#could be the divorce but I want it to tie into his sense of justice lol

[quotidianish]

That one comparison of young Chilchuck with light in his eyes vs deadeyed middle aged Chilchuck got me thinking about why he’s so jaded, here are my headcanons!

[shrinkthisviolet]

Beth Chapel, Amanda LaRusso, Joe West

Beth Chapel:

(Note that this is about DCTV Beth Chapel, because I haven’t read comics)

Beth Chapel is an absolute sweetheart and incredibly smart!! I love her so, so much!! Though...something I don’t see a lot of people talking about is how much she really needs therapy?? Like...Beth acts so much like an adult in s1, clearly so self-sufficient and seeming to take care of her parents more than they take care of her...and maybe it’s just me, but I wonder if they’ll ever address that??

I also think it’s a large part of why she latches on to Chuck. Yes, it’s about friendship, but even after she has the JSA...she really, really misses Chuck. Because Chuck was more than a friend for her...Chuck was someone who looked out for her and was there for her, and I really wonder if he was (at least in part) filling the parent-shaped hole in Beth’s heart. Because her parents clearly love her so much!! They do!! But...I can’t be the only one who thought they were on the verge of a divorce during s1, because they seldom talked to each other, and they were always busy, and Beth seemed so used to that...

Just...idk. Get this girl some therapy in s3 please...and let her and her parents have a real heart-to-heart about how maybe she felt forced to grow up too fast or rely on herself more than anyone else

Amanda LaRusso:

Amanda...oh boy. Okay. So...I’ve said something to the effect of her being one of the best characters on CK, and the moral center/level head, etc. When she says something, I’m on her side about it...usually.

I’ve made no secret about my gripes about s4, and Amanda’s characterization is definitely a major reason for that. Mostly because Amanda reminds me a lot of my own mom, and seeing how she acted in s4 really struck a nerve.

Like...okay. The show wanted to give Tory a redemption/regret arc. Totally fine with that, and it fits with her character - in s3, she regretted the school fight, so naturally in s4, she’d regret the home invasion (why tf she actually DID the home invasion is another thing but I’ve complained about Tory’s ooc writing before). And they wanted to tie it to Amanda. Okay, that could be an interesting angle.

However. The way they went about it is absolutely baffling. Amanda, at the start of s4, is fully intent on seeing Tory delivered justice. Which makes sense with who she is as a character and how she is as a mom. But then...she meets Kreese in a grocery store and Kreese is like “hey Tory has a bad home life, consider treating her better.” And then Amanda just...does??

Like?? What?? This is the man who tried to kill your husband, sent his kids after your daughter and her kids (who then broke Demetri’s arm and traumatized Sam), whom you slapped for doing that...but now suddenly he says “Tory has a bad home life”...and you believe him??

And it’s not even just that. Not only does Amanda believe him...she also immediately throws all negative feelings about Tory out the window. Because apparently a bad home life means all harm ever done is immediately negated. So much for the interesting internal struggle of “she has a bad home life but she still hurt my daughter.” Guess that was too much for the writers.

More to the point...this shouldn’t have been Kreese’s role. It should’ve been Robby’s. Robby is in a relationship with Tory, and he and Amanda are presumably on good terms (and they’ve had this talk before, about their pasts not defining them)!! The setup was there!! Have Robby appeal to Amanda on Tory’s behalf, have Tory scoff and try to put up a front...have Amanda be reluctant and still dislike Tory but agree to help her anyway...have her soften towards this girl who reminds her of herself.

But also...do not have her tell Sam that she needs to forgive Tory when Tory hasn’t even apologized. Absolutely not. Tbh, I would’ve liked to see this arc with Sam, with her having the inner conflict of “she has a bad home life but also she hurt me”...but if it has to be Amanda, she can’t force Sam to forgive Tory. Not her place.

Basically, I loved her in the first three seasons, and I’ll always write her with nuance...but wow did s4 tank my opinion of her (she isn’t the only one, to be fair)

Joe West:

...oh man could I go on a rant about Joe.

Let’s start with the most obvious grievance that everyone and their mother has been talking about: Armageddon!! The sheer audacity of this man to yell at Barry and Iris for (finally!! After years of letting him go!!) agreeing to let Thawne die (not kill him, btw. Let him die, as a result of his own actions)!! The audacity!! This is the same man who shot Harry within a second of meeting him, rightfully on guard because Harry could’ve been Thawne!!

Also let’s not forget that Joe’s lecture comes after Thawne tells Barry that he’ll continue trying to kill him if he gets free. Thawne is that arrogant, that he’s fully truthful about his intentions and still expecting Team Flash to do what he wants and let him go free...and they did it?? It’s baffling. Thanks, Joe. I hope you know that the entire bs s8 finale arc is your fault (including that godawful black suit...wtf was that)

But now let’s rewind. Because...I’ve been rewatching s1, and it strikes me just how much Joe is restrictive of his *checks notes* 25-year-old daughter?? Like...Iris is presumably an adult when she applies to the police academy...he shoots her down with a cold shoulder. A cold shoulder! Not a sit-down-and-let-me-explain-why, not anything...just a cold shoulder until Iris withdraws. Even on E2 this was the case!!

And then with everyone knowing Barry was the Flash except Iris?? Including Iris’s fiancé?? Come on now 💀 Come on, Joe. Your daughter is an adult!! Let her make her own decisions!! Let her in on things!!

(also...they couldn’t dissuade Iris from writing her blog...yet they still didn’t let her in on the Flash stuff?? Remember how she was literally kidnapped for her blog?? Barry, Joe, Eddie…did none of y’all think that maybe letting her in on Barry being the Flash would allow her to be more prepared to defend herself against threats?? Y’all could’ve given her the Flash alert early too!!)

I don’t even have an opinion on him per se, just frustration

send me a character (or multiple) and I’ll fill out the bingo!

[bravescribbles]

The Downfall:Power Couple Pt. 8

What would you do for the person you loved?

The Downfall pt1

In the hospital after the complicated labor and surgery 

Mari does wake up and but is groggy , just kinda squeezes whatever is in her hand and that happens to be Damians hand who bolts awake

“Habibi you’re awake! Thank Ra’s you’re awake..I was so worried about you!”

She interupts to ask about the baby, did the baby survive, where is her baby

“I’m so sorry my Angel, you lost a lot of blood and the doctors could only save one and I chose you.” Damian reaches out for her hand but she takes it back with a look of betrayal.

She has no reaction and that’s what scares Damian the most. She does not say anything but simply requests that he calls the doctor in and leaves the room. Damian protests, stating that she is his wife and he will be there to hear whatever the incompetent doctor has to say. At this, she throws a vase at his head that he dodges but the sound grabs the attention of doctors and nurses nearby. 

“Leave. I detest the sight of you. You took away my hope for the future of a family.” Her voice has the tiniest bit of sorrow but her eyes speak of pure anger

After the doctor comes in and tells her that though the baby may have passed “once you and your husband are ready,there is always the possibility of trying aga…..” The doctor saw the murderous glare in her eyes and simply called for a nurse to ready the discharge papers. 

2 years later

Marinette turns into a different person after that. Her public persona becomes Killer Ice Queen of the Fashion Industry and her marriage with Damian is strained to put it at best. Those who caused the accident were brought to justice and that was the last friendly public appearance from the two. 

Any fashion shows or high-studded events were always cold with each other as it looked like in the photos. Neither smiled or held each other in a physical sense though any rumors about affairs or divorce were immediately shot down just with a look. Any mention of the name Wayne was a surefire way to have that particular magazine trashed. 

Though behind closed doors endless wars were fought with words and swords as the couple sparred to the first draw of blood to see if their marriage was salvageable. It always ended in a tie. Insults, threats and rumors of infidelity were carelessly thrown around used as a distraction to gain the upper-hand. Divorce is never used as both parties know that divorce is worse than death in the eyes of the League but there were rumors floating among the members of why their leader has been so unhappy and why has it been so long since the Queen has stepped foot on the hideout...

Who had their leaders become? One is ruthless dictator worse than his grandfather, the other is a ghost of legends of a supposed happier time

Damian had no mercy towards his enemies and his business became more shady by the day. His wife no longer spared him a second of her time and he was never going to ask. His training became brutal with sparring partners simply not lasting anymore, those who were brought in for questioning of allegiance or loyalty came in and never came out. Females looking to take the Queen’s place are desperate for any attention but Damian simply replies that the Queen will return but he says that more for himself than anything else. 

Marinette seeks for power. Both in her professional life, she made Audrey B. look like a child when it came to anything in fashion, even Gabriel Agreste was a softy compared to the Killer Queen of MDC. All her interview request are denied and no one has seen the mogul publicly since her pregnancy announcement. Even her few friends have a hard time reaching her, all her employees fear the sound of heels clacking down the hallway in case their boss wants to thrash the studio for the third that week. Her rotating carousel of assistants are horrified seeing their boss stuck in the studio throwing countless bolts of fabric across the room because ‘the fabric wasn’t right’ even though everyone knows the boss handpicks the fabric herself. 

 Though in her precious down time , Marinette is seeking a way to create her lost child. She is turning into HawkMoth, the same person she spent 4 years fighting against and proclaiming to Paris that she and Bugman would protect until their dying breath. This realization startles her once it finally hits her but she now understands the longing for a perfect family and her morals have all turned dark in order for her goals. 

Though first she needs her miraculous back. When Hawkmoth was defeated when she was 16, she gave back her ring because she knew it was dangerous to combine the Lazarus pits and any sort of magic but now….

So here’s this one. Umm By the looks of it, it might be an even 10 parts long just so it can be an even number and its not terrible for me to put in a masters list. Please comment, like and reblog. Let me know what you think and I’ll see ya next time

Taglist

@lenamau @fandomfan @vixen-uchiha @vanillacoffee-bean @the-fusionist, @naimena @maribat-2k20girl23 @myazael  @winter-gardenflower @zestyzealot @moonlightstar64 @crazylittlemunchkin @dreamkitty25, @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @alexzandria-747, @damianette-is-life 

[hollyoaksloversx]

Back From The Dead: Round Two.

Rounding up a week in Hollyoaks (21st-25th May 2018)

It’s time for another weekly round up and what a week it’s been. After being pronounced dead last week, Sienna turned up alive and well, ready for a showdown with murderous daughter, Nico (who was thought to have died in a fire two years ago) on the hospital roof. As Sienna fought Nico for baby Sebastian, who should interrupt them but kiddie snatcher, Warren Fox, who himself was also thought to have met a fiery end a few years back. His stay in the village was brief and he ended up doing a runner with Sebastian, leaving Sienna with only pregnant fugitive, Nico, for company. As if that wasn’t enough drama for one week, we were also treated to delightful scenes of Glenn shooting his son dead and Tony getting electrocuted by a blender. By the end of the week, my face resembled that of Zara Phillips watching an American preacher at a Royal wedding...

The drama unfolded as the McQueen’s and Joel prepared for Sienna’s funeral, and it’s safe to say that Myra showed far more emotion about the demise than she did when three of her own children died. The preparations were soon interrupted by Josh, who informed them that they were going to use the funeral as an opportunity to catch Nico and that little Sebastian would hopefully act as catnip to the psychotic teenager. However, with Sebastian feeling unwell, Myra refused to let him attend and he remained at home with Sally, who ended up rushing him to A&E for reasons unknown (she seemed to go from “he needs to sleep” to “he needs to get to A&E” faster than Nana McQueen charging towards a buffet). Unfortunately, when Sally carelessly took her eyes of the baby, Nico snatched him and headed to the roof, where she was met by Sienna. It didn’t really make sense why she went up there given that she could have just gone back out the door she had just come through, but a rooftop is a far more exciting place for a showdown than the road outside the hospital, I suppose.

Sienna admitted that her death had been faked in a bid to catch Nico and begged her daughter to hand over Sebastian and turn herself in. However, Nico had a trick up her sleeve (or under her jacket) as she revealed that she was pregnant and so couldn’t possibly go to prison. As Sienna tried to process the news, she was interrupted by Warren, who offered her the chance to leave the village with him and be reunited with Sophie. The fact that he renamed her ‘Katy’ before he left the village last year was nothing but a distant memory. With Nico pulling her in one direction, and Warren the other, Sienna was left torn but ultimately, the pull of her non-psychotic daughter was too strong and she chose Warren, leaving Nico raging. As Nico lunged at her Mother, Warren made off with Sebastian, admitting that the whole thing had been a ploy to get his son back. 

Back at The Dog, the mourners were enjoying the wake, with Nancy, Darren and Tom partaking in a little game as they recalled all of the crazy things Sienna had done. Just then, the woman herself burst in, begging for help to track down Warren and Sebastian. Joel in particular was furious with Sienna and clearly does not process the brain cells to understand that her faking her death had been organised by the police, as he ranted at her for what she had done. With no one believing Sienna’s claims, she returned to her flat to find Nico waiting for her. The pair hatched a plan to leave the village together and Sienna soon found the perfect way to fund their getaway when she discovered that Darren and Mandy had been having an affair. Not wanting their respective partners to find out, Mandy and Darren reluctantly handed over cash meant for the restaurant, leaving Nancy furious when she realised it had gone. However, Nancy was soon distracted when she received a letter from Fran, the woman who had killed her sister, Becca, asking to meet.

Meanwhile, Glenn was furious when he discovered that someone had tipped the police off about an impending job and quickly decided that the culprit must have been Zack. Wanting to teach him a lesson, Glenn took the rather extreme decision to kill him and ordered Adam to help. Of course, we know that Adam is the grass and he was determined to keep his secret whilst also ensuring that Zack stayed alive. Not an easy task by any means but Adam soon saw his opportunity when he offered to do the deed whilst Glenn checked on the van. Running into the woods with his hostage, Adam let Zack go free but, just as he prepared to fire his gun into the air, Glenn interrupted, and was so angry with his son that he killed him. 

As the only police offer in Hollyoaks still alive, Roxy was tasked with investigating the death, and her first job was to break the news to Adam’s devastated family, whilst also trying to keep her own emotions in check. Grace immediately suspected that her Brother’s death was related to the job he and Glenn had been planning, but Glenn made her feel bad about the suggestion and insisted that he had nothing to do with it. One person who wasn’t convinced was Maxine and she accused Glenn of killing Adam. With Roxy also baying for Glenn’s blood, she tried to get Maxine to pick up where Adam had left off and gave her a listening device to plant in Glenn’s office. Unfortunately, Glenn caught her and knew straight away what she was up to. With Maxine determined to do anything possible to bring Glenn to justice, he knew he had to get her back on side quickly and so told her he had a brain aneurism and was dying. Although initially skeptical, Maxine soon appeared to believe him and told Roxy that she was no longer willing to help her. I bet Glenn’s not really dying. We’re not that lucky.

In other news this week, Alfie’s mental state continued to cause concern when he convinced himself that he was about to be reunited with Jade. Alfie was angry when Yasmine interrupted the ‘reunion’ but the voice in his head told him to be nice to her so she wouldn’t get suspicious. Also this week, Luke took a peek at Mandy’s messages and was devastated to discover that she was cheating on him. However, when confronted, she refused to reveal who it was with. Finally, there were arguments in the Hutchinson household as Tony and Diane couldn’t agree on whether or not to tell Tegan about Dee Dee’s illness. Dee Dee was left upset when she saw her parents arguing and punished them by asking for Scott to stay with her in hospital that night instead. There was soon happier news for the family when a phone call from Scott informed them that Dee Dee was responding well to her new treatment. 

5 Things We Learnt This Week:

1. Never take your eyes of a baby in the A&E of Dee Valley Hospital. They’ll be gone in a flash and nobody will have seen a thing. 

2. Tom’s black tie has gone missing. Which is most odd. You’d think that, given the amount of times he’s had to wear it, he’d just keep it on his person at all times, ready for the next funeral. 

3. Milkshakes make everything better. Except when the blender you’re trying to make one in blows up. 

4. Tony once bought Mandy a fax machine for Christmas. How romantic.

5. Divorce parties are a thing now and you can have one at The Hutch. Well, you’ve got to cash in where you can!

Characters Featured:

Adam, Cleo, Courtney, Darren, Dee Dee, Diane, DS Roxy Cassidy, Glenn, Grace, Jack, Jesse, Joel, Kim, Leela, Luke, Mandy, Maxine, Minnie, Myra, Nancy, Nico, Sally, Sebastian, Sienna, Simone, Tom, Tony, Warren, Yasmine and Zack. 

Past Characters Mentioned:

Jade Albright, Patrick Blake, Ben Bradley, Carley Bradley, Tracey Donovan, Becca Dean, Katy Fox, Neeta Kaur, Andy Morgan, Sue Morgan, Dodger Savage, Will Savage, Darcy Wilde.

[its-love-u-asshole]

Stars and Stitches [fic]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Kei has never been crazy about going out on Valentine's Day, and he and his boyfriend know how dangerous it can be on top of that. Instead, he'd much rather stay in for his celebrations, and he's glad Tetsurou is now on the same page. 

Rating: T

Warnings: mild swearing, some making out bc you know the drill

Note: Hello! I made it in time for Valentine’s Day lol. This is my gift for @momomirasaki124​ for the @hqvalentineexchange​ <3 I tried to incorporate most of your prompts, so I really hope you enjoy ; ; Big thanks to @emeraldwaves​ for reading this over! 

AO3

The sounds someone should hear in the morning are easy enough to guess...

The muffled sounds of traffic, a few birds chirping, and maybe some dulled footsteps from the sidewalk just outside. All of it together marks the beginning of a new, work filled day, which Kei would rather not think about.

Today is different at least.

What Kei hears is different too, and the sounds automatically make his mornings better than most people's. His alarm has become the distinct crack of Tetsurou's back as he stretches to get up.

It happens so often, Kei can now expect it, count on it. If a morning comes without the three little pops of Tetsurou's spine, then can it really be a new day? Not in his book.

He's happy they've reached the age where Tetsurou has stopped going on business trips so much. Mornings are way less dread filled these days.

"Ah fuckin shit," Tetsurou curses, one of the only few times Kei gets to hear him curse, because the other is far too much of a goody goody for that. Kei cherishes it.

It's a constant now. Like Kei spilling sauce on his shirt at dinner, or Tetsurou stubbing his toe at the end of the bed. Routines are hard to break.

He snorts as Tetsurou touches his lower back out of shock, as if this doesn't happen every damn day.

And, like clockwork, Kei delivers his line: "Quit whining old man."

It's his favorite, because Tetsurou is far from old in his book, and looks about ten years younger than he is. It's unfair. But while Kei may look like an older man, Tetsurou is the one who's beginning to complain like one.

"I don't know if we should order that, it looks sort of spicy doesn't it?"

"Kei, that's way past our bedtime."

"Can you believe the neighbors let their yard look like that?"

And fuck it, Kei laughs harder, especially when Tetsurou finally looks at him.

Tetsurou turns to him, eyes beady from sleep, his brain still working out how to distinguish shapes instead of blobs. Not like he needs much cognitive power to deal with his little shit of a husband, which he'll probably realize in .2 seconds. The raven's hair is as much a mess as it ever was, except now some of the hairs are more of a dull gray than a sleek black. Doesn't really bug Kei much. He still pulls on it, whether they're having sex or when Tetsurou clogs up the DVR with sci-fi movies.

Tetsurou complains about how he's probably going to go bald at sixty because of Kei. Kei pulls harder.

Wigs are a thing.

They have their little staring contest for another few seconds before Kei regrets his decisions. In response to his smug little grin, Tetsurou unleashes a new tactic, one Kei simply cannot overcome.

Tetsurou farts.

Yup like a twelve-year old.

It's loud too, and Kei's not about to stick around for the smell. They'd had a big dinner the night before.

What a fool he'd been.

Tetsurou just lets one rip right into their newly washed bedspread and Kei may not be a big athlete anymore, but the speed at which he jumps out of bed is unrivaled. His knees buckle because Kei never stopped being a baby giraffe in some sense, and he topples over, his brain not awake enough to communicate to his legs that uh hey, you guys can walk you know?

"I want a divorce," Kei mutters, staying on the floor because why not? It's fun down here.

Tetsurou gasps, leaning over the bed cautiously so that his face is peeking down at Kei. The image is almost cute enough for Kei to forgive him. Almost. "On Valentine's Day? That's a bit cruel isn't it babe?"

Kei throws a pillow at him, and since they're not above this kind of retributive justice, a war ensues. Kei always insists on having a shitload of pillows on their bed, though half of them end up on the floor and Tetsurou ends up only using two, but it's for the aesthetic™ okay?

Also, Kei likes having a good supply of weaponry. Some of these are back support pillows. They can kill, and he knows it.

The fun ends when Tetsurou stubs his toe on the edge of the bed again, and Kei doesn't care about counting it as a cease fire. He fuckin' won, bitch.

Tetsurou ends up running ten minutes behind because Kei has to break out the first-aid kit and make sure he didn't break something, and then he's scrambling to get ready, avoiding the bed at all costs.

Meanwhile, Kei plops himself down on their couch and listens to Tetsurou drop nearly every bottle in their bathroom. He clicks on the television, sipping his coffee leisurely and humming because Tetsurou finally remembered to buy his preferred brand from the store.

He hears Tetsurou curse from the kitchen this time, and yeah, that...that was a mug he'd just heard.

Yeah, working from home is a blessing. He'd clean the shards up later.

Kei has more pressing issues at the moment, like the fact Tetsurou fucking clogged up the DVR again.

Defiantly, Kei erases one, but just one. If something seems amiss, then Tetsurou will come for his cooking shows and he cannot miss who goes home this week. They're three episodes away from the finale, it's a crucial time.

He changes the channel to some stereotypical romance flick just to provide background noise, and remembers what Tetsurou had said earlier.

Valentine's Day.

It's not like Kei had forgotten, how could he? It's like the holiday threw up on anything within an infinite mile radius. Pink hearts, red streamers, cute cards and flower bouquets littered every grocery store he passed. There were ads on T.V. too, not to mention the influx of romance films and the public displays of affection he'd been forced to witness on the street ever since February 1st.

Yeah, so it's Valentine's Day. What a shock.

Kei hardly hates the holiday though, and not just for the candy clearance sale the day after.

A few seconds later, Kei is broken from his thoughts by a wet, sloppy kiss hitting his cheek, and he's not proud of it, but he yelps. Tetsurou is smirking at him, and screw it, Kei's revenge meter is all out of juice for now. He leans forward, catching Tetsurou's lips greedily.

He can feel the wetness on his cheek still, and he wipes it off, making Tetsurou laugh against his mouth. Asshole.

But Kei's smiling like an idiot.

Kei's breath still stinks too, he's almost positive, so that's payback enough.

Not like it ever matters.

Soon enough Tetsurou is wetting Kei's dry lips with his tongue, and the innocent kiss develops the potential to get too steamy too fast.

The last thing they need is Tetsurou's office knowing his husband gave him a boner first thing in the morning.

Or maybe they do.

Fuck 'em.

Kei clumsily sets his coffee down on the table, knowing a few drops sloshed out onto the sides but not really caring about the stickiness as he moves into Tetsurou's lap. Large, rough hands take their reserved place on his hips, rubbing circles in the exposed skin lazily. Kei moans, letting his tongue tangle with his husband's, and just because he can't help it, he tugs on his black strands, messaging Tetsurou's scalp.

From the way Tetsurou groans at the treatment, they know it's too much for a goodbye kiss. At least on a work day.

"Save it for tonight stardust," Tetsurou practically purrs, and Kei's so used to the nickname by now he overlooks it altogether. He does plan to save it for tonight actually.

"Don't be too tired when you get home then," Kei whispers, delivering one last peck to Tetsurou's lips before he climbs off of him. Tetsurou is at least twenty minutes late now.

"How dare you, since when do I get tired?" Tetsurou says, getting up to stretch lazily. It's not really a question they have to answer, not when they'd recently started knocking out before eleven. Their college selves would be ashamed.

Kei leans back, admiring shamelessly as Tetsurou fixes his tie. He's allowed okay? Fifteen years gives him permission to do mostly anything. Tetsurou's not as cut and carved as he used to be, but he's still the envy of all their neighbors, not to mention eye candy for plenty of them.

Tetsurou's the ultimate image of someone who aged well and looked happy doing so, walking out of the house in his slacks and button up like he didn't realize how admired he was. Kei's sure he does though, he just doesn't really care unless Kei's the one doing the admiring.

Yup, that's right. Kei married the neighborhood hottie, his mom would be so proud.

Tetsurou preens from the attention Kei gives him, leaning down lift Kei's chin and give it an affectionate squeeze. "Take out for dinner?"

Kei snorts. Duh. "It's Valentine's Day, isn't it?"

Tetsurou grins, and already, Kei can't wait for him to come home.

Their Valentine's Day traditions have changed throughout the years, but the holiday refuses to let go of at least some of its spark. When they were in college, they'd actually gone out, fighting for reservations at nice restaurants, going to new movies, or sometimes even doing the stupidest things imaginable...

Now though, Kei's patience for the crowds and the stress was even more thin, and his expectations for a romantic night out were simpler, more private.

Basically, Valentine's Day had become one of the few nights of the year where they elected to do nothing. Nothing.

No cleaning, no cooking, no worrying about meeting up with friends or scheduling home improvements, just...nothing. They ordered food, the most unhealthy sort Kei could think of, and spent the hours together, watching shitty movies and reminiscing.

It's cheesy, he knows. But he doesn't mind that anymore either. It's so cheesy, and he loves it. He loves Tetsurou.

It's the perfect way to spend a night in his mind.

Over the years, Valentine's Day fills him less with butterflies, and more of a calm nostalgia. A comfort, a warmth.

Kind of like Tetsurou himself. Kei smiles; he knows the feeling is mutual.

That's one thing he does appreciate about getting older. The confidence in his partner, the content which comes with the smallest things. The need to pretend or hide is long gone, chipped away at throughout the years until it ceased to exist.

When he was younger, he'd always wondered if he'd ever get to point like this, how it all would feel...

He guesses this is what it's like. He finally knows the answer, grinning as he watches Tetsurou trip over his own feet as he races out the door to work.

This is fifty.

--

When they're twenty-four, they're not as enlightened.

"Kuroo, please stop," Kei pleads, and yes, he really does plead. As above freaking out as he usually is, this is ridiculous. His voice is a high-pitched whisper, and his shoulders are tense, looking every which way in search of a possible security guard or serial killer (anything could happen alright?) coming for them.

"Relax babe, we can do this no problem," Tetsurou shrugs him off, tying his old sports jacket around his waist and eyeing the chain link fence in front of them. At first glance, it doesn't look so tall, but Kei has his doubts.

In the distance, he can hear the crowd cheering as the opening act of a concert takes to the stage. He really does like this band...maybe--oh my god no!

Kei reaches forward as Tetsurou touches the fence, about to start his climb, grabbing his hands instead. This is a bad idea and they both know it. Tetsurou only blinks at him, torn between pleased and confused that they're touching, and Kei can't help it, he blushes despite his annoyance.

He keeps their hands locked together though.

"We're too old for this, you're not exactly eighteen anymore," Kei scolds, and he winces, the backpack he has on suddenly bothering him. They'd stuffed a good amount of beer in it earlier, hoping to have a romantic night at the concert.

Problem is, they're broke bitches, so actually buying tickets to said concert wasn't a possibility. Tetsurou had been so confident about finding a way in though, Kei had simply rolled with it.

How dumb of an idea could Tetsurou possibly conjure up?

That's what he'd thought. To this day, Kei doesn't know why he keeps testing fate.

Maybe it's because with Tetsurou, he doesn't need much convincing that things will work out. And really, they always have, just not always in the way he anticipates.

Tetsurou grins at him, kissing Kei's knuckles softly as he laughs. "Psh, you make it sound like I've got liver spots already, it's just a fence. We'll be over it no time..."

Tetsurou's voice climbs in pitch, playfully egging Kei on as he scoots closer, but Kei sees through it, and won't let the control slip so easily from his grasp.

Kei huffs, dodging Tetsurou's kiss to his lips. It takes more willpower than he'd like to admit. "Okay, what about this: I'm not eighteen anymore. Are you trying to kill me?"

He's not joking either. Kei wouldn't call himself a complete klutz, but he's not exactly Mr. Elegance. He can't even stand on one foot for too long, and his boyfriend wants him to hop a fucking fence?

If they get caught sneaking in with a crap ton of beer (assuming they make it over the fence without eating shit), they're dead, and Kei would rather not make that call to his parents to bail him out.

Tetsurou just laughs, the sound sudden and downright hideous, but Kei loves it anyways. "Stardust, you look as young and beautiful as the day I first saw you..."

"We're going to end up in the ER again," Kei deadpans, refusing to let the nickname get to him. It causes him to blush up to his ears, and even in the dark, he's sure Tetsurou can tell, but it's fine.

Compliments will get him nowhere.

Tetsurou slumps against Kei, a full body pout, and Kei can't help but laugh, pushing him in vain. Damn, Tetsurou is heavy.

"Hey stop--ah! Stop!" Kei pleads, his voice a whisper in between broken giggles. His legs are giving, and screw it, he just lets Tetsurou fall on top of him. Grass stains be damned, he is not losing this battle.

They end up wrestling for a bit, the grass soft and inviting, before Tetsurou pins him there, always better when it comes to contests of brute strength.

I'll get him back later. Kei never fails to.

Kei's laughter comes in short, fading bursts, his lungs fighting to catch up. Tetsurou's hands frame his face, and looking up, he can see the night sky is serving as the raven's own personal backdrop.

There's a lot of stars out, he notices, and for a moment, he wonders if it's really fair that Tetsurou gives Kei all the celestial nicknames. They seem far better suited to him, especially when those golden eyes are shining as bright as the stars above, focused solely on Kei.

Kei's own, personal galaxy, wrapped up in one person.

Ugh, listen to yourself. Shut up.

Tetsurou's rubbing off on him, and he's not a fan.

Rather than stew in his embarrassment, he meets Tetsurou's lips halfway, and the raven pauses just briefly, as if asking permission. It's almost a tease too, with how Tetsurou's breath tickles Kei's face from how close they are, the hesitation too considerate and too maddening all at once.

Kei grants the wish, and the kiss sends sparks through him, all the way down to his toes as he melts against his boyfriend.

It's short, because they're out in the open and Tetsurou knows how Kei is about their privacy, but that doesn't stop him from quickly rubbing their noses together before he finally pulls back.

Dork.

Tetsurou sighs, staring down at Kei fondly, and the blond thinks maybe now they can just skip all this and go home. After all, it's Valentines' Day, and the concert is probably on T.V. anyhow.

However, when has Tetsurou ever conceded so easily?

"Well, thanks for that, now I feel like I could climb two fences," Tetsurou says triumphantly, and Kei's smile instantly falls as his boyfriend smirks. "Maybe even a whole mountain."

"I'm leaving you." Kei gets up, but he doesn't go anywhere. He's all bark and no bite, sadly.

"Yes yes," Tetsurou says, because goddammit, he knows Kei's ass isn't going anywhere either, and turns back to eye the fence. "Now, back to business."

"Why are you like this?"

"I just like proving you wrong baby," Tetsurou says, putting one of his feet into an opening in the fence. Oh my god you're serious aren't you? Fucking...

"I highly doubt I'll be proved wrong," Kei says, already taking his phone out in case he needs to call someone. That, and part of him really does worry about his boyfriend's safety, and he'd rather not actively watch the climb. On the off chance Tetsurou actually gets over the fence, Kei notes, the raven will never let him forget it, so it's a losing situation all around for him.

Tetsurou turns to him, his hands and feet now locked into his starting position, and gives him one last dazzling grin. "Watch and learn."

And oh, Kei learns.

He learns that damn, he should be a motherfucking psychic with how good he predicted this shit.

They end up in the ER about half an hour later, but Kei's not really as concerned as he'd feared. In fact, he's starting to get bored. He knows it's bad, but the 'hehe I was right' potential behind this whole night has him giddy, and he can only hope he and Tetsurou stay together for the rest of their lives, just so he always has a chance to bring it up.

They hadn't gotten caught by anyone, but Tetsurou had lost his footing on the fence halfway to the top, and ended up with a deep gash on his thigh. After the initial freakout of driving them to the hospital and signing Tetsurou in, only to find the injury was an easy fix, he calmed down.

Three hours of waiting room scrabble and twelve stitches later, Tetsurou is signing out at the front desk about ten feet from him. Kei sits in the overly stiff waiting room chairs, ready to get up and help his boyfriend limp to the car. No excessive activity for a week and a half. Those are the doctor's orders, and Kei plans to enforce them, strictly.

This night has been a stressful one, but at least it was winding down.

Now, Kei only wants to go home and relax, maybe curl up with Tetsurou and watch the missed concert on pay-per-view and nurse his boyfriend's hurt ego.

The night is still young.

Plus, he can see the slight guilt in Tetsurou's eyes, the damn romantic. As if this could possibly ruin Valentine's Day. Hell, this is the best Valentine's Day Kei has had so far.

And the holiday would only get better, if the both of them were involved, no matter how stupid the shenanigans.

Tetsurou smiles sheepishly at him as he turns from the desk, and Kei shakes his head fondly, standing to allow Tetsurou to use him as his own personal crutch.

As heavy as Tetsurou is, Kei doesn't mind the weight.

Tetsurou groans a little from the pain as they walk through the parking lot, and when there's no one in sight, Kei allows himself to reach up and kiss the corner of Tetsurou's mouth.

"You know, maybe next year, we should stay home and order takeout," Kei suggests, his smile smug, and Tetsurou kisses it right off.

The raven sighs, but looks about as happy as Kei feels, despite the stitches in his leg. "You know what stardust, you might just be onto something."

--

Kei smiles at the memory, sipping wine from the mug Tetsurou bought him for his 50th birthday (because he's classy like that, and who needs wine glasses?).

He has his feet in Tetsurou's lap, and he's eating directly from the box of fried rice they ordered, because Tetsurou prefers pan fried noodles anyways, so they just order their own sides.

Kei is laughing so hard he fears he might choke, and with a pout, Tetsurou throws a spring roll at him.

"Hey! If you get crumbs on the couch, you're cleaning it," Kei protests, eating the spring roll because fuck no you're not getting it back now.

"You tell this story every year," Tetsurou groans, but he's laughing just as hard. "When will you give it a rest?"

"When it stops being funny, which will be never," Kei says with a shrug, because it is the most obvious thing in the world at this point. He likes to call that ER episode the most memorable Valentine's Day they've ever had, but he'd rather not have a repeat.

No, he'd been right all those years ago.

Sitting here in pajamas and fighting over what movie to watch, eating foods that'll go straight to his thighs...

This is his kind of Valentine's Day.

Doesn't mean he can't remember their younger ones fondly though, as stupid as they were.

And judging from the way Tetsurou is looking at him, like their back lying in the grass all over again, Kei knows he feels exactly the same.

"Guess I'll have to endure then," the raven says, pulling Kei into his arms, and he doesn't sound the least bit upset about it. "Happy Valentine's Day."

And yeah, Kei thinks, it most definitely is.

[fakesurprise]

Just Another Day

He doesn’t turn out to be what I expected. As a rule, magicians don’t, but there are stories about the wandering magician. That he is the only magician not tied to a town or city I knew, and that every magician fears or respects him. But he is ordinary, like the cops who went plainclothes. Give him a suit and tie and you’d never notice him at all.

I have no idea what he thinks when he looks me over. He is calm, but behind the calm is a wall. “Officer Ramirez.”

“Julio.” I hold out a hand, he shakes it.

“I understand the local police want someone to spend a day with me, know more about the subtle parts of the world. And that Lance was involved.”

I nod. “I’ve heard of him.”

Lance Christensen. The police officer who could show up at any department, who worked at all of them and none. He solves the kind of crimes that never make official books, and the ones that no one talked about at all.

“Do you have a name?” I ask to fill the silence.

The magician chuckles. “I do. I don’t use it often, because people can find my family through me. Mostly I get called the wandering magician, or Honcho.”

“Honcho.” He nods, adds nothing. “I’m not sure how this is meant to work; do I go with you, or you with me?”

“With me might work better; we’ll be walking.”

We walk for a good two hours Houston Falls isn’t much of a town, barely thirteen hundred people, and the magicians walk is more a slow stroll from the centre outward. He pauses a few times, frowns a couple of others, but otherwise just makes small talk with me, nods to locals. Many of them nod back without thinking about it. We find a small diner at the outskirt of the town for lunch.

He answers his phone once. “Jay,” he says, not looking even though it was a generic ringtone. There is a pause. “No, I have no idea if the god inside Charlie can chew through bed rails. Is there any particular reason to ask this? No? Ah. Carry on, then.” He texts someone after, putting his phone away and continuing to eat his sandwich.

“This is a test?”

“Pardon?”

“We walked around. That was it.”

“I try and help places with magic before doing other things.” He sips his coffee. “Knowing the lay of a place is important. Magic changes things: to change something without understanding it is, at best,  a risk. So I took the time to get a feel for this place. For things that might need help, for what is wrong, or feels wrong but isn’t. Humans are complicated, and the same applies to places humans make. You’ve had dealings with magicians.”

I nod. “Some of them I’d rather forget.”

“I imagine so. The problem with being the magician of a place – which I am not, in the sense that other magicians are – is a question of size as much as information. There are limits to what one can do in a situation that one is deeply part of. Even magic – perhaps especially that – doesn’t allow magicians that kind of freedom.” He stands. “Shall we continue?”

I bite back a reply and follow him. The walk back is the same, a circling inward, though this time the magician walks faster. He pauses to look at buildings every so often, and then just keeps walking.

“You’re doing magic.”

He glances back at me and nods.

“Am I’m meant to learn anything?”

“Here.” He holds out his left hand.

I take it, half against my will. The last house we passed was typical Houston Falls suburbia, not that the town has much urbia to speak of. Two floors, four bedrooms, no garbage, no fence, cheap siding, in need of a paint job. And anger, Boiling through one bedroom into the rest of the home, felt more than seen. A killing rage, but a helpless one too that diminishes moments later, Pulled away, gathering into the magician with casual calm.

I blink, and the world looks normal again as the magician lets go of my fingers. “You – who – what?”

“Divorce, fury at a stepfather for replacing her father. Some of the hate is earned. Most is not, or at least not at that level. But children learn much about stepparents from the media, and stepfathers are treated as even more incompetent than fathers in general. Tensions flare up, boil over. I stopped it from happening, at least a little bit. Gave everyone space to find perspective. Two doors down, there is a roof  that needs to be fixed, so it is now borrowing strength from a dying tree. You were expecting something... more?”

“I have heard stories about you.”

“I have some impressive things. And foolish ones,” he adds dryly. “Often when I have no choice, or someone tries to push me back against a wall. But this is the core of what I try and be: helping others, not being noticed. Walking in the world of small miracles. That anger was one person in a house, Julio Ramirez. There were things under it I gave gentle nudges to as well.”

“And that’s it?” I try and keep my voice even, but I doubt I succeed.

The wandering magician merely keeps walking. I don’t ask to see any more. I don’t know how he’s carrying that much anger from one person easily, never mind anything else. But part of me doesn’t want to know: too much understanding can be weakness. He veers off path, finally, heading to a small park we somehow managed to mostly avoid while walking the entire damn town. The part has a sandpit and two sets of swings, a few trees, ill-kept grass. One set of swings is old and rusted, with one family using them. They seem subdued for a mother and two children playing on swings, but the other set draws my attention. The swings are closer to trees no one has made a fort in, and oddly pristine. No one is using it, the grass high around it. Whoever mows the park avoids this area, and no one presses them about it.

The magician walks over to the new set of swings. I follow. Nothing feels odd, or strange. There’s no unnatural chill to the air, no whispering voices without bodies. But even so, I find myself slowing as I get closer, wanting to move away without knowing why. I keep moving. Being stubborn is a power all its own, at least sometimes.

“Ah.” The magician holds up his right hand, pressing in into the air between both swings on the set, The air ripples in the way water does, ugly colours spilling forth from the touch. Every hair on my body stands up on end. “You are hungry, yes, but this is not a place to sate your hunger,” the magician says, and his voice has the authority you expect in leaders but almost never see.

The hole ripples. I think something speaks, but not in words.

The magician presses his hand against it, and the hole is gone. The air becomes only air. “This is what magicians are,” he says softly, without power I think, but his voice fills the silence with a compelling calm. “We close the weak places of the world. We stop Entities from getting inside. And if they do, we find them and banish them again. This is being a magician, Officer Ramirez. The magic is a small, small part of that. A bonus, a thank you from the universe for aiding it.

“You see terrible things in the world every day, and you wonder why magicians have not prevented them. This is what we prevent, this is what we heal. We deal with what people can’t, and give them space to deal with what they can.”

“You think –.”

He turns. This time it is swift and hard and I step back even faster than I did from whatever was at the swings. I reach for my gun, only realizing I am when the magician lets out a sigh. “I don’t think. I know. People can deal with terrible things, Julio, and most people have the fortune of being stronger than they ever have to know they are. You see a magician, and you see someone with power, but that is how people see the police as well. And I know how little my power truly means, at the end of the day. I also know what it could be, if I let myself be swayed by the moment.”

“You don’t understand what I saw,” I say, and my voice is cold even to my ears.

“No. But I was in the town of Raven’s Bluff when it was wiped off the map,” he says mildly. “I know who did it. I even know how. But if I had destroyed them, it would have taken the entire global economy down with them. I gave them very good reasons to never do that again, and we brokered a cease-fire. I could have done other things. I have access to that options other magicians don’t. In the end, I saved the town but no one inside it. And every day I live with that, and many other things as well.”

“Karstwood Bay.”

“I have been there. The town was just large enough for a magician. Who died.”

“I killed her.”

“I imagine that’s one reason Lance wanted you here. He is Justice, and it has no room for mercy. He thinks I have more of it than I believe I do.”

He doesn’t do anything. He could force me to speak. Pull truth out of me. He just waits. “She – Kim Li, was her name – let a serial killer murder an entire family.”

“I learned that after the fact. Your gun.”

“What?”

“You may need it.”

And there is the mother and her two children from other swing set, walking toward us. Nothing is right about them, and the children move too fast. They have claws, and teeth, and other things as well.

“No,” the magician says. Nothing else, but all of them stop. Too close, too fast, too no longer hiding themselves.

“We hunt,” the hiss, their voice one being speaking together. “Hunt down the monsters who hide as humans, and this one killed us.”

“He did.” The magician’s gaze flicks over to me. “This is Azuneh. They have other names, of course, but they are from Outside the universe. And hunt down Outsiders who sneak into the universe and take places over. One person, then a family, and then they spread. And once they spread far enough, they open a way that should not be opened. Azuneh was killing such a hive, and you killed Azuneh. And the magician who was making sure Azuneh made no error and that the other homes had not been affected.”

“We called you, magician, with our bodies dying.”

“And I came, and made sure the hive was dealt with. That was just another day for me, Julio. So is this one. You didn’t know you were doing anything wrong, and magicians can make mistakes like any other human can. Azuneh made mistakes as well.”

“We did not!”

The magician turns his gaze on them, and the children and mother step back. “A magician died because of you; I consider that, at the least, carelessness. The hive was about to grow, you panicked. As did Julio, for reasons that make far more sense.”

“What happens now?” I ask, and my voice is almost even.

“This is another day. All days are, if we let them. Azuneh has other monsters to destroy, and help in doing them might be more effective if aid came from someone who understand law enforcement rather than magic. Magicians don’t walk in the same world as other people; it is not always a benefit.”

The entity hisses. The adult looks displeased, the children not as much. “Did you have three bodies in Karstwood Bay?” I ask.

“Two. One died getting into the house. We were – in a hurry,” is admitted.

“And you didn’t think about what would happen to the person you were inside after you left?”

Six eyes blink in surprise. “No?”

The magician pulls a phone from a pocket and hands it to me. “If you need to get hold of me, call Jay on this phone. He always answers, and his phone is always on.”

“What?”

“I have the rest of this town to finish helping,” he says gently. “I imagine the two of you can work things out without me?”

I look at Azuneh. We don’t like each other. I doubt we ever would. “I don’t want this kind of power.”

“If you did, this would never have been on the table,” the magician says with a smile, and walks away.

“We are not yours; we are not bound to you,” Azuneh hisses softly.

“I have no idea what you mean by that. But I do know that you need help, or you’re going to hurt a lot more people than you help. Do these – ah, children and their mother – is there a father? Another mother?”

“Father, yes.”

“And what does he think of you?”

“We should know?”

I take a deep breath. “Let’s find out,” I say, and follow something I can’t even begin to explain out of the park. It might be just another day, but that doesn’t mean it has to be like all the others. And I’m pretty sure it won’t be, not ever again.

[adalcs]

with great excitement and not so much honor i (re)introduce you a d a l a  c e r n y — resident activist & copyrighted the phrase ‘spread hummus not hate’. okay but serious business — hello there ! my name’s dallas & i am eighteen, and am from the netherlands. i love dogs, i love football, i love watermelon and i love any roleplay shenanigans. send me pictures of your pets ?1!? if you’d like to plot, talk, send me pictures of your pets, you could either like this post or message me at any time. it’s free, it’s a good offer js.

without further ado, meet adala cerny. your resident activist, environmentalist, feminist, metalhead and hummus addict. endlessly notorious for her bare face except for when she claims to wear lipstick as wair paint, making everyone vegan brownies, handing you out flyers to local protests and urging you to go green.

born and raised in portland, oregon, the only parental figure she had in her life —ever— was her mother. she grew up as the child of divorced parents. she barely remembers a time they were together & the marriage was pretty much doomed since the minute she was born, or at least that is somewhat what she assumes ? she stayed with her mother in portland while her father moved to new york city, to kickstart his business.

the reason he left was pretty much clear ; he was an absolute asshole, if you were to ask adala. daddy issues, you may ask ? well um , perhaps. adala had been more of an accident than anything, her parents weren’t too young but lacked maturity or the true desire for parenthood. they did decide to have the baby, as soon as they figured out they were pregnant. her father having a steady job, they were supposedly going to be fine, but everything turned to shit as soon as adala was actually born. her dad became more & more neglectful, not only in funds but also presence, and this perfect family they were supposedly creating was just nowhere to be found anymore. it was when adala was around two that the bomb truly exploded, resulting in her dad leaving to nyc and leaving them both behind in oregon.

long story short, they moved out of their family home into an apartment in the city center of portland where they lived their new lives together. it was just a two bedroom, small and tucked away in the back of some apartment building in the city, but they managed. they didn’t go without trouble at all, but they never went hungry, had a roof over their heads and they had each other. her dad was another story however ! the mandatory meetings with her dad ... those were tense, especially once adala grew older and more stubborn. her frustrations towards him just grow, and grow and grow.

she lived together with her mom ever since then & her mom is truly the person who shaped her and who taught her all her values. i guess you could typify her mom as a hippie ; peaceful and caring, yet fighting for what she believes in. she was a true activist, pro-feminism and environmentally friendly. notorious for inviting her friends around at night, with the house smelling of weed and adala herself tucked away in her room by that time. she wanted to live her life without restrictions & perhaps it ended up with her being more of a friend to adala rather than a mother figure, but they got along so well.

nevertheless, her mom taught her all the important things in life. she’s become independent, perhaps because of the lack of parental guidance but she knows how to take care of herself now, and she’s also a huge activist ! often tags along to protests together with her mom, even from an early age, a huge feminist, values sustainability, and thinks freedom and equality should be protected at all costs.

she’s very skeptical though of many things ; doesn’t trust big corporations, government or anyone’s sorry ass, really ? perhaps she’s a bit of a pessimist even, although she will argue that it’s called realism. the world is going to shit, and nobody’s realizing is her take on it. but whatever, she’s trying to make it the least bit better. better the world, start with yourself kinda ideas — i know, she’s a bit of a hypocrite in that sense with her own pessimistic outlook on nearly everything.

she has the biggest mouth in existence. she has no filter, and will tell you exactly what you need to hear, whether you want it or not ? which can both turn out good or bad. will probably end up dragging your ass even when you do not fully deserve it.

the actual epitome of stubborn ; will not believe anyone but herself until proven wrong completely. she will not change her stance on anything, no matter how hard one tries. out of the kindness of my heart, i would tell anyone to stop trying to convince her after two tries. i even bet if you look up the definition to stubborn, a picture of adala will show up without doubt. or at least it should. she does not cave.

she actually means well though — she’s judgmental, has an opinion on everything from the weather to what netflix movie you watch next, to the political successes of past american presidents, but she is loyal. she’ll be your shoulder to cry on, make whoever made you feel that way pay for it with her own bare hands if she would have had to, if you were only to ask. and once she cares for you, she somewhat always will. it’s a promise she can’t and won’t break.

she’s curious , has the tendency to ask questions for forever & ever and won’t stop until she knows every detail. she has an undying craving to know the why behind every question, behind every action.

so, two years ago she graduated high school & adala decided to go into the law program at bernard university. she now studies pre-law there and wants to go into environmental law as well, save the world ‘n all. the job field might be extra tough though, and it’s something she worries about but also something she needs to do for her conscience. she cannot fight for what is not right and what is not just. going into criminal justice for the money ? it’s something she would frown upon. she would rather go hungry then have to defend a murderer in a case he definitely commited.

the money was the real issue though ; she didn’t get a full ride scholarship and the tuition fee is way too high for her or her mother to pay out of their own pockets and with their father’s forced payment, she cannot pay everything. she’s taking on major, major loans in order to pay for this program however she is hoping that it will all be worth it in the end, when bernard will help her to find a proper job.

her love life ? an absolute mess, she perhaps doesn’t believe in love as fully as anyone else because of the situation her parents are in, but it doesn’t mean she does not yearn for something like it. she is just afraid to admit she’s looking to receive that same kind of love and loyalty she tries to give, i guess ? she is just not necessarily looking for something that takes away her freedom partially. i figure a relationship is something she sees as a burden rather than an addition to life, and perhaps she just has not yet found the person who is not a burden to her, but someone who feels part of her life with ease. she doesn’t want to tie herself down, perhaps. she is, however, completely open and at peace with her love life and sex life. she enjoys whatever she does, and she’s not afraid to give it a shot whenever she wants to — she’s confident enough in herself to make the right decisions, and perhaps that is why she is not ashamed, or completely dependent on what others think of her. she is only interested in her own morals and values.

her aesthetic is leather jackets ( fake leather , don’t hurt the animals kiddos ), metal music, mosh pits, long hair, ripped jeans, tied up graphic tees, boyfriend jeans or skater skirts, dark greens & navy blues, cold brew coffee, black lipstick, band patches, denim, second hand fashion & growing her own vegetables and herbs.

fun facts about her is that she’s super sustainable, hence why she grows her own veggies and is a vegetarian, will definitely promote everyone to do so as well. she loves rammstein, rise against & system of a down. has her favourite leather jacket with all pins on it and it’s gotten a holy status. the true statement piece in her closet. drinks coffee with milk because she thinks it tastes too bitter, although my theory is just that it reminds her of her own bitter soul too much.

CONNECTIONS PAGE CAN BE FOUND HERE ! i am open and available for plots of every kind, although i am super interested in certain close friendships, childhood plots, enemy plots that offer quite a lot of drama and generally plot heavy connections that will give us a lot to work with in threads. so if you’re looking for anyone for that one angsty plot you need, i got you.

[iv-kplpt]

bad days, good nights

plot summary: she moved to gotham looking for a new start. he leads a double life - as a brutal vigilante and as a broke pizza delivery guy. she falls in love with both of them. whoops. or: the one that got out of control.

rated m just to be safe (very vague nsfw and gore)

~9,6k words

Charlie had been in Gotham for less than three months when she first met the Penguin - city's most brutal vigilante, surpassing even the Batman in his ruthlesness. He was not afraid to get his hands dirty, he was not above killing and he was infuriatingly elusive; no one had the slightest clue as to who's hiding behind the mask and under the suit. No one knew who's pulling the trigger. There was no name, no face; only distorted voice and a weird sense of justice.

She moved to the city looking for a fresh start - her first and only marriage ended in an ugly, messy way. New York was forever ruined for her - those were the streets she walked with Harry, this was the park where they kissed, this was the church where they married. She couldn't stand those familiar streets, those noises; and Gotham City had a reputation of a place willing to give anyone a second chance. Her father used to go to school there and he remembered those times fondly; so she packed her things, her scars, her grief - and took it to the city of second chances.

She wasn't bothered by Gotham's rather peculiar problem with masked villains and vigilantes - no place on Earth is perfect, after all. New York also had its fair share of problems; and she kind of admired the Bat. He was on national news from time to time; he was the symbol of Gotham.

But only after moving there she found out about the Penguin.

"That guy's a freak." Louise - her new friend - told her one evening, as they were having a girls' night out. "Also he makes my life hell."

"Oh yeah?" Charlie asked, playing with an olive from her martini and politely ignoring a guy who's been eyeing her from across the room. "Do tell."

"Well, for starters, he keeps killing people my people are looking for. He just... Kills them. No trial, no warning - bam. He's the judge and the executioner."

"Sounds to me like he's doing your job for you." Charlie said jokingly and Louise scoffed.

"Oh puh-lease. And then there's this fucking Batman dude, right? He's our top priority - so Grogan firmly refuses on giving resources to poor losers forced to look for the bird mask guy. And this list of losers... Includes me."

"Hey, speak of the devil." Charlie said, glancing at a tv screen behind the bar. "He just did something."

"Yeah. Fuck!" Louise groaned, looking at her phone. "I just got a text from Dent."

"I keep forgetting you work directly under him, you know." Charlie sighed, thinking about Gotham's handsome, ambicious district attorney. "Is he nice?"

"He's the nicest fucking man in whole wide Gotham." Louise muttered in response, typing her reply. "And I mean it. He's a delight."

"You should introduce me some day."

"Don't hit on my superior, Charlie."

"Why not? He's cute."

"And you are freshly divorced and don't know anyone else in Gotham. Leave Dent alone, we'll find you someone not married to his job. Deal?"

"Deal."

And Louise kept her side of the bargain - mostly. She did her best to introduce Charlie to Gotham social elite; and Charlie was slowly settling down, feeling more and more at home, despite being unable to find anyone who'd actually catch her eye. There was Bruce Wayne, who was very polite, very popular and very boring; there was Katherine Kane, who was very beautiful, very intelligent and very disinterested in fancy parties; and other people, whose names Charlie was slowly learning.

But all in all, Gotham was treating her well - she bought a beautiful house in Crest Hill, Gotham's prestigious suburban neighborhood. She made a few friends, and found some interesting places; she enjoyed Gotham's melody and rhytm and the way its streets and people accepted her as one of their own almost instantly. And it seemed like the whole masked villains thing had been blown out of proportions; at least until that one memorable fundraiser she attended.

It was Harvey Dent's fundraiser; he was running for mayor and he needed funds for his campaign, as his private pockets were not bottomless. Everything was smooth and dandy - and then the Joker showed up.

What did he want? What was his purpose? Nobody could tell, but everyone was afraid of this pale faced, smiling man; his sweetened words and little jokes were intemingled with brutality and sadism and he was unpredictable and destructive like a forest fire.

He showed up. He terrorized the party.

He took Charlie hostage, actually. He spotted her in the crowd, paralyzed next to the table and grinned, as if he knew she's not from around there, as if he somehow smelled new blood. But he knew; and there she was, paralyzed with fear, the Joker putting a gun to her head and cheerfully talking about how beautiful the evening is. And she was shaking and was holding back tears and she could spot Louise and Dent in the crowd, motionless, helpless.

She was sure this is it, this is the end; he'd probably kill her on spot or - even worse - take her with him and then break her, piece by piece, the way he liked to.

(Everyone knew what he does to pretty girls. It involved needles and crowbars and knives. He was leaving shattered people behind and was eluding everyone; the police, Batman, Penguin. All that was left was a trail of blood and tears.)

But he never got to do it to her; or to anyone else.

He dropped dead, half his head missing, a lot of his blood and brain tissue splattered in Charlie's hair; Penguin managed to sneak in and shoot him from the side, killing him instantly.

She slowly turned her head and looked at the suited vigilante, who was calmly reloading his gun, his mask perfectly expressionless, his outfit absolutely impeccable.

(He was making this yellow tie work.)

"Terribly sorry about your hair." he finally said, completely ignoring everyone else. "But that was my only chance to take a shot without the bullet going through you as well. Are you alright?"

"I need a drink." Charlie replied softly and fainted, falling right into Penguin's arms; he caught her and - before drifting away - she thought he actually smells nice, like good cologne and-

*** She woke up in a hospital room; and as soon as she opened her eyes, Louise barged in, followed by detective Bullock and Dent, the latter very apologetic, the former very tired.

They had questions; and she didn't have any answers. She saw what they saw, and knew what they knew, if not less; why would the Penguin want Joker dead? Why wouldn't he?

"What happened after I passed out?" she eventually interrupted them. "Did he escape?"

"...don't tell me one murder was all it took to turn you into a fan." Bullock muttered and Louise shot him a tired look. "What? She's worried about him, just look at her!"

"He saved my life, didn't he?"

"He did." Louise agreed reluctantly. "Well, after you fainted... He carried you to a back room. And then Batman showed up. And they... Did their thing. Lots and lots of collateral damage."

(Batman and Penguin - despite having a similar goal - were not at all friends. Batman didn't approve of Penguin's murderous tendencies; and Penguin didn't approve of Batman's no killing rule. They lacked understanding. They often had to relieve some tension by beating the crap out of each other.)

"We will be keeping an eye on you for some time." Dent informed her. "Just to make sure... You're fine. Will you tell us if he ever reaches out to you?"

"Of course." she assured him, not believing a single word she was saying. "I will."

(The thought of Penguin carrying her in his strong arms filled her with a warm fuzz. He saved her life! He made his stupid mask look good with a suit! And then he carried her, after she fainted! It sounded to good to be true. It sounded dreamy. It sounded cliche.)

"Please tell me you don't have a crush on him." Louise asked her the moment they were left alone and Charlie blinked innocently.

"What?"

"Oh, don't play dumb, you know what I mean."

"I feel like I owe him something, that's all." Charlie said, choosing her words carefully. "Hey, do you think I can go home now?"

"Just let the doctor check if everything's alright and you're free like a bird." Louise said slowly, staring her down. "Like a very flightless bird."

"...oh come on."

"Please don't make my job more difficult than it already is."

They let her go few hours later; it was dawning when she got home.

And something... Was definitely wrong - starting with the fact her front door was open; and she knew she had locked it before leaving.

She should have called the police; but instead - lead by morbid curiosity - simply went in.

Penguin was in her living room, on her couch. And he was bleeding.

"Evening." he said after realizing she's standing in the doorway, with her keys still in hand, staring at him. "Is this... Your house?"

She nodded and he let out a quiet chuckle, interrupted with a pained groan.

"Small world." he said finally. "Hey. Do you know... First aid?"

"I know a lot more." she said, slowly putting her purse down. "My mother's... A surgeon."

"Really?" he asked, as she approached the coach, turning the lights on on her way there. "Then I guess it's my lucky day."

"I wasn't expecting to repay the favor so soon, mister Penguin." she said, kneeling down. "I have to take a look at this."

(Stab wounds. And probably a broken rib or two.)

"I'll patch you up." she said, getting up, his blood on her coat. "I'll be... Right back. Don't move."

"Oh, very funny." he scoffed and she turned around, hiding her smile. "Make it snappy, eh? I'd hate to bleed out in your living room."

She cleaned up his wounds and patched him up as much as she could; she was no surgeon. She was an amateur.

But it seemed to be enough and Penguin visibly calmed down and relaxed. Even with his mask on, she could feel his eyes on her hands.

"What's your name?" he asked eventually.

"Charlie." she replied quietly, looking up. "Alright, that's it. That's all I can do."

"And it seems to be just enough." he said in response, looking down on his bandaged chest. "You are a very literal lifesaver, Charlie."

"Well, so are you." she said, getting up and stretching. "I guess... I should thank you. For today."

"That's my job, isn't it? Killing the bad guys, saving the good guys. And... Once again... So sorry about your hair."

"They got it all out in the hospital. Though... I think I can still feel it." she confessed with a shudder. "His blood. On my skin."

"Well, it's a good thing you can feel. It means you're alive."

"Is that you trying to convince yourself to not worry about being in pain?"

Penguin laughed and her heart skipped a beat.

"Maybe." he admitted finally. "Can I uh... Stay here for a few hours? I think... I need some sleep."

"Of course." she said softly. "I will... Bring you a blanket."

"Thank you, love."

He fell asleep before she came back, and she stood in the doorway for a moment, staring at him; he kept his mask on and she was sure it's uncomfortable as hell. She gently brushed it with her fingertips, wondering who's hiding behind it.

He muttered something, as she covered him with her favorite blanket; very fuzzy and very blue.

Before heading to bed - she was dead tired herself - she left a note on the table, right next to his gun (she was sure it's the same gun he used to get rid of the Joker once and for all); she asked him to not wake her up and to not leave without eating something first.

When she woke up - around noon - he was gone, leaving behind only dried up blood and some breadcrumbs on her kitchen table.

He ate her bagels. And her cream cheese. But she didn't mind; neither she was concerned about all the blood.

She didn't have any energy for going out and being social that day; so she ordered a pizza. There was a decent pizza place nearby; and the truth was, she wasn't actually that big of a fan of their food. It was definitely good, but she didn't even like pizza all that much; but they had a delivery guy with the most beautiful face she had ever seen.

His name was Oswald. He was tall, very, very handsome - in this rugged, nonchalant way she secretly loved - spoke with awful British accent and she simply loved looking at him. And listening to him. She was sure his politeness and cheesy humor he was always greeting her with were coming from the fact she was a rich customer, who tipped well; but she enjoyed it regardless.

Also for quite some time she had been wondering how to ask him out without making it weird. He seemed to be into her; more than once she caught him glancing at her skin, more or less flustered.

(Part of her wanted to hold hands and go for a walk with him. Another part of her wanted him to push her against a wall and make her beg. It was complicated.)

But, alas, it was not her lucky day; Oswald wasn't working that day, as the delivery girl - April - informed her.

"He does say hi though." she added with a giggle and Charlie's heart - for the second time that day - skipped a beat. "He called in and he said he has a feeling you're going to be ordering today and he asked whoever will be delivering to tell you he says hi."

"Really?" she asked softly. "Please tell him I said hi as well."

"Will do!" April assured her, pocketing the generous tip. "Have a good day!"

And Charlie was left alone with a big cheese pizza she didn't even like and a quickly beating heart.

*** During the following weeks, she met Penguin few more times.

Every time he was acting the same - courteous. A bit snarky. Ruthless to bad guys. Very apologetic, if their meeting was taking place on her couch, where he was bleeding and she was patching him up.

"You should get yourself a doctor." she muttered during one of those nights, and he snickered under the mask.

"Why, are you getting tired of me?"

"No, but one day I'll be unable to help. I'm not a miracle worker."

"You do work miracles on me, Charlie." he claimed and she sighed. "Also, I enjoy your company."

"Oh really? That's a smart move, being nice to someone patching you up."

(Her humor was a facade, behind which her joy was hiding. He seemingly didn't notice.)

"I'm dead serious, Charlie. I enjoy our time together... Plus you didn't rat me out, despite being under McDonagh's watchful eye."

(He said our. She liked that, more than she probably should.)

"Louise's a friend." she said, taking her gloves off. "She worries about me."

"Tell me about your life." he said suddenly, as she was walking to the kitchen.

"There's not much to talk about." she said carefully, washing her hands in the sink. "Really."

"Well, then tell me about those few things that are there." he said, right behind her, and she jumped in place; he quietly followed her to the kitchen and was standing right behind her. "I'm... Interested."

He was half naked and for the first time she had a good occasion to take an actual look at him. He had a body of someone whose fighting style was all about agility and speed; he was lean, and his muscles weren't bulky.

He did have beautiful arms though.

"Are you going to just stare at me in silence until I go away?" he asked amused and she blinked a few times. "Because it's not going to work. Just tell me to piss off."

"Sorry." she muttered, turning to the sink again and pouring herself a glass of water. "Right. What do you want to know?"

"Everything's you're willing to share, I suppose."

"I'm an only child." she started slowly, sitting on the table; he sat on the floor, groaning quietly, his back against the wall. "My family... Well. Old money from New York. Nothing very original. I moved here about... Five months ago? Yeah, five."

"And why did you come here?"

"Because I wanted a fresh start." she said shortly. "Personal matters."

"Ah. I symphatize. And... How's this old hag of a city treating you?"

"I've got nothing to complain about. People are... Mostly nice. Though I still have yet to meet Batman."

"He's an asshole." Penguin informed her calmly and she giggled. "But that's my opinion, after getting my ass handed to me by him several times."

"Well, I'm not going to fight him, I just want to look at him. See if he's really as scary as people claim he is."

"He's not." Penguin said shortly. "He's just a man, dressed up as a bat... Can be scary, if you're afraid of bats. Or men."

(She saw Harry's face for a brief moment. Then Oswald's.)

"Men don't scare me. Some of you are... Pretty alright."

"Oh?" Penguin asked, tilting his head slightly. "Got someone specific in mind?"

"There's this pizza delivery guy..." she said absentmindedly. "Oswald. Oswald... Something. He's funny. I like him."

"Then ask him out." Penguin said calmly and she laughed, realizing it's past midnight and she's sitting on her kitchen table, telling her life story to Gotham's most blood-soaked vigilante. "Hey! What's so funny?"

"Nothing! Nothing. But yeah, I might do that. Is there someone in your life, bird guy?"

"Ah, you know I can't tell you that." he said, shaking his head. "The less you know about me, the better for you."

"You're probably right." she agreed sadly. "But come on. Give me something vague."

"Well, there is somebody." he said slowly and - for some reason - her heart dropped. "We're working on it. And that's all I can tell you."

"I hope you'll make it work." she said quietly, getting up. "I'm going to bed. You can have the couch."

"Thank you, my fair lady." he said, nodding in her direction as she left, oddly determined to ask Oswald for his number the next time she sees him, so next time Penguin crashes in her living room she can tell him about this wonderful man she started seeing.

Batman paid her a visit the next night.

She just finished cleaning Penguin's blood off her floor; she's been scrubbing it for almost an hour - and when she got up and turned around, Batman was there, in her living room, staring at her quietly.

He looked very unsettling in the bright light of her lamp.

"Spilled something?" he asked in his signature, deep, growly voice as she stared at him in disbelief.

"Yeah." she replied finally, slowly sitting down in a nearby chair. "Yeah."

Batman. In her living room. Right.

"I know Penguin was here." Batman said calmly, staring her down.

"Who?" she asked, deciding to play dumb.

(She promised herself she won't rat Penguin out. Not to Louise. Not to the police. Not to Batman.)

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." Batman informed her and she winced. "But you have to stop protecting him."

"I'm not protecting anyone though."

"...I'm going to ignore this as well. I know he visits you often, and I know you've been helping him. Why?"

He stared at her, and in the heavy silence she suddenly remembered all the blood he had spilt, all the bones he had broken.

"He saved my life, you know." she said with a shrug. "From the Joker. And it's... More than can be said about certain other people."

"I can't be in two places at the same time."

"And where were you?" she asked, staring at him. "No. Don't answer that, it doesn't matter. What matters is that... Penguin helped."

"And now you're helping him."

"I'm not." she lied again. "All I'm doing is... Voicing my support for the cause."

"This is pointless." Batman muttered and took a step in her direction and she was very, very close to a heart attack-

but Penguin always knew how to make an entrance.

"Batsy!" he said with false enthusiasm, stepping into her house and glancing at Batman. "What on Earth brings you here?"

"Cut the crap, Penguin." Batman said quietly, for a moment turning his attention away from petrified Charlie.

"She has nothing to do with it, Bats." Penguin said, abandoning his false joviality. "Leave her out of it. She knows nothing, she saw nothing... What's your policy regarding innocent bystanders, hmm?"

"Then why are you here, Penguin?"

"Oh, deduce it out!" Penguin said mockingly. "World's greatest detective... Come on! Deduce!"

Whatever his plan was, whatever his intention was - it worked. He started to slowly walk backwards towards the exit and Batman followed and Charlie was left behind in her chair, mortified, staring at the two men.

(She sometimes had problems telling if Penguin was looking at her or not; but this time she could feel his eyes on her. He was glaring at her from behind the mask and she looked back, above Batman's shoulder and for a brief moment she felt like the two vigilantes know something she doesn't. Obviously, they knew a lot of stuff she had no idea about; but they knew something about each other she felt might be important.)

They both disappeared into the night and she was left alone with her racing thoughts and a burning feeling on her face, where Penguin's eyes touched her.

"Well." she eventually muttered to herself, locking her front door. "New Yorkers have to meet Woody Allen, and Gothamites have to be vaguely threatened by Batman. Seems like everything's in order."

(She would have called Louise... But she was doing this one exact thing she was asked to not do. It was just her and Penguin and Batman. Not exactly a dream scenario.)

*** The perfect opportunity to follow Penguin's uncalled for advice regarding her personal life presented itself the next day. She went out to get some groceries - and the pizza place Oswald was working at was on the way.

So she dropped by - for the first time actually seeing the place. It was small, and seemed popular, considering all seats were taken, and the workers seemed to be busy - but April was behind the counter and she noticed Charlie after a short while.

"If it isn't our best customer!" she said with a smile, as Charlie waved at her. "Are you here for Oz?"

"Oz?" Charlie repeated uncertainly. "I... Guess?"

"Everyone calls him Oz, Oswald is a mouthful." April said, giving her customer their change. "Give me a sec, I'll get him for you-"

"I'm here!" Charlie heard a familiar voice and Oswald hastily left the kitchen, his hands covered in flour. "What's up?"

"Hey." Charlie said, smiling nervously and he grinned back, looking absolutely overjoyed. "Can we... Talk?"

"April?" Oswald asked, hesitantly looking at April, who only nodded and waved her hand.

"Go, go." she muttered. "Take a break."

They ended up in an alley behind Sal's, between brick walls, in a safe distance from the nearest dumpster. He lit up a cigarette and she sighed quietly, watching his profile.

(He looked beautiful from that angle.)

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he finally asked and she snapped out of her musings. "Did I muck up the last order or..."

"No, no!" she interrupted him quickly. "It's not a complaint. I... Do you want to get a coffee some day? Or... Tea or a milkshake or whatever?"

"Are you asking me out?" he asked with a lazy smile and for a brief moment she got lost in his squinted eyes.

"Yes." she finally said, nervously playing with the sleeve of her coat and he snickered and put his cigarette out, crushing it with his heel.

"My shift ends in two hours." he finally said. "And then... I'm free. And to answer your original question... Yes. God, yes."

He stretched and glanced at her and she could feel she's smiling like an idiot.

"You have a beautiful smile, by the way." he told her quietly and she smiled even wider. "So... See you in two hours?"

"Yes!" she said enthusiasthically, feeling so so glad she listened to Penguin. "See you!"

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, before turning around and leaving, the sounds of her heels on the concrete accompanied by Oswald's quiet laughter.

They went out for tea that afternoon, and they sat in the corner of the room, where no one could hear them.

"I've been trying to muster up the courage to ask you out for a weeks now, you know." he told her, staring at her attentively. "Never expected you to do it first. It's... Flattering."

"A good friend gave me a good advice." she said, thinking about her late night chat with the Penguin. "At least I assume it was good advice."

"Whoever this friend is, I owe them one." he said with a wink. "Also... I've heard about this deal with Penguin and the Joker. Messed up."

"It could've been worse." she said with a nonchalant shrug. "Nothing happened to me, and I got to meet the notorious Penguin. But it was long time ago... I almost never think about it."

(She was, obviously, lying. She was thinking about that evening a lot. And about Penguin and his arms, strong and lean, and his back, and his breathy, raspy voice.)

"Well, I'm glad you're okay." Oswald said hesitantly and she smiled; he looked like a puppy.

"I'm okay now." she said with a wink and his face lit up.

They talked for a few hours, about nothing and everything; and she decided she definitely loves listening to his voice. She felt comfortable around him, comfortable enough to not play coy and give him a proper, farewell kiss.

He pulled her closer instantly and she decided she likes the feeling of his hand on her back.

"Well." he whispered at some point, breaking the kiss. "Thats another thing I've been wanting to do."

"Call me." she whispered back, sliding a piece of paper with her phone number written on it into his hand.

"Oh, I will. I will." he assured her. "But for now... Have a good night?"

"Oh, I will." she said with a sigh, wondering if Penguin will show up. "I will."

Penguin showed up one week later; in the meantime, she had another casual date with Oswald. Her original urges - to both go for a walk with him and bang him - didn't disappear; in fact, they were getting more and more intense with time. She wanted to take things slow, to not scare him off, to wait some time before introducing him to anyone; but she was sure it's going to happen. She could feel it.

She woke up one night, because she heard some noises downstairs - and when she entered her living room, armed with a baseball bad she saw Penguin. He looked like he got out of a fight, judging by his torn clothes and bruises; but he wasn't bleeding.

"Did I wake you up?" he asked at the sight of her nightgown and messy hair. "My apologies."

"It was bound to happen eventually." she said with a yawn, putting the bat away. "You seem fine. What brings you here?"

"I need to lay low for a few hours and my usual partner in crime is out of town... And I don't have the keys to their place." Penguin said carefully. "May I...?"

"Sure. Be my guest." she said in a resigned tone. "You know, maybe I should give you a set of keys to this place. Also I have a guest room. Maybe... I'll start keeping some clothes for you there." she added, glancing critically at his torn clothes. "What was it this time? A tiger?"

"You could say that." he snickered, sinking into her couch and stretching his legs. "Also, I've been meaning to check up on you." he said in a casual tone, his head turned in her general direction; and she suddenly became very aware of how thin and short her nightgown was. "Is everything alright, Charlie?"

"Yeah." she said with a shrug, sitting in a nearby chair. "I... Went out with that pizza guy. Oswald."

"And... How was it? Do you think he's alright, or is he a serial killer in disguise?"

"...your optimism outshines the sun. No, he's... Great, actually." she admitted. "He's very my type, he's funny, he's honest... And I want to see how this thing develops. Because I think there will be more to us."

"I'm very glad to hear it." Penguin said, and he sounded honest, as honest as possible, considering his mask and a voice altering device inside. "But that being said... Do let me know if he turns out to be a rotten apple. Abuse's abuse, no matter how small."

"I can take care of myself, you know." she said quietly and he sighed.

"I'm not doubting that. What I'm trying to say is... You have a friend in me." he said and she smiled faintly. "Especially considering the Batman thing. You were... Very stubborn in stalling him."

"You saved my life, Penguin."

"And you saved mine, meaning your imaginary debt had been paid." Penguin said quietly and she tilted her head slightly. "You don't owe me anything, Charlie. Nobody owes me anything."

"Yeah, well, I suppose you have a friend in me." she said hesitantly and he chuckled quietly.

"I'm always glad to hear it from beautiful people, you know." he muttered and she guessed he's falling asleep. "Mmm. Mind if I..?"

"Goodnight, Penguin." she said softly, getting up. "Take care."

"And you as well, my fair lady." he muttered in response.

That night her dreams were confusing, to say the least - Oswald and Penguin were both there, and she realized she has to choose, that she can't have both.

She woke up not remembering who she chose; she felt a sting of disappointment when she went downstairs and saw Penguin had already left.

***

With time her crush on Oswald started turning into something else. With time and patience, this crush started to turn into something deeper. Still warm and genuine; but deeper. With time, she started to fall in love with him.

It was a good feeling, falling in love - it felt clear air just after the storm and a fluffy scarf in winter and belonging. She missed that feeling; and the more time they spent together, the more obvious it was she's not alone in this.

(It was in his eyes and in his voice and in the way he glanced at her from time to time when they were walking down the street and the way he'd put his arm around her wais. It was in everything.)

"My god, Charlie." Louise groaned one evening. "Stop grinning at your phone! Also, tell me who is doing this to you."

"Oh, you know." Charlie said nonchalantly, texting Oz back. "A guy."

"That's deliciously vague." Louise's new girlfriend smirked; her name was Vicki and she recently came back from her vacation. "C'mon. Describe him."

"Mmmm-mmmm." she shook her head. "I want to introduce him soon. Don't want to spoil the surprise."

"As long as it's not Bruce Wayne." Louise sighed and Charlie winced.

"Heavens, no. Wayne seems very sweet, but... I don't really have a sweet tooth."

"Oh, he's sweet and nice until you hear the spicy story." Vicki said with a wink. "His family was involved in some pretty dirty stuff, you know. No one knows who leaked this stuff, but it was a huge scandal last year. Ever heard of the Cobblepots?"

"I know about the Cobblepot Part."

"Yeah. They built it, and now it's a fucking ruin." Louise scoffed. "They were close friends with the Waynes... And them BAM, Theodore was driven to suicide, Esther was driven insane, their baby son - Bruce's best friend - shipped off to England, their name in shambles, their fortune... Gone. All because Thomas and Martha and their friends wanted a piece of their land."

"Jesus Christ." Charlie muttered. "That's... Terrible."

"Yeah." Vicki nodded. "But then Waynes got murdered... Karma's a bitch, eh?"

"I wonder what became of the baby Cobblepot though." Louise pondered. "If he's even alive and mentally sound. Nobody heard from him in years."

"Well, if I were him, I'd probably change my name and start from scratch." Charlie said with a shrug, pushing away the realization how close she was from losing everything. "I hope the world is treating him well."

"Yeah." Vicki agreed quietly. "Me too, girl. Me too."

Few days after her talk with Vicki and Louise, Charlie had another date with Oz. He was supposed to meet her in front of the mayor's office - she had some paperwork problems and wanted to deal with them as fast as possible. Inside the building, she bumped into Bruce Wayne. She had met the face of Gotham quite a few times now - he was charming, polite and she didn't particularly care about him either way. She didn't mind his occasional company - but she certainly didn't crave it either.

They were standing on the sidewalk outside the building, chatting about... Weather. Harvey Dent, the upcoming election, police's efforts to capture both Batman and Penguin - usual Gotham stuff.

Eventually, she felt the familiar arm wrapping around her waist and she smiled.

"Hello, darling." Oswald said tenderly, brushing her temple with his lips. "Am I late?"

"No, no, I was finished early." she said cheerfully, turning around to face Bruce Wayne, who was staring at Oswald. "Mister Wayne, this is-"

"Oh, we've met." Bruce interrupted her quietly, his voice cracking slightly. "Oz..."

"Hello, Bruce." Oswald replied equally quietly, not looking Bruce in the eye. "It's been... A while."

"Twenty years."

"Yes. Twenty years."

Heavy silence fell between them, and - very confused Charlie - looked at Oswald in silence for a while, until something finally clicked.

(The fact everyone called his name a mouthful, the fact he never gave her his surname, the fact he seemed to be broke, the fact he seemed to avoid that part of Gotham where Cobblepot Park was located.)

"Oh my god." she said finally. "You're... You're Oswald Cobblepot."

"Yeah." he said quietly, tensely. "I... Should have told you sooner. I'm so, so sorry."

"Oswald, where have you been?!" Bruce Wayne asked, visibly moved. "Please, talk to me."

"I'm managing, Bruce." Oswald replied harshly. "I'm... I'm managing. I don't want your mercy. I don't want anyone's mercy."

"It's not mercy, I'm your friend!"

"To be honest, Bruce... I'm not so sure if I'm your friend anymore." Oswald said, and his voice sounded empty and sad and tense. "Now please excuse me, I... Have a date."

Charlie and Oswald walked away from Bruce Wayne and only after a couple of minutes in complete silence she glanced at him; he was looking at the ground under his feet, avoiding her eyes.

"When were you going to tell me?" she finally asked and he shrugged and sighed.

"I don't know." he admitted. "But I was going to... Eventually. I've been... Hiding it. I was so tired of people looking at me like that... Same way Bruce was looking at me."

"You're not your family's tragedy, Oswald." she said quietly, gently brushing his hand with her fingertips. "You're more than that. You're your own person."

"Wow, thanks, Sherlock." he said with a faint smile and she scoffed. "Hey, Charlie."

"Yeah?"

"Does this change anything... About us?"

"Well, for me you're still the pizza delivery guy who smuggled me extra garlic bread more than once." she said and he snickered. "You're also still the same guy I asked out for coffee, so... I don't think so."

(She meant it. Cobblepot or not, burdened with a family tragedy or not - he was still her Oswald.)

They didn't confess any actual feelings that day; it wasn't a good time. But they had time.

*** Penguin visited her the same night - or: came crashing through her front door, covered in blood.

"Penguin!" she called out, running up to him. "Oh my god, what happened?!"

"A lot of things, at once." he groaned. "Oh god... This hurts like, pardon my French, motherfucker."

"Shut up!" she said, panicked, walking him up to the couch; he fell onto it like a sack filled with potatoes. "Stop talking. I'm... I'm going to patch you up."

"Talk to me, Charlie." he asked as she came back with her utensils. "Please. Just... Talk to me. Keep me anchored."

(Things were looking bad and she wasn't so sure if her abilities are enough to help.)

"I... I met Oswald Cobblepot." she said in a state of panic, trying to figure out where to start. "Shit, Penguin, I don't think I can do this. I don't have the equipment! I'm not a professional!"

"It's alright." he said and coughed. "I have a guy, he's on his way, you just stop me from bleeding out. Talk to me. Cobblepot?"

"Yeah. Turns out my pizza delivery guy had been Oswald Cobblepot all along." she said, trying to stop the bleeding in three places at once. "He says he's... Managing."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And he asked me if his past changes how I feel about him."

"Well... Does it?"

"No!" she bridled in response. "Well, maybe a bit. But I still like him! I still like being kissed by him."

"For his own good, I hope he's good for you."

She could hear some noises outside and Penguin sighed with relief.

"Ah. My friend is coming."

"Penguin... You can't keep doing this." she said on a verge of tears, her hands and clothes completely covered in his blood. "I'm not going to be able to help you every time!"

"Yeah, well, maybe I just like feeling your hands on me." he sighed and she froze in place. "Batsy! There you are. Help me out, would you?"

She looked behind her and there he was - Batman, in her own living room, again. He put his gloved hand on her shoulder and forced her to get up; Penguin scoffed at this sight.

"Be gentle with her, Batsy." Penguin warned the Bat quietly. "She's not the one you want. Now... Let's get down to business."

"Get out." Batman said to her quietly and she left, too shocked by what Penguin just told her to argue.

Maybe I just like feeling your hands on me.

Was he serious? Was he joking? She had no idea; there was too much pain, too much tension in his - already modified - voice for her to tell.

But there had to be some reason for him to keep coming back, for him to trust her with his wounds, for him to call her my fair lady. Was it all just a ploy, a game to win her loyalty? Or did she accidentally bewitch a masked vigilante?

She tried to look at herself through his eyes; she tried to feel what he felt - but to no avail.

(She felt guilty. She had feelings for Oswald; but the faint chance of Penguin actually being smitten with her made her blood rush and her heart skip a beat. She sometimes still remembered the feeling of him catching her just before she fainted.  It felt safe; she felt safe around him, comfortable enough to talk about her private life with him.)

She took a long shower, washing off all of his blood. When she left the bathroom - wearing clean clothes, her hair still wet, and her face bare - Batman was waiting just outside.

(The sight of him in her brightly lit corridor was absolutely surreal.)

"I'm too tired to lie to you tonight." she said before he said anything. "So. How is he?"

"He will live." Batman informed her and she sighed with relief. "He's going to stay the night here. Is that a problem?"

"Wouldn't be the first time it happened." she sighed. "So... Are you going to arrest us?"

"No." he said after a very long pause. "At least not tonight. We reached... An understanding. And as for you..."

"I'm fucked, aren't I?"

"Don't interrupt me. As for you..." he continued, "You never did anything wrong. You are not a criminal. You are not my enemy."

"Yeah, but I'm a friend of your enemy."

"He's not my enemy." Batman said dryly. "He just doesn't realize it yet. Me and Penguin - we're not enemies."

"Then... What are you?"

"You don't need to know everything. But I have a piece of advice for you."

"I'm all ears, Batman."

"Don't push." he said quietly. "Don't push him, because sometimes a little push is all it takes. And you... Might be just the person able to make that push. Do not."

"What the fuck does this mean?!" she groaned, but Batman didn't respond - instead he only turned around and left and she could've swear that she heard the typical sound of a human head banging against a low doorframe.

Penguin was on her unfortunate, bloodied couch in her living room; he turned his head as she entered the room, her arms crossed on her chest.

"I'm alive." he told her faintly and she scoffed. "I assume this is the last time I'm allowed to use this place as an asylum..?"

(In his arms, she felt safe.)

"No." she said softly, her very conlicted heart melting. "Of course not."

"Any other answer would break my heart." he said quietly, his voice so muffled she could barely hear him. "I am feeling drawn to you, Charlie."

"Christ." she said half jokingly, her heart pounding. "What did Batman do to you?"

"Midazolam." he said lazily. "And some other things. Something for the pain, something to calm me down, some... Some other things. He gave me a calming painkiller that doubles as a truth serum, basically. He also patched me up. Please don't ask me what my name is."

"I won't." she promised him, despite really wanting to know. "But Penguin..."

"I know." he said quietly. "There's Oswald. A sweet, nice, pizza delivery guy with a secret... I actually crossed paths with him, you know?"

"Did you?"

"I did. I know him... Quite well, the young Cobblepot. From his bad old days in the United Kingdom. We go wayyyyy back."

"Yeah?" she asked quietly, staring at the mask, trying to see what's behind it. "Where are you going with this, Penguin?"

"He's not a jealous type." Penguin finally said. "He... Wouldn't mind."

"...would't mind what, exactly?"

"Us." Penguin breathed out. "Do you feel drawn to me, Charlie?"

"You're basically high." she said calmly, her face deep, deep red. "Let's have this conversation when you are... Not high. Okay?"

"I'll keep you to your word, Charlie." he muttered, clearly drifting away. "One kiss for every freckle..." was the last thing she heard before he dozed off and she was left with her heart pounding, her head full of questions and a familiar, pulsing ache deep in her body.

He disappeared without a trace the next morning, and he didn't even leave a note behind.

She called Oswald, desperate for some answers - but he was sick. He caught a cold; and when she offered to come over and take care of him - he refused, claiming his afflictions are always extremally contagious.

"But will you call me once you feel better?" she asked sadly and even though the coughing, she could hear him smile.

"Of course I will. Take care, mm?"

"Take care, Oz."

(Both men she had feelings for were unavailable and she was starting to really miss being kissed. She couldn't imagine being kissed by Penguin - with that colossal mask in the way - but she always had very plastic, vivid imagination.

Eventually it found a way.)

*** Things got very complicated very quickly.

She had a feeling Penguin started to evade her after his sudden midazolam-influenced confession; she watched the news and read the papers and knew about all his fights and problems, but not even once he showed up on her couch, asking for few hours of sleep and bandages. Not even once he came to feel her gentle fingers on his scarred skin. And she was concerned - for she realized she actually cares about him, whoever he might be. He never gave her a name, and he never took his mask off around her; but she knew him by his words and by his bloody, bloody deeds. Murders of rapists, mutilations of neonazis, careers crashing and burning; Penguin had been busy.

She never talked about him with Oswald, after all - there was no point in doing so. Penguin trusted her, and by digging in his past she'd violate this trust; she tried to forget everything he told her that night, she tried to forget every dream she had about this faceless man.

Oswald was next to her and was very real and kissed her slowly and gently, but something was stopping him from further intimacy; something was keeping him from showing her his body, even though at that point he saw hers plenty of times. They got together, officially; they said I love you one night during a storm, and she introduced him to her friends and told her parents about him.

They were happy. They were in love. He seemed to be completely unaware of Penguin's shadow looming over them, creeping into their small moments, between their lips as they kissed, putting his bloodied hand between her thighs. He didn't know. It didn't matter. He didn't have to know.

Or: it didn't matter until the moment Penguin killed Carmine Falcone, who - recently - had been revealed to be one of the missing pieces in the Wayne-Cobblepot mystery. One day someone leaked the old photos and recordings; next day he was killed in the hospital as Bruce Wayne was visiting him. Penguin barged in, seemingly calm - though she knew his icy calm often hides a storm - and shot Falcone, before escaping.

Just like this, Carmine Falcone - one of the people who took everything from Oswald Cobblepot - was dead.

"Oswald..." Charlie said, as Oswald showed up on her doorstep, pale as a sheet. "I heard."

"They'll think I did it." he whispered, hiding his face in her hair. "I don't have an alibi..."

"You have me." she said firmly, tightly grasping his shirt with her fingers. "You have me."

(Oswald Cobblepot wouldn't be capable of killing someone in cold blood. He was broken and sad and only barely managing - but he wasn't a killer. She once looked the devil in the eye; she would know.)

Nobody ever questioned Oswald about the killing - everyone assumed Falcone had to die because of his criminal kingdom, because of things he was doing to small people of Gotham. It made sense; it fit Penguin's modus operandi. You hurt this city, you hurt its people - the city retaliates, it's revenge going by the name Penguin.

But then came the day of the debate between two mayoral candidates - Dent and Hill.

Oswald was at work that day, he had a night shift; and Charlie was watching, not really paying attention - up until Penguin took the scene, kicking the moderator out.

She never saw him that angry, and it was a very poorly hidden anger; a volcano, ready to erupt. A ticking time bomb.

Hamilton Hill died that night, on live tv; the executioner read his list of crimes and it was a long one. Corruption, hatred, abuse, partaking in the Cobblepot Tragedy, greed; a bit of everything was there.

Charlie couldn't stop looking. She didn't even blink when Penguin pulled the trigger and mayor's head exploded. She was mesmerized.

(There was something in the way he was using his gun that was making it impossible for her to focus on literally anything else.)

Batman was there, and he was not at all happy. Penguin got away; and she almost felt surprised when he sneaked into her house, bleeding from his shallow wounds.

"Charlie..." he said in his raspy voice, standing behind her. She didn't budge.

"Batman knows where to find you, Penguin." she said quietly, almost not breathing. "Do you think it's wise for you to come here?"

"I'm hiding in the plain sight." he said simply. "I'm wounded, Charlie."

"I know." she said, finally getting up. "Sit down. I will... Patch you up."

He looked tense and she just saw him take a life again; there was no blood on him, except for his own.

She did a bit more than just patch up his wounds that evening.

This time his fingers between her thighs were real. It was all real, even if the best she could do was to kiss the cold, smooth surface of his mask.

She felt no remorse. She felt no regret. She only felt euphoric as she rode him on her couch, his hands on her back, her nails on his arms, her lips on his neck.

Batman never came for him, and in the meantime Oswald texted her saying he'll call her tomorrow, because he needed some time alone to fully process what happened; and Penguin fell asleep on her couch, still wearing his mask.

He was fast asleep and she was impulsive. Without actually thinking - she quickly took his mask off.

(He saw her pink nipples and he heard her moans. It only seemed fair to finally learn who's behind the mask.)

It took her a long moment to process what she was looking at and it took him a long moment to wake up.

"...Oswald?" she finally said, her voice cracking up. "Tell me I'm dreaming. Tell me... This is not true."

"Hello, love." Oswald said, looking at her sadly. "That... Was not how I was hoping you'd find out."

"You weren't going to tell me." she said slowly, calmly. "You... You were going to just keep lying, weren't you? You didn't trust me enough... None of you trusted me."

"Charlie..."

"We both lied to each other, it seems." she muttered, feeling like she's about to faint; slowly, she put the mask down and got up, walking away from the couch. "But... I got the message. You texted me... While we were fucking."

"I have a computer running some scripts." he said quietly. "Charlie... Why did you do this?"

"Why did I do what?" she asked faintly. "Cheat on you?"

"Why did you unmask me." he asked, his voice cracking. "I spent so much time, building those lives... Separating them... Why did you have to blur the lines?"

"I did it by existing! It's not my fault you developed feelings for me!"

"But would this have happened if we were two people? If me and Penguin... If we weren't the same?"

"But you are the same!" she protested tearfully. "You are the same!"

They were both upset. They were both torn.

None of them knew how they feel and why they feel the way they do and how to fix it.

She kicked him out. He told her to never call him again.

For a few days, it was quiet. Sad - but quiet.

She heard Oswald just stopped coming to work. Penguin got way, way more active - and Louise was starting to suspect something.

(Or maybe she simply had a working brain. It didn't take a genius to connect the dots - her heartbreak, the disappearance of Oswald, Penguin becoming more vicious, more ruthless, more careless.)

She was almost ready to get over it, to forget, to move on again - but then Batman paid her a visit.

"I told you to not push." she heard, right after walking into the kitchen. "I told you, and you pushed and pushed and pushed."

"He did all the pushing, Bats." she said tiredly and he winced. "Fine. We both pushed. You should've been clearer."

"And he's now on a road to self destruction."

"We cut each other out." she said, setting her bag of groceries down on the table, as Batman awkwardly stood in the corner. "It's... Not my problem anymore."

"Lie to me all you want, but at very least be honest with yourself." Batman said quietly and she froze for a moment, holding a grapefruit.

(Oswald loved their smell.)

"I'm not lying to anyone, Bat." she said eventually, resuming the unpacking. "Not anymore."

"Don't do this for Penguin, Charlie. Do it for Oswald."

"Ah. So you knew."

"For quite some time now. He was covering his tracks well, but... Not well enough."

"Alright, I'll bite." she said suddenly, turning around to face him. "Why do you care about Oswald Cobblepot so much, Bat?"

"I don't need to explain myself to you."

"You are not Bruce Wayne, right?" she said with doubt in her voice; it was impossible. Batman was way more massive than Wayne; and Wayne lacked... The spine. The will. Everything. "He used to be friends with Oz."

"I am the night, Charlie." Batman replied. "And nocturnal animals need to flock together."

"Penguins are not nocturnal though. They are diurnal." she said, feeling like this is a very, very weird dream. "They don't have any land predators, so they can rest at night-"

"This penguin is nocturnal." Batman interrupted her, sounding even more awkward than she did. "Let's leave biology out of this discussion."

"Why are we even having this conversation?" she asked finally. "Don't you have... Crime to stop? People to beat up?"

"Penguin seems to be doing fine by himself." Batman replied calmly. "Maybe it is his way of self destruction... But you allegedly don't care."

"Fuck. You're not going to go away, are you?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You fucking creep." she sighed with annoyance. "Fine. I do care. I suppose... I fell in love with Oswald and Penguin. As... Separate people. The fact they are one and the same kind of makes things easier. But then I went on and cheated on Oswald with himself, and I guess... Do you know how and why my marriage ended?" she asked suddenly, and Batman - of course - nodded.

"I did my homework. It was... An ugly story."

"Yeah. So I guess I'm sort of touchy on the topic of secret identities and hidden agendas. Look, do we have to do this in a brightly lit kitchen? It ruins... Everything your costume stands for."

"I appreciate your honestly." he said and for a brief moment she had no idea what is he referring to. "Now get dressed. I know where and how to find Penguin, but... I need your help."

"Who told you I want to do anything?!"

"...I've been recording this entire conversation for my Bat-Archive, do you want me to replay your love confession?"

"...Bat-Archive? Really?"

"...get dressed."

*** Batman took her to one of the seediest parts of town, where the worst of the worst were residing. She was supposed to get in trouble; he promised to swoop in in case Penguin doesn't show up.

So she got into trouble - she smiled to the wrong person. One minute later, there was a knife at her throat and she was mentally preparing herself to die-

when she heard the gunshot. Obviously, it was not Batman - he was very firm on his anti-gun stance.

No, when Charlie opened her eyes, she saw the familiar mask and a familiar gun and a familiar suit. Man who - according to his own words - was going to gut her with his own hand was lying dead; and Penguin silently turned around, ready to leave, then she grabbed the fabric of his sleeve.

"Penguin..." she pleaded.

He stopped. Slowly turned his head, looked at her hand, and finally - at her face.

"What do you want?" he asked coldly. "You don't owe me anything. I don't want anything from you."

"Drop the act." she said quietly. "Please. I'm here to apologize. Because... Because..."

"...yes?"

"I still love you, you idiot!" she finally blurted out, still holding his sleeve. "I love this you and the one under the mask. Both of you. The whole you."

"And both of us love you." he said quietly and she slowly moved her fingers from his sleeve to his hand; their fingers touched and - finally - he took her hand. "This is a fucked up situation."

"Let's talk it out." she said breathlessly. "Just please-"

He took her into her arms before she finished her sentence. He smelled the same way he did when they first met; and she still felt safe in his arms.

They had a lot of issues to work through, some of them couldn't even be named; but they had time. And they had each other and it was all that mattered.

[terranoctis]

Stories of 2019

I would like to say this piece is about the best pieces of media and literature that came out in 2019, but it isn’t. I know there’s a myriad of stories I consumed this year that originally came out in years prior. This post, really, is about the most memorable stories I consumed and experienced for different reasons. I’m mostly writing it as a retrospect of a year where I made it my goal to experience more stories to become a better writer.

Literature

- His Dark Materials, Books 1 & 2 (The Golden Compass & The Subtle Knife), by Phillip Pullman

I have long been curious about these books by Phillip Pullman. It was popular in my childhood, though not as much as other books my childhood companions read. Someone told me the premise of the series in a comical manner about how it wrote religion into the world, and that dialogue sold me long ago on reading the series. I didn’t get the chance, however, to read it until rather recently, at the tail-end of 2019. I rather value the fact that I read it as I was older. I would’ve loved it as a child, I’m certain of it, but there’s definitely a darker tone to it that I appreciate more as an adult. It makes me nostalgic for the story I’m writing in all the good ways. I admire Pullman’s writing as well. It should be noted the TV series adaptation of the books is rather solid, and one I’m enjoying currently. 

- The Poppy War, by R.F. Kuang

Surprise, surprise, another fantasy novel makes my list. I think however, that it is a rather amazing one in where it went with its main character. It is a long novel, but one that thoroughly develops the world it’s in and the path a protagonist can take to become both the hero and the enemy, for better or worse. By the end of the novel, I’m not certain that I can find that her actions are acceptable, though I understand her mindset into it all. And that’s what makes the story fascinating to me. I like to write about people, even the most troubled ones. War can be a horrifying monster to everyone it touches, combined with the obsessions of our own ambitions.

- The Priory of the Orange Tree, by Samantha Shannon

Well-written, and honestly a joy to read at times, my first novel from Samantha Shannon pleasantly surprised me when I learned that it tastefully wrote about a same-sex relationship between two women. That isn’t the main focus of the novel, however. Across the board, the protagonists of the stories consist of two strong women and two men who have much to do to keep order in their own lives and the world around them. It’s about differences in beliefs coming together in order to be a better good. There are so many threads and yet they tie together rather beautifully by the end. It’s a wonderfully crafted tale of high fantasy that I’d honestly love to see more of someday. 

Comics & Manga

- Monstress, by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda

At the tail-end of 2018, I was starting to pick up some western comics, as I previously had only largely consumed Eastern-style manga and manhwas. One of the ones that grabbed me and kept me was Monstress, first for its beautiful, gorgeous artwork, and second for the fact of how it writes its main character. It’s dark, yet hauntingly beautiful, the world the comic takes place in. The story has some pacing issues, but even so, it was by far my favorite western comic I read this year.

- Paper Girls, by Brian K. Vaughan and Cliff Chiang

Saga was the series that kind of introduced me to the kind of brand of Western comics that I thought I would like, that stretched beyond superheroes. It was my favorite comic of 2018, and still arguably one of my favorites now. It made sense then, that I would read other comics by one of its creators. Paper Girls is a fun read, and also deals with time travel and the fates that we follow and create for ourselves. And I am a sucker for anything time travel.

- Yagate Kimi Ni Naru by Nakatani Nio

I’ll be honest. I read chapters of this prior to 2019, but as the series ended recently and I re-read the entire series from the beginning, this manga sincerely stole my heart again. As someone who has never been in touch with her feelings as much, to see someone understand how they felt about another and figure it out, especially in the context of friendship and between two girls, was a quiet experience that I loved and enjoyed. 

TV Shows

- Euphoria, from HBO

It honestly was the first show that came to mind for me about this year. It’s not my typical genre as an adult now, as it is a show about teenagers and their experiences. However, I think this is a show that definitely is for adults as well, more so than teenagers perhaps. Because, after all, we remember what it’s like to be that age. It’s about the mess people at that age in high school can be, as products of their environment and the upbringing they had. I watched it on a whim between episodes of the last season of Game of Thrones and enjoyed it far more. It’s a show about addiction, about desire, about abuse, about everything good and bad. It wrote so well the experiences of people from across the spectrum.

- The End of the F***ing World, from Netflix

I surprisingly liked this second season more than the last one. I think I liked it more because it goes more into depth about the mentality of each person. More than just diving into it, it went into how they are trying to mend it and address it. It’s still as charmingly amazing as it was the first season, with its sort of absurd dry humor.

- She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, from Netflix (and Dreamworks Animation)

I never really expected how much I actually would enjoy this show when I first watched it on a whim in 2018. Even though I already knew back then how much I admired the characterization of Adora and Catra, it was just a small admiration. This admiration only grew and grew as the series progressed and started extending to the show’s writing in general. The series is written to be enjoyed by all ages, but there’s an underlying tonality to it that definitely calls to me as an adult, particularly in the case of Catra’s story. It’s not perfect, by any means, but it’s exactly that quirky nature and well-written dialogue that makes me think this will be a series that will be on my mind for a long time. 

- The Good Place, from NBC

This show is permanently on my list until it stops airing. It’s still just as good.

Movies

- The Theory of Everything (2014)

I went through a lot this year in my personal life, one of the situations being someone returning to my life that I never expected to speak to again. It brought me much perspective to see a film about persevering, understanding how time can be strange in its own ways, and how we make so much in this world for ourselves by just being with one another. I admire Stephen Hawking, for one, but the film brought a fictionalized story to life between him and Jane Hawking that I thought was honestly beautiful. And the heart of what made this film great was that relationship and bond through time. It was hopeful. The film made me remember why it was okay, that even after all these years, I still had something to be hopeful and grateful in all those years past. ...It’s also just a really beautifully shot film. That ending sequence had me near tears. 

- Parasite (2019)

I think if I had to choose one film to be my favorite of the entire year, it would be this film. There’s so much packed into it, but it’s beautifully, wonderfully done. It was personal on a bizarre level about social class and how the way we’re raised and the amount of money we have growing up affects who we become. It’s about inequality, about family, and so much. I can’t even find the right words to describe it because I think it’s a film everyone should watch.

- Marriage Story (2019) 

I can’t say that I’ve been through a divorce, but I’ve been through an emotional disconnect with someone that meant much to me. It’s why watching this film made me go through a rollercoaster that I could relate to. Even when relationships, friendships, or something in between end on a sour note, it doesn’t take away all your affections for them. Even if it doesn’t make sense, you still love them, no matter how much you bitterly want to hate them. And sometimes, relationships don’t just end because of some horrible end-all thing. Sometimes, it just doesn’t work out--and you have to live with that. And sometimes, you have to live with one another still, even if maybe you’d be better off being out of each other’s lives. The movie hit me on a personal note on many levels, and I think anyone who’s been in any sort of situation like that will feel the same watching the movie. 

- Knives Out (2019)

I would like to simply present Daniel Craig’s character talking about donut holes to explain why this is one of my favorite films this year. But really, it’s witty, it’s fun, and it feels relevant to the atmosphere we have in American society in modern times. It’s a whodunit mystery with a twist that in the end, and truthfully really isn’t about a murder at all, but rather about the people that make up a little of entitled society and the people who have to live with them. 

- Little Women (2019)

I sincerely loved Louisa May Alcott’s novel growing up, and had a wild amount of excitement for Greta Gerwig’s adaptation. I was not let down. It’s not a traditional take on the story, and yet it is. It changes up the timeline in a brilliant way, and moreover, does so much justice to Amy’s character and the way women have to live in that time period. It brings out more of Jo’s joy in writing and telling stories. It does a brilliant job of portraying Laurie’s relationship with Jo, as well as Amy. It’s a strong adaptation of a largely female tale that is also made relevant for modern times. I can also say that Florence Pugh did a phenomenal job as Amy.

----

There are a number of other stories I consumed this year that I loved, such as Frozen II or Naomi Novik’s novels, but I can’t list them all. I hope 2020 continues to be a year of great stories for me. And I hope it is a year for me to better expand on my own stories. 

[jimmiekiser]

Employee Lawsuit Protection

Asset Protection Tips for entrepreneurs, medical practice professionals and small business owners. As a lawyer for entrepreneurs, I work hard to make sure our clients are protected. This post discusses how to put a plan in place for protection from employee lawsuits. We also cover common employee lawsuits, protecting business and personal assets, avoiding lawsuits, and termination tips.

The Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) receives over 100,000 employee claims filed in a fiscal year. The result is nearly half a billion dollars that employers paid out in EEOC claims. A full 10% of wrongful termination and discrimination cases see employees awarded $1 Million+ settlements. The average is $40,000 per settlement. Legal fees for court trials in these cases average $45,000 in defense costs.

No matter how well prepared you are, you can still become victim to a Robin Hood judge. Many members of the judiciary delight in transferring a business owner’s wealth to an employee looking for an easy buck. So, do what it takes to protect yourself. For example, you can establish an asset protection trust. It one of the most effective tools to shield your hard-earned wealth. Then, divide your business empire into a series of properly filed and maintained companies. When someone sues one of the companies, the lawsuit does not affect the others. Do this before the bullets start to fly is a good start. That said, below we will discuss some additional warnings and corresponding precautions you can take.

Common Employee Lawsuits

The most common employment claims are wrongful termination, discrimination (age, sex, religion), sexual harassment, retaliation, whistleblowing and more. Race discrimination used to top the charts, however retaliation has become the top cited form of discrimination claim.

Unfortunately these figures are on the rise. We assist more and more business owners and medical practice owners who are concerned with employee lawsuit vulnerability. There are many reason why this is happening, both socially and economically, however it means that it’s never been more important to protect yourself and your business from an EEOC claim.

As soon as an employee files an unemployment claim, his or her mailbox is filled with mail from law firms offering free consultations boasting big payouts. It would cost a person nothing to try because a majority of these firms offer services on a contingent fee basis.

Business Protection

Insurance is not enough. Carrying EPLI (employment practices liability insurance) offers limited protection to the business depending on your state and insurance policy. Depending on how you structured your business, your business entity may not shield your business assets. The secret? Set up one corporation or LLC to operate your business. Set up another company (preferably an LLC) that owns business equipment. Your operating company simply leases the equipment from company number two. Both, in turn, protect you from personal exposure.

Personal Asset Protection

Finding yourself in an employee lawsuit could be big and costly, not just in legal fees, but in your time as well. You can take your wealth off of the lawsuit radar for good with a proper asset protection strategy. Set up an asset protection trust. Inside the asset protection trust is an LLC. You are the manager of the LLC. You make investments. As the manager you are the signatory on the bank and investment accounts. When the “bad thing” happens, the trustee steps in as LLC manager. This puts you in a position of impossibility when ordered to release the funds.

Your home goes into a land trust for privacy. Income property also goes into individual land trusts. Then, for anything but a personal residence, an LLC owns each land trust. The land trust provides a shield to keep your name and company names out of the public records. The LLC gives asset protection. For example, you and your spouse own the LLC. When someone sues you, legal provisions protect your company membership and anything inside of it.

Avoiding Lawsuits

The best outcome you could wish for is that nobody hits you with a lawsuit. The problem is that you don’t control the other guy. Any employee can sue you at any time, whether justified or not. The only thing you can do is to protect your assets from lawsuits and be clear about employee and management policies.

Managing employees is challenging because we all want to be a nice person and for others in the workplace to like us. Unfortunately that’s where most of the problems arise. The most problematic management responsibility, in a legal sense, is hiring, firing and discipline in proper and effective ways.

Employee Firing and Discipline Tips

Have written job descriptions with responsibilities and performance expectations

Communicate clearly how you enforce your requirements

Encourage and enable employees to communicate any issues in the workplace or their performance

Establish a specific discipline process and high standards

Firing an employee is a process in which you, the business owner, are responsible. Here’s a four-step discipline plan for employees that can help you avoid an EEOC lawsuit.

Initially, deliver constructive criticism, further instructions and feedback (good or bad) verbally. This is as simple as communicating to your employee that there is a performance issue or conflict in the workplace that he or she needs to assess.

If an employee’s subpar behavior or performance persists, you write down exactly what the performance issue is. Then reference the job description that they interviewed for with your performance expectations, discipline process and responsibilities clearly defined. Provide a copy to the employee. This all becomes a pillar in your case against an EEOC charge.

Before firing your employee, the final management discipline action is to provide an affirmative written agreement. It should generally specify the performance or behavior that the employee needs to improve. The agreement will tie everything together, the employee agreement with employee responsibilities, performance expectations as well as your discipline plan. In the agreement the employee should agree to specific changes in his or her performance and behavior.

More Asset Protection Information

The most common mistake made by managers is not keeping records of underperformance or bad employee behavior

Verbal warnings and discipline often ends up into a hearsay battle

With detailed documentation of repeat offense with an employee signature would leave little chances of losing a lawsuit, or even finding a lawyer to sue

When it comes time to terminate an employee after all of your management efforts have failed, you must have this process defined. Start with security; you should first address access, keys, passwords, entry cards or other security items such as alarm codes. HR experts recommend that you have a witness during this process. It should include a final interview that you document, if possible. If the employee has compensation coming, write a check on the spot (if you can), including any severance or other offering you may have at the time of termination. Finally, encourage feedback, either at the time of the final interview, or in writing later with a form that you provide.

You cannot avoid the lawsuit threat. However you can minimize your vulnerability. Communicated and enforce strong practices and policies. Most importantly, protect your business and personal assets from lawsuits.

Free Initial Consultation with an Asset Protection Lawyer

When you need help protection your assets and your business, call Ascent Law for your free consultation (801) 676-5506. We want to help you.

Ascent Law LLC8833 S. Redwood Road, Suite CWest Jordan, Utah 84088 United StatesTelephone: (801) 676-5506

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Source: http://www.ascentlawfirm.com/employee-lawsuit-protection/

https://realestatelawyerwestjordanutah.wordpress.com/2018/02/10/employee-lawsuit-protection/

[piecesplacesthings]

Why ‘The Fall’ is one of the bravest shows I’ve ever watched

The Fall is a show about a murderer and a policewoman but more than that it is a dirty, distorted mirror that reflects our opinions and expectations back on us, asking us if that first response is really the right one. 

To say that Season 3 of BBCs The Fall has been divisive would be an understatement. Even among its early season champions there have been those who felt that the pace, always achingly slow, had become preposterous, that the excitement had dwindled and that what they’d loved about Season 1 was gone by midway through Season 2. Those people are entitled to their view but twelve hours after watching the Season 3 finale, and still rocked by what I witnessed, I want it on the record how very impressed I am by the series in its’ entirety.

Here’s why I think The Fall is such important viewing and why I will go down shouting that it is one of the bravest, ballsiest things I have ever had the privilege to watch.

Upside Down TV

Television, but specifically the thriller/crime genre, relies on keeping viewers on the edge of their seats. There are huge differences in execution depending on the sub-genre,  the trappings of procedural drama, a psychological thriller and an experimental Scandi project are wildly different but they all rely one common thing. The withholding of information. In almost all crime dramas the audience is missing certain key pieces of information. We spend the show watching for clues to string together seemingly unrelated events which will lead us to a plot conclusion. Along the way we are fed characters, situations and atmosphere which lead us subtly to the desired conclusion, that flurry of revelation at the end where everything suddenly makes sense. At the moment of climax our understanding of what happened suddenly catches up to our expectations, to the emotional understanding we have and we walk away from the show feeling relief. We expect to be surprised and are pleased when we work out the surprise the nanosecond before it is revealed.

Not so The Fall.

From the first episode we know who and we know what and we have some strong suspicions as to why. The first season looks and feels more like other thrillers because you have the cat and mouse element, but what’s happening under the surface is a huge departure. Under the cover of an edgy but understandable plot, the foundations of everything we expect from a show of this type is being chipped away. The obvious changes are easy We have a female lead, utterly divorced from the domestic setting without a backstory to help us comprehend her. We have a murderer whose entire life is laid out to us, who plays both the sinister and the sweet with intensity. We watch them circle but as we focus on that, short side scenes are thrown at us which add and takeaway from what we think we know. And when the chase is over it’s these minutiae that are thrust into the spotlight.

What happens when we think nothing is happening…

Season 3 is all about those minute details. The first 5 episodes are an achingly slow expose of all the motivations and ramifications of what has gone before. There is no “action” per se. No car chases or daring escapes, no murderous nurses or corrupt coppers working for the defence attorneys to destroy evidence. There is just a cast of people trying to understand what has happened, why it has happened and how they need to respond to it. And the audience becomes a part of that process. We’re a witness to the murderous happenings of Season 1. We’ve followed the police through the official investigation Season 2. And in Season 3 we’re asked to review, to take apart and to reconsider. Season 3 is about us…

The show’s tension shifts from a fear of physical menace to a much deeper, less comfortable fear - the fear that justice may not be served, that the truth will not be enough and that our questions may never be answered. Week by week I found my perception challenged, my opinion slightly altered and as I went into the finale I was asking myself how I wanted it to end - how it could end? How on earth would they tie together five hours of minute nuance and complex motivation in a single hour?

And then it exploded in the simplest way possible.

The one thing that had been certain from the moment Paul Spector broke into Sarah Kay’s home was that he was a creature of incredible intelligence and brutal instinct. Yet somehow while we watched my friends and I, along with the shows doctors and lawyers and to an extent the police, had allowed ourselves to be lulled into a sense of security. His compliance through S3 had made me question his nature and intentions, even at moments to pity him. I never believed he should be forgiven but I questioned whether or not he could eventually find some sort of redemption…  which made watching what happened not only harrowing but incredibly personal. I felt personally misled and in some ways individually responsible for the situation which led to an explosion of grotesque and unflinching violence from a man we all knew was capable of such behaviour, but had all been too busy analysing to remember to fear.

Which is why The Fall is, in my opinion, such necessary viewing.

Bring Your Own Morality.

This is not TV for the faint-hearted or the impatient. It is not comforting or clean but rather raw and ragged and challenging. It is in many ways imperfect but it forces you as a viewer to go one step further in your TV experience.

To get anything out of The Fall one cannot simply sit and watch and wait to understand. It just doesn’t come together that way. You have to fight. You have to dissect and you have to engage. The heroes are flawed and the villains tug at your heart, the victims are liars and aggressors as well as innocents. You watch the seemingly infallible Stella Gibson make mistake after mistake and you wish for the simplicity of S1 where she was simply a feisty, no bullshit leader. You watch Spector fight his way back from death, try to reclaim his memories and identity and you wonder whether his horror when told of his past is disbelief at what he became in those 6 years or the fact that he can’t remember and revel in his crimes.

Your own morality is as much on trial as Spectors is.

At no point do the cast and crew offer you an easy out, a moment with a swelling soundtrack to remind you how to feel, or allow you the distraction of a romantic side-plot or a bumblingly humorous side-character. All you get is a series of small, intense happenings, a thrummingly tense score and an ensemble cast who put in a raft of stellar performances which threaten to blow you off the knife-edge of the main plot.

And then it’s over.

The still, brooding tension of S3’s first 5 episode is shattered in the most brutal, bruising fashion and we are left aching and clutching at ends which feel unfinished because… well they are! I never expected a warm and fizzy finale from The Fall but now that it’s over I don’t know why I even expected any sort of neat, satsfying ending. Because this is not a neat show.

Humanity is not neat. The survivors of a man like Spector do not wander off into a rosy sunset to lick their wounds, they stagger on, day by day, forever altered by what happened to them. His family, his surviving victims, the people who fought for and against him - all of them will be forever impacted by his existence. So to finish with Stella Gibson, exhausted but upright at her kitchen table, fresh flowers delivered by some friend with a note that I imagine says something like “Welcome back! Hope you had a successful trip to Ireland” seemed so very very appropriate. Sweet but trite, well intentioned but meaningless.

Beyond the credits Stella will go to bed and get up and go on with life, absorbing the events of The Fall into her personality. And I feel like that’s what Allan Cubbit asks of us as an audience.

Instead of giving us a glossy, slick 18 hours of television with carefully managed peaks and troughs of tension he gave us 18 hours of interlinking questions that it will take us weeks, months even, of flashbacks and water-cooler conversations to figure out how to respond to. He gave us a show that keeps strangers up talking until 2am on Twitter about the significance of a single scene. He gave us characters that lingered past their time on screen, whose development challenged us to reconsider over and again our first impressions.

Yes, The Fall is a show about a murderer and a policewoman but more than that it is a dirty, distorted mirror that reflects our opinions and expectations back on us, asking us if that first response is really the right one. The writing is dangerously sparse, the acting devastatingly good and the overall effect could have been disastrous, But it isn’t. It made me sit up and take notice. It made me question things a bout myself. There were things I hated, disagreed with but also things I never would have considered otherwise. The chances taken, on balance, paid off and the final result was me, sat on the edge of my sofa, watching the credits roll one last time, shaken, shattered and moved to the point of tears.

And for that I will always defend it as one of the bravest, most brilliant things I have ever seen.