wouldn’t have it any other way. Despite the desperate circumstances they’d now found themselves in, the case had given Joseph a new lease of life and a purpose that he had not had for a long time, ever since his last case of this calibre, and he was determined not to fail her.

Gold smiled as he saw Joseph approaching, but the greeting between the two men was still a little awkward, having not seen each other in person for so long. Joseph gave a huff of laughter; it was almost as if they’d been internet dating and were now meeting each other in person for the first time, although they’d known each other for so long before now and had been through so many weird and wonderful experiences together.

“So, what’s your plan?” Joseph asked once they were well on their way to Storybrooke and there was no chance of Gold getting distracted by the case and landing them in a ditch or on the pavement.

“Well, I’m not entirely sure that it’s possible yet,” Gold admitted. “That’s why I need your expertise.”

“I’m listening.” It wasn’t as if they had anything else to do to make the drive to Storybrooke go any quicker.

“Speaking hypothetically, if you know how a demon, entity, dark thing from beyond time and light, etc, was summoned, can you reverse engineer a way to send it back where it came from?”

Joseph nodded.

“Summoning and banishing are closely related, but given that everything in the world follows the entropic principle, banishing is a lot harder than summoning. Things that have been summoned to our world don’t tend to enjoy being sent back from whence they came.”

Gold nodded slowly. “Yes, I think we might have a fight on our hands with the Dark One,” he said. “It was pretty determined to stay within the bloodline.”

“I suppose the next thing would be to work out whether it actually wants to be in the bloodline or not,” Joseph mused. “Depending on the method that Nimue used to summon it in the first place, it could be that it is bound to the bloodline and condemned to remain within the family, and our freeing it and sending it back into the ether would be a nice reprieve.”

Gold just gave him an incredulous look and Joseph shrugged.

“It was worth a shot.”

“I don’t think it’ll go quietly. It said that Nimue had freed it from a prison of darkness.”

“Not exactly encouraging,” Joseph agreed.

They fell back into silence for a little while, and Joseph began to mull over all the new information that he had learned about the entity.

“Continuing with your hypothetical situation of banishing the spirit in the same way that it was summoned, how do you think that it was summoned?” he asked Gold eventually.

“You know that ceremonial sword you’ve found out a lot about?”

“Yes.”

“And the dagger that Belle keeps having dreams about?”

“Yes.”

“And the fact that in the dreams, there’s blood on the dagger, and Belle knows that it’s hers?”

“Yes.” Joseph paused. “You think that Nimue made a blood sacrifice using the sword to summon the entity?”

“Precisely.”

“And us making a blood sacrifice with the same sword will help to send it back.”

“If your logic prevails.”

“Right.”

The car fell silent again for a long time before Joseph spoke again, trying to take in the magnitude of what Gold had just told him.

“I thought you said that you didn’t have any idea what I was talking about when I kept going on about a ceremonial sword that had been passed down through your family for generations. I did think that it was Excalibur at one point. I’m still not entirely convinced that it’s not.”

“I don’t have any idea,” Gold said. “I’ve never seen such a blade and I don’t remember the aunts making any mention of it, or my father for that matter. But the entity said that was how the bloodline was broken - my father broke the blade.”

Joseph nodded. “Yes, Belle thought that might be how it had happened.”

“I think the fact that the blade is broken is the only reason that the entity hasn’t returned to me,” Gold mused. “There’s something in it that prevents it from simply hopping across.”

Joseph gave his friend an alarmed look, but Gold’s attention was on the road in front of him.

“You know, you’re rather too calm about this.”

“I’m not. I’m absolutely terrified but since Belle is also terrified, probably with more reason to be since the thing’s inside her, one of us has to try and stay calm and brave in the face of everything that’s happening.”

“Have you heard from Belle?”

Gold shook his head.

“No. She’s not returning any of my calls and she’s not answering the door. I’ve seen that she’s ok, I caught a glimpse of her through the curtains in her apartment, but as far as I can tell she hasn’t left it since that night.” He gave a long sigh. “I just want to make sure she’s all right. I want to be able to reassure her that no matter what happens, everything’s going to be fine in the end, but I can’t because I don’t know that.”

Joseph didn’t know that either, so he wasn’t going to be much use when it came to giving anyone any reassurance. All things considered, he was even less convinced of their pursuit being successful thanks to all the various experiences that he’d had before. All the same, there was something in the back of his mind telling him that this time he wouldn’t and couldn’t fail, and if blind faith in himself was what was needed to get him through it, then he would pray for a miracle and draw that strength from somewhere.

“Maybe I could talk to her,” he suggested. “You said that you thought she was scared of it happening again and the entity doing something irretrievable. She’s always been scared of hurting you, I can tell you that much. But I’m different. I’m not related to the bloodline and I’m definitely not AB negative so I don’t think that the entity will pay me much mind.”

Gold seemed to consider it for a long moment before he nodded.

“Yes. I think that’s a good idea.”

X

The rest of the drive to Storybrooke was uneventful, and Joseph eventually nodded off, feeling the effects of jetlag already. It was certainly going to be an interesting few days if he was always falling asleep when the action was happening. Gold woke him with a nudge to his shoulder when they arrived at his home, and Joseph looked up at the grandiose pink place.

“It’s haunted, isn’t it?” he said plainly. “I’m sure the only reason that you would choose to live in a house like this was to prove that it wasn’t haunted.”

“Restless suicide in 1832,” Gold said cheerily. “I haven’t heard a peep out of whoever it is since I’ve been in though, so I think I can safely say that one’s just a rumour.”

Joseph rolled his eyes. “Either that, or your reputation precedes you and all the ghosts have just accepted that you’re not going to believe in their existence so they’ve given up before they’ve begun.”

Gold shrugged. “Possibly.”

Joseph did have to admit that there wasn’t anything particularly sinister about the house when he got inside; he usually always had a nose for these things. After he’d settled in and they’d eaten, he decided that it was probably best to get going on his plan to talk to Belle as soon as possible. There was no use in putting these things off, and he wanted to get to her before she went to bed for the night and the entity might possibly come to the fore once more. Gold gave him directions, hanging back in the diner to keep watch in case something drastic happened. Joseph really hoped that it wouldn’t.

He looked up at the apartment above the library. The library itself showed no signs of having been opened over the past couple of days, and a hand-written sign tacked to the door explained that due to unforeseen circumstances, the place would be remaining closed indefinitely. Joseph felt a pang of empathy. He hoped that Gold’s plan to get the entity out of Belle and back wherever it came from in the first place would work, so that she could get back to her regular life if nothing else.

He mounted the stairs and knocked gently on the door. There was no response; he hadn’t really expected one, but he could hear someone moving about furtively on the other side of the wood. It was either Belle trying not to be heard, or the entity had taken hold and was being as suspicious as ever.

“Belle,” he called. “Belle, it’s Joseph Macavoy. Can I talk to you please?” He paused. “You don’t have to open the door if you don’t want, but I’d like to hear your voice and make sure you’re ok. I haven’t heard from you for a while, and now I’ve come over to help Gold with the case.”

There was again no reply, but the footsteps in the apartment came closer.

“Belle? Are you in there?”

“Joseph?”

The voice was small and muffled by wood, but it was undeniably Belle’s, and Joseph breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hello Belle. It’s nice to talk to you in person.”

“You’re really here?”

“I’m really here. My flight came in at lunchtime.”

“Rum left me a message, he said that you were coming. I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“I’m not sure I believe I’m really here yet.” He paused. “Rum’s been worried about you, you know.”

“I know.”

She didn’t say anything else, but then Joseph heard the scrape of the door lock and a moment later it opened. It was still held with three heavy-duty security chains, but Belle’s face appeared in the gap. Her eyes were red-rimmed from tears with heavy dark circles under them, her dark hair greasy and unkempt.

Joseph smiled and extended a hand.

“A pleasure to meet you, Belle.”

Belle just looked at his hand, but didn’t take it.

“How long have you been awake?” Joseph asked.

Belle didn’t reply, looking away.

“Did Rum tell you what happened?” she mumbled.

“I got the gist of it, yes.”

She bit her lip. “I haven’t slept since.”

Before Joseph could make any reply, the door had closed in his face. He heard the chains being drawn across, and then he was face to face with Belle properly.

“Come in,” she said. “If you dare.”

Joseph stepped across the threshold. “I’m not scared of you, Belle.”

She snorted. “You should be.”

She closed the door behind him but she didn’t lock it, and Joseph looked around the space. Empty coffee cups littered every surface.

Belle sank down onto the sofa, her head in her hands.

“I said I couldn’t bear it if I ever hurt him,” she muttered.

“You didn’t hurt him,” Joseph assured her. Belle shook her head.

“It was too close a call,” she said. “I knew that this was a bad idea. I knew I shouldn’t let myself get close to him, to anyone. It only ever ends badly.”

“We’ve got a plan, Belle. We’re going to get rid of this thing. I promise.”

It was a bad promise to make. He had no idea if he’d be successful or what might happen to Belle herself throughout the process, but looking at her now, so rundown and dejected, so very miserable, he knew that he had to give her some hope.

Belle shook her head again.

“I’m just about ready to quit,” she said. “I can’t live with this anymore. I can’t live with myself anymore knowing that at a moment’s notice I might do something terrible! Think about it, how can Rum and I ever go to bed together again knowing that the last time it happened, well, you know what happened the last time.”

Joseph sat down on the sofa beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders gingerly. Instead of shaking him off, like her brittle stance seemed to suggest she would, she melted into his embrace, like a dam breaking and a flood of tears suddenly pouring forth.

“Please don’t give up, Belle,” Joseph soothed. “Please. We will get you through this and you’ll come out of the other side. You’ve fought against this thing for so long. Even the Dark One itself is impressed by how viciously you’ve fought it. You can’t let it win now. Not when we’re so close to finding a solution.”

“I’m just so tired!” Belle cried, burying her face in his chest. Joseph remembered their Skype conversations when she had confided in all her fears to him, fears that were rapidly coming true, and all those times that he had wished that he could reach across the miles and comfort her.

“Sleep,” he soothed her. “I’ll keep watch over you.”

“But the Thing…”

“It doesn’t want me,” Joseph said. “I’m safe. And if it does go after what it does want, then I’ll be here to stop it. Besides, I’ve got jetlag. I’m hardly likely to sleep tonight even if I wanted to.”

Belle gave a weak huff of laughter, but eventually, her breathing quietened and she fell into a light slumber.

Joseph made her comfortable on the sofa, very aware that he probably shouldn’t be sitting there with his friend’s lover sleeping in his arms, and texted Gold to let him know that Belle was all right, before settling down to wait and watch until she woke up.

[marshmclaren]

Eighth year part two

While walking to his seat in the great hall Draco's eyes scanned the room. The Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw tables were filled end to end with bubbling students, but the Slytherins sat as though they were enveloped in darkness. While most first years were smiling, the ones who were here only one year prior during the war, sat with clouds above their heads. Everyone knew it, majority of the Slytherins parents fought for the Dark lord, on the losing side. Now those parents were dead or residing in Azkaban, just like Draco's father. A lot of prejudice was meant to disperse with the enactment of the house unity push, but the malice towards the Slytherins ran deep so their efforts would be wasted.

As his eyes scanned the dining hall they quickly met with striking blue ones, Luna. She gave him a wave, he had given back a stiff nod. Draco finally made it to the Slytherin table and sat next to Blaise. They quickly dove into a conversation, both boys avoiding the topic of war and their parents, which they were both grateful for. Blaise had spent the summer in America, visiting places he had always dreamed of going. Draco did nothing noteworthy enough to tell Blaise. Once Headmistress McGonagall took the podium at the front of the hall, all the chatter died down.

"As you all know Hogwarts was home to the final battle of the second wizarding war and had suffered much damage, as well as," she paused a moment to gather herself, "taking the lives of some of Hogwarts very own. While this castle will never be the same, we do hope you find your time here valuable. Now onto other business, in all of Hogwarts history, the 4 houses have been divided in their common rooms and in this very hall. This year that will no longer be the case. Dormitories and common rooms are now separated by year and you'll be encouraged to sit anywhere you please in this hall and make new friends no matter which house. We hope you will find peace and a home within our castle walls once again, for Hogwarts will still hold its pride until the very end." Once she finished speaking and stepped down from the podium, no one clapped, they all took a respectful moment of silence.

The clamor of the great hall didn't pick up again until the food appeared on the gold dished on front of them. Draco once again felt his eyes wander the hall, drawn like a moth to a flame his eyes landed on Harry. There he sat next to the girl Weasley. Draco felt his stomach turn. She was everything Harry deserved, smart, pretty, talented, and not a death eater. Definitely not a death eater. They were the 'it' couple, they both played exceptional quidditch, they both were outgoing and popular, and their relationship even mirrored Harry's parents. Draco felt sick with jealousy.

Ginny was always the one wrench in Draco's assumption that Harry had been a little bit gay. Once Harry had met Cedric Diggory, Draco could've sworn Harry had crush on the Hufflepuff boy. Which only made Draco feel worse because most Hufflepuffs were the exact opposite of most Slytherins. Draco felt he knew Harry's type then. But after all the stolen glances, quiet conversations and after mourning over Diggory's death as if they were lovers, Ginny still was there. Comforting him, loving him. It drove Draco mad.

To avoid getting upset further, Draco peeled his eyes away from the sight and turned them down towards his plate. He wouldn't lift them again until Blaise reached over and bumped Draco's arm with his own.

"My bet is we've got a bloody good chance of getting a room together." Blaise said like he had read Draco's earlier thoughts. The boys smiled at one another and continued their meals. Draco always had a lot of respect for Blaise. He was the smartest next to Draco and Pansy. He didn't flaunt it either he was down to earth. They got along well with one another.

Draco was about to take another bite of his dinner when McGonagall stopped right in front of him. He straightened up. He couldn't control the slight fear that ran through him. She was the former head Gryffindor teacher and he was a former death eater. Something must've been off.

"Mr. Malfoy," even his own wretched last name made him cringe, " would you please make you find you way to my office once the feast is over?" She asked in a polite tone which eased Draco's apparent tension.

Draco gave a strained smile which must've pleased her because she turned on her heel and moved back towards the front. All the possible reasons for this meeting ran through Draco's mind. Maybe they wouldn't allow him to go here anymore with a dark mark scorched on his wrist. Perhaps since his family housed the dark lord, they couldn't fathom letting him walk the halls. He was a trigger for the kids who wished to push the war out of their mind.

He couldn't have been more wrong though, because after dinner he did make his way to the headmistresses office, only to find Harry sitting upon one of the upholstered chairs. Once he heard the door creaking, Harry turned around. The two boys locked eyes. Harry's were still as bright as ever.

"Oh thank Merlin. I though I was in trouble for something already, but now that you're here I don't believe that's the case." Harry spluttered.

"Of course, because you Potter, the boy who saved the wizard world twice would be in trouble on the first day of school. Honestly, they call you the chosen one!" Draco retorted sarcastically. The name "Potter" rolled off of Draco's tongue with the slightest of ease.

Harry's eyes brightened at Draco's use of sarcastic tongue. Maybe it wasn't the sarcasm actually, maybe it was the fact that the last time they had a two way conversation, Harry tried talking to him, but it wasn't Draco it was a quiet and deprived shell of Draco's former self.

It had happened while Draco sat outside the ministry's court doors awaiting his family's trial. He wasn't sure whether or not he would walk out of those doors or have to spend the rest of his days staring at an Azkaban prison cell wall. But when he heard quick foot steps and saw Harry Potter running down the hall towards him, slight hope radiated itself in Draco's mind.

While he felt relieved Draco also felt angry. What game was Harry playing at, maybe he wanted to hear the minister claim guilty in person, or maybe he wanted to give Draco hope only to take it away last second. Quite the opposite actually though, Harry wanted Draco and Narcissa to walk free, they weren't responsible for Lucius's actions. He wouldn't ever bring himself to help Lucius out of the situation he dug himself into for years.

"Come for more Kudos have we Potter? Isn't saving our world twice enough? We're already in your debt don't twist the knife!" Draco's shouts echoed through the empty ministry walls.

Harry looked shocked at first but then He stuck his hand out halfway confidently and looked Draco in the eyes, " I'm not here to make you feel worse you tosser. 7 years ago I refused to shake your hand because I thought you were a twat. I have realized now that you weren't a twat by choice and you do not deserve to spend the rest of your life in Azkaban. So, let's start over."

That shut Draco's anger right up. A smile threatened to break through onto Draco's face but he reached out quick to shake Harry's hand, in fear it would be yanked away from him soon.

Draco was torn from the memory when the door swung open revealing McGonagall in her finest purple robes and recently cleaned glasses. She motioned for Draco to sit, then she herself took a spot behind her desk.

"Now as you know all dormitories are split by year and so I have decided that it would be most beneficial if you two were the prefects of the 8th year common room." McGonagall said, then giving the boys a look as if daring them to challenge her.

"What exactly does that mean?" Harry asked while playing with his fingers, not paying attention fully.

"Well we need house unity, and what better to promote it than a popular Gryffindor and a popular Slytherin? You guys will share a room and advise your common room. I'll expect you two to get a long and be able to run things efficiently." She said it as though it was obvious.

"What you're basically saying is that you're going to put me and Potter together because, he's the chosen one and anyone will follow what he does, and I'm an ex death eater. So if the infamous Harry Potter can befriend a death eater, why can't all the others?" Draco's words had no malice behind them, just truth.

"If you want to get technical Mr. Malfoy, then yes. It could be a great opportunity for you two as well though. Don't think I didn't hear about what happened at the ministry. You boys aren't enemies anymore." McGonagall said all knowingly.

But she wasn't all knowingly because had she been so, she would've known the boys were never enemies. At least Draco never saw Harry as an enemy, his feelings got in the way of that and created a storm blaring in Draco's mind. 

Draco was about to object strongly to McGonagall's proposal. There was no way he could share a room with Harry. His heart was too weak to walk into their room every night and see Harry and Ginny, the perfect couple, hanging out in their shared room. The thought of it made Draco dizzy. He couldn't do it, he just couldn't.

But before Draco could fit in his opinion, Harry opened his mouth.

"I think it's a brilliant idea Headmistress! When do we move in?" Harry could hardly contain the excitement that spread across his face. Draco took note of how green Harry's eyes appeared then. They blazed the same gleam of desire as they did when Harry spotted the snitch on the Quidditch pitch.

Draco hadn't known what Harrys excitement meant but he knew that this was one of the worst ideas Harry has ever had. If it had gotten bad, Draco knew he would be back here begging to switch rooms. Bloody hell, he didn't even care if he roomed with Weasley, anything to get away from Potters relationship rubbed in his face.

Even though deep down Draco's mind was screaming that he would finally get Harry's attention, because how could you ever ignore someone who slept in the bed across from yours?

⚠️This part is a bit short and the story seems to be going slow, but I promise it's gonna pick up soon! I just wanted to establish the background and beginning. But let me know your thoughts! The support I got on part one is literally the most amazing thing to happen to me. Everyone on here is so sweet to new writers! Thank you so much for reading 💛💗⚠️

FIND PART ONE HERE ------> https://marshmclaren.tumblr.com/post/164282548849/eighth-year-part-one

PART THREE COMING SOON!

[iv-kplpt]

build our own luck [the agency au part two]

i was feeling like crap, thanks to my least favorite day of the year - so i decided to write something as self indulgent as it gets. in this one, there is actually no plot or drama; i just wanted to write about charlie and oswald living their lives. and nothing bad happens to them. it’s TREAT YO SELF: the fic, basically. writing it made me feel warm and fuzzy. it’s a nice feeling.

19k words rated m

During the months that followed, Charlie often felt uneasy; she was smart enough to know leaving the Agency wasn’t as simple as using primitive blackmail. What she did was desperate and blunt and could easily be used against her; but she willingly put herself under the sword of Damocles, feeling this is the path she was meant to follow. Perhaps she was blinded; but she didn’t mind. What was born between her and one of Gotham’s many masked criminals definitely felt real - and maybe it was foolish, diving headfirst into the unknown, sinking in his eyes and melting under his touch. Perhaps it was rash and unwise, forfeiting months of training and embracing her moral numbness - but it just felt so damn good.

Oswald’s next big plan was to finally have his revenge for a tragedy that befell his family when he was a child; his father was pushed to a suicide and his mother was unrightfully locked up in Arkham Asylum and people responsible for it took everything from him, every last penny, every last shred of faith in people’s good nature - and he was so, so very close to getting definitive, damning proof of that. It wouldn’t bring his family back - but it sure as hell is nicer to weep in luxury, than in poverty.

“Don’t get me wrong, I will spill some blood.” he told her one day. “A lot of it, actually - but it’s time for the name Cobblepot to return to the top. Don’t you think?”

“You know I’m on board with everything.” she muttered in response, trying to catch last minutes of sleep. “You incubus.”

He laughed and kissed the skin between her shoulder blades and she smiled blissfully.

Her role in his plans wasn’t complicated, but it definitely was significant; someone had to scrub his criminal records clean and to re-introduce him to Gotham as a shining example of virtue; he wanted to take back what’s his not by force - but by making people want to give it back to him. She was supposed to handle his good PR - while he’d take care of the behind-the-scenes, more dirty aspects.

“I’ve already arranged everything. I got in touch with the best damn burglar money can buy.”

“Why don’t you steal it yourself?”

“Because I’m too lazy.” he replied with a shrug and she laughed. “And Catwoman? She has a well-earned reputation of being reliable. Why risk fucking it up if I can pay someone to… Not fuck it up?”

“Smart.” she said; she was sitting on the couch in her hotel apartment - or rather their hotel apartment. Oswald had planned his official return in detail; since he was going to resurface soon, Charlie threw the first pebble of the upcoming avalanche and allowed him to temporarily move in with her. They had a whole story, ready for anyone curious enough to ask questions. A very pretty, completely fake story; one of those fairytales that only seem to happen to the rich and the beautiful.

“Of course it’s smart, I’m brilliant.”

“Uh-uh.” she muttered, glancing at the screen of her laptop. “Alright, the British should really work on their security… And training their detectives. They never got half the stuff you’ve done.”

“That’s because they kept underestimating me and overlooking obvious clues. But I don’t mind. It’s their loss.”

It was a late afternoon, and Charlie was putting some of her skills to use by reworking Oswald’s records from his time in the UK; she was no master hacker - if she was she’d probably be working for the Agency’s IT or intel department - but she was trained well. Oswald never let himself be known as a high-profile criminal, and he never gave the police enough evidence to link him with the Penguin; his files were barely protected and it only took her half an hour to wipe out the bad parts and rework the semi-decent ones into something heart crushingly good.

“This is almost too easy.” she complained jokingly, saving the photographs from a gambling bust onto her hard drive. “Or maybe I’m simply overqualified.”

“The latter, definitely.” he said; his phone dinged. “Would you look at that! The physical copies of my files had gone missing. What a shame.”

“Yes, what a terrible, terrible loss.” she said, retracing her footsteps and covering her tracks, just to make sure no one will discover what happened. “So, you’re now officially clean. The Agency files still remain, but the Agency has files on everyone, not only their targets… Meaning you’re now a model citizen. How does it feel?”

“Boring as fuck.”

“Yeah, socially acceptable behaviors tend to be boring. Honestly I’m almost sad, you just lost your bad boy charm. No gambling, no illegal boxing matches, the dishonorable discharge wasn’t really spectacular… It’s a good thing I’ve seen how awful you are.” she finished with a smile, turning her laptop off.

“It’s also a good thing I’m a handsome devil. Good looks can make anyone interesting.” he said with a wink, and she giggled; they had this conversation a few times before, between reuniting and making his grand plans reality. He was talking about Bruce Wayne, his childhood friend who grew up with almost everything Oswald had lost, partially thanks to Bruce’s father - and a man Charlie encountered a few times during her stay in Gotham. He was pleasant, not her type and rubbed her the wrong way; but she was as nice to him as possible, knowing this influential playboy has a bone to pick with Louise, who used to also work for the Agency. At first it was all just a front, a way of not making her fellow agent’s life more complicated; but then it became reality. Charlie and Louise had both left the Agency - and the further Bruce Wayne was from Charlie’s personal life and her involvement with Oswald’s revenge the better.

“Now what?”

“Now… We wait.” Oswald said with a shrug. “Kyle should be done with her job on the night of Dent’s fundraiser, which is when, in a week?”

“A week and a half. Louise got me an invite.”

“How nice of her. I keep forgetting she’s working with that guy.”

“If he becomes the mayor, she’ll probably take over as the new DA. Can he even appoint her as his successor?”

“Don’t ask me, american law is an enigma to me. This country is so needlessly complicated, almost as if government's sole mission was to fuck its people over as much as possible. Do you think that’s what Washington planned?” he asked suddenly. “Do you think he dreamed of creating a free country that’d coincidentally be the most complicated place on Earth?”

“I don’t think he planned that far ahead. I think his plans only went as far as kicking the Brits out, then he started to make shit up as he went… And look at America now. Totally not worth it.”

“Bold statement coming from an ex federal agent.” he said and she laughed; all was good between them ever since she abandoned the Agency for his sake. Many people would say he pulled her to the dark side, that he dragged her down; but she didn’t care. Some people are not meant for greatness or goodness; perhaps she was one of those souls meant to be cautionary tales. All that mattered was the fact she was in love - it didn’t matter how bloody and dark his plans were. She could take it.

Eventually the night of the fundraiser came; Oswald was supposed to face Bruce for the first time in years. Charlie - who officially didn’t know anything about Oswald’s history with the Wayne family and was simply playing the role of a bubbly, young socialite making new connections - was bringing him with her as her plus one, marking the beginning of Oswald’s slow return to the top. She’s been in Gotham for a while now, and was slowly becoming recognizable; it was good time for them to start their show.

“Nervous?” she asked him as they were getting ready to leave; but he shook his head.

“Excited.” he replied simply, buttoning his shirt. “I’ve been waiting for this moment to come.”

“Mmm.” she muttered, sitting down to take care of her hair and face and he glanced at her reflection, tying his tie.

“Oh, good choice.” he said, seeing her reach for the benitoite earrings he gave her. “Those fit you.”

“It’s my favorite pair, you know.” she said playfully, picking up a string of pearls. “How do I look?”

“Distractingly gorgeous, as usual.” he said as she got up, smoothing down the fabric of her dress - a simple, cocktail pencil piece with bateau neckline in a deep blue color few shades darker than her eyes. It was one of her favorites; it went with almost everything.

(She favored pencil dresses and skirts; they were simple, elegant, graceful and looked nothing like more voluminous clothes she wore as Penguin’s masked accomplice. Her civilian clothes were all about simple elegance and subtlety with occasional flashes of tasteful ostentation; what she wore when robbing banks was all about the drama.)

“You look great as well.” she sighed as he was fixing his tie in place with a pin. “You look good in suits, you know?”

“I look good in everything.” he replied and she rolled her eyes, unable to contain her smile. She meant what she said - he looked damn good in formal wear.

“Narcissus.” she said, picking up her purse. “Come on. We’ll be fashionably late.”

“Planning a dramatic entrance?” he asked as they were walking down the hallway, towards the elevators.

“Let’s save dramatic entrances for another occasion.” she said, alluding to their alter egos. “Do you think he’ll be happy to see you?”

“Who, Bruce? Doesn’t matter.” Oswald said with a shrug, following her into the elevator. “Do you like him?”

“He seems pleasant. Kind of boring, but definitely pleasant. I can see myself developing a crush on him, if I was a different person.” she said, glancing at him. “But luckily I have a more refined taste.”

“Luckily indeed.” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist as the elevator reached the ground level and they walked out, a picture-perfect couple like many others.

They were fashionably late; and on their way to the Wayne Manor Oswald got a message from Catwoman, a thief he hired to steal a crucial piece of evidence for him; she succeeded and was ready to meet him to make an exchange whenever he was ready.

“Well that went remarkably smooth.” he said after Charlie read the content of the text to him; he was driving and she - sitting in the passenger seat - insisted on him acting reasonably. “That will put Falcone in my pocket for the time being.”

“Catwoman.” Charlie said thoughtfully. “I remember her files. No one ever got anything that could lead to uncovering her identity.”

“She’s good. Sinks her hard-earned money in state of the art toys, steals blueprints, prototypes… It’s a good thing she didn’t fuck up. I’d hate to have to get rid of her.”

“What, you’d send your men to bring you her head on a silver platter?”

“Silver? No, I wouldn’t settle for silver. I’d go with gold.” he said nonchalantly and she laughed.

They weren’t the only ones running late - Bruce Wayne himself was late as well and had yet to make an appearance as they showed up.

“God, I forgot just how posh this place is.” Oswald muttered, looking around the hall. “See this closet right there? Used to be my favorite hiding spot back when I was a kid.”

“Oh, you’ll have to show me around.” she said quietly, glancing at him. “Lots of memories?”

“Tons of them, actually. I think I broke Alfred’s favorite vase… Right here.” he said, stopping near an elegant, empty table. “Bruce took the blame. He was a good friend.”

“Maybe he still is a good friend.” Charlie suggested softly, standing next to him; he pulled her closer without a word.

“If it isn’t Gotham’s most disgusting couple!” they suddenly heard a familiar voice coming from behind them; when they turned around - Louise was there, holding a glass of wine. “Fashionably late. How delightful.”

“Entrance is everything.” Charlie said with a smile, brushing Louise’s cheek with her red lips.

“Now that’s a weird thing.” Louise said, looking at Oswald. “I’ll never get used to seeing you out and about. Feels wrong.”

“Hidden in plain sight.” he replied, nodding slightly. “Where’s Wayne?”

“Has yet to show up, so… Be patient. Be patient for Harvey.” she giggled, glancing in the direction of her - visibly stressed out - superior. “He’s losing his mind. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

“I’ll see you later.” Oswald said quietly, brushing Charlie’s temple with his lips. “I have some spying to do.”

“Take care.” Charlie replied quietly and walked away with Louise.

“Harvey!” she called out to Dent, who looked in their direction.

“My god.” he said tiredly. “You haven’t seen Bruce anywhere, have you?”

“It might be a good time to issue a search party.” Louise suggested. “But in the meantime… This is your potential voter, try to squeeze money out of her. Charlie, this is Harvey Dent, the better of two candidates. And better remember that.”

“Pleased to finally meet you in person.” Charlie said with a smile as Dent was shaking her hand. “Your posters are in the hall of my hotel. Staff makes sure no one vandalizes them.”

“It means my campaign is working! Good.” he said with a smile of relief. “I take you’re the school friend Louise mentioned once or twice..?”

“If you mean the girl everyone called Heinz behind her back, then yes, that’d be me.” she said, bringing up one of many details of her - completely fake - backstory.

Dent was a pleasant, honest man who wanted to make a difference; he had strong opinions about crime and corruption and Charlie gladly decided to financially back his cause, for some good citizen brownie points.

The evening was going smoothly, especially since Bruce Wayne decided to finally show up; considering how calm he appeared Oswald probably didn’t confront him.

(She spotted Oswald drinking wine straight out of the bottle and shot him a disapproving look from across the room; he winked at her in response. Later she saw him talking quietly with Alfred, Bruce’s butler; she wondered how did the old man react to the sight of his master’s childhood friend, all grown up.)

And then, Carmine Falcone showed up, unexpected and uninvited; Charlie and Louise were in the corner of the room as he walked in and Oswald quickly walked up to them, looking angry.

“That wasn’t part of the plan.” he stated, glancing in mafioso’s direction; head of the mob seemingly didn’t notice him, too busy offending the interior of Wayne Manor.

“You should go.” Charlie said hastily, handing him the car keys. “Before things turn ugly.”

“Oh, they will turn ugly once I get to Falcone.” Oswald promised her with a dark smile. “But you’re right, tonight’s not the time.”

“Keep your murderous schemes to yourself, thank you very much.” Louise hissed at him. “Go! I’ll take her home.”

“So better put that wine down, miss lawyer.” he said mockingly and slipped away, one last time glancing in the direction of Falcone, who was trying to get Bruce Wayne to shake his hand.

“Christ.” Louise muttered, finishing her wine. “So, how are you two doing?” she asked finally. “Do you want to kill him, or do you still claim you’re in love with him?”

“I love him.” Charlie said firmly. “We made up. Did the Agency reach out to you?”

“No, they just took my letter and fucked off, which is… Concerning. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.” Louise sighed. “Even though I think they really took him off the hook… We should probably make sure he doesn’t make it back to the list.”

“He’s reasonable.” Charlie said, deciding to act on her belief partners should support each other. “But you’re right.”

They both turned around when Falcone looked in their direction, in order to avoid him spotting them; he probably remembered them from his auctions, especially Charlie and her joy after getting her hands on Cobblepot family memorabilia.

“What is Falcone doing here?” Charlie asked quietly and Louise shook her head.

“Beats me, but this can’t be good. My gut tells me some shit’s about to go down. You better watch Oswald, he might do something stupid.”

“I’m not his babysitter.” Charlie protested faintly and Louise snickered.

“No, but he desperately needs a voice of reason. And this is when you come in… Because there is no point in suggesting you to become his conscience.” she added. “God, you really love him. This is unbelievable.”

“What?”

“Your face. That’s the face normal people make when they see Chris Evans. You… Make that face when you’re talking about Oswald. What do you see in him?”

“That’s not how love works. It’s just… Him.” Charlie said with a shrug. “As a whole. But I guess what I see when I look at him is… A promise. And a sense of belonging, not in terms of ownership and property, but placement.”

“That’s poetic and I can hardly argue with that.” Louise sighed nostalgically. “But that ownership thing… I thought he’d be more territorial. More of a jealous asshole, considering his general attitude towards… Well, everything.”

“Maybe he simply trusts me. Maybe he sees a difference between objects and people.” Charlie said lightly. “Also there’s a matter of me repeatedly telling him he stole my heart. I think he got my subtle hints.”

“Ah, but you never know. Remember: he’s a man. They’re simply not conditioned to get subtle hints.”

Louise drove Charlie back to the Peak that night, since Oswald took her car; the apartment was dark and empty, as Charlie noticed with a sigh.

She took a shower and went to bed; and few hours later she was woken up with a phone call.

“Yes?” she muttered, still half asleep, barely holding the receiver. “What is it?”

An anxious night-shift receptionist was calling to ask if she can go downstairs; an angry man was demanding access to her apartment. Charlie groaned, got up, put up a bathrobe and shuffled out, wondering how exactly is she going to murder the person responsible for waking her up.

“Charlie!” she heard Oswald’s voice. “This young man right here wanted to call the cops on me, can you believe it?!”

“Hardly.” she muttered, glancing at him and sighing at the sight of a blood staining his clothes and face.

She turned her attention to the panicked young man behind the counter; he was probably new, considering she had never seen him before. More seasoned staff members quickly learned to pay no attention to chatty man living with Schiller-Aberdeen in 362.

“He’s checked in with me.” she yawned, sleepily taking Oswald’s hand and stroking it with her fingertips. “Can you keep this whole thing to yourself… Liam?”

“Naturally!” the young man assured her ardently. “I am so terribly sorry for the problem.”

“It’s nothing.” she muttered, pulling Oswald towards the elevator, desperate to get back to bed.

“Don’t you want to know what happened?” Oswald asked as the elevator doors closed and Charlie sighed deeply.

(She didn’t mind seeing him covered in blood; but not at three AM when she was half asleep.)

“Alright. What happened?”

“I think I killed a guy.” Oswald said with satisfaction. “Two of ‘em tried to jump me and Bruce… So I showed them what happens to people who cross Oswald Cobblepot.”

“Oooh.” she said with a faint smile; she liked watching him fight. He was quick and deadly and relentless and it created a beautiful contrast with the memories of his kisses and tender touches. “And how did the meeting go? Exchanged any gossip?”

“Well, one thing I know for sure is that Bruce Wayne grew up to be a prick.” Oswald said, rolling his eyes. “The apple didn’t fall far from the tree it seems… But that will only make my revenge feel even better.”

“Uh-uh.” she yawned. “Did you ask him about Falcone?”

“Well, Bruce claims Falcone showed up uninvited, but… I don’t believe him.” Oswald finished in a low tone. “I don’t believe a single word he says.”

“Sucks to be him.” she yawned; the elevator stopped at their floor.

She simply wanted to go back to sleep; but Oswald wasn’t done talking.

“My god, Oswald.” she said finally, her eyes closed. “Look. I love and support you, but I’m going to kill you if you don’t let me sleep.”

In response he only laughed, finally shutting up; few minutes later she felt his warm body next to her and smiled as he wrapped his arms around her.

***

He put his plans in motion soon after. Bruce Wayne’s good name had been dragged through mud and Falcone had been arrested, after GCPD anonymously received a complete documentation of his criminal empire - stored on a drive Oswald hired the elusive Catwoman to steal.

“Oh, this is beautiful!” he said as they were watching the news, a live relation of police’s attack on Skyline club. “Something tells me a lot of land will soon be up for grabs. Should I invest in real estate?”

“Yes, but don’t count on me visiting you there. I… Don’t like heights.” she confessed and he laughed. “One thing the Agency never made me unlearn: fear of heights.”

“Then it’s a good thing penguins are flightless birds.”

Carmine Falcone died few days after being arrested - he was killed, and the killer left no trace, disappearing like a ghost; but somehow - looking at Oswald and listening to his melodious humming - Charlie knew who’s directly responsible.

“Did you kill Falcone?” she asked him one evening; it took him a while to answer.

“Yes.” he finally said, lazily running his fingers through her hair, wrapping the red strands around his fingers, pulling gently. “He deserved it.”

“Mmm, I’m not questioning it.” she purred, thinking back to the massive file the Agency had on him and his entire family. “I just want to know just how much blood exactly do you have on your hands.”

“Mmm. And why’s that?” he asked, sliding his hand down her back. “Do you want me covered in blood, Charlie?”

“Maybe.” she responded, closing her eyes. “Maybe I do. A girl can dream.”

(His bloodied hands, leaving smudges on her skin; his bloodied lips, leaving a metallic aftertaste in her mouth. A girl can dream - and her dreams were of violence.)

“This girl in particular.” he agreed, gently lifting her chin with his other hand and leaning in to steal a kiss from her, like he did many times before. He was so violent, so merciless; but his kisses felt like peace.

He took her with him next time he claimed a life in revenge; his plan was to dispose of cowardly Hill and to put a final nail in the coffin of Bruce Wayne’s good reputation by exposing what Thomas did to his mother.

From what Charlie saw and heard, Oswald missed his mother dearly; she was a gentle soul who always strived to see beauty and hope in the world. What happened to her, what happened to the entire family - was ugly and dark and so, so unfair. Sins of the father are not sins of the child, and Bruce shouldn’t be paying the price for his father’s crimes - but for Charlie Bruce was just one step above a regular stranger. What Oswald was going to do to him wasn’t just; but she didn’t mind. Maybe she was blinded, maybe she was corrupted - or maybe she simply wasn’t a good person.

“This is going to be a masterpiece.” Oswald mused as they were gearing up in one of Penguin’s hideouts. “Most memorable night in Gotham’s history.”

“More memorable than the night when the Waynes died?” Charlie asked, ruffling her hair; the Pinniped - as opposed to elegant, reserved Schiller-Aberdeen - always had her hair in a state of mess, an uncontrollable mass of locks and curls. It was a good disguise; so far no one seemed to connect the dots.

“Way more memorable.” Oswald assured her, tying his tie. “Archie! The serum.”

“Here.” Tennyson said, throwing Oswald two identical syringes, filled with translucent liquid. “That’s all we’ve got.”

“It’ll do.”

“What’s that?” Charlie asked as Oswald put the syringes in his pocket; in response he snickered.

“Very concentrated truth serum my most skilled accomplice cooked up for me in her spare time, between getting into Wayne’s good graces and writing very passionate articles.” he said with a smirk; he was talking about Vicki Vale - a journalist who originally reached out to him with her findings regarding the true nature of the Cobblepot family tragedy. She was cunning and calculating and very, very good at chemistry. “It exposes the most primal, basic instincts, one’s truest nature and most repressed desires. And in bigger doses… It just makes people really aggressive.”

“Oh.” she said with a nervous chuckle, thinking back to that one time when the Joker drugged her. “Just don’t use it on me.”

“There’s no need. It’s been… Thoroughly tested. Besides - it’s reserved for people I’d rather see dead.” he said with a shrug and a reassuring pat at her back.

Finally, the grand moment came; they crashed the debate between two candidates - and Gotham wasn’t too pleased to see Penguin. For the last few weeks, people thought he disappeared off the face of the Earth; perhaps he got hit with a stray bullet. Perhaps a blade found its way between his ribs. Perhaps he got bored. But no - there he was, in the spotlight, making his grand speech about debts and crimes and punishment.

(Looking at him from behind her mask Charlie wondered if he really did think it through; the pot calling the kettle black.)

All eyes were on him and he reveled in this attention; he had a penchant for theatrics. Vicki Vale played her role well, her hands and voice shaking in a very convincing way; though when no one was looking she rolled her eyes and Charlie nudged her with her bat, muffling her own laughter. Oswald seemed to love listening to the sound of his voice - personally she found it charming. It seemed like Vicki found it obnoxious.

They carried their plan out smoothly; Hill’s true nature was exposed, and so was the fate of Esther Cobblepot.

When Oswald turned his attention to panicked Dent - it was Charlie’s moment to shine. She jumped between two men, as if shielding Dent with her own body.

“Not him, no!” she said, letting Gotham believe there were first cracks among Penguin’s associates.

They let Gotham watch as he pushed her aside and cocked his gun, ready to take Dent’s life; they let Gotham watch as she threw herself at him and as he gripped her wrist so tightly she was sure there will be bruises. They let everyone see this staged lover’s quarrel, this game of lies. They threw their bait, letting Gotham believe Penguin’s scorned accomplice might come to their aid.

“You have quite a grip.” she said later that night, examining her bruises in front of a mirror. “You threw me like a ragdoll.”

“It had to be convincing. Was it convincing?”

“Well, if it wasn’t for me being used to your grips and throws…” she said with a playful smile, rubbing some lotion into her skin; it was a healing concoction, one that would render her bruises practically invisible in no time. “What now?”

“Now we wait.” he said with a yawn. “In a few days Wayne Enterprises board should decide it might be best for Brucie to step down. And that’s where I come in… A tragic hero with spotless record, brought back to Gotham by his beloved, unaware of his tragic history.” he said with a theatrical sigh. “Et voila.”

“This is the most elaborate heist I’ve ever seen, I’ve got to admit.” she said, leaving the bathroom. “I’m impressed.”

“I’ve been planning it for months.” he said lazily. “Vale helped, obviously, even though she pushed for more… Extreme measures. She wanted to take over the city. Me? I just want a front for a criminal empire.” he yawned. “God, I’m so tired. Killing people is exhausting.”

“I can imagine.”

*** Oswald got what he wanted so badly - Bruce Wayne was forced to step down as CEO and Oswald was picked to replace him. All his plans lead to that point, to that decision; the beginning of a new chapter in Cobblepot family history.

“There was no other option.” Charlie claimed with a smile as Oswald was getting ready to confront Bruce. “How shall we celebrate… Mister Cobblepot?”

“I was thinking champagne.” Oswald said, reaching for his cufflinks. “But first I want to look Bruce in the eye. I want to see his face when he realizes he lost.”

“A sight to remember.” Charlie agreed lazily. “I’ll drop by the Wayne Tower later. What exactly did you tell the board?”

“A sob story, naturally.” he replied, rolling his eyes. “And as a result I now got a whole new life handed to me, including a platinum credit card and a penthouse. My puppy eyes are a weapon of mass extortion.”

“Oooh, does it mean shopping for furnitures?”

“Yes. And I will gladly let you drag me from store to store. Everything for good PR and a well earned reputation of a charming gent. How do I look?”

“Like a handsome devil. Go, charm Regina Zellerbach out of her pants.”

Few hours later she paid him a visit in his new office. It was a weird feeling, visiting the Wayne Tower to talk to Penguin - but it worked.

She came in at just the right moment - as she shuffled into the room that would soon belong to Oswald Bruce Wayne landed a punch on Oswald’s face. A shattered remains of a glass box between two men told her everything she needed to know; she gasped audibly as Bruce gave Oswald a black eye.

“Bruce!” she and Regina Zellerbach called out simultaneously.

“He lost his bloody mind!” Oswald claimed, sparks of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Did you see that, love?!”

“You know him?!” Bruce asked angrily, turning around and facing her. “Him?!”

“I didn’t know!” she lied, opening her eyes as wide as possible in a display of innocent ignorance. “I didn’t know you two have history together!”

“What do you mean you didn’t know?!” Wayne exploded, as Regina hurried outside to get security. “What game are you playing?”

“I’m not playing games.” she said coldly, walking up to Oswald and taking a look at his eye. “I’m a newcomer and don’t know every detail of Gotham’s history. All I know… Is that you just punched my partner. Please don’t involve me in your dick measuring contest.”

“Mine’s bigger anyway.” Oswald muttered and she scoffed, even though she knew he knows she’s actually amused.

“Go to hell, Oswald. Go to hell.” Bruce said angrily, to which Oswald only shot him a cold smile, not quite matching his majestic black eye.

“I’ll say hi to your parents once I get there.” Oswald said politely and Bruce Wayne left his office, leaving Oswald behind as the new lord of the land - triumphant and content, even despite a black eye.

“I think that’s it for my friendship with Bruce Wayne.” Charlie said, glancing in the direction of the massive door. “I don’t think there will be more tea invites. Not after you called me love. Did you do it just to piss him off?”

“That is a remarkably dumb question, love.” Oswald replied and she laughed, shaking her head.

He touched the skin under his eye and hissed quietly.

“Christ, I didn’t know this wimp can throw a punch like that!”

“Another piece of your martyrdom.” she said, sitting on the surface of the massive, wooden desk. “The news story is practically writing itself.”

“Yes, and it will be one hell of an article.” he muttered in response, critically looking at a nearby bookshelf. “I think I’ll throw this one out and replace it with a giant fish tank. What do you think?”

“I think you should take some interior design classes.” she said, lightly tapping the surface of the desk with her fingertips. “Come here, you martyr.”

Zellerbach came back in a perfect moment - just to see Charlie placing butterfly light kisses on Oswald’s latest bruise. They moved away from each other as the chairwoman cleared her throat.

“Well, that was an unpleasant accident.” Oswald stated, fixing his tie and innocently looking at Regina. “What had gotten into him?!”

“No idea.” the chairwoman replied coldly, as Charlie slowly got up. “I take it… This is the partner you mentioned?”

“That’d be her, yes.” Oswald said, briefly glancing at Charlie. “My partner in crime.”

“Oswald!” Charlie scoffed, hiding her smile. “Be serious.”

“This is very interesting, mister Cobblepot. How comes nobody heard about this affair, if you don’t mind me asking?” Regina asked, turning her attention to Charlie.

“When I first visited Gotham we were still a work in progress. A long distance work in progress.” Charlie lied smoothly. “I wasn’t aware of all the details and no one ever asked about my relationship status, so… It never came up.”

“It’s mostly on me.” Oswald added lazily. “I insisted on keeping it like this, lest it would wreck her good reputation and I’d be seen as a parasite.”

“Well, in a few days you’re going to become a very public person.” Regina warned him. “We scheduled the official announcement for Saturday. Brace yourself, mister Cobblepot. Your every step will be watched… Same goes for people you surround yourself with.”

“Oh, I’ll be on my best behavior.” Oswald assured her politely. “I’ve got everything to lose. No rash decisions, no outbursts… I won’t make the board regret this decision.”

(Something in Regina’s eyes told Charlie at least one member of the board probably already regrets it.)

“I’ll be going now.” Charlie said, smoothing her dress out. “Catch me later, so we can get down to furnishing.”

“Someone already arranged a meeting with a designer.” Regina said with a sour face. “Already had been taken care of. The company really wants to keep its good name.”

“Wonderful! Charlie, love… See you later.”

“I’ll get that champagne.” she said before leaving and he nodded vigorously.

He looked like he was in his element - an important position, lots of people following his orders, lots of money, not a whole lot of responsibility.

Bruce Wayne called her when she was buying a bottle of champagne in one of Gotham’s most expensive stores.

“Hello, Bruce.” she said cautiously, putting a bottle in her basket and briefly glancing towards wines.

“Did you know about this?” Bruce asked, skipping the greetings. “His family history, my family history… It’s oddly convenient that he decided to come back just as my corporation needed a new figurehead.”

“Of course I didn’t know!” she assured Bruce, rolling her eyes. “Though to be fair… He does have every right to be angry.”

“You’re on his side?!”

“Of course I’m on his side, we’re in a relationship! Also we live in the same hotel apartment. I think I’d notice if he was involved in some shady business.”

(Like killing the mayor, drugging the candidate and exposing the true nature of Thomas Wayne.)

“Somehow I know you’re not telling me the truth.”

“Oh, come on, Bruce.” she sighed. “Get some rest, collect your thoughts. You’re paranoid. You’re lucky I even picked up, after your little show at the tower.”

“He’s not worth it, Charlie. This affection, this concern, you, you… He’s not worth it.”

“Oh, but he absolutely is worth it.” she said firmly. “If anyone in this situation doesn’t deserve me - it’s you, since clearly you can’t tell the difference between me and Oswald. See you at the press conference, Bruce. I hope you’ll come to your senses.”

She hung up and the cashier - young woman, named Betty - gave her an understanding smile.

“Men.” she said, shaking her head.

“Men.” Charlie sighed theatrically, swiping her card. “And they say us girls are petty.”

(Lying to Bruce Wayne was as easy as breathing, and she felt no remorse for leading him astray; he meant nothing to her. Their friendship was never meant to be; all it was was just another part of Oswald’s plan, another detail of Wayne’s ruined reputation. His father took everything from Oswald - so now Oswald was taking everything Thomas worked for, piece by piece. His son’s happiness was very high on that list.)

Oswald came home soon after her; he wasn’t needed, as all he had to do was to stick around for the IT guys to get him into the system. He seemed very pleased with himself as he opened the door.

“New era is beginning!” he announced. “Penniless, no-good crook Cobblepot is gone. I’m now the richest no-good crook in all of Gotham! God, I sure am glad I killed Hill and Falcone. I’d hate to be number three.”

“And I’m the best liar in Gotham. What an unstoppable force we are!” she giggled from the couch. “How’s your eye?”

“Hurts like shit, but reminds me of good ol’ times. You could always kiss it better, you know. I’m not going to mind. In fact - I demand it. I demand all the kisses I so rightfully deserve.”

“What, did success go to your head so quickly?” she asked playfully as he walked up to her. “You’re bossy. But it’s alright. I like it when you’re bossy.”

“What a funny coincidence! I also like being bossy.”

Next few days were relatively peaceful - Oswald achieved his main goal, so all that was left to do was for him to officially move into his new apartment and begin his new life as Gotham’s brightest, most tragic and most noble star. Officially, he and Charlie came as a joint package; she brought him back to Gotham, after all. It was only fair she remained in his new life - especially considering being in love would be the best PR move of them all. Nobody knew anything about Wayne’s private life - and Oswald made it his mission to be everything Bruce never was.

So nobody as much as batted an eye when they went shopping for furniture together, after planning out the interior design of Oswald’s brand new nest, located - naturally - in best part of Gotham. Oswald insisted on a bed frame with columns, claiming they are absolutely imperative to his wellbeing.

“But why?” Charlie asked, insisting on something way more simplistic.

“This is not a conversation we should be having in front of other people.” Oswald said with a wolfish grin. “But let’s just say… I think you’ll like it.”

“Alright.” she said, giving up. “Have it your way… But I’m picking the couch. And chairs. I need something with comfortable arm rests.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“...can’t you be decent for thirty seconds?”

“I am perfectly decent.” he said innocently. “I’ve got no idea what are you talking about.”

She nudged him with her elbow and they carried on, taking care of one room at a time; Oswald seemed overjoyed at the perspective of furnishing and decorating a luxurious flat.

(Of course he insisted on a bathtub with colorful lights.)

Eventually all that was left was a trip to the tailor, to get him some better quality clothes; and he turned out to be extremely picky.

“Those two jackets are identical, Oswald. Identical.” Charlie groaned after third hour in the tiny, posh shop.

“Don’t you see the difference in shades?!”

“Obviously I do not. You look good in both, by the way.”

“Mmmm.” he muttered, critically looking at his own reflection, same way he did for the past three hours. “No, something’s off…”

“Jesus Christ.” she muttered and he snickered.

“Hey, everything about this new me has to be impeccable. Beautiful flat? Check. Tragically beautiful backstory? Check. Irresistible charm? Check. You? Check. My clothes should represent everything I stand for.”

“So buy this one.” she said, throwing a blood-colored tie at him.

He did end up buying the red tie, and a wide collection of other things; he left his measurements and address and - when he wasn’t looking, too busy admiring his own reflection, like a very bloodthirsty peacock - she sneakily bought him a pair of ruby cufflinks and a matching sapphire tie pin; they were pretty and in her colors - a gift sappy enough for a young couple and showy enough for social elite.

(The cashier seemed tormented by their presence in the shop and she couldn’t blame him - Oswald was unbearable. It was endearing - but also insufferable.)

“Maybe we should wear matching outfits.” Charlie suggested jokingly on their way home; they finally checked out of the Peak and moved their stuff to his new place. They still had a lot of unpacking to do, because they kept getting distracted - mostly by each other. New furniture needed testing, after all. “Wait. Should I even be there, if I’m not affiliated with Wayne Enterprises?”

“Of course you should be there, I have an image to maintain and people to dazzle.”

“...and that’s the only reason?”

“Of course not, and you know it. Or do you want me to spell it out for you?”

“Mmmm. Yes.” she said, not looking at him. “Why do you want me there?”

“Because…” he said, wrapping his arm around her as they were walking down the street. “Because I love you and am so, so thankful for the part you played in this thing. Also because I want to see Brucie squirm. But mostly because you played a role in this thing as well… And I love having your eyes on me. Good enough answer?”

“Yes.” she said as they entered the building. “Good enough… But I think I didn’t quite hear the first part. Care to repeat?”

“The one about me being grateful?” he asked playfully as they were waiting for the elevator.

She pouted and he laughed; but later that night he gave up and told her what she wanted to hear. He told her multiple times, as he peppered her skin with kisses and as she ruffled his hair, trying to pull him closer.

*** The morning of the press announcement came and Charlie wasn’t nervous; why would she? Everything seemed to be working perfectly for them. Oswald - despite Louise’s claims of being a terrible actor - was playing his part well; he was polite, eloquent, charming. He hid his apparent thirst for blood and other darker urges deep underneath; and watching him get dressed up in the morning Charlie almost forgot about the blood he spilled and things he stole.

(She almost forgot about their circumstances.)

“Wear these.” she said, handing him the gift she bought him yesterday. “It’s… A present.”

“Marking your territory?” he asked with a smirk and she scoffed. “I’ll wear them with pride.”

“You better.” she said, disappearing in the bathroom; she had a lovemark on her neck to cover up.

She left the bathroom dressed up and proper; Oswald watched her as she was putting her shoes on, elegant ankle strap pumps.

“You know, I quite like it when you’re all prim and proper and elegant.”

“Why so?”

“Because it creates a beautiful contrast with the way you are when we are alone. Not quite so proper, not quite so elegant… And definitely not quite so articulate.” he said with a smirk. “People look at you and see a graceful, reserved young woman. I look at you and see… More restrained person.” he said, laughing at his own innuendo; a reference to when they were testing out their new bed and he finally revealed why he insisted on the columns. It was a long night for her, as he refused to give her what she so desperately wanted - not until she admitted his idea was good. And it took a lot of convincing to make her crack, a lot of gentle persuasion - but in the end his silver tongue prevailed and she called his name out tearfully, barely able to arch her back due to her restraints.

It was a fun night - even if it left her with new bruises she had to hide. Other people didn’t need to know the details of their intimacy; even if she sometimes entertained the thought of going out with her bruises exposed - he now had a reputation to maintain. No point in spicing it up with easily misinterpreted bruises.

“Same goes for you, actually.” she said as they were leaving the building. “You come off as charming and polite, but I know you’re actually an insufferable prick.”

“Ah, but also a very handsome one!”

“Infuriatingly handsome.” she admitted, thinking back to that one time he pulled her undies down with his teeth and winked at her, making her blush furiously; he then insisted on having her eyes on him, as a motivation to keep being nice.

She thought about it a lot.

“Do you remember about tonight?” he asked as they were driving towards the Wayne Tower.

“Yes. You’re taking me out for dinner, right?”

“Yes, now that I can actually get a reservation at Lafontaine’s, instead of threatening the owner.” he said and she laughed, thinking back to their first date. “New chapter is beginning. Excited?”

“For a glamorous life as Wayne Enterprise’s CEO’s armcandy? Very. Months of the Agency training are finally paying back.”

He winked at her and she blew him a kiss.

When they arrived, he helped her get out of the car and she brushed his cheek with her lips, giving the reporters what they wanted - a tiny window into Oswald’s private life, shrouded in mystery. Gotham’s prodigal son seemed to be a loner of sorts, only seen in the company of his dazzling paramour or her friends; Penguin had a deal with his men, keeping them as far away from Oswald Cobblepot as possible. It fit Oswald’s image quite well - his story was sad, so it was obvious he was a tragically lonely person, rarely trusting anyone. It was a good facade, a perfect fake surface - and Charlie and Oswald maintained it flawlessly, in their expensive coordinated outfits, pleasant smiles, lovestruck gazes and the way he wrapped his arm around her waist and the way she looked at him when he talked with Bruce.

And it wasn’t a pleasant conversation, even though Oswald made Bruce say pretty please. She nudged Oswald with her elbow when she heard the change in his tone; it was something she was very familiar with. Even without looking at him she knew exactly what face is he making.

“My god, Oswald!” she whispered.

“Shhh, darling, restrain yourself.” he whispered back.

“I’ve got a better idea: you do it.” she said, causing him to slightly tighten his grip around her, in a promisingly threatening way. She felt a shiver run down her spine.

Wayne’s last speech didn’t go as planned and she could see Vicki Vale in the front row, furiously taking notes; she looked at Bruce with disapproval. Deep inside, she really hoped he’ll come to his senses and just accept what happened - but no.

(His wild theory about Oswald being involved in some shady stuff wasn’t even that far off - but Charlie knew that cold glimmer in Oswald’s eyes and the coldness of his voice. She was the one who dreamed of his bloodied fingers, leaving smudges on her skin; people of Gotham only knew his charming smile and eagerness. Nobody believed in a single word Bruce was saying.)

Finally, Oswald - as politely as he could, watched attentively by Zellerbach - got Bruce off the stage and took his place. She followed him with her eyes, tilting her head slightly; she wondered if he can feel her gaze, same way she so often felt his on her skin.

Wayne didn’t look great - in fact he looked sick, pale, his eyes fixated on Oswald’s face. He seemed shaky, unstable; concerned - mostly about Oswald - Charlie quietly approached him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Bruce?” she said quietly, and Vicki Vale watched out of the corner of her eye. “Is everything alright? Bruce?”

She put her hand on his shoulder, he slowly turned his head and looked at her, and his eyes were hazy - and then he pushed her aside. He was surprisingly strong and caught her off guard; she lost her balance and would fall down, if it wasn’t for a nearby reporter catching her.

The commotion got people’s attention; before she knew it - Wayne was holding Oswald by the fabric of his shirt. Oswald was shockingly calm, and taunted Bruce; but lost his patience very quickly.

Charlie walked up to them and once again tried to talk some sense into Wayne. Once again she put her hand on his shoulder - to which he let go of Oswald, turned around and caught her by her neck, tightly wrapping his fingers around her throat, choking her. His grip was strong, and she knew she’s going to black out in a moment; but then Wayne suddenly let go of her.

It wasn’t a pretty fight, and Oswald ended up with his knuckles bloodied and new bruises on his face; she was left with a bruised neck. Bruce was left with his reputation completely tarnished; and the press conference was over, with Oswald assuring the journalists he’ll gladly take their questions any other day.

Shaken Charlie was escorted to Oswald’s office, which was in the process of being redecorated; the fish tank was already in place - but it lacked fish.

Oswald joined her few minutes later, putting an ice bag to his latest bruise.

“What was that?!” she asked him as soon as he walked in. “Was that planned?”

“Not by me, that’s for sure. Usually my plans don’t include me getting pummeled into the ground.” he scoffed. “Neither they include you being choked by Bruce Wayne. Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” she sighed, rubbing her neck. “I guess it looks worse than it feels… Though I do prefer when it’s you choking me. You know. “

“You’re still yourself, that’s good.” he said with relief. “I think I know what happened… And if I’m right - I’m going to kill Vicki Vale. I’m going to slit her throat-”

“As much as I appreciate the perspective of you covered in blood… Maybe don’t do that.” she interrupted him hastily. “Come on, Oswald. No harm done, Bruce’s reputation destroyed… Bruises will heal.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Oswald sighed heavily. “Though I do not appreciate the pain. Should I cancel the tonight’s reservation?”

“Are you kidding me? No, of course not! We now have to wear those bruises with pride… Also I really want to try that crème brûlée with raspberry sorbet.” she added and he laughed. “Every time we were at Lafontaine’s we had to stop before getting to the dessert. Maybe those bruises will bring us good luck?”

“Third time’s a charm, so you’re probably right.” he agreed, gently brushing her neck with his fingertips. “Do you think you can fake a breakdown?”

“Aw, trying to get away from work? Bored already, Oswald?”

“I have to be careful.” he said with a shrug. “Gain their trust so they go with changes I’m about to suggest… And going home to take care of someone in hysterics will probably earn me some of those good guy points.”

“Alright, I can be a delicate flower.” she agreed. “Watch out, mister, from now on you have a dainty and fragile lass to take care of.”

Her fake breakdown was a masterpiece, even though she nearly broke the character as Oswald was walking her to the elevator.

“You sure as hell look dainty and fragile when we’re alone and you’re begging, you know.” he whispered into her ear and she quickly turned her laughter into sobs. No one questioned her tears and shivers and how tightly she was gripping the fabric of Oswald’s clothes; Bruce Wayne was allegedly her friend. Of course she was in shock.

“Oh, that was bloody brilliant.” Oswald stated as they got into the car. “You almost convinced me.”

“I almost convinced myself.” she said, glancing at her reflection in the mirror; her eyeliner and mascara were very effectively smudged and the skin around her eyes and lips was rosy. “Come on. Let’s go home, I want to take a nice, long bath before dinner.”

On their way home, Oswald tried to reach out to Vicki - but to no avail. She wasn’t picking up her phone; and Louise claimed she has no idea where is she, stating they broke up a while ago.

“Then maybe I should pay her a visit.” Oswald mused. “Maybe I should gather my boys and pay miss Vale a visit. And then… We’ll talk.”

“Or you could not do that and lure her out instead.” Charlie suggested. “She’s not your enemy, Oswald. Remember, she helped a lot. This probably is just a misunderstanding.”

“You know, I wouldn’t have anything using her serum on Bruce.... If only she told me beforehand. So I could be prepared. You know. I’d come up with a speech, maybe a sharp, witty quip… But this? This ruined a perfect day.”

“Oh, come on. Stop being overdramatic and don’t let something like this ruin a moment of triumph. I’m alive, you were seen as a noble knight, Bruce Wayne was seen as highly dangerous… When you think about it, it’s actually a perfect scenario!” she continued, until - eventually - he smiled.

“You know what? You’re right. You’re right. This is my day. I got a chance to punch Bruce and rack up some social approval points. I’m going to just take a deep breath… And proceed with what I had planned out.”

“...well that sounds surprisingly ominous.” she said jokingly. “Should I be scared?”

“Very.” he said with a cocky smile as he was parking the car. “What, didn’t I tell you? Dinner’s not the only thing I had planned in terms of… Celebration. We’re on top, Charlie. This should be a night to remember.”

“Alright, surprise me then.” she said, getting out of the car. “Just let me take a bath first. And maybe make me some french toast. I’m hungry, but I don’t want to stuff myself before dinner.”

“Ah, you’re such a demanding mistress.” he said jokingly. “Can your humble servant at least get a kiss?”

He got a kiss from her in the elevator, just the way she liked it; with his hand on her back and his finger under her chin. It always made her feel vulnerable, but she didn’t mind being vulnerable around him, despite all odds. Her vulnerability wasn’t a tactical disadvantage - but a source of satisfaction.

Also he looked disturbingly hot with dried up blood splattered on the collar of his shirt, a proof of what happened earlier that day.

“Now make me that toast.” she muttered after stepping into the apartment. “And I’m going to take a bath. God, I can still feel his fingers on my neck.”

“He’ll pay. But as for now… Just relax.”

She took a long, relaxing bath, only interrupted by Oswald bringing her her toast - and his french toast was the stuff dreams are made of. Not sickly sweet, with just the right amounts of brown sugar and cinnamon, with just a hint of nutmeg, crunchy… She had no idea who taught him that and why, but it sure as hell was a useful skill. Completely useless in robberies and arms dealing - but perfect for making her feel at peace. Oswald Cobblepot truly was a man of many talents.

He cornered her some time later. She was trying to figure out the expiration date on a jug of apple juice when he walked in; and she could feel his eyes on her bare legs. He often said he loves the way she looked at him - but the truth was, she also loved the way he looked at her; he always looked at her as if he was planning something positively unspeakable. It was very flattering - and very effective.

“You’re staring.” she said, without turning around. “What is it?”

“You’re wearing my shirt.” he shot back; and he was right, she was wearing one of his better dress shirts, with pearl buttons. “I want it back.”

Something in the tone of his voice told her the correct answer, and she smirked; they played this game many times before, this game of cat and mouse where she’d rather get caught than run away.

“Come and get it then.” she said, putting the jug back in the fridge.

She dove under his arm and bolted out of the kitchen and he followed; it didn’t took him long to catch up to her. It never did, because she never actually tried to put up a fight. Why would she? She liked what came next.

“Nooo!” she wailed as he threw her over his shoulder. “This is not fair!”

“Life’s unfair.” he stated. “Stop squirming, you’re not getting away.”

He got his shirt back, and she got something better; she got his touch and his kisses and his teeth on her neck. His fingers crept between her thighs and she sighed and smiled as he peppered her skin with kisses; on her neck, on her breasts, on her stomach, lower, lower, lower.

He had a wicked tongue, and he often used it to bend people to his will; most often he used honeyed words or sharp threats to do so. In her case, however, it was all about the direct approach - and all about pleasure and shivers and making her arch her back as he teased and taunted her and she moaned and gripped the bedsheets.

He got her to the edge - and then he stopped.

“What?” she muttered feverishly, her face flushed and her thoughts and eyes hazy. “Oh, come on.”

“I’m just trying to make our dinner interesting, that’s all.” he said innocently, sliding out from between her legs and resting his chin on her abdomen. “Speaking of which… We should leave soon.”

“You are the worst.” she stated, running her fingers through his hair. “The absolute worst. You’re cruel and insufferable and generally a prick.”

“All part of my charm, love.”

She laughed and pushed him off and got up to get dressed, knowing it will take a lot of time for the warm tension that built up in her body to go away.

Naturally, he wasn’t going to make anything easy for her. As she left the bathroom - wearing her trademark black lace underwear they both seemed to love - and opened the closet to decide on which dress to wear he cleared his throat.

“Mmmm?” she asked, not turning around. “What is it?”

“I want to see you squirm.” he said and she turned around. “Interested?”

“Oh, very.” she said at the sight of red rope in his hands; they’ve done it before, except that’d be the first time she was among the people with rope under the fabric of her clothes. It was an exciting thought - something hidden in plain sight, a knot pressing against her and the growing sense of desperation.

“Do your magic.” she said. “Just don’t make it too tight.”

“Don’t give me ideas.” he said, already wrapping the rope around her waist.

After he was finished and she tested it out - not too tight, not too slippery, just perfect to make focusing on anything else difficult - he smiled with satisfaction.

“Maybe I should get us last minute opera tickets.” he said and she shot him a terrified look. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m just joking. I hate opera.”

“So that’s the only problem here? How comforting.”

She put her dress on - simple and black, with a classic leg cut and Queen Anne neckline, directing the attention to her neck and dark bruises on it. She didn’t wear any necklace that time; only what drugged Wayne did to her. A simple, dramatic statement; for a brief moment she considered poking herself in the eye to make it red, but she gave up on the idea.

“I’m good to go.” she said eventually, putting her hairbrush down and picking her clutch up. “Also hungry.”

“Same on both fronts.” he said, putting on his midnight blue jacket; with a sting of satisfaction she noticed he’s wearing the cufflinks and tie pin she gave him. “So let’s go. Just… Don’t speak French to Moreau if we bump into him. He might figure you out.”

“Oh, I doubt it. He was scared shitless every time he saw me, I don’t think he’s going to connect the dots. But alright, no French tonight… Outside of kissing.” she added and he laughed, making her feel as if she had a bunch of butterflies in her stomach.

It’s been a couple of months since she returned to Gotham after putting everything on one card and leaving the Agency; quite some time had passed since they made up and she earned his trust again - and it still felt like the honeymoon phase of a relationship. She didn’t mind, not at all.

Lafontaine’s main room was well lit, spacious and filled with warm colors and Charlie smiled lightly, thinking back to her secret meetings with Oswald in the vip room located at the back. This time was going to be different; this time everyone knew and all eyes were on them, even though everyone was pretending they’re not staring at Oswald Cobblepot and his paramour and dark bruises on her neck. He seemed confident and polite, keeping his head high and she smiled as he pulled out a chair for her.

(Her breath got shaky for a moment as she was sitting down, the knot pressing against her. So much for the perfect gentleman Cobblepot.)

“I feel like a caged animal in the zoo.” he muttered quietly, so quietly only she could hear him. “Everyone’s staring.”

“I thought you like attention?”

“I do, but I also value my privacy. Also I look out of place.” he pointed out, brushing his jaw with his fingertips; and he was right, in a way. His suit was impeccable; but his face was rough. He was very nice to look at - but his bruises and scar did stand out quite a bit. She could only imagine it’s even more visible when observed right next to her own - rather delicate - features.

“Maybe a bit, but I wouldn’t have you any other way. I like your face.” she said, picking up a menu. “Oh! They changed the selection a bit.”

“Maybe I should skip hors d'oeuvres.” he muttered, winking at her; she quietly laughed, covering her mouth. “And dessert.”

“Somewhere in the afterlife our ancestors are very scandalized.” she said, not looking up from her own menu. “I’m not though, I’m… Intrigued.”

“Patience, darling, patience.”

It was a pleasant evening, even if she could feel other people’s eyes on her skin; strangers looked at their every gesture and tried to eavesdrop on every word, every quiet laugh. She wondered what do those other people see when they glance at them, unaware of blood on his hands and a piece of rope under her dress, what do they see when they look at the way he pours wine for her.

Naturally, he made her squirm a bit; by making her laugh and by lying to her about her lipstick being smudged, which caused her to get up and go to bathroom - and this short walk left her feeling very tense.

“How about a walk before heading home?” he asked playfully after regulating the bill. “The weather’s perfect…”

“You prick.” she whispered back as they were walking towards the exit. “You ass.”

In response he only laughed, pulled her closer and planted a light kiss on her cheek.

“You’re digging your own grave.” he whispered into her ear. “We’re now going… To the opera.”

And he wasn’t joking - he forced her to endure a long spectacle, as they sat in the darkness and his warm hand rested on her thigh and he planted a light, almost mocking kiss on her neck. The much desired release seemed to be very far away.

“Can we please go home now?” she asked eventually, as they were slowly walking down the street.

“Oh, maybe. Why do you want to get home so badly?” he asked casually; she looked around, glancing at other people, who definitely were close enough to hear her if she spoke normally.

“Because I don’t want to be arrested for public indecency.” she said nonchalantly; an elderly couple nearby shot her a scandalized look. “And I’m afraid it’s about to happen.”

“You raise a fair point. Fine, we’re going home… Away from the prying eyes. Just you, me… And all the things I’m going to do to you.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

She found out soon enough, and it was a long night for her; she ended up with more bruises and bitemarks and his relentless, merciless teasing turned her into a feverish, bumbling mess under his touch, taunted with fake promises. He wasn’t feeling gentle, and she didn’t mind, not when he pulled her hair, not when he dragged his nails across the sensitive skin of her thigh. It was a long night, and when she finally wrapped her legs around him he laughed in her face and claimed she’s going to break his ribs. He kept laughing as she bit his arm and scratched his back and pulled his hair and only stopped laughing as she kissed him, her breath hot and shaky.

It was a long night and her body was sore, but it was a good kind of sore; one that can be soothed by falling asleep in someone’s warm embrace.

*** He woke her up by dropping a newspaper on her back.

“What?” she muttered without moving, still on her stomach, her cheek pressed to the pillow and her eyes closed. “Can’t it wait?”

“It can, but I want to see your reaction. Come on, Charlie. Rise and shine.”

“Make me.” she muttered, to which he grabbed her ankles and pulled. It worked; fully awake Charlie crawled back into bed and rolled onto her back, rubbing her eyes.

“Oh, cripes.” Oswald said, seeing the mark his teeth left on her right breast. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I like it when you bite me.” she muttered, reaching for the newspaper. “Oh hey, it’s an article about you fighting Bruce in my defense. That’s a damn good photo.”

“Turn to page six.”

“...what?” she said after rereading the header for a few times. “This is bullshit, I didn’t have an affair with him!”

“I know you didn’t, but I still wanted to see your reaction.” he said, visibly satisfied. “Since officially we go way back… Congratulations, Charlie, you cheated on me with Bruce Wayne. You bewitched him completely.”

“Stop it!” she pleaded as he laughed. “This is giving me the creeps, I’d never see him like this!”

“Oh, this is beautiful. And this alleged quote? Him saying If I can’t have you, no one can? This is absolutely hilarious.”

“Who the hell gave them that quote? Oh, it’s from an anonymous source. Of course. It’s been less than twenty four hours and we’re already in the center of a scandal.” she sighed. “Does it mean I’ll have to cry on live television, saying I’d never cheat on you and am absolutely heartbroken from those allegations?”

“Most likely.” he said with amusement. “It probably also means we’ll have to tell our beautiful, completely fake story. Everyone’s curious about me. All the eyes are on me.”

“Let’s stage a breakup.” she muttered. “Or not. Let’s keep the lie going. Paint you with the whitest paint in existence.”

“I’d like to remind you about a tiny, insignificant detail: we’re together for real. Me being a good person is a lie, us being head over heels for each other… Not so much. Let’s not make it any more complicated, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.” he said very seriously. “I’ve got a corporation to take over. With time I’m going to make people forget about Bruce Wayne. I’m going to be so, so much more lovable than he ever was. Let’s not stage a breakup. You’re a terrific actress, Charlie. I’m sure you can squeeze out some more fake tears.”

“I can squeeze out oceans of tears.” she yawned. “Chill out, Oswald, I’m not bailing out. I’m having too much fun. You seem stressed though.”

“I do? I’m not stressed, I’m excited. I finally got my hands on what I wanted. The possibilities… Are endless.”

“Try to not forget about Penguin though. People might get suspicious if he just disappears.”

“Ah, but don’t you worry about a thing, I’ve got it all figured out.” he assured her. “I can lead a double life.”

“We can lead a double life.” she corrected him. “Last time I disappeared people started to suspect Penguin killed the Pinniped and dumped her corpse into Gotham River. And now they’ve seen me disobey you. I can’t just go away, someone might add domestic abuse to your list of charges.”

“Which… Wouldn’t actually be that bad of a move, strategic wise.” he suggested. “It’s all in the behavior. The more different Penguin and Pinniped are from Oswald and Charlie… The better. As far as I’m concerned, we appear to be a picture perfect young couple of polite, charming individuals. Anyone suggesting we might have anything to do with those violent, overly dramatic and theatrical criminals will be seen as crazy.”

“Wow, you really have it figured out. Alright, it’s your plan, I’m just an accomplice.” she said with a shrug. “For now let’s go with the flow. Planning far ahead… For some reason never works out for me. Case in point: you. That wasn’t planned, and look at me now.”

“Oh, I’m looking.” he said with a smirk. “And it’s as pleasant on the eyes, as Cobblepot is easy on the tongue.”

“You must be really proud of that one liner.” she groaned. “It’s terrible. Terrible. Also I’m hungry. Since you’re not letting me sleep… At least compensate me with food.”

“Only if you’ll agree to accompany me today.”

“...well that sounds ominous. What do you have in mind?”

“I want to visit the cemetery where my parents are buried.” he said flatly. “I...Never got a chance to do it, because at first I was on the other side of the pond, and then I didn’t want Gotham to know Oswald’s back. So that’d be the first time… In a long, long while.”

“That’s one way of starting breakfast.” she replied after a pause. “See, now I’m going to feel weird with asking you for bacon pancakes, now that you dropped this grave revelation on me. Of course I’ll come with you, just… Next time maybe pick a better moment to ask. For a seasoned charmer and a diplomat… You have ridiculously bad timing.”

“No one’s perfect, even though I’m pretty close to it.” he said, and he sounded like he was trying to hide his relief behind a facade of cockiness. Being cocky suited him, same way his meticulously tailored suits and old scars suited him; being a sentimental sap suited him as well - but she could imagine he’s not yet ready to embrace that part of himself.

They decided to put fixing the affair with Bruce mess off for later; naturally they had to do it eventually, as Oswald was the second most watched person in Gotham, newly elected mayor Dent being the number one. The anonymous allegation of Charlie secretly putting penniless Oswald - and the then-developing thing between them, according to the fake story they created for the sake of everyone from outside their inner circle - aside for the sake of charming, monumentally rich Bruce… Wasn’t good publicity.

“Did you know there’s an entire hashtag on twitter devoted only to the Waynes thing?” she said as they were driving in a car and she was on her phone. “Waynegate. It’s booming. Also you should get a twitter. We could be disgusting online.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“Aaand I just made a mistake.” she declared, liking a tweet. “My account got verified and I just liked a clip of you decking Bruce with mmm whatcha say in the background. God, people are really head over heels with you.”

“Of course they are, I’m charming, tragic and genuine. What’s not to love?”

She snorted quietly. His narcissism was very blatant - he was semi-decent at hiding it, but he also loved to give in to his penchant for theatrics, showmanship and attention. All parts of his charm; sure, it was a very specific charm, but… She liked it.

“Someone just called you Oswald CobbleHOT.” she announced eventually and he laughed. “Their friends are shaming them for it, but they’re adamant. I retweeted it. For now I’m pretending I haven’t read the news and don’t know anything about any affair.”

“It’s Sunday. Let’s have a day off from public relations and maintaining a good image.”

“But you’ve only been a public person for a day! Tired already?”

“I’m never tired.” he said, noticing a good parking spot. “And if I’m tired, I’m tired of other people, not of accomplishing my goals. Also… It’s Sunday and we’re alone. Let’s be ourselves for a day.”

“Oh, right, I forgot your charming and polite persona is just a disguise.” she teased. “No, no, don’t say anything, I know what you mean. I’m just being an ass, since you want me to be myself.”

“Ah, but that’s the entire point, isn’t it? Me being charming isn’t entirely fake. Same applies to you being sweet and gentle. Because let’s face it - you are a very sweet person. Even when you’re being an ass. Especially when you’re being an ass.”

“Oh my gosh.” she said, feeling a lump in her throat. “Stop it, you disgustingly charming sap. Don’t use your charm against me.”

At that time of day - early afternoon - the cemetery was almost completely empty; it wasn’t a good time for visiting dead loved ones. Maybe for the better; crowded cemeteries felt weird, unnatural. There was no privacy, and the ever present sounds of living felt like the disturbance to otherwise firm sleep.

It was a warm, slightly breezy day; and the grave of Oswald’s parents was located in the older, more elite part of the cemetery. Their last luxury - being buried among the elite, right next to the Waynes, as he bitterly pointed out.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” he said as they were slowly walking towards the grave. “Even in death they can’t get away.”

For a forgotten grave, it was surprisingly well-kept - almost as if someone was taking care of it during Oswald’s absence.

“I don’t think it was Bruce.” Oswald stated, looking at the names of his parents inscribed on the tombstone and his eyes eyes looked very shiny. “Since apparently he only just found out about everything.”

“I could check if this mysterious someone left any fingerprints.” Charlie suggested hesitantly, feeling lost. The list of potential candidates wasn’t very long; she remembered Carmine Falcone had a daughter who had a strained relationship with her family, but Sofia lived away from Gotham and Charlie doubted she was aware of exact details of her father’s criminal activities. There also was the daughter of Hamilton Hill, there was Alfred - and that would be it. Even if Cobblepots had any close friends they were unlikely suspects, considering none of them took any interest in Oswald’s wellbeing over the years. Bruce’s good natured butler and the daughters of Falcone and Hill - possibly ridden with guilt over sins of their fathers - were all she could come up with.

“Leave it, it’s not worth it.” Oswald said, not taking his eyes off the black tombstone. “Would you mind if I talked to them a bit?”

“Talking to a grave won’t be the strangest thing you’ve done in my presence, so… Go ahead. Do you want some privacy?”

“No, no.” he replied hastily. “That’s not needed. I’m not going to tell them anything you don’t already know. Dead men tell no secrets… But they also don’t hear any.”

She nodded and gently squeezed his hand; he squeezed hers in return, and for a brief moment he looked more like a scared and lonely kid he once was, than a remorseless criminal he became.

“That’s not how it should have been.” Oswald said finally and she remained silent. “It’s Sunday. I shouldn’t be talking to your grave, I should be talking to you over tea. Both of you should be alive. But you’re not, and there’s no bringing you back - all I can bring back are small pieces of what had been stolen from us. I can use those as a foundation for something new, something bigger… Even if cement between bricks will be laced with blood. I’ve done some truly, deeply reprehensible things, things that go against everything you tried to teach me. But look at where your principles got you, and where mine got me. I can’t say I’m proud of who I am, but I’m getting there. I’m bringing back the good name of our family. I’m starting a new chapter - without the Waynes, without Hill, without Falcone. I cleared the board and now I’m the king.”

He paused for a moment.

“I’m very selective in who I surround myself with.” he said, almost hesitantly. “Scumbags like me, broken like me, angry like me. People I can relate to, people who understand. You wouldn’t like them, but beggars can’t be choosers. Even though I think you’d like her. She’s as horrible as I am, except she’s better at hiding it. Her name is Charlie and she’s standing right next to me. She’s… Helping me. And you know what? Now I understand. Now I understand.”

He fell silent again; after a while he turned his head and looked at her.

“Tell me about your parents.” he said quietly.

“They’re buried in New York.” she replied softly. “I think they’d get along with yours. My mom was a surgeon, and my dad was a politician, with… Ties to the Agency. They were good people.”

“A politician, huh?” he said, his eyes regaining their usual, mischievous spark. “So either that or a good person. Don’t speak in oxymorons.”

“Oh, piss off.”

She smiled and he sighed, putting his hands in his pockets, returning his attention to the tombstone.

“Thank you for coming with me.” he said eventually, not looking at her. “It means… A lot. We could visit yours next week if you want to. I think I can squeeze a trip to New York into my oh-so-busy schedule.”

“Yeah. I’d like that.” she said, thinking back to the funeral. “Hey, Oswald?”

“Mmm?”

“I love you. A lot.”

“And I love you.” he replied quietly. “Also I’m going to need your help in doing something incredibly petty.”

“I’m all ears.”

“There’s a photographer stalking us.” he said calmly. “I’ve seen their reflection in the stone, it’s so well-polished. So when we’ll be walking away I’m going to need you to stretch, so I can spit on the grave of Thomas Wayne.”

“Alright, you overgrown toddler, I’m game. He deserves that. Aaaand… Let’s go.”

As they were walking past the grave of the Waynes she stretched, taking as much space as she could; and Oswald slightly turned his head and spat, snickering with satisfaction.

“Happy?” she asked as they were walking towards the gate.

“More or less.”

*** She had to put on quite a show due to the rumors of her having an affair with Bruce - she was very, very curious who came up with that fake quote, who was so desperate to try and wreck Oswald’s spotless reputation by insinuating his partner is unfaithful.

“Maybe it was Vicki?”

“No, I already asked.” he muttered, reading something. “That’s not even her article. She admits to drugging Wayne, but says she has nothing to do with the affair thing. And honestly? I believe her.”

“Wait, hold on. You found her?”

“Yeah, she was hiding from me at the Waterfront. Now that Falcone’s dead it’s much safer. Fish ratted her out. We had a nice chat.”

She raised her eyebrows and he looked up and smiled.

“No, I didn’t break her fingers, if that’s what you’re wondering.” he said politely, answering a question she never asked. “I only yelled at her and threatened to expose her involvement in everything. That convinced her to admitting to drugging Wayne during the conference. She says it’s because she was pissed I refused to go with her impossible revolution. Delusions of grandeur, and so on.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Charlie muttered. “Don’t say anything more, I don’t even want to know. Just… As long as you’re sure she’s not the one responsible.”

“Oh, I’m certain of it. Don’t worry. We’ll get that bastard, and then… We’ll figure something out. You can always go full Gone Girl and fake a diary.”

“Oh my god, you’ve watched Gone Girl? Did you like it?”

“I did, actually. Amy was a terrific - and terrifying - character. Very inspiring.”

“Yeah, that’s an opinion I can get behind with. Alright, I can go Amy Dunne on the press. It can be arranged.”

But first, it was time for tears - a very heartfelt, tearful interview with Cobblepot’s lovely, dainty partner, the girl who brought him back and was absolutely heartbroken at the allegations. Of course she would never cheat on him, she never as much as considered it; she loved him with her whole heart, it was love at first sight, almost like a fairytale.

“He’s a gentleman.” she stated, her skin bruised by handcuffs and marked by his teeth safely hidden under the fabric of her elegant clothes. “A good man, with heart in the right place, even despite everything he’s been through.”

(He laughs as he talks about burning Gotham down; she wonders if someone from the Agency is watching, listening.)

“And how did you two meet?”

“In the middle of a night, in a dark alley… I had a knife to my neck and stranger’s hand up my skirt and that’s when Oswald showed up. He didn’t quite look like a knight in shining armor, in that ridiculous coat of his, but… In that moment I understood how Guinevere felt when Lancelot swept in.”

She gave a serene smile, thinking back to their true first meeting; abandoned warehouse, sense of urgency in the air.

“He’s gentle and kind and I would never hurt him like this. I love him too much. Sure, we had to spend some time apart, but… This idea never occurred to me. I missed him dearly - but there’s no good substitute for Oswald. There’s no substitute, period.”

And so the interview went, filled with half-truths and not-quite-lies and sweet declarations of love. They asked her about their sex life, to which she nervously smiled and stated she’d rather not get into detail, but in general it’s very normal, nothing out of the ordinary.

(His fingers wrapped around her neck feel like the gentlest of kisses, and the constant denial feels like the most generous of gifts.)

She painted their relationship in the most dreamy, fluffy colors possible - and not everything was a lie. She’d never cheat on him, there was mutual trust, they had something special, something she wouldn’t have with anyone else. And Louise - her alleged long lost school friend - confirmed her lies without as much as batting an eye; yes, Charlie already was infatuated with Oswald when they reunited in Gotham. Yes, she wouldn’t shut up about him. Yes, it was unbearable. No, she doesn’t know if she’s the new district attorney, what is this interview even about?

Oswald - who watched the entire thing live on his phone - was overjoyed; he claimed she was terrific and very, very convincing. She wasn’t so sure about that last part.

“Aww, someone on twitter is already over analyzing everything.”

“Anything good?”

“Yeah. lmao “vanilla sex” this is a face of a liar”

“Yeah, to be honest… That was the least convincing part.”

“I wasn’t expecting a question about sex! You know, I had a - very brief - moment of being very close to saying the truth… But there were no good words for it. Also I’m not sure Gotham general population would appreciate me suddenly going he likes to tie me up and make me beg, and he’s good at it, also our safe word is WAYNE and you wouldn’t BELIEVE what he sometimes does before we go out!”

“I can imagine that would be one hell of a scandal, your chivalrous knight actually being a deviant.”

“Deviant in a shining armor and on a white horse.” she corrected him and he laughed and pulled her closer.

*** They were absolutely disgusting together, as stated by Louise and other people unfortunate enough to spend time with them. It was mostly friends she made in Gotham; he was surprisingly antisocial and heavily relied on her in terms of networking. She was good at picking the right people to befriend - smart, capable, influential in some way. Oswald seemed to get along with pretty much everyone; he was simply terrible at making the first step. How he managed to gather a group of loyal people was beyond her; but he found a way.

Her new friends - people she met through Louise, who spent so much time in Gotham she was basically rooted there - seemed to accept him with no problem, occasionally joking about moving up in the social ranks, considering they’re suddenly hanging out with the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. The only downside was the fact she had to keep her dainty act up around them; but she was starting to sort of like this role. It was kind of nice, being able to - for a while - forget her training and just be a well mannered, bubbly girl from a good home, a gentle soul, so unlike the wild Pinniped, who seemed to defy her Penguin more and more often, planting seeds of discord among his men. Naturally, it was all an act; all was good between them and his men were simply following orders. Oswald had his eyes set on a particular plot of land; and he was willing to go to great lengths to acquire it. Simply buying it was out of question; so he had to think strategically.

And he wasn’t half bad, Charlie decided; in fact - he was doing good as CEO, slowly gaining more and more trust and respect. He wasn’t able to resist the temptation of spending enormous amounts of money - but it was alright. No one actually expected him to not buy a yacht, or a painting, or something equally useless. Officially and publicly they lived in a way everyone expected them to - they were often seen together, hand in hand, smiling, in love. Eating brunch, attending a fundraiser or a vernissage or a spectacle, shopping. People were enthralled with them as a couple, the way he’d wrap his arm around her waist, the way she’d rest her cheek against his arm, the way they’d lightly kiss before parting ways, the way they’d call each other honey, darling, love.

For his birthday, she reached out to Sofia Falcone, who inherited all of Carmine’s belongings; there still was quite a number of Cobblepot family memorabilia in his collection and she gladly took it off Sofia’s hands. She never talked about it publicly - but somehow the press just knew. He was moved - and that night he was tender and gentle. He didn’t give her any new bruises to hide under clothes; he touched her softly, and she didn’t mind, she didn’t mind at all.

It was a good life. They mostly only had evenings and nights and weekends for each other, so they were making the most out of it; during the day he was busy being professional and competent, and she was busy helping out at one of local dog shelters. She always liked dogs - they were loyal and kind and wonderfully silly and she could spend an eternity surrounded by them.

It also led to Oswald seeing her in pants for the first time - it just… Didn’t happen before. During their months together, he’d only seen her in dresses or skirts - that’s just how the life was.

“What.” he said after bumping into her, as she was wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. “WHAT.”

“...what?” she asked, looking at him. “What?”

“Those are pants. Until now I didn’t even know you have those.”

“...of course I have pants. Jeans, dress pants, yoga pants… You didn’t think I practice yoga naked, right?”

“I… Never thought about it. Shit, I just lost a bet to Louise. I claimed there’s no way you own pants. She said there’s no way you don’t.”

“Do you want to be even more shocked?”

“Oh, I’m not sure if my heart can take it.”

“I also have shoes that have flat soles.” she said, pointing at her feet; he dramatically clutched his heart.

(He later told her she looked beautiful; no matter how many times she heard it from him - it always left her with a flock of butterflies in her stomach.)

***

They reached peak gross at a Halloween party in Virago, shortly after his birthday.

It took them quite some time to decide on their costumes - he insisted on something matching, which narrowed the selection. They toyed with many ideas - vampire and his thrall. The witch and her servant. The most classical duo of them all - angel and devil. They tested out a lot of ideas, mostly through bed - they were like that. They liked to sometimes spice things up with a little roleplay. For his birthday they decided on a very fake, very pleasant kidnapping; it was fun, especially the things he did with a knife.

(She still had shivers thinking about the cold tip of the knife slowly sliding across her skin, sharp edge cutting through her clothes. She wouldn’t mind a reprise.)

The final idea came to them by accident; she was bored and alone at home and he was at a business meeting, charming the pants off potential investors. She wasn’t making anything easy for him; she just bought herself a new, pastel-pink lingerie set and was in the process of demonstrating it to him through photos, when someone on twitter made a dumb joke.

and persephone is back to getting dicked down by hades in the underworld

That was almost like a revelation - the most obvious choice, and probably also the best one. She was so excited she accidentally almost posted one of her - thankfully more coy - photos online; and Oswald agreed that this indeed does sound like the best idea.

So - night of the party had come and they were both ready, clad in their costumes. His himation was dark, and he wielded a sceptre and wore a cypress crown on his head; her chiton was light pink - even though they weren’t sure if ancient Greeks even had this color of fabric - and decorated with flowers. She also wore a crown of flowers in her hair - and also carried a plush Cerberus around under her arm, because Oswald insisted on it, claiming it was too adorable to be left at home.

Under the fabric, an intricate web of rope was wrapped around her body; Oswald outdid himself this time, not limiting himself to a simple knotted piece between her legs. He managed to tie everything in a way that rendered it invisible to someone who didn’t know it’s there; there were no stray pieces, no unnecessary loops peeking from underneath the fabric.

“Oh my god, you look adorable.” he said after seeing her in full costume. “I’m not going to be decent tonight. This shade of pink? Your color. Literally. It’s the color of your-”

“-sensitive parts, yes.” she said, her cheeks red. “Alright, be indecent. I guess no one can expect decency from a god of death.”

“Maybe I should kill someone and cover myself in blood. What do you think?”

“I think I wouldn’t mind, even though it’d ruin our good bedsheets.”

“There’s always a kitchen table, or your favorite chair, or a wall, or-”

“Oswald!”

“Fine! I’ll be good now.” he promised. “Even though I will live up to my costume. I think I know exactly what did Hades do to keep Persephone at his side… Except for the pomegranate thing, that is.”

“Well, color me intrigued.” she giggled, picking up her plush dog. “Come on. We’ll be fashionably late… Again.”

Rumi Mori - their gracious host and owner of the Virago - was dressed up as Dionysus, as Charlie pointed out, nudging Oswald with her elbow; their friends rolled their eyes as they noticed their costumes. Apparently dressing up as Hades and Persephone was obnoxious - even though she could clearly see other, much worse, costumes. Vicki and Louise came as a cat and mouse, for god’s sake.

“Do you think it’ll work?” Oswald asked quietly, watching very chatty Mori. “Remind me, how did your visit go?”

Few weeks earlier Charlie - disguised as the Pinniped - paid Mori a late night visit. This short and round foreigner was a man of many faces; not only he was the owner of a place Oswald badly wanted to purchase, he was also one of Gotham’s leading arms dealers - and Penguin’s main business rival. He was cunning and deceptive, stealing lucrative deals right from under Penguin’s beak; and this was a good occasion to kill two birds with one stone.

So one night Charlie snuck in, alone; it was a dangerous mission, but Oswald had faith in her abilities. She cornered Mori in his office, where he was enjoying a late night glass of scotch.

“Mori, Mori, Mori.” she said, slowly approaching him. “We need to talk.”

Before the plump businessman reacted, she pacified him; he wasn’t an action oriented person, so it was as easy as taking candy from a baby. She sat on the surface of his desk, looking at his mortified face from behind her mask.

“Do you know who am I, Mori?” she asked, crossing her legs; he nodded.

“You’re the Penguin’s woman.” he said shakily; she scoffed and shook her head.

“Wrong answer, Mori. Try again.”

“Y-you’re the Pinniped?”

“Correct. I am the Pinniped. I belong to no one.” she said, glancing at her nails.

(That was a bold lie. She wasn’t Oswald’s property, and he wasn’t hers - but they belonged together, as partners in crime.)

“Naturally, I used to think otherwise.” she continued in a casual, friendly tone that scared Mori shitless. “I used to think I belong at his side, I used to think I belong in his heart, I used to think I’m lesser than him. I used to think so many foolish things.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” he said shakily.

“Don’t interrupt me, Mori. Anyway. The Penguin… This stupid, beaked bastard… Wronged me one time too many. And you know how the old saying goes - hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. He underestimated me. He thinks I belong with him. He thinks… He belongs in my heart.”

This time Mori didn’t say anything; he was listening attentively.

“He thinks I’m so, so blindly loyal, you see. He thinks I’m mindless and inert and docile, until he wants me to be aggressive. He thinks wrong. In fact, he does a lot of things wrong. He’s a lousy, self-centered lover… And an egomaniac, in love with the sound of his own voice.”

Those things were almost painful to say.

“He said some things he should have kept to himself - but no, he shared them with me… And now I’m willing to share them with you, to teach him a valuable lesson. Interested?”

“Yes.” Mori said in his most business-like voice. “Please. Continue.”

“The deal is simple: I know when and how Penguin wants to take you out.” she stated. “He hired the best of the best, someone you can’t afford… But luckily, I know someone who can offer more. The only problem is… You have something this person really, really wants.”

“Well?” Mori asked tensely, slightly leaning towards her. “What is it? My treasured jadeite? Secrets of the Waynes? My lucky dice?”

“Virago.” she replied lazily. “I am, naturally, talking about Oswald Cobblepot. He’s a man with many, many connections… And can buy your grim reaper out. Except… He doesn’t have a reason to want to do so. Show him some good will, Mori. Or not - and wait for the inevitable.”

She left Mori that night with something to think about; she played on his fear of death, she planted the seed of fear in his mind - and now the night of truth had came.

“I think it’ll work.” Charlie whispered back to Oswald. “Look at him. This is not a face of a happy man. This is a face of a man drinking his anxiety away. Sorry for calling you a lousy lover, by the way. You’re not lousy.”

“Yes, I think the sounds you make when we’re busy speak more than actual words. Did you ever hear yourself moaning? I should record it some day.”

“Record it all you want, but if you’ll play it to anyone… I’ll stab you.”

“That’s kind of hot. Care to dance?”

“Yes.” she said, before remembering about her rope. “Wait, no!”

But in response he only snickered.

“No taksies backsies.” he hummed, already leading her onto the floor. “Come on, my wife born of spring. Be strong.”

“You ass.” she muttered quietly as they danced and the warm tension started to build up in her body as a result of this maddening friction. “Why are you like that?”

“Several reasons.” he said nonchalantly. “One: I like when people actually ask for things they want from me. Two: being flustered suits you and I enjoy seeing you like this. Three: I’m an asshole, plain and simple.”

“Well, at least you’re self aware.” she breathed out, hiding her face in his arm. “Heads up. Mori’s walking towards us.”

“Mm. Will you be good when I leave you to make the deal?” he asked, gently raising her chin with his fingers; people were watching, as he leaned in and kissed her lightly, just before Mori tapped him on his shoulder and he turned around with a polite smile.

They disappeared for an hour or so; Charlie spent this time chatting about everything and nothing with Vicki and Louise. They didn’t as much as mention the conference incident; there was no need for it. Vale and her ambitions were an enigma of sorts for Charlie - but she decided some mysteries are better off unsolved. She didn’t need to know everything; she was alright with being just a piece of the puzzle, rather than the puzzlemaster.

Finally Mori and Oswald returned; Mori looked serene, while Oswald looked like a very satisfied, fat cat, barely containing his grin.

“Don’t worry about a thing, mister Mori.” Oswald assured him, wrapping his arm around Charlie’s waist. “Your problem’s as good as gone. Now, have you met my fair lady?”

“Didn’t have the pleasure.” Mori said, briefly glancing at Charlie, nodding slightly and returning his attention to Oswald. “You’re a good negotiator. You inherited your father’s blood.”

He bowed and left and Oswald followed him with his eyes, his polite, amused smile getting fainter and fainter and his eyes getting darker and darker. Charlie felt a shiver run down her spine; unimpressed Louise sipped her wine.

“I can’t say I’m going to miss him.” she said finally. “He did just sign his own death warrant, didn’t he?”

“He signed it many years ago, when he sided with Thomas Wayne.” Oswald corrected her calmly. “For a casino owner, Mori is ridiculously bad at foresight. Now, if you’ll excuse us…”

He didn’t say anything to Vicki, who also remained silent; they only looked at each other, as if simply being seen talking would be enough for Gotham to figure them out. It was nonsense; but Charlie decided to let Oswald have his oddities and little paranoias.

“Where are you taking me? Or rather us.” she corrected herself, raising her plush dog. “Not that I mind.”

“Oh, I thought we could use some alone time.” he said carelessly. “You know. Celebrate. And take advantage of how good you look, agapiméni mou.”

“Did you learn some Greek just to flirt with me while staying in character?” she asked, laughing quietly; he smiled with satisfaction.

“Yes, but unfortunately, ancient Greek was out of my reach… So don’t expect elaborate hymns.”

“So how did it go with Mori?”

“As for next week, I own this place. Meaning… Mori’s obsolete. I’ll take care of him eventually. Let him believe he’s under my protection.”

They found an empty side room, and before she knew it - his hands were under the fabric of her clothes and he was kissing her and his lips tasted like honeyed wine and she smiled, wondering if this is how Persephone felt after bidding farewell to Kore.

His hands were ice cold, and when he cupped her breasts she knew he’s doing it on purpose; cold was very effective against her and she writhed and mewled as he teased her, one of his hands pushing aside the rope and her underwear, his lips on her neck. The room was dangerously close to the main event, and the walls seemed paper thin; she had to cover her mouth with her hand as he was doing his magic with her body. The line between what she wanted from him and what he was going to give to her was but a gossamer thread; and he somehow always knew what to do to keep her from crossing.

“What are you going to do to Mori?” she whispered. “Tell me.”

“I’ll just make him disappear.” he whispered back, his fingers between her thighs. “And no one will ever know, and the only trace left will be blood on my hands… Maybe I’ll write my name with his blood on your skin. Maybe I’ll write a love poem. Roses are red, blood is red too, I’m bad at poetry, but I truly love you.”

Her laughter mixed with moans as she quickly covered her mouth again, her body shaking slightly. She was still laughing when they left the room, her body even more tense than before, her cheeks red and her eyes hazy; she could feel someone’s disapproving look on her, but she didn’t care enough to look around. Who was to stand between Hades and his queen? Even other gods weren’t brave enough to intervene.

They went home eventually, and she finally got what she wanted; she always did. He claimed he simply can’t say no to her, not when she looked at him like that and her voice sounded more like a breathy whimper; for some reason she never got tired of his theatrics and intricate plans, not when his touch made her feel like this. She loved him, plain and simple; and she told him that, over and over, as Gotham city was falling asleep and under his fingers her skin felt like fire and he sang her body electric.

*** Even though very few people knew the details of what was between them, everyone knew it’s as clear as day that Oswald Cobblepot and young woman living with him love each other; very few people knew just how bloody it was and how many dark parts his soul had and how much she loved every single one of them - but everyone saw the way they look at each other and get lost in each other’s eyes. Apparently it was heartwarming; Oswald was very determined to make Gotham ten times as much as it ever loved Bruce and his parents - and being seen as one part of a committed relationship, completely smitten with his partner certainly helped. Bruce Wayne had a reputation of a playboy, and a capricious and rather shallow one; Oswald Cobblepot was a charming gentleman - who only ever looked at one person in that special, soft way. He wasn’t above kissing a lady’s hand - but only in her case he’d look up and look her in the eye and smile.

And everyone ate that up. In fact - their very public, very fairytale-like relationship turned out to be so in sync with what the general public wanted it soon stopped being enough. People wanted more, expected more; and Oswald seemed to be very committed to the role he was playing.

(It wasn’t all entirely fake, naturally; he was charming and charismatic and intelligent. He simply didn’t want what’s best for the company - he wanted what’s best for himself.)

He dropped the bomb on her one evening, when they were alone; that day he seemed uncharacteristically anxious and she couldn’t figure out why. Everything seemed to be going fine - no one was even close to figuring out the Penguin, and Rumi Mori investigation hit a dead end.

(He did just what he planned, and Mori disappeared without a trace, leaving Oswald as the sole owner of the VIrago and Penguin as Gotham’s most reliable arms dealer.)

“Something’s eating you.” she said finally as they were in the kitchen; he was attempting to make churros and she watched. She liked watching him in the kitchen; he was a much better cook than her and watching him doing something as mundane as cooking was very entertaining, considering what kind of person he was.

“I guess you could say that, yes.” he muttered in response and she sighed.

“Oswald.” she said softly. “I’m fine with you keeping secrets from me, considering the way we first met, but it’s clear you have a problem. And I need you to remember - you’re not alone anymore. Talk to me.”

“There’s no need for grand speeches, really.” he said, not turning around. “And I trust you. I know you have my back, and I know you really left the Agency.”

(He checked, as he admitted some time ago; he had a highly skilled friend who found a backdoor access to the Agency database. Charlie was on the list of retired agents, with an annotation of being highly unreliable, unfit for the Agency and a potential person of interest; her database and requisition office access were revoked, and so were her license, ID and government-issued seal of immunity, protecting agents from getting in trouble with local law enforcements when on undercover missions. That was an undeniable proof of her really leaving this behind.)

“So, how do you want me to put it?” he asked, finally turning around. “Flowery prose? A statement plain and simple?”

“Don’t overdo it. Just tell me what’s up. I can take it, at this point I think I’m used to you and your revelations.”

“Have you noticed how my public persona is doing much, much better than Bruce ever did? I’m likeable, charming, popular… Everyone loves me, and the board is no exception. The board loves me… Of course, except for Regina.” he corrected himself, rolling his eyes. “She doesn’t trust me, but it’s alright, it’s mutual. Anyway. There had been some very subtle suggestions that I should make a certain PR move Bruce never did.”

“...go on.” she said carefully, trying to figure out what is he going to say next. “Though the list of things he never did is… Short. What are you expected to do, resurrect Martin Luther King? End world hunger? Travel back in time and stop Hitler?”

“Nothing of that magnitude, though I wouldn’t be so fast about getting number two off the table. No, the board suggested I should probably present myself as… Being more like my father, and less like Bruce.”

“...but are you talking about appearance, or-”

“No, Charlie, I’m talking about being engaged. The board wants me to get engaged.” he finally blurted out. “As a PR move, nothing more. You know. To present me as truly bringing back the good name of the Cobblepots.”

“Oh.” she said after a long moment, filled with heavy, tense silence. “Oh.”

“Oh.” he agreed. “Not quite what I expected when I was planning this thing.”

“Not quite what I expected when I was taking that assignment.”  she agreed. “Christ, I was supposed to bring you in, not help you take over Gotham and get engaged to you in the process. Somewhere in the afterlife… My father is very, very disappointed.”

“Wait. Does it mean… You’re on board?”

“Well, yeah.” she said with a shrug. “Believe it or not, but I’ve been engaged once. It didn’t end well, as you probably figured out from the fact I was single like a Pringle when we’ve met, but it already happened once. I can get engaged to you. Just as long as you don’t come home next month and announce it’s time for a wedding. I’m not… Big on actual marriage.”

Her nonchalance and this sudden verbal outburst were merely a facade, behind which her actual surprise was hidden; she wasn’t expecting that, not in a million years. Not even once she considered transforming their relationship along these lines - she was fine with its status quo. Engagement and marriage were merely legal formalities, unnecessary deadwood; she made her choice and she was making it every day, after waking up and before falling asleep. But she made her promise, of helping him any way she could; she couldn’t bail out now. Not only it’d ruin his plans - it’d probably also break his heart, which was much more fragile than he wanted the world to believe. His life wasn’t gentle with him; and she saw no reason to further add to his list of poorly repressed issues. Also, she loved him - she could bear some formalities, as long as it was for him. She could think of much worse people to get engaged to.

“Really?”

“Yes, Oswald, really. It’s a strong, definite yes from me. Plus it’s not even the weirdest thing you’d have me do for the sake of your plan. Remember, we’re staging a falling out between the Penguin and the Pinniped. I think I can bear walking around with a ring on my finger, as compared to going around and talking shit about you.”

“See, this is something I’m not getting. Why are you like that, Charlie? I know why I am like that - but you have no reason to be so on board with everything I do. So… Why?”

“Maybe I’m just as awful as you are.” she said with a shrug. “Maybe I don’t feel like coming up with elaborate plans on my own, so I’m fine with just following someone more decisive around. Maybe I just love you. Maybe it’s all of the above.”

“I’m fine with those options.” he said, sounding relieved. “So. Let’s get to planning.”

“Wait. Planning?”

“I’m Gotham’s precious crown jewel. We should do it the old fashioned way.”

“Just admit you want attention.”

“Love, everything I do is for attention. I’m a showman at heart.”

They did it the old fashioned way, and in style. He struck a deal with Gotham’s constantly stressed out mayor; Wayne Enterprises covered all expenses of renovating the Cobblepot Park, and in exchange Oswald for one afternoon got exclusive access to it. Only he and people from the super secret guest list were to be let inside; Charlie insisted on not doing it too publicly, lest it would attract the Agency’s attention. She was sure she has nothing to worry about - Penguin hadn’t been up to anything from outside his usual list of activities, meaning he was a nuisance at best and a moderate, local threat at worst - but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

She wondered if her Agency pals followed the Gotham news; she wondered what does Amanda Waller think when she turns on the TV and sees Oswald Cobblepot prospering and succeeding.

Officially Charlie had no input in planning the entire thing - unofficially she made the majority of decisions. She decided she wants it to be a casual brunch, with mimosas and pink wine and sweets from the bakery near the Peak.

It was a weird feeling - getting engaged to a criminal. Not something she expected to happen at any point in her life, but then again - neither she did with the deaths of her parents, joining the Agency, becoming a criminal herself. She kept telling herself it’s just a facade, an act, just a mere formality; she was ready to go to great lengths to help Oswald.

But still - it felt and sounded weird. Really, really weird.

And then the day had come and she played her part perfectly, the role of someone unsuspecting and oblivious. She acted like she believed it’s just a private reopening of the Cobblepot Park; infused with Oswald’s money, the park looked breathtaking and her amazement wasn’t fake.

And then the weirdest moment came; that thing she never planned, that thing she never thought would ever happen. He made a short speech - a love letter of sorts, a long and fake list of metaphors for everything they’ve done together. He told all those allegories and metaphors and half lies, talking about how she inspired him to be a better person and completely omitting her acceptance for everything dark and bloody about him.

He kneeled in front of her, because of course he did, after all they were doing it the old fashioned way. He pulled out the box, containing Esther’s engagement ring, slightly modified to fit her finger better.

He asked the question, looking her in the eye with that dark, mischiaevous spark she knew and loved so much, that glimmer that drew her in all those months ago.

“Will you marry me?”

That was definitely the weirdest moment of Charlie’s life - a wanted criminal she was an accomplice of, asking her to marry him in a PR stunt. And the weirdest part was - it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel entirely fake. She loved him for real and he loved her back - so she didn’t feel like a liar when she answered.

“Yes.”

Engagement was just a formality, just a PR stunt; she realized it suddenly and with full force as he was putting the ring on her finger. They didn’t need it. What they had was real, with or without the presence of a marriage officiant.

Her life took a weird turn; but she didn’t mind, she didn’t mind at all.

*** The sword of Damocles never fell; and somehow they kept on living. Gotham loved Oswald and Charlie and feared the Penguin and the Pinniped; the latter seemed to be on a warpath, after a dramatic fallout. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and hell hath no resentment like a man fooled - and those caught in the crossfire of their lover’s quarrel were very eager for a way out. And thus Oswald built his small empire, hidden in plain sight, right under everyone’s noses; and he was a skilled architect, and a very patient one. He also turned out to be a very good actor, despite Louise’s constant claims; only once he got even remotely close to getting in trouble - when someone accused him of secretly supporting the Penguin, who for some reason targeted those who wronged the Cobblepot family. Oswald came out clean - and in return sued the poor sod for libel. That’s just the kind of person he was.

Somehow Charlie knew this is the best possible world for them; the realization came to her one night, in her dreams. She opened her eyes and she was in his arms and his breath was on her skin and she remembered a voice, telling her - that this is as good as it gets for them.

They were on top of the world in that one. Life was good, even if they didn’t deserve it, even if their happiness was paid for with blood, even if they shouldn’t be what they became in the first place. Life was good.

Gotham never learned what hit it.

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Tel Aviv 2019: Straight outta Czech Republic to Eurovision with an unexpected geographical sight name

Another year, another Czech attempt at a national final that wasn’t televised also BUT this time we got some excitement announcements out of them - even if they were blatantly boring, kind of.

Keep in mind though that I know that the revamp's out, BUT this whole review is just me reviewing the version we all witnessed back when ESCZ hit. The one and only.

So the NF’s here because we saw Mikolas succeed from it the last time (eventhough it’s just a secret internal selection for just the Mikolas’s song and there’s no no denying hihihi), right? And thanks to that we got pseudo-official-but-not-so-official hotel music videos of each contestant’s songs just in case they decide to... like... change it for something different. Like those lyric videos last year. Eventhough they looked so very lowbudget this year, I still liked them to some degree, and eventually I had to witness this one video (set in presumably mostly the living room) where the lead singer confettis all over himself win this year (well not really the video as much as I only got to first hear that song on ESCRadio hahaha). Well, just the lead singer of it. As the buddies were on the other official video (the one I’ll talk about in my revamps update I guess but has anything changed other than the singer singing one of his talking parts?). As a whole the Czech entrants this year are known as Lake Malawi (it exists) and “Friend of a Friend” is their A-game! Let’s listen!

I liked it ever since my first acknowledgence(??) of it through ESCRadio. It reminded me of those happy-clappy 80s synth sounds (eventhough the 80s songs were mostly about gloom and doom), somehow somewhat mixed in with a bit of that ‘modern’ synthpop sound from the British music scene (Years & Years maybe? Nah that’d be too far-fetched). The lyrics, while cheap enough, at least paint a bit of a picture? I don’t think the person in the song was “making love” to his ‘old’ neighbouress back when she was 13, anyway. She’s, afterall, the “friend of a friend”. Who is a friend of a friend. Who is a friend of a friend. Who is a friend of a friend’s COUSIN~

The thing is that some songs out here are enjoyable besides their lyrical content. Or even without the singer’s background (still looking at those who’re shading Sheppard’s family business - shut up and enjoy “Geronimo” in peace, geez!). I, for example, jammed to RiRi’s “S&M” for my lifetime - yes, even since when it got big, and the pop music was being made to sound trashy, and not like something that sounds too somber and ‘foggy’, and with lyrics from r/im14andthisisdeep, and then later slapped on those a e s t h e t i c moodboards with tulips and liquid (of colour blue/red) splashed onto them to make it loof more effective, and placed in front of a yellow background on a white table. I miss late 2000s-early 2010s pop a whole lot, because at least it had fathomable-to-the-ear hits of the time - cheap, fast food, techno melodies with overproduction and lyrics that actually mean something more intimate and grotesque (with sometimes even hinting to the love surface) - that was the shit. Now it’s just drowsy stuff with blurry melodies and lamentings of lost love and devotion in an equally slurry, pathetic, vocal whine. I’m so tired of it. It’s unsettling. Get it off me. And thankfully, none of that invades this small little bubble of Eurovision’s just as of now (unlike the other pathetic musical cliche of nowadays that’s Soundcloud rap - ‘thanks’ a lot USNK). And I guess I shouldn’t be blessed that Lake Malawi brings this “this bangs but the lyrics are... a choice, but it still bangs so idc” back onto Eurovision? Like, come on, we all have had such kinds of songs like those all of that time. From “I Can’t Go On” (a man being a slut for love???) to countless of national final shlocks made by these usual suspects from rent-a-songwriter corner, ESPECIALLY in the 00s, to some of those actual 00s entries that made it - so stupid to sing along to, yet so infectious you can’t drag your earworm out of your ear canals just now. What does “Friend of a Friend” have for itself? Keyboard melody in the 2nd half of the chorus that is easily stuck in MY head, with a female voice (I assume it’s the song’s protagonist’s subject of speech - the neighbourina herself) reassuring that “[she’s] only [his] friend” - not in a “haha I’m friendzoning you forever >:)” way, but “ehhhh there’s truly nothing between us as he says, we’re just friends, not lovers, don’t give me that look” way. Sure it’s believable, sure. It might as well turn out that these neighbours are indeed doing the same thing as in all those local anecdotes where a family’s mother or father has an affair with a next-door neighbour for shits and giggles to move the joke’s plot forward.

So it is, as a whole, a fun little throwback-ish piece of fine and smooth music, accompanied with the lead singer’s ‘British’ ‘accent’ (aha so this is why I get a lot of British radio vibes from this - not to mention, tropical beach ones too for some reason!), some sort of spoken dialogue, energy and the ability to raise you up from your seat the 45875th time you’re actually giving in to all of this. You know you want to, despite this song possibly not being your cup of tea. But I see you, and I look forward to seeing you bopping to this fully in May, no matter if this isn’t Mikolas you’re dealing with anymore, and no camel spaghetti. Ahw yeah!

Approval factor: Although it’s also slowly wearing off me like it already wore off everyone else back then, I’m still giving it one hell of an approval. Yay!

Follow-up factor: I definitely like it more than “Lie to Me” as well. Somewhat. Honestly. Don’t bash me in secret.

Qualification factor: the naysayers are saying this will flop but imo they’re mostly just upset that Barbora didn’t go (even if they were only still upset back in the say), STILL. Ugh can’t they just leave. I am positive about this song’s chances somewhat, just hoping it gets a really memorable and stand out staging and maybe it will escape this hellhole of its semi. Not very confident, just positive. (Also they rocked the Vidbir stage so hard even the uncomfortable question queen Dramala couldn’t not give in the dance, lolz.)

NATIONAL FINAL BONUS

Honestly, the best possible thing that came out of this NF was the oh-so-unexpectedly-expected winner choice, and it is like this because, yet again, people couldn’t get over Barbora losing at first, to which I’m like “to be quite honest, you were all into it because that’s the closest thing to Lana del Rey you’d ever get in Eurovision because Lana herself is American and America should NOT set their foot into ESC... besides, she wouldn’t probably do it anyways”. ESCZ wasn’t pretty bad of a NF honestly:

• people actually laughed at the fact every single video of this NF is so low-budget that it looked like it was all filmed in the same hotel room! (in reality I’m just jealous at the slick-ass hotels they’ve had on there, feels like someone’s house more than a hotel actually)

• Pam Rabbit, one of Mikolas’s last year’s backings, brought the second-best NF song this year imo (Barbora for me is likeable but not to THAT degree, lol calm yer tits), as it was a lowkey bop and I can’t not appreciate one!

(her officially official MV is here but in the spirit of this NF’s, you’re gonna have to subject yourself to this above in order to witness spectacular budget-MVs that happened for this NF especially, come on. Hardly a cool NF without its own little perks!)

• Fine, I’ll bring up Barbora Mochowa too. I gotta say she DOES sound like Queen Bee Lana, same to say on her earlier works which, among them, has one enchanting and haunting forest-like ballad. “True Colors”, her ESCZ entry, is just a pop ballad, which is not THAT bad, it’s just that... did y’all see any more in that song beyond the Lana vocals? Sure sure the melody is pleasant but... did ya?

(Lord alive, she also has a live video for this song on her channel, which is in fact the ESCZ’s unplugged version video!)

• The ex-ESC entrant jury is back for another year! This time though, the votes of all of the participants in it were all up and public (unlike secrety mcsecret ones from 2018 where I’m not even sure if the Eurojury panel was correct), and most of them were #TeamMalawi or #TeamBarbora... up until AWS (yes AWS are relevant enough for their own panel!), being the “wait do we still have to do Eurovision related things??? it’s sooooo 1 year ago already, let us go goddammit!!” type of participants that they are, totally and utterly half-arsing their own experience in there by 12ing Andrea Holá. The thing is that she’s first alphabetically from the artists so that’s probably the best possible theory why. “GIVE ME A HINT, ANDREA!!!”

• The best part? The NF itself taking place in the second floor of an abandoned warehouse somewhere in Czech Republic (Czechia go to hell), in the middle of the day, with no live performances, just that video above played in full motion and some random people speaking in between. Silly of them to leak my ideal NF design location if I ever were a Lithuanian HoD. And yes, it was streamed on Facebook, the platform that I can barely play livestreams on my 11-year-old laptop on, while suspiciously enough, it worked for FiK 56... which meant that I was barely able to grasp a screenshot but I managed!

Well of course I didn’t get to watch much but after someone said Lake Malawi (or, in their words, Lake Malala <333) won, I almost believed it until I found out that the show’s still going... and only saw the thing on the projection screen later out of nowhere. IDK who’s hugging who and if that audience on the right are all the participants then I may have an idea but for now IDK. Ahh, relevant video media being projected on projection screens (duh) <33 giving San Marino, Albania’s Powerpoint scoreboards and Belgian 2013 radio NF runs for their money.

I might find mistakes and off-the-wall blabbers in this write-up later but for now I’ll carelessly submit this beauty to Tumblr today and wish the best of luck to Lake Malawi in Tel Aviv! May you qualify for the 2nd year in a row for CZ ^^

[suckitsurveys]

Are you currently wearing anything red? I have a tiny red bow on my underwear.

Have you had a deep conversation with anyone today? Nope.

What would you say is the most disgusting thing you’ve ever tasted? Capers.

What was the last food you got a random craving for? I don’t remember.

Has anyone/anything made you angry recently? Yes, always.

Who did you last go to the cinema with? My niece earlier this year to see Moana.

What was the last song that got stuck in your head? How Far I’ll Go from Moana is now stuck in my head thanks to the previous question haha.

When was the last time you listened to it? It’s been a while.

Who was the last person to say something thought-provoking? I have no idea.

On your Facebook friends list, who was the last person to have their b-day? My friend Mary’s birthday was yesterday. Also America’s.

How old were they? 37.

What did you/are you having for dinner tonight? I have no idea, I have to plan meals for the rest of the week at some point today.

Is your best friend in a relationship? Lydia and Sarah both are in relationships. Randal is not.

How old were you 5 years ago? 22/23.

What is something you enjoy doing, but aren’t good at? Singing, I guess.

Who was the last person you talked to, whose name started with ‘C’? The temp Creighton.

What colour are that person’s eyes? I have no idea.

Name some healthy foods that you enjoy eating. Veggies!

What is your favourite Studio Ghibli film? I guess Spirited Away.

Do you have a favourite hair accessory? What does it look like? Just good ol’ fashioned hair ties.

What’s your favourite type of insect? Lighting bugs.

What’s your LEAST favourite type of insect? Earwigs.

Who was the last person you Facebook messaged? Stephanie.

What’s his/her favourite food? I’m not sure. I’ll ask her next time I see her.

Did you have a good day yesterday? What did you do? Yes! We had a 4th of July bbq and ate a bunch of burgers and drank yummy drinks and jello shots and had a bonfire going and lit some sparklers and Stephanie’s friend brought actual fireworks and I got to light a couple!

When was the last time you went to a fancy dress party? I don’t know if I have ever been to a party you would call “fancy.”

Who/what did you dress as? ^

What genre was the last film you watched? Did you like it? Comedy, and yes.

Have you made a sandwich today? What did you put on it? I am actually going to make a sandwich for lunch. If sloppy joes count as sandwiches that is.

If your best friend was a fictional character, who would he/she be? Why? A mix of Gayle from Bob’s Burgers and Liz Lemon from 30 Rock. Because she’s basically both of them already.

Do you remember the last time you overheard part of a random conversation? I can overhear my coworkers talking in the other room.

Did it make you feel awkward? Nope.

What were you doing at 10 o'clock this morning? This, haha.

How many vowels are there in your first name? One, but it’s repeated twice.

What was the last song you listened to? Does it mean anything to you? No idea.

What flavour was the last cupcake you ate? Stephanie’s friend made brownies in a cupcake pan for the party yesterday. They were fudge with M&Ms in them.

When was the last time you complimented a stranger? I don’t remember.

What’s your favourite milkshake flavour? Vanilla.

Have you had an interesting or amusing dream recently? Eh.

Do you know how old your favourite actor is? She just turned 33 I believe.

Is there anything worrying you right now? Getting back on a healthy eating plan.

If so, have you talked to anyone about it? Mark. Is there anything you desperately want, that you can’t have? To lose 30lbs in like 2 weeks.

When will you next see your best friend? When Lydia comes back from vacation; when Sarah comes to Chicago/Wisconsin for my wedding celebration; when Randal is free again.

Apart from sleeping, what do you plan to do tonight? We have to go to dad’s to stay over with my grandmother for the next 10 days and I don’t want to fucking do that.

What’s the age difference between your parents? My father is older by 2 years.

You can only have one flavour of ice-cream for the rest of your life. Which do you choose? Butter pecan.

Are there any foods you’ve been craving, or eating a lot of, just recently? I’ve been eating so many burgers lately.

When was the last time you wanted to do something, but didn’t do it? I want to tell off my brother in law so bad.

Why did you choose not to do it? I have to work with him and I don’t want it to effect the relationship I have with my sister.

When was the last time you ate an apple? A couple of weeks ago.

What’s the nicest thing your best friend has ever said to you? They say a lot of nice things.

Have you ever experienced a hangover? Yes, currently. Oops.

What was the last food or drink that you tried for the first time? Some sort of Bosnian sausage yesterday, I forget the name of it.

Did you like it? I did! I was a little weary of it because it’s apparently made with veal, but I took one for the team and it was really good. I probably wouldn’t seek it out to eat on my own though.

What is your least favourite pizza topping? Pineapple. Fight me. Also I don’t like green peppers or onions on my pizza. But I do like all three of those things off pizza.

What do your friends think of the person you’re currently interested in? Everyone seems to love Mark and they all say he’s perfect for me. :)

Name one of your favourite foods, that starts with the letter ’S’. Salsa!

The last time you hung out with your sibling(s), what did you do? My sister came to my housewarming party a couple weeks ago.

Who was the last blue-eyed person you spoke to? Good question.

Is there a person you’d like to speak to right now? I wish Mark was awake to discus food with me.

Why that person, specifically? ^

When you woke up this morning, what was on your mind? I woke up at 4:30 with a bad tummy ache, so that.

At this moment, what are you most looking forward to? Weddinggggg.

Do you have any scented candles in your home? What scent(s)? I have a honeysuckle one in the kitchen and a vanilla one in the living room. We also have two wax burners that both have coconut in them

Are you planning any special outings with family or friends? Yes, in September my friends and family and I are going to the Dells to an indoor waterpark to celebrate me and Mark’s wedding.

Who were the last 3 males you talked to? Eric, Creighton, and Tony. Coworkers.

Do you ever wear lipstick? What colour(s) do you prefer? Nope.

If you have a pet, when did you last pet him/her? This morning when she crawled on me.

Do you have a favourite Celine Dion song? My Heart Will Go On, naturally.

Name one of your favourite foods, that starts with the letter ‘C’. Crab legs.

Does the person love/like have a car? What colour is it? Nope, he uses my car, which is silver.

Have you ever received a compliment on anything you’re wearing? On something currently? I get compliments on my Pusheen sweatshirt constantly.

Have you had any caffeinated beverages today? Yes, my green tea latte.

What was the last alcoholic drink you tried for the first time? A French Martini.

Did you like it? Yes I did.

Have you eaten any chocolate today? What kind? I have not.

The last person you kissed - are they older or younger than you? 5 years older.

When was the last time someone wanted you to do something, and you refused? I refuse to stop referring to my brother in law as a temp even though he asked me to because that’s what he fucking is.

What’s your favourite feature of the person you’re currently interested in? His face is nice. And his arms. And pretty much all of him.

How many people have you hugged today? 0.

Do you have a favourite hair colour or eye colour on your preferred sex? Nah.

Do you remember the first CD you ever bought? Tragic Kingdom from No Doubt.

Is there anyone on your mind atm? Nah.

The last song you listened to - does it remind you of anyone? Didn’t you ask this?

Is your birth year an odd or even number? Odd.

Have you eaten any of your favourite foods today? Nope.

What did you have for lunch yesterday? I didn’t have a legit lunch. I had some Chex mix and a bloody mary, haha.

Who was the last person you messaged on Facebook? What’s their sign? I’m not sure actually. She told me her birthday but I’m blanking. Maybe it says it on her Facebook. March 6th, which would make her a Pisces.

How many different towns/cities have you lived in? Just the one.

What are your parents’ middle names? Irvin and Kay.

Are your eyes the same colour as your sibling’s? Yes.

How many pets do you have? Would you like any more? One kitten. I would like 17 more kittens.

Do you prefer still or sparkling drinks? I don’t like sparking water, if that’s what you mean.

Is there a song you can’t stop listening to atm? Not really.

Did you have a strange or interesting dream last night? Is it just me or is they survey repeating a lot of questions? I may still be stuck on the survey I took before this one though.

Which friend do you confide in most? Ellen and Kayla, usually.

Who was the first male you talked to today? What colour are his eyes? This is definitely a few surveys smushed together, but oh well. <--Ahh, see I knew something was fishy with this survey.

Are you wearing any accessories in your hair? Describe them: Nope. I actually just took it out of a ponytail a minute ago.

When was the last time you felt ill? What was wrong? This morning, my stomach is feeling weird.

If given the chance, would you change anything that’s happened today? ^

Who was your first best friend? Do you still speak to that person? I guess some girl named Liz in grade school. I have her on facebook and we kinda still talk but not really.

Do you like your middle name, or does it embarrass you? I love my middle name. I think it’s super interesting.

Are you wearing anything that was given to you as a gift? My dad bought me this shirt in Arizona. And my engagement ring was technically a gift?

Have you received any compliments about your appearance today? Nope.

Have you ever written a song or poem for someone special? Nah.

Have you ever had an argument with the last person you text messaged? Nope.

What colour is your shampoo bottle? Clear.

Are you attracted to the last person you Facebook messaged? Nah. She’s cute but other than that, nothing.

Do you have any ice-cream in your freezer? What flavour is it? Nope.

Have you spoken to any of your neighbours today? Yeah, Stephanie is my neighbor and the person I mentioned two questions above.

[this-is-a-chat-astrophe]

Come Back To Me ch 4

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 || 5

AO3

“I told you,” Plagg says as Adrien unties Marinette with wobbly hands. Once she is free, he guides her to the couch and sits her down.

Marinette touches her waist gingerly; there is some slight pain.

“I’m sorry.” Adrien touches her waist and she jumps nearly off the couch, face burning red. Adrien feels awful; poor Marinette must be terrified.”You were possessed by an akuma. I had to tie you up so you wouldn’t attack me. Alya was there and I couldn’t risk her getting hurt so I brought you here.”

Marinette’s eyes widen, surprise and shame clear in her features. “Is she okay? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he assures her. “And Alya is….” he groans, remembering the situation in which he left Alya. “Hopefully exactly where I left her because she has your earrings, Marinette.”

Alarmed, Marinette tries to scoot back on the couch; she has already smashed herself into the back cushion as far as possible. “M-my earrings? What do they have t-to do with anything?”

Adrien sits down next to her and takes her hand in his. She doesn’t resist. “You were an akuma for five days. Alya and your parents found out pretty quick that you’re Ladybug when you disappeared and Ladybug didn’t come to the rescue.”

Marinette groans and pulls her hand away from Adrien to cradle her head. “Does anyone else know?”

“No.”

“And you’re really Chat?”

“Yes.”

“Can I get my cheese now?”

Adrien sighs but acts on the cats wishes, throwing him the whole container of cheese from his bag. He deserves it.

Marinette stares.

“This is Plagg,” Adrien says. He assumes she has her own kwami and doesn’t need a full explanation.

“It’s a little cat.” Marinette doesn’t know why she’s so surprised; as a ladybug themed superhero she has a ladybug kwami so why wouldn’t Chat have a cat? Though Plagg looks much more like a cat that Tikki does a ladybug. “He’s cute.”

Plagg makes a gagging noise at the comment and Adrien takes away his cheese. “Be nice or I won’t give it back.” Plagg groans but says nothing more so Adrien returns the cheese.

“Anyway, I should go back to Alya and make sure she’s safe.” Adrien pulls the photo from his pocket and shoes it to Marinette. “We still need you to purify this.”

Marinette blushes at the sight of the photo and the implication of it. It seems so silly, now, that she removed her earrings and got akumatized so unnecessarily. She should have known that Hawkmoth would still be around even after Chat Noir left, and she shouldn’t have been so reckless. “I’m sorry.”

Pale hands cup her face, silver ring gleaming. “Hey, look at me.” Marinette complies, meeting green eyes with blue. He smiles. “I’m so glad you’re back, my Lady.”

The phrase strikes a thought in Marinette. Adrien was in America; that started this debacle. What is he doing here?

“Did you come back just for this?”

Adrien blushes and scratches the back of his neck. The red clashes with his eyes. “I can’t seem to stay away, my Lady.”

She unconsciously rolls her eyes. This is her kitty, her partner, and she wouldn’t trade him for the world. But she knows their time is limited, and he will have to go back to America before his father notices, if he hasn’t noticed already. She puts her hands over his. “Let’s get this over with.”

Alya is not where Adrien left her, and he’s ashamed of himself for thinking she would listen and stay put. The reporter in her could never stay put when there’s a story on the loose.

“I’ll call her.”

Alya answered after a few rings. “Marinette! Is it you?”

Marinette laughed. “Yeah, it’s me. Anyway, where are you? Chat said he left you in my room but you’re not here.”

Some rustling noises and uncomfortable grumbles tip Marinette off that something is wrong. “What did you do?” Alya’s grumbles are too low and jumbled to hear, so Marinette repeats her question again, phone pressed close to her ear. “Alya, what did you do?”

“I only wanted to try them on!” she starts off, and from her frantic voice Marinette can imagine she is waving her arms. “I didn’t expect a magical girl transformation!”

The heroes freeze. She couldn’t have possibly done something so stupid….right?

“You didn’t.”

Silence.

Marinette sighs. She has never been more disappointed in her best friend. “You did. Just get back here and we’ll deal with it.”

It only takes a few minutes for Alya to bound her way back to Marinette’s bedroom. She drops through the roof hatch much like Marinette does after a long night of patrolling or particularly gruesome fight: lazily with sloppy coordination that lands her on the floor instead of the bed.

“Sheesh Marinette how do you do that all the time without dying?”

Alya knows she’s in serious trouble when Marinette greets her with a glare instead of an actual greeting. She bows her head and mumbles an apology.

The first thing Chat notices is that Ala’s Ladybug costume is different. Instead of a full-body polka-dotted suit, the hands and feet of the suit are black and streak up into the red of her forearms and calves. The next difference is the black belt on her waist, from the back of which flows two thin, gauzy wings. The biggest difference is the ink black mask on her face, a stark contrast to her auburn hair.

“I like the outfit,” Chat says, hoping maybe Marinette will calm down.

The comment only makes her seethe. How could Adrien say that in a situation like this? Sure, it was a well designed outfit that complimented Alya’s figure while seeming no less practical than her own suit, but she shouldn’t have a suit in the first place.

“Say ‘spots off.’”

Alya wants to keep the transformation awhile longer -she’s Ladybug, her idol!- but she knows she’s already overstepped her bounds. “Spots off.” In a flash of light the transformation faded and Alya reappeared clad in her characteristic plaid and jeans. She takes out the earrings and hands them out to Marinette. “I’m sorry Marinette. I just wanted to know what it’d be like to be Ladybug. She’s my idol! How could I give up that chance?”

She couldn’t give up that chance, Marinette understands, but she is still hurt. Alya could have put herself and everyone else in danger. What if Hawkmoth found out there was a new Ladybug? What if he could send out a second akuma? Alya has no clue what she’s doing- she may have seen every fight Marinette has gone through as Ladybug, either in person or on film, but that is galaxies away from having fighting experience. Marinette muses that Alya would have a lot more knowledge going into it that Marinette did thanks to her extensive research, but once again, research is not experience. And if Marinette is being honest, she doesn’t want to lose her place as Ladybug. Maybe one day, after they defeat Hawkmoth for good, she will have to forfeit the spotted suit, but until then she is proud to be the one and only Ladybug.

Marinette puts the earring in, speaks the magic words, reappears in a spotted suit after a fluorescent pink glow.

Chat Noir gives her the possessed photograph. She tears it open, straight down Adrien’s beautiful face. As she says more magic words she wonders if she will remember any of this; akuma victims never do. A white flash fixes the Agreste mansion gate and returns Marinette’s yellow ribbon to her desk. She stands there in the center of her room, Chat Noir standing on one side and Alya on the other. Her features are alert, but they also betray her underlying fear.

“What happened?”

Both Chat Noir and Alya stay silent. Neither wants the burden of explaining.

The earrings beep. Marinette reaches up, touches them gently, as if they don't belong there. She knows she is missing something, but she isn't sure she wants to know what. She asks them to leave. They put up a fight but eventually go when Tom and Sabine come up the stairs. Marinette doesn't hide or drop the transformation; she isn't ready to give it up yet. It feels so long since she last wore the suit, but why? Didn't she and Chat fight an akuma just two days before?

She hears her parents crying before she feels their tears on her shoulders. She doesn't know why they are crying, or why they are hugging her as Ladybug, or why they are calling her Marinette. She doesn't ask, she doesn't ask, she doesn't ask.

[fantasysuiteleague]

Week 5: Swamp Ass or Stank Face?

The main plot of this week’s episode is The Battle of the Bayou starring: Taylor, the calculating analytical elitist who knows what she’s talking about most of the time but comes off as unapproachable and rude as she constantly reminds us she has her Masters; and Corinne, the obnoxious narcissist whose every statement is so ridiculously and hilariously false you can’t tell if it’s all a strategic act or if she’s actually just a dumb, spoiled psychopath. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? We once again pick up in the middle of last week’s episode where Taylor is still trying to reason with an unreasonable fame whore, and said fame whore continues to be the absolute worst. 

Interestingly enough, none of the girls actually know what they’re fighting about and no one really cares. Even Alexis, the girl who allegedly wears a sumo suit to go to CVS just for kicks, thinks the two of them need to grow up because we’re not in high school anymore. Someone aptly points out that Corinne has done nothing to Taylor, and Taylor has done nothing to Corinne, yet here we are, watching them talk in circles about nothing. After firing off a few one-liners about Taylor’s stank face, Corinne takes it a step farther and tells Nick that she’s scared of Taylor because she’s not here for the right reasons and “that hurts her...for Nick.” Once she’s finished telling Nick all about Pizzagate and Taylor’s evil ways, Corinne is convinced that Taylor is going home and that she is “hashtag winning,” because nothing is more topical than a 5 year old Charlie Sheen quote. 

And if Corinne hadn’t started this drama Taylor might have actually gone home that night because Nick has never seemed interested in her, but it’s the 2-on-1 week so Taylor lives to see another day. Great.

The Next Bachelorette

After being made to suffer through almost an entire rose ceremony before actually getting her rose, Rachel is *blessed* with this week’s 1-on-1 date which actually seems fun compared to poor Raven who was stuck hanging out at fucking Bella’s soccer game. As they pal around New Orleans eating oysters and beignets, Nick preposterously claims that of all the girls in the house he has the “most explosive chemistry” with Rachel ...

After Nick and Rachel lead a Second Line through the streets of New Orleans, Rachel tells a a story about how the last time she was in NOLA she participated in a parade but it was for a funeral, which is when she decided to live her life to the fullest and...go on the Bachelor? This story, as well as the background on her intimidating federal judge of a father and how Rachel is not used to being vulnerable despite being very emotional (or something like that), serves as the perfect set up for Rachel to be the next Bachelorette. It’s a NO BRAINER at this point, and I’m 100% confident that this is what ABC was hoping for when they “cast” Rachel to be on the show. ABC really wants a diverse star to prove they don’t have a race problem, but she has to be likable (code: not too black), smart (code: have a real job), and beautiful. Coincidentally, Rachel has all of those characteristics and Nick seems into Rachel enough for her to make it to hometowns, leaving me with the hope that, maybe, just maybe, we’re finally going to have a Blachelorette.

Do you believe in ghosts?

The group date this week presents us with a chance to identify the women who say things like “the energy in this room” by taking the girls to the Houmas House, one of the most haunted houses in America that also happens to come with a full bar and a Norman Bates caretaker who goes by the name of Boo. Boo takes the girls on a tour of the old house that is apparently haunted by a young girl name Mae who gets real pissed when you fuck with her dolls. I can’t tell if it’s the fake painting of Mae or the fervor with which Boo demands that no one touch these dolls, but I’m 99% sure that these dolls all belong to Boo, and Mae never existed. A few minutes of research reveals that the house, also known as Burnside Plantation, once housed 750 slaves and was the center of the largest slave holding in Louisiana. 

So it’s pretty safe to say that if any ghosts actually haunted this plantation they wouldn’t be of a little girl worried about her goddamn dolls, but one of the countless slaves that lived and died in captivity. Curiously, nothing about slaves or the plantation are ever mentioned as Boo continues to make a big deal the girls not touching his dolls. 

Once the girls are forced to hang out alone with Nick after Boo takes his leave to try on some of his dead mother’s clothes, they play with an Ouijia board to distract from the crushing reality that they are all wasting their time (and losing money) while looking for love on this show.  And then coincidentally, after Jasmine the vocal non-believer of ghosts touches a statue, a chandelier falls and things start getting spooky! While the girls take turns playing Ghost Hunters, Nick has empty conversations with everyone except Raven*, who accidentally lets slip that she fell in love with Nick while he was rollerskating. This is dubious for many reasons, including the fact that she’s spent maybe 6 hours in total with Nick, and also, it’s Nick. But Raven seems pretty genuine and Nick very surprised, so I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Unfortunately for Raven, however, Nick and the producers already decided he needed to give the rose to the girl next door, neonatal nurse other video vixen, Danielle M., to reaffirm his intention to continue to string her along. I’m sure Boo was thrilled to see them leave so he could get back to his tea party.

Battle of the Bayou

And now, for the “main event” of the episode: the rumble in the jungle between Taylor and Corinne! In the blue corner, coming in hot with a Masters from Johns Hopkins and a “stank face on her face,” Taylor!! In the red corner, trying so desperately to make every in-camera interview into a gif, Corinne!! Throughout the episode both sides are given their chance to present their case to the Nation of Bachelor. According to Corinne, she is exactly what Nick needs and Taylor is a bitch who thinks shes better and smarter than everyone. According to Taylor, she has her Masters, is more qualified to be a wife, and Corinne is a lying manipulative clown. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

Once they reach the depths of the bayou, Nick and the girls are met by the best voodoo priestess ABC could find, Rachel Dolezal 2.0. I was hoping for either an old black blind woman or an Angela Basset type, but beggars can’t be choosers in the swamp I guess. They are soon directed to Ms. Cleo, who reads Taylor’s fortune first and warns her that it’s best not to engage with the evil spirits but to take the high road and rid herself of all this negativity. Now since Taylor has her Masters, she knows that when trolls go low, you go high, but that’s only the right call 71.4% of the time, or when you aren’t living in this alternate reality where nothing is real and everything is upside down. Unfortunately for Taylor, we’re in that alternate reality and even Ms. Cleo can sense what’s coming because the cards don’t lie.

And sure enough, as soon as Corinne gets Nick alone, she starts twisting the truth and painting a false narrative of Taylor as the aggressor and Corinne as the victim. Taylor tries ineffectively to reverse the damage Corinne has done with her fake news and alternative facts, but in this alternate upside down reality, alternative facts are the facts, and we know how this story ends. Instead of picking the girl who is at least a qualified and rationale choice for a wife, he picks the obnoxious train wreck who’s only doing this for fame. Even though I’ve been a Taylor Hater since Day 1, this move is preposterous, and everyone involved knows it. Even Nick is blushing with embarrassment as he and Corinne awkwardly climb back into their boat leaving Taylor to reassess her life choices and the meaning of the world alone in the woods. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

Did you notice . . .

** We don’t get to see this until the credits, but Nick’s conversation with Alexis on the group date, centering around her legitimate fear of Nicolas Cage, is amazing. WHY are they showing me clips of Danielle L. telling Nick she maybe is falling for him, or of Danielle M. barely talking at all, and putting these Alexis nuggets of gold at the end of the episode!?! The producers and editors really fucked this season up by not giving her more screen time because she is so much funnier and better in all respects than anything that comes out of Corinne’s mouth. #JUSTICEFORALEXIS 

“Realistically, I don’t see Nick and Corinne getting married at the end of this” is the understatement of the century. 

“If I see a ghost I’m gonna rebuke that thing in the name of Jesus.” 

Of course Danielle L. believes in and is afraid of ghosts. I actually LOLed when she said this date was going to be “a challenge” for her. 

“I had a great time. I did not squeal.” - Nick ....

The real loser in the Battle of the Bayou is Rachel, who is forced to spend an entire day alone in the house with Taylor and Corinne.

Nick is fucking terrible at being the Bachelor. I know I’ve gone on and on about how disingenuous he is, but it’s driving me nuts. Sure, every Bachelor has to say dumb shit like “From Bourbon Street to the Bayou, I can’t imagine a better place to fall in love.” but literally every single time he addresses the girls and in most of his 1-on-1 conversations it feels like he’s reciting Bachelor Canon because he couldn’t be bothered to think of anything real to say at any point along the way.

They say if you get close to the woods you can still hear Taylor whispering “but I have a Masters ...”

Minority Report: Interestingly enough, and despite the fact that they don’t appear to have any connection with Nick whatsoever, Jasmine and Jaimi are still around. I know this is cynical, but between Nick’s lazy approach and coziness with the producers, it feels like he agreed to make sure a few black girls stuck around long enough until the producers / Bachelor Nation could pick one they liked and move forward with the whole Blachelorette campaign. Now I know what you’re thinking: c’mon Jen, that’s racist. Well ... so is The Bachelor.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[bachelorbro-blog1]

Season 21 -- Week 4

Is it just me or did this week’s episode feel like the longest episode in the history of this franchise? I don’t know, maybe I’m just already over this season.

We open with Corinne sleeping. At this point I’m pretty sure she has narcolepsy.

The other ladies are shit talking her, which is nothing new. Moving forward...it’s almost time for the rose ceremony. Nick approaches the girls and lets them know that he’s so glad they’ve allowed themselves to open up around him (except for the ones whose names he doesn't know -- I’m looking at you, Whitney).

Taylor and Sarah ambush Corinne while she’s sleeping and tell her that she needs to calm down with the bouncy castles and bouncy chest. “I am not privileged in any way, shape, or form,” says Corinne, a 24-year-old woman who has a live-in nanny.

Time for the rose ceremony! Everyone (including Chris Harrison) is discussing Corinne and how she needs to go home immediately. “Girls are haters,” says Corinne.Then she makes a fart sound with her mouth.

Christen explains that she feels that she’s further along emotionally with Nick than some of the other girls. She is promptly eliminated. (As is Brittany, a girl who I only remember as the one who was really amped about sports). Alexis, a perfect person, gets a rose. Alexis, if you’re reading this, I would very much like for us to be friends. 

When Corinne gets a rose, Josephine’s jaw drops. Taylor shit talks her in a talking head interview. “I thought Nick was looking for a mature, adult partner,” says Taylor, who is 23 years old. 

Christen cries near a fountain. Brittany explains that she used to make fun of girls for crying on the show and then bursts into tears while waving her hands near her face so as not to let the tears fall. 

Corinne licks a rose, grabs her chest, and almost falls out of her chair. She is absolutely the girl that you would find at a frat party asking people if they had seen her friend (who was not in attendance at said party in the first place).

Taylor is slowly, but surely, becoming this season’s second villain, much like Alex became the Lefou to Chad’s Gaston last season. 

“Pack your bags,” says Chris Harrison. The girls cheer. “You’re going to Wisconsin,” he adds. There is less cheering. 

The ladies arrive at a mansion in Wisconsin, a sentence I never thought I’d write. Nick’s mom and dad give a talking head interview. His mom looks like Kate Gosselin at a rock concert. I am not entirely convinced Nick’s dad isn't just Nick wearing special effects makeup. “We don't want to see you on the show again,” says Nick’s dad. “I agree,” says everyone in America.

Welcome to Waukesha, the place where the Slender Man stabbing took place three years ago. Danielle L. gets a solo date and Nick leaves the rest of the women in a park. They have nothing else to do so I assume they’re going to plot against Corinne back at their Wisconsin mansion.

Nick and Danielle L. decorate the scariest cookies I have ever seen in my entire life. Danielle’s fake laugh is awkward so Nick kisses her to make her stop. That somehow makes everything even more awkward than it already was. Cool.

Oh my gosh! It’s Nick’s ex in a coffee shop. She just happened to be there, already mic’d. How weird! “This is so trippy,” says Nick. “Oh, so this bitch gets to be on the show?” screams Liz, from her couch.

Nick continues to tell Danielle L. about every girl he’s ever had sex with, which is a perfectly normal thing to do on your first date with someone. They finally end up at dinner at the fanciest restaurant in Wisconsin. Nick is wearing a jacket that matches the exact couch they’re sitting on. He asks Danielle L. to talk about her flaws, which is also a perfectly normal thing to do on a first date. Danielle L.’s parents are divorced and she thinks that makes it harder for her to open up to people. 

The next group date is announced. “Say cheese,” says Danielle M. Please, please tell me they’re going to be making cheese pasta. Please. Raven gets the one-on-one date. She is excited that Corinne won’t be getting any private time with Nick this week. 

Danielle L. gets a rose, unsurprisingly. Nick announces that he has a surprise for her, and they end up at a Chris Lane concert. I don’t know who Chris Lane is. I am 100% sure that Danielle L. also doesn't know who he is, but she plays along while visions of engagement rings and messy tabloid breakups dance in her head. 

Every contestant who isn't Danielle L. or Raven winds up on a group date at a farm. There are baby cows everywhere. I am crying. Most of the ladies are ready to get down and dirty even if they don't particularly love shoveling poop or milking cows. Of course, Corinne is not interested in taking part unless Raquel can do her chores for her. 

Everyone is shoveling poop. Corinne says poop about 50 times and then declares that this is probably the worst date she's ever been on. I really, really don’t believe that. She sits outside and cries while the rest of the women make poop-related jokes at her expense. 

Corinne says “poopie” more than a few times. She has effectively made sure that everyone is aware of the fact that she has the mental and emotional maturity of a 6 year old. 

Kristina mentions that she’s had a rough life, but doesn't delve into any of that just yet. She kisses Nick for the first (?) time. Astrid is tired of talking about Corinne, but America isn't. Corinne makes a corn metaphor or something. I don’t actually know what’s going on.

Vanessa gives Nick a book made by her coworkers and students. She is 100% the winner. The end. We can stop the season right here and just go into the next season of The Bachelorette, starring Rachel, who is important and does not need to be wasting her time with Nick. 

“If I did anything, come to me,” says Corinne. Every girl immediately comes to her and then she throws a tantrum. She rattles off a list of people who have taken naps in their lives, including Michael Jordan and Abraham Lincoln. I’m not sure what kind of comparison she’s trying to make. I am officially done with her. 

Kristina, in the surprise throw down of the season, calls Corinne out. “I’m not stupid. I choose to handle things head on and you hide away,” she says. I would very much like more screen time for Kristina. 

“We’re fighting for a fiancé, not a...pickle,” says Corinne. Something tells me she was sick the day her fourth grade teacher taught the class about metaphors and similes. 

This horrible date is finally over, and it’s time for Raven’s one-on-one. She meets Nick’s little sister, Mia Hamm, as well as his parents. “What kind of name is Raven?” asks Nick’s father, as if he has never seen That’s So Raven. 

Josephine is effectively becoming the Daniel to Corinne’s Chad. I’m not sure why. Taylor H A T E S Corinne. She is going to drown her in the bath tub that she’s pretending is a hot tub. 

Nick and Raven end up at a roller-skating rink, which actually looks like a lot of fun. Raven and Bella are having a private conversation while Nick skates around in the background, hoping to impress his second, third, and fourth wives. “I really want another sister-in-law,” says Bella. 

Anyway, Nick and Raven go to the Milwaukee Art Museum and have a very private dinner in a very large, very white room. Raven reveals that she is the inspiration behind Carrie Underwood’s classic “Before He Cheats.” She walked in on her boyfriend and some other girl having sex and then bashed his head in with the girl’s stiletto. I am officially obsessed with Raven. If there is any footage of this historic event, please send it my way. Nick gets a weird boner while Raven weaves her epic tale. She gets a rose. 

Taylor expresses her desire to kick Corinne in the face. Corinne has similar feelings about Taylor. They are going to fight to the death, but not this week, as there are only about 15 minutes left. 

Danielle L., who has a rose, pulls Nick aside anyway, which is a power move. Taylor does not appreciate any other women making power moves. She yanks Nick away from her and proceeds to lick his mouth. 

Corinne and Josephine eat pigs in a blanket, drink wine, and talk shit (i.e. exactly my kind of party). 

Corinne and Taylor finally get to throw down (they sit near a fire under a blanket). For the first time this season I am on Team Corinne, not because I like her, but because Taylor feels that she has the right to speak down to everyone in the house. Remember when she said she had no friends as a kid? I think we’ve found the reason for that. Next week they’re going to have a two-on-one date. Taylor will go home. Bye.

After the previews, perfect Alexis lets us know that she is afraid of Nicolas Cage and that she thinks Raven might be an alien. Please keep her, ABC. She makes me so very happy.

My top 5:

1. Vanessa

2. Danielle M.

3. Raven

4. Rachel

5. Alexis 

[oajpw5f3-blog]

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