#see her signature there? god bless people who sign their work. makes my job much easier

[birindale]

An early concept for a playset shown in Hope, Honor, Heart - An Expanded Look at the Origins of She-Ra. Justine Dantzer’s work of course, featuring Noble the silver reindeer, who apparently had something called a sunray energy blanket.

I’d be interested to know when this was drawn during the development process--I’m inclined to guess it was while Adora was still Leela/Sheila/etc. but that’s based purely on Noble’s incorporation. I’m blindly assuming they told her he was too edgy at the same meeting they told her “okay she doesn’t have to be Teela’s sister anymore”. Ergo she was free to incorporate elements of her own concept, Nova/Andromeda, who inhabited a “Crystal Tower” which bore a much stronger resemblance to the Crystal Castle than this prelim.

[malagacove]

Momma’s Boy

I used to get really embarrassed when I was a kid and my mom would tell these stories about how I was such a momma’s boy growing up. I was 13 years old trying to be cool and hang out with my cousins who were all 10+ years older than me when my mom would talk about the things I would say and do around her as a kid. She loved telling all of my cousins, and anyone who would listen really, about how when I was 5 or 6 I would sneak into her bed every morning after my dad left for work and cuddle with her until she had to get up to go to work. About how I would get in her bed and hold her hand, or lay on top of her, or give her kisses and tell her how much I loved her. My cousins would all laugh at me and call me a baby and I would be soooo embarrassed. She would always end this story by laughing and saying that when I was 3 years old and was talking a lot, I would never call her “mom” or “mommy” or “mami”, but instead, “mi amor”, because my dad would call her that. I probably thought that was her name lol. Imagine a three year old me, bowl cut, huge clothes, chubby cheeks, running around saying “mi amor” to my mom every 10 seconds. She would tell this story to so many people and would always laugh and grab me and give me a big kiss on my cheek at the end of it, knowing that it would leave a stain because of her signature red lipstick that she’s been wearing to every social gathering for as long as I can remember. I was always a momma’s boy.

My brother is 9 years older than me, and my sister is 15 years older than me. When I was starting school I would always see the other kids play with their brothers and sisters on the playground, and I wanted more than anything to have a brother or sister that was my age. I don’t remember much about my childhood (infantile amnesia, ha), but I do remember feeling lonely all the time. See, when I was 5 years old my brother was my best friend. I remember asking him to play his favorite CDs on the stereo he had in our room, and we would dance around and pretend to be punk kids while listening to Green Day’s “Dookie” on repeat. I didn’t know what any of the songs meant, but I was just happy to be having fun with my brother. This all stopped when my brother was getting into a lot of trouble at school, and he was getting involved with a lot of drugs and was putting my mom through hell. When he was 14, my mom and dad decided it would be better if he moved to Boulder, Nevada, with his biological dad, so that he wouldn’t be a bad influence on me. That might have saved my life. But this left me alone. Well, I wasn’t alone alone, my sister still lived in the house with us, but by this time she was already in her early 20s and had a full-time job and lived like an adult. I rarely saw her. She would wake up after I would leave for school but would be out past my bedtime. I would see her on the weekends, but it wouldn’t be for long because my dad didn’t work over the weekends, and she didn’t get along with him, so she wouldn’t be home. I say all of this to point out that the only person that I would really get to hang out with was my mom (and my dad). She knew that me growing up with such a huge age gap between me and my siblings was making me feel lonely, and she did everything possible to keep me entertained so that I wouldn’t let it get to me. God bless her.

I used to hate all of the things that my mom would sign me up for, and I never understood why I was involved in so many extra-curricular activities as a kid. Why was I the only brown kid in chess club? Why was I the only kid in tennis classes? Why did I go to West LA College at 10 years old to participate in college prep activities? Why did I have to go to kindergarten classes as a 10 year old and help the teachers read to their little ones? Why did I have to go to soccer camp every weekend during the summer when I just finished playing a regular season, and a travel team season? Nobody from my school went to these things, and I never knew why I had to do all of these things. My mom told me recently that I would never complain about going to these things, but I would complain about being tired all the time lol. She paid so much attention to how I was feeling that she knew that doing these things would keep me busy, and would more importantly, keep me cultured in a way that would educate me. I won a couple chess tournaments lol. I would have much rather just hung out with her at home, but she knew that I was too quiet as a child to ask for anything, so her putting me in these programs and courses would hopefully break me out of my shell a little. And looking back at those times, I had a lot of fun. I remember going to math camp at the high school when I was 10 years old and being so excited to grow up and have my own locker. I wanted so badly to belong to a big group of friends who were all nice to each other. That knew each other’s last names. That shared snacks. Really, I was just sick of being lonely. I would share all of these hopes and desires with my mom, and she would always tell me to not worry about growing up, because when I get there, I’ll wish I was still young. Like any kid, I would argue that she was wrong, and she would just smile and laugh. Like an angel. 

When I was in high school, I was really into skating. I had a big group of friends who all shared this passion with me, and we spent every day that we could looking for places around the city to skate at. Culver City had some decent skate spots surprisingly. The docks, paddles, crossroads, vets park, hill bomb culver crest, the alley behind the Fairbanks house, the stair set in front of xtreme, and so many others. I was always cautious of the places I was skating in, especially if we had to break into certain spots. El Rincon had a long black top that was freshly paved with that good concrete, but we got kicked out of there a few times. My mom has worked in Culver City her whole life, and through her job she has met hundreds of people. I remember every year she always knew one of the team moms on my soccer team, and that lady would end up taking me to practice a few times during the season. One time my friends and I decided we wanted to ditch school and go skate in Venice, so we all left after second period, jumped the fence and caught the bus to push to Venice. I had a system to get out of the truancy call that went to my mom’s phone, so I knew I wasn’t going to get in trouble. Or at least that’s what I thought. As soon as we got into the park, my mom called me, which was weird because she never called me during school hours. I texted her to ask her if everything was okay, and she texted back right away saying, “I know you’re not in school, call me.” ??? How did she know? She found out because a lady that she knew was getting off of the bus that I was getting on, and she just so happened to be on her way to my mom’s school, and she mentioned to her how she saw me getting on the bus with a bunch of my friends. What a snitch. Lol. Love. I called my mom and I got in soooooo much trouble. I insisted on lying and repeating that I was in the bathroom calling her, but she knew I was lying. She told me I was going to get grounded when she saw me, and I dreaded it so bad. When I saw her later that day, she asked me what I was ditching school to go do, and when I told her that we went to go skate, she got even more mad that I would skip school for something like that. She took my skateboard away. To a 15 year old me that was the worst thing anyone could do to me. I complained for days but they didn’t give it back to me. That week my friends went skating every day and I had to stay at my grandmas every day. I was so sad about it, that I walked to my mom’s job one of the days to beg for my skateboard back. She was keeping it at her school because that was the one place where I couldn’t steal it back from her. After arguing with her about it in the alley behind her job I (very dramatically) exclaimed, “You’re ruining my life!”, to which my mom had no response to. She just walked back inside her school without saying anything, and I knew right away that I should not have said that. The next day my brother asked me to meet him for lunch, and he explained to me that my mom told him about what I said, and she was really struggling with dealing with it. Apparently, my brother used to tell my mom those exact same words when they decided to have him move to Boulder with his dad. My mom thought that sending my brother to Boulder was going to save me, but she never thought about how it would strain her relationship with him. My brother grew to resent my mom and my dad for making the decision to send him over there, and he refused to talk to her for the first few months that he was out there. After understanding that, I realized that my mom did no real harm to me, and she didn’t deserve what I told her. That moment will live in infamy within my memory for my whole life. I have never, and will never, feel as much shame as I did in that moment. I love my mom to death, and I let such a small thing govern my whole ideology of her and said something that truly broke her heart. I apologized and promised her that I would never say anything to hurt her feelings ever again. I’ve kept that promise. Since that moment I have never said anything negative towards my mom, never kept any secrets from her, or never let her actions get the best of my emotions. She knows best and I’ve grown to understand that more and more, day by day since that happened. She knows all. She is all. 

I belonged to that group of kids who enrolled in college right after high school for the sole reason that their parents wanted them to. I had no idea what I wanted to do. I started off as a business administration major. That didn’t work out. I decided I wanted to become a real estate major. That was depressing. Like really depressing. I dropped out of school three weeks into that semester lol. I used to sit in the parking lot at school and eat chipotle while watching skate videos. Maybe like 5 weeks after I dropped out, I told my mom that I wasn’t going to school anymore, and where I expected her to be mad, she seemed worried. She knew that real estate wasn’t for me. I was too quiet to be a salesperson. Me dropping out coincided with the same time period of my life where I was going through my first real breakup. She sat me down at asked me how I was feeling and when I started to tell her that I didn’t feel like school was for me, she insisted that we talk about my breakup. I told her everything. She sat there with me and held me while I cried for hours. I talked about how I felt like I so desperately needed this girl back in my life and how I felt like I really could not carry on without her. We both knew that whatever advice that she could give me would not be beneficial to me, but she sat there with me anyways. After I stopped crying, she told me about how she had a boyfriend in her hometown at the time that my grandpa made the decision to move everyone to Los Angeles. She said that she cried for months upon getting here, and how she would stay up every night planning on how to get back to her hometown to reunite with her boyfriend. Then she said that one day she just woke up and it didn’t hurt as bad. And then days went by, and it hurt even less. Weeks. Months. Years. “Time heals all”, she said. I didn’t believe it in the moment, but I knew that it would eventually be true. I knew that it would eventually be true because my mom has never once in her life lied to me. My mom is the most truthful and genuine person that I have ever met. Months went by and I got over that breakup and realized that the best case scenario is the one that played out. Occam’s razor. They did what they did for their own reason, and now I am doing what I am doing for my own reasons. It’s as simple as that and I don’t regret a thing about it. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a friend from a past life of mine, and that’s all it is. It took a while for me to get to that way of thinking, but to that, I owe my mom. I owe it to her for giving me the strength to understand that. She did tell me that I needed to go back to school though. And I knew I had to. For her.

In late 2018/early 2019 my brother went through a series of health scares that were my mom’s worst fear. Overdoses, heart attacks, the virus. My brother was spiraling as a result of a breakup that he was going through, but the difference between him and I was that unlike me, he was impossible to get into contact with. After a few months, my brother was finally able to gain control of the situation and he started to do a lot better. My mom was still scared though, understandably. Weeks went by where he wouldn’t return anyone’s phone calls or text messages, and as a mother you can only expect the worst. I lost track of the number of times that I’ve gone to his apartment because I haven’t heard from him in days, and his ex-boyfriend would call my phone nonstop telling me that he had a client in 20 minutes and still hasn’t answered his phone. I lost track of how many times I walked up the stairs of his apartment, fully expecting to walk into his room and find him dead in his bed. At a certain point I refused to continue doing this. I blocked his ex’s number, threw away his keys, and told my mom that I would never go back to his apartment again without me knowing that he’s okay and that he’s expecting me. If I had to guess, I probably did this like 20 times. I can’t imagine how many times my mom did this. Once a month for 2, maybe 3, years? I can’t fathom the feeling of anxiousness and utter terror that must have been occupying her brain every time she did that. I used to ask my mom how she felt about the whole situation, and she would always tell me that she was never worried about finding him dead or something bad, but she just wanted to show him that she loved him. She loved him even though he never came to visit her. She loved him even though he never returned a single phone call or text message. She loved him even though he would kick her out of his apartment every time she went to go look for him. She loved him even if she felt like he didn’t love her. She will always love him. She said it didn’t faze her, but I know it did. From that point on, I made it a point to call her every single day. And I did. I do. Even if the phone call lasts 30 seconds. I just want to hear her voice and I want her to hear mine. If he’s not going to call her, she needs to know that I will. I look forward to my daily call with my mom every day. Truly. 

When I got into Dominguez, she was the first person that I told. It was a secret that I went back to El Camino to get my AA, so she had no idea that this was coming. I told her that I got a double degree in Psychology and she bursted into tears instantly. I could feel how proud she was of me. The same week she planned a whole surprise congratulations party for me, and I was genuinely surprised. I never get surprised, truly. I always know what’s happening around me, but she really got me. I suppose if it should be anyone that should get the pleasure of actually surprising me, it should be her. I’m grateful. School started and I took it as seriously as I could because I saw how much it meant to my parents. Semester after semester I kept bringing home A’s and I knew that it was going to work out. Two years of school and I would get my bachelor’s degree. I was doing it all for my mommy. I was powering through my degree. Extra units every semester. Winter and summer semesters. I really fell in love with school. I would go to school first thing in the morning and would be there until they closed. Sometimes I would get home close to midnight after studying at the library all night, and I would walk into my mommy sitting on the couch waiting for me to get home. “What did you learn today?” she would ask. I love talking to my mom about the things that I’m learning and talking about how we’re going to diagnose our family members after I get my degree. School quickly became my obsession and for the first time in my life I felt like I belonged in the spaces that I was in. I know that my mom could sense that when she looked at me, and I know that that made her happier than anything. She spent so many years when I was a child trying to find spaces for me to thrive in, and after 23 years, I finally did. This February, a year into my 2 year program, I met with a counselor who set up the happiest day of my life.She told me that I had enough credits to apply for graduation. I couldn’t believe it. I knew that I was doing good in school, but I had no idea that I was doing that good. I was set to finish a whole semester before I was supposed to. I couldn’t wipe the grin off of my face if you paid me all the money in the world. I remember telling my mom that day and celebrating with her, and us laughing because I had to explain it to my dad a few times before he understood that I was 3 months away from graduating university. She told me that she was extremely proud of me, and she was really happy for me. She also told me that she was happy for herself because she told herself that once I graduated college, she was going to retire. I was so happy. My mom has worked so hard for so many years, at a job that pays her less than what I make currently and has been stressing out about driving in traffic for way too long. 40+ years. Tooooo long. I wanted her to retire so badly. I have never had a prouder moment than when she told me that she was going to retire because of something I was accomplishing. I know this isn’t the same as retiring a parent because you can support them financially, but this was my version of this. Lol. I love my mom. She texted me during my graduation, “blow me a kiss”, and I did, and I was smiling so hard walking down that ramp. I graduated and she made it the biggest deal in the world. She told everyone. All of her friends. All of my family. She made sure that everyone that could possibly come to my graduation, came. She threw me a party after the ceremony and hosted a dinner at my favorite restaurant the next day. We laughed together, drank sangria, shared ceviche, and shared many, many smiles that night. It was finally time for her to enjoy life the way that she always wanted. She has set all of her kids up on their own paths to success, now she has all the time in the world to find out what she loves. I couldn’t be happier for my mommy. Life felt so good. I owe it all to her.

I graduated on Friday. We went out to eat on Saturday and on Monday I was sick. I had a fever of 103, a pounding migraine that lasted days, body aches, chills, everything. I was really worried that I got COVID, and even more worried that I could have possibly given it to my mommy. On Tuesday she came home early from work with a really bad headache. Wednesday, she came back again because of the headache. I for sure thought that I got her sick. I felt so guilty. Thursday, she spent all day at the doctor with my dad and I didn’t get to see her that day. When I got home from work, she was already asleep. It was now Friday, and she still had the headache. I was starting to get worried. She hadn’t eaten in two days. She could barely stand. I didn’t understand. I took four covid tests, and they were all negative. How could she be so sick? She spent all of Friday sleeping and crying about how much her head hurt, but right around when the sun started to go down, she fell asleep. Now its Saturday. I woke up and immediately walked out of my room to see how she was doing, and I found her asleep on the deck. I started crying instantly. I walked inside and found my dad cleaning their room, he was crying. He started to explain to me that for the last few months him and my mom had been to dozens of doctor’s appointments and my mom had done dozens of tests and biopsies and PET scans and fMRIs and CT scans and just about everything under the sun. He told me that the results from the final tests were going to come in on Tuesday, but that he needed me to be home later that night because he needed to sit down and talk to my siblings and I. I was a nervous wreck all day long. Full of anxiety up to my throat. The time came and we all sat together in the living room around my mom. She looked so weak and so pale. I have never been more afraid of anything. I’ve never been more afraid than I was at this moment at what was about to come out of this conversation. I sat there and just thought to myself “I love my mom. She has to be okay. She’s okay. She’s strong. She’s okay.” 

After like 15 minutes of small talk amongst our little family, my dad started crying and told us that we needed to get into what was going on. With the most scared look I’ve ever seen on his face he broke the news to us. 

Less than 20% functionality in one of her kidneys. Lung cancer. Brain cancer.

What do you mean? No really. What do you mean? My mom? MY mom? This is all happening to my mom? How? How is this happening to my mom? I’m looking at her right now, what do you mean all of these things are happening right now? That doesn’t make any sense. What are you talking about? My mom doesn’t drink alcohol. My mom doesn’t smoke. My mom doesn’t curse. My mom doesn’t even put salt in the food that she cooks. What do you mean that these terrible, insane things are happening to her right now? What the fuck do you mean? My mom has never hurt anybody. My mom has worked her entire life to make sure everyone she loves is happy. My mom has never made an enemy out of anyone. Everyone loves my mom. What do you mean? Seriously. What do you mean this is happening? My mom?

They found a clump of cancer cells in her lungs a few months ago. My mom has survived so much and has endured so much in her life that she thought that this was going to be another thing that was going to be a small worry but would end up okay. She told her doctor that she was going to continue to get whatever biopsies and tests needed to be done to make sure they had all the information, but she wasn’t going to start treatment until I graduated. 

Until IIIIIII graduated. 

Huh?

 She didn’t want me to get distracted and lose sight of what my goal was, so she decided to push off a potential early stage treatment until after I crossed stage. Lung cancer is especially dangerous for one main reason. It spreads. To the brain. 

My mom has more than fifteen (15) tumors in her brain. Stage 4 brain cancer.

All of a sudden, nothing else matters. Fuck everything else. Like, seriously. Fuck everything else that is going on. My mom has always been a fighter, but the week after my graduation I feel like I was looking at someone who had given up. She hadn’t eaten in days. Couldn’t walk on her own. Couldn’t stand up on her own. Couldn’t hold down water. Could hardly keep her eyes open long enough to see what was going on around her. Lost almost 10 pounds in a week. I pray to whatever deity exists out there, whatever force, that nobody ever has to see their mom how I saw her that week.  She was keeping a secret from us, and it was eating her alive. Literally. The night that she told us, I spent hours crying with my brother and sister, and even more time crying alone after everyone went to bed. My brain couldn’t process what was happening. It still can’t process what’s happening. A week ago my mom and I were taking shots of tequila, celebrating my proudest moment thus far, and I knew that it was her proudest moment too. Now she’s sick? Like sick sick. Like the sickest you could possibly be. What do you mean? Why?

She started treatment at the beginning of the month. Since then she has gained back all the weight that she lost, got her appetite back, no more headaches, no problem walking/standing on her own, can hold down her food, and more importantly she feels strong again. I’ve seen people that I haven’t seen in years come to my house to lend their support to her, and I’ve seen it physically and spiritually pick her up. The treatment they are doing is targeting her whole brain, since the tumors are all over. This treatment is the first of two that she is going to be participating in. The next one starts in a few days and is still an experimental trial. The treatment has shown very promising results in people of her age range (She’s 63 and the trials have been over 80% successful). The treatment that she is in now is every day, and the doctors told us about potential side effects occurring in the second half of the treatment (which she’s already in), and she hasn’t shown any side effects. She’s doing very good. Very very good. She’s expected to lose some cognitive abilities after this treatment ends, and some when she starts the next treatment in a few weeks. I’m scared. I’m scared because I know that she’s scared. In the last few weeks my parents have seen lawyers, notaries, and everyone necessary to drawing up living trusts and wills. I’ve never seen my dad so stressed. I know he hasn’t slept in weeks. He’s broken down a few times in front of me, which is always such an unsettling feeling, but I understand. He needs to get it out. He keeps telling me, and my mom, that he wishes this was happening to him instead. I can’t lie, that makes me so incredibly sad. Love manifests in weird ways. I know he’s scared. I love him too. 

I’m scared for the future. I don’t know how she’s going to feel in a few weeks. Even a few days. She’s been telling everyone that she doesn't want anyone’s perception of her to change. Like, she doesn't want people to come see her when (if she gets) really sick, because she doesn't want people’s memory of her to be that. That’s heartbreaking. Truly.

 I want to be that little kid again cuddling with my mommy and telling her how much I love her. I want to be small enough to fit in her arms. I want to be a kid and thank her for enrolling me in all kinds of things to help me pass the time. I want to be 9 years old and push the cart for her in the grocery store and not complain about going home. I want to be 13 years old in her passenger seat singing all of her favorite Julieta Venegas and Juanes songs. I want to be 9 months old touring her hometown with her. I want to be 10 years old standing in the living room with my mom getting fitted for my annual Harry Potter costume that she made me. I want to live it all again. I’m trying to live in the present. I’m trying my best to spend every moment that I can with her, but it also breaks my heart to look at her and know that she has to take all this medication and go to all these treatments and see all these specialists. I’m just scared.

But I’m optimistic. And full of hope. My mom has never lied to me, and when she tells me everything is going to be fine, I believe her. We have so much left to do, I know she’s going to stick around a lot longer. I wish these words were more structured, more purposeful, but I’m content with what I let go here. That’s what these “pieces” are for. Right? To let go. To get it out of your system and to let those feelings go. Allowing those thoughts to exist somewhere in the ether, away from your conscious mind. I release these thoughts. Aiming to become less stressed and worried so I can aid my mom in her journey. I love my mom. So much. Bless.

[joon-ipersgirl]

O7 - “the promising proposition”

genre: mafia!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, mystery-thriller

pairing: namjoon x reader (f)

word count: 5.1k

warnings: cursing (if i miss any, let me know!)

summary: charismatic. beautiful. fearless without question. the ambitious team of seven young men in charge of spiral, downtown district’s hottest new club go above and beyond to provide 100% satisfaction to their clients. 

after an eventful night out, you have no choice but to join the team for property damages greater than your intern salary. challenging a series of events that can no longer be left to coincidence, secrets threaten to burst at the seams as your professional and private life collide, and another - more sinister - debt is added to your total. 

how far are you willing to go to pay back your pound of flesh? remember, nothing is ever as it seems...

a/n: it’s been a minute but we’re back! winter break is here and i’m determined to write so here’s part 7 as i still work on my tae halloween fic (whew) and some more holiday related scenarios/oneshots. thank you all for being so patient and i hope you enjoy this next part. i only have one more pre-written part for this story so updates may be even slower lol. as always, send your reactions as they make me super happy lmao. thank you vi for beta-reading this and enjoy everyone!

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

The four of you sit in Manager Kim’s office, tense. Well, three as Paul had ruined his chances during last week’s meeting but you know he can feel the heaviness in the air as you wait for Madeline’s decision. She sits comfortably behind her large desk after calling you in to tell you who’d be assisting her on the Cavallero project. Her large, black fedora is propped on her head at a dangerous angle as she has her feet kicked up on her desk, her signature steel toed boots accentuating her full black outfit. You’d spent the previous days in the breakroom trying to figure out what made this project a higher priority than the rest of the contracts you’d acquired and who would be the lucky winner.

“Lovely of you all to join me, though Paul you were not really needed.” He tries his best to hide behind Laura from Manager Kim’s disappointed stare, but to no avail. “I know you all have been eagerly anticipating which one of you lucky interns will have the privilege of working with me on the first part of the Cavallero contract. You’ll find out shortly as his assistant will be dropping off the final notes on what he expects to see at the event; I’ll send one of you down to fetch him. We’ll have a brief meeting afterwards and then get to work. The rest of you will work under that person, following their orders diligently. Now, I need updates on the rest of our projects. Where are we?”

You barely listen as James rattles off what he was able to accomplish with the Emmerson’s engagement party. You think his design is doable, chic for an event planned in spring, but lacking in some of the finer details you know the future Mrs. Emmerson would appreciate; she’s a woman after your own heart with her love for champagne, meals created by chefs with Michelin stars, and exquisite fine china. Of course Madeline would pit you against each other for this job though. Not that you mind, you’re more than capable of fighting for what you believe is mine. It’s just less work when it’s given to you nicely packaged. Like the gifts you’re sure future Mrs. Emmerson would like to receive from her future husband’s wealthy friends.

“Y/N?” You focus back on Manager Kim who’s waiting expectantly, her glasses slipping down her nose. “The Williams’? What’s going on there? Or have you not made any progress?”

“The Williams have signed off on the zoo theme for their son,” James interjets before you can gather your thoughts. “We’re looking into finding the best face painters in the city and we’ve almost secured a catering contract for the 150 vegan cupcakes Mrs. Williams ordered. The invitations are currently being designed based on the chosen theme and will be ready for client approval next week.”

“Very good, James. Please send me a copy of your notes to be added into the file. Y/N, I expect better from you. That’s everything I have for today. You’re all dismissed,” she finishes with a wave of her hand, her glasses sliding down her nose once again as she searches for one particular document on her desk.

You don’t wait for the rest of them to follow as you make your way back to the tiny cubicle-like room you share. Manager Kim normally never calls you out in front of the rest of them and you’re fuming. Tossing down your legal pad, you whirl around as the three of them enter the room.

“What the fuck, James?!” you hiss as he calmly sits behind his desk and resumes typing on his computer.

“Looks like the Princess is upset,” Paul stage-whispers to Laura as he too sits down. You ignore him. He’s just as irrelevant beforehand as he is now.

“What do you need, Y/N? I have to send the notes from the meeting to Manager Kim,” James responds, not looking up at you. Your face further sours.

“You read my fucking files?! That wasn’t your event to handle and you know that!” you yell.

“Well, you took too long to respond -”

“I had barely opened my mouth -”

“- and Manager Kim needed a response, so I responded,” he finishes, ignoring your outburst.

“Y/N, please calm down. We don’t want to make a scene,” Laura pleads.

“Calm down? Laura, he made me look incompetent,” you argue.

“But you are, Y/N.” You pause and turn to James once again. Disbelief is written across your face as you stare each other down. You were the imcompetent one? “You should be ready to answer any question about any event J&M has going on whether it’s your’s or someone else’s. It’s not my fault that you were never taught the basics of efficiency in a company. The job has to get done and I completed the task. Simple,” he finishes. His incessant typing is all you hear as you stare at him. James had never been this bold before. Especially not with you.

“Watch your mouth, James,” you tell him coolly.

“Furthermore, your failure in that meeting shows that you’re incapable of handling bigger projects. I mean, you couldn’t recall the most straightforward details of a birthday party for a six-year-old child. Why should Manager Kim trust you to work on the coveted Cavallero contract? You’ve given her no reason to. All you’ve done is eliminated yourself from the running, effectively leaving Laura and I. Which is no challenge because -  no offense Laura - you’re not really competition. I just hope you guys can maange when my hands are full with this project.”

You laugh as Laura cowers. You weren’t sure whether it was from the sound or James’ particularly harsh words, but the atmosphere in the room was much worse than in the meeting. Biting back the words you really wanted to tell him, you heed Laura’s advice and decide to not cause a scene. This is a professional establishment and you need this job. There are goals you want to accomplish and you wouldn’t let a slimy bastard like James Carter distract you. He’d finally shown his true colors - what he really thought of you - and you’re only grateful the others had been around to witness it.

“Alright, James. It seems like you’ve been holding back on us. Just remember: a word once let out of a cage cannot be whistled back again,” you tell him as you resume your duties at your desk. Flipping open a new page of your legal pad, you write neatly at the top: Emmerson Engagement. If James thought he had bested you, he had another thing coming.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Laura asks as she joins you in the staff room for lunch.

“Never better,” you reply, sipping on your iced coffee as you warm your leftover lasagna in the microwave. Gods bless your sweet, sweet roommate.

“What James said to you this morning was pretty harsh,” she says as she makes herself a steaming cup of green tea. Always the health conscious one that girl.

“James seems to be tired of our shit,” you chuckle. “I’ve heard worse though, Laura. Don’t worry about me. He said some pretty harsh things about you, too.”

She nods. “I didn’t think he could be so mean! And counting me out?! I worked really hard on my designs!” Laura’s voice doesn’t sound too sure, but you nod in agreeance.

“Your bridal party design last spring was very well done,” you tell her around a mouthful of lasagna.

“Exactly!” she says in a huff as she plops down across from you, nearly burning herself in the process. “And your event was really good too! The one you did a few months ago,” she trails off. You laugh.

“Which one was that?”

“You know, the one for the family with that really fancy theme? And lots of people came...”

“Oh, the Winter Wonderland scene on the ice rink?”

“Yes, that one!” she exclaims.

“That was Marie’s project before she got transferred to Jenson’s team,” you say with a laugh. Laura almost chokes on her tea as you wipe your mouth clean. “No need for you to try and make me feel better by pretending to remember something I’ve worked on. I’m honestly fine,” you chuckle again.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry -”

“Y/N?” James stands in the doorway looking quite displeased. You raise your eyebrows at him in response. “Manager Kim would like to see you in her office. Please make it quick as I’m going to get Mr. Cavallero’s assistant soon.” You laugh loudly.

“Of course, James. I’ll be sure to let Manager Kim know you’d like her to rush her meeting for your convenience.”

He scowls as you brush past him, your half-eaten lunch and coffee in hand. Mercury must be in retrograde for James to think that he can make demands of you any type of way. It seems that you need to put him back in his place; he’d gotten too comfortable with the little office jokes you all shared. Grabbing your legal pad and pen, you smooth down the little flyaway hairs and your white button down shirt; you couldn’t receive another lashing looking unkempt. Knocking on the door, you wait for Manager Kim to answer before you enter.

“You asked to see me, Manager Kim?”

“Yes. Please take a seat, Y/N. I’ll be with you in a second,” she replies as she finishes typing on her computer. You sit gingerly in the unoccupied chair as you’d done this morning and wait for her to rip into you. “Right. Let’s get to it. What was that this morning?” You inhale deeply.

“Honestly, I was thinking about James’ event and mentally noting changes I would make as possible suggestions to him when you called on me. I wasn’t dozing off because I was bored,” you answer.

“Hmm. And what changes would you have made?” she asks curiously as she gives you her undivided attention.

“Well, the future Mrs. Emmerson is a woman of prestige. Class. While roses are a classic choice, white tulips are pre-on-trend and I think she would enjoy being a part of that group. He also chose the Dom Perignon champagne, but I thought Veuve Clicquot would be the better option. High price doesn’t always mean high flavor. I do agree with his choice of venue though. The high ceilings will look great in the low afternoon light and the white lights in the evening will make for great photos,” I finished. “But of course, the client is always right and if this is her chosen design, we’ll go with that.”

Manager Kim stares at you until you start to feel slightly uncomfortable under her gaze. You know you hadn’t overstepped and she had asked for your honest opinion, but when sitting in front of one of the best event designers in the game, second guessing yourself is inevitable.

“You didn’t think to say anything earlier in the meeting?” she asks.

“I wasn’t aware that giving opinions on other people’s events was ideal during a regular updates meeting.”

“You should speak up more. Your ideas aren’t as bad as you think they are,” Madeline says as she leans back in her chair. “How else do you expect to lead any major project?”

Just as you’re going to respond, a knock sounds at the door. “Come in!” Manager Kim yells.

“Should I leave? James did say he was going to collect Mr. Cavallero’s assistant,” you trail off, getting ready to stand.

“No. No, you’re fine,” she says with a wave of her hand. “Ah, Mr. Carlisle - oh! And Mr. Cavallero! What a surprise! I didn’t know you would be joining us,” Manager Kim says as she stands and you follow suit.

“I happened to have some free time and decided to tag along as Lewis was dropping off the notes. I hope you don’t mind. I thought it would be helpful to have me here in case you had any questions that needed direct attention,” Mr. Cavallero responds. “And please, call me Jonas.”

Mr. Cavallero, or Jonas as he would like to be referred to, is dressed in his typical big spender suit: a deep navy blue suit with a pristine white buttoned-down shirt and pre-released Versace patent leather monk strap shoes. His aura fills the entire space, though he only stands in the doorway of Madeline’s office. You can practically feel the gel between your fingers as you look at his salt-and-pepper slicked back hair; the sheen is almost as bright as his shoes.

“And Miss Y/L/N, yes? What a pleasure to see you again. Will you be sitting in on this meeting as well? Lewis could only sing your praises after you left,” he asks. You struggle to keep your face neutral as James’ searing gaze washes over you. You know Manager Kim’s ears must be red as her secretive meeting is foiled by her best client.

“Actually, I was just -”

“- going to bring the file for the event as you were previously suggesting. Right, Y/N?” Manager Kim says as she turns to you with a stiff smile. “You are our chosen intern, afterall.” You can barely contain your gasp as she says the words. You had gotten the contract?! James does not try to hide his shock at her statement as his eyes widen and his mouth nearly falls open.

“It’ll be a pleasure working with you again, Miss Y/L/N,” Mr. Carlisle says with a smile.

“Of course,” you reply with a deep head nod. “I look forward to working with you both as well. I’ll be back with your file shortly.”

“Thank you, Y/N. And thank you James for going to get them. You may leave now,” Manager Kim adds as she turns her attention back to her guests, inviting them to sit and make themselves comfortable.

You walk calmly, though you feel anything but that, across the room as James holds the door open for you. Pleading with the gods to be on your side, you race ahead of him to the breakroom for fresh, new bottles of water - a sight to see in a knee length pencil skirt and the infamous 4-inch stilettos that are apparently still required in this day and age. Your office is filled with hushed whispers until you round the corner and enter the small room.

“You got the Cavallero project?!” Paul exclaims. “Holy shit! You’re better than I thought, Y/N!” You laugh as you search your desk for the copy of the previous plans you’d developed from that day’s secret meeting.

“Congratulations, Y/N!” Laura cheers, bouncing up and down. “Your first real major project. Isn’t that exciting, James?”

“Sure. If you can be happy for someone who fucked her way to get the position,” he says biterrly. “Lewis could only sing your praises after you left?” James scoffs. “Sounds like you worked really hard in that meeting.”

“James!” Laura gasps.

“Oh it’s fine, Laura. If you think that James, I can’t stop you,” you say with a shrug. “But I’ll be happy to discuss my scandalous sex life with you after I meet with our coveted client.”

You prance out of the office with a smug smile on your face. Of course James would resort to a low blow because he didn’t get what he wanted; he was worse than the six-year-old child he had reprimanded you about. Tucking the fake file under your arm as the real one is still in Madeline’s office, you carry the bottles of water back to the meeting. After passing the bottles to your clients, you stand diligently behind Manager Kim with your notepad at the ready.

“Please Miss Y/L/N, take my seat,” Jonas says, standing.

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“I insist. I do my best thinking standing up.”

“He does this often in his office,” Lewis agrees. Glancing at Manager Kim, you gingerly sit down on the end of the chair after thanking Jonas again.

“You had mentioned that you enjoyed the designs Y/N had developed, but as you know these are drafts and can be changed as you deem fit, Mr. Cavallero. Are there any things that come to mind or can we work on finalizing these details?” Madeline asks. You watch as Jonas strides around the office, seemingly in thought.

“You proposed hosting the event at one of the upscale hotels downtown, but I was wondering if you had any other options. We want the environment to feel lavish, but not over the top,” he replies. “I was actually thinking of something -” he pauses “ - more intimate.”

Writing down his wishes, you rack your brain for places that fit his description. Most clients of his caliber wanted something extravagant, but Jonas was proving to be a very different man. Quite the surprise that you were not expecting. “Would you like something with more modern architecture or classical?” you ask.

“I have always been a fan of French architecture; the European style also seems to be popular among our own clients. Most of them come from European backgrounds,” Jonas answers.

“They might find the interior design reminiscent,” Madeline thinks aloud and jots it down.

“It could be very good for signing contracts, sir,” Lewis adds.

“I may have a suggestion. Chateau’s is a little outside of the city, but the view is magnificent. It’s family owned so that may benefit you with your clients as well. It also has a rooftop that would look great in the afternoon sun as well as the late evening should the event last longer than expected,” you suggest. “I’ve also read great reviews saying that the food is well prepared too.”

“This could lower your costs for your first event and more money can be reserved for the benefit gala you’re also organizing,” Madeline sneaks in. She’s right, of course. A benefit gala planned by Madeline Kim would require much more than what Mr. Cavallero had said he was okay with spending, but he didn’t need to know that right now.

“Hmm,” he ponders turning around. “This sounds doable. I’d like to see what you can come up with for designs for this new place as well as scheduling a visit to see it for myself. All of this can be done before the initial deadline of securing a venue, yes?”

“Absolutely,” Madeline responds and you keep your composure as you review your mental calendar of events knowing this would be difficult to pull off. Brunch is scheduled a month and a half from today’s date meaning you had to somehow convince Chateau’s to take on your client, create an acceptable menu, and allow you to make any decorating changes within two weeks to make the deadline. Madeline is batshit crazy, but it would have to get done to secure the benefit gala - the whole reason for the company even accepting this contract.

“I can have all the details typed and sent to you within the next week. I’ll also keep the downtown hotel as an option if Chateau's is unavailable for your intended date. I’m sure we can use the rooftop of a hotel to create an intimate setting that your guests would enjoy,” you add. “I would also like to request the location of the benefit gala. I understand this is a very important event for your law firm and I would like to begin drafting plans for your approval at the earliest convenience.”

“Yes, of course. We use the Finca Corte as they have the best grand ballroom in the city. Lewis, please send Miss Y/L/N the past itineraries of the event so she may have a better understanding of the atmosphere we wish to create for our guests.” Lewis nods and makes his own notes, before his wrist watch alarms.

“Ah, Mr. Cavallero. Your 4pm meeting is on time this afternoon. We should leave now so you aren’t late,” Lewis warns. Jonas nods and you all stood to say your goodbyes.

“Please, if you need anything, reach out to Lewis and he’ll get in contact with me so I can answer any of your questions,” Jonas says with a smile as he shakes your hands.

“Of course, Mr. Cavallero. Please feel free to do the same,” Madeline replies though you can hear the tightness in her voice and for the third time, you wonder what her relationship is with Jonas. They had to have had some history for her to always seem on edge in his presence.

“Let me walk you both downstairs,” you offer. J&M isn’t as large as Hastings and Lewis, but there are many twists and turns on each floor that guests could get lost in.

You don’t turn your head as you pass your tiny office space and head for the elevator. You wouldn’t give any of those fuckers your attention in the presence of high quality clientele. It’s cramped inside but not uncomfortable as you ride down from the fourth floor. Jonas turns to you once again as you stand in the lobby.

“Again Miss Y/L/N, if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. Lewis would be happy to answer any of your questions if you can’t get in contact with me,” he says and hands you his business card.

“I actually did have one question before you go. Well two actually. Finca Corte - it isn’t a chain, is it? Just one location?”

“Right. On 17th and Main near the Grande Theatre, but the next block over,” Jonas replies.

“And there’s no need to call and reserve the date? The notes Lewis had given us hadn’t mentioned anything about the date or a deposit,” you state.

“No, the firm takes care of those details. The benefit gala is always reserved for the third Saturday in May every year,” Lewis responds. Three months from now, you think.

“Oh, wonderful. I know you have to get going so I’ll email you any other questions, Lewis. Thank you again. Please return to the firm safely,” you say cheerly and wave. They return it and you wait for them to get into their sleek town car before you let your face fall into a frown. You’d never been to or heard of Finca Corte before, but why did the location seem so familiar? You try not to dwell on it too much as you head back upstairs. There are more pressing matters at hand, like putting James back into the roach-infested place he’d crawled out of. You grin as you head off the elevator.

Rosalia greets you as you enter the old two-bedroom apartment you share. Slipping off your heels that you’re sure has blood crusted into the toes from excessive wear, you scratch behind her ears as she purrs. She’s one of the better things to happen to you in your life and you’re grateful for her little pieces of affection even though you’re positive she had made some attempts to smother you in your sleep so she could have your bed.

“You’re home?” Amaya calls out from her hidden position on the couch.

“Yeah! Did you make dinner?” you ask as you follow your nose to the kitchen where a large pot stews on the stove.

“Of course I did. We all know you’d starve if I didn’t cook,” she says as she bumps you out of the way to check on the food. You mock her as you sit down at the antique metal table that you rarely ate at, choosing to have your meals in the much more comfortable living room on the sofa.

“I could survive!” you yell, trying to defend yourself, but Amaya isn’t having it.

“You couldn’t. Was the lasagna okay today, though?” she asks, changing the subject.

“The best. You should really consider opening a restaurant and forgetting all this computer engineer stuff,” you tell her seriously.

“Ha! As if that would pay off these loans. Either way, this is an investment. Once I’m done with this degree, I’ll be able to program computers to make these dishes for me and rake in a ton of money to get us out of this place,” she says with determination.

Amaya is a third year computer engineering student at Oberman University. Surprisingly smaller than you, she carries as much kick as you do, the two of you getting into numerous instances of mild misdemeanors. Amaya had actually hacked a few systems after she had found out that you weren’t really registered for classes at the University so you could get some credit; she’s a computer genius. Thanks to her, you technically have an Associates degree, but of course Oberman would never grant it to you unless you actually re-enroll. Amaya doesn’t take anyone’s shit though she looks like she’s 12 with her big green eyes and short blunt bob, the bangs a little too long and falling into her eyes.

“Thank you for including me in your plans for world domination, Aya,” you say while taking your hair out of your bun.

“Of course. You know you’re family to me, even though you leave your fucking dishes in the sink,” she replies while placing a piping bowl of beef stew and white rice in front of you. You thank the gods for her as you tuck in, burning your tongue in the process.

“I love you. So, so, so much.”

“Are you talking to me or the stew?” she asks with a laugh as she blows her food to cool it down. You laugh in response. “How was work? Oh my gosh, did you get the project?!”

You grin and nod. “I did!” She squeals in delight and claps her hands. “Though James was extremely displeased. He actually called me incompetent -”

“Hold on. He called you incompetent? Has he seen his progress report? And wasn’t he the one that forgot to submit his file that made that whole project you did a few months ago late?”

“Right. He was so shocked when Madeline announced it was me, even insinuated that I fucked my way to get the position. Kim was heated that Jonas mentioned our meeting while he was in the room though because it was supposed to be a secret,” you explain.

“Of course he would say something like that.” She rolls her eyes. “There seem to be a lot of secrets happening around you. Speaking of which, when do you head back to Spiral to snoop?” Amaya asks. “Do you think you can find anything in the hallway? Maybe you should break into Suga’s office or something,” she suggests.

“Friday night and I don’t think Suga would leave anything lying around like that for me to see again, not after I’m pretty sure he caught me reading his papers a few weeks ago,” you reply, pushing the rice around the plate. That had been extremely careless and might have killed a lead to your mini investigation before it had even begun.

“The one with all that information right? Gosh, I wish you had my photographic brain, that way you could have written down what you had seen and we could solve this whole mystery,” she groans.

“Oh no, Aya. I don’t want you getting involved with this. It seems way too dangerous and you -”

“- have my whole life ahead of me. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. But I want to know where this guy went. Like what if he’s still out there and looking for you?” she questions.

“I know, I know. I don’t want you worrying about it though. I can handle it,” you promise. “I feel like I’ve seen the address before though, but I can’t figure out where.” You rub your forehead as if you could magically make the numbers appear in your mind again. Aya’s photographic memory really would have come in handy.

“What about the date?” Amaya asks. “Or the name? You said the name was weird, unusual.” You nod. What had it said?

“There was a date, a location, and a name with an amount of money. Like a contract or something,” you sigh. “It looked really similar to the ones we have at work. Fuck. I don’t know. Between this and planning the benefit gala, my brain feels like it’s going to explode.” Amaya laughs as she finishes her dinner.

“Please don’t hurt yourself. It’ll come to you,” she says, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “Well, I have Calc 3 homework to finish and these theorems won’t do themselves so I’ll see you in the morning. Wash your fucking plate,” she finishes and pointes her finger at you. You hold up your hands in surrender as she leaves hers in the sink for you to clean. It’s the least you can do as she made all your meals.

Grabbing your purse and lugging it behind you after washing the dishes, you head to your room, Rosalia following in tow. Surprisingly, your bed is still intact which means that Amaya had made sure Rosalia hadn’t gotten into your room. Bless her. Not that there was much to get into as you the minimum possessions a person could have: a bed, a few photos, and enough clothes to last you a few weeks without doing laundry. You place your files and notepads onto your bed, eager to go and take a shower before organizing your notes in preparation for the debrief you would no doubt have to give to the rest of your colleagues tomorrow.

“Was your day as long as mine, Rosalia?” You scratch her head as she hops up on your bed and makes herself at home between your papers, a few of them scattering to the floor. “Apparently not as you want to make mine even longer,” you murmur as you bend to pick up the loose sheets of today’s meeting notes from the Cavallero project. You pause.

Jonas. That was the name that was on top of the paper in Suga’s office. What would be the odds that the Jonas on the paper would be the Jonas Cavallero you were working for? If that Jonas was the same Jonas, then was the location on the paper one of the events you were working on? How would Suga have that information? You sit against the side of your bed. Unless -

Yanking your phone out your purse’s side pocket, you google “Hastings & Lewis benefit gala”. Just as you’d suspected, the information is public knowledge: the third Saturday of May at the Finca Corte. There is no way in hell that Spiral is catering that event; they weren’t ritzy enough to be hired by the likes of one of the most expensive hotels in the city for one of the biggest events on the city’s calendar. Something is going on and you just know all of this is connected somehow. You just need proof. Maybe Maya is right. You’d broken into a few places before. How hard could it be to get into Suga’s office?

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

ⓒ joon-ipersgirl, 2020

[anika-ann]

Nothing but the Truth - Pt.1

The Photo Evidence

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader        Word count: 2480

Summary: A fake dating AU. Be sure that when you have one lunch outside the Tower, you will be found and accused of dating Steve Rogers, aka Captain America. Yep, that’s just your luck.

Warnings: swearing, fluff...?

Story Masterlist

“So…” Tony crossed his arms on his chest, raising a challenging eyebrow, making you sink into your seat. He stood next to the hologram, staring you and Steve down with a glare so intense you thought he might have got possessed by a demon or something, because since when was Tony Stark able to look like a disappointed parent? That was Steve’s domain as far as you had been informed! “Either of you have anything to say for yourself?”

You gulped, averting your practically-boss’ gaze and pressed your lips into a thin line as your fingers fumbled with the hem of your blouse.

“So? Just so you know, the press is loving this. They have a freaking field day,” Natasha added, crossing her arms as well and you truly felt like you were five and were being hauled over the coals, your father and now your mum giving you a hard time over a broken vase or something.

You eyed Steve, who shifted in his seat, his eyes fixed on the photograph. He didn’t utter a word and you bit your lower lip, wondering what was on his mind.  

You would love to say that you had no idea how this happened.  

Except you had every idea.

Meeting Steve in the lobby just outside the cafeteria, you couldn’t help but smile up at him and he returned the favour, a crinkle of green in his blue eyes.

There had been a time you had been intimidated by him – it had taken you several encounters to lose the stiffness in your shoulders, the barely audible tremble in your voice (that was when you actually found the courage to speak) – but now, seeing him almost every day, welcoming him with the corners of your lips upright felt like a second nature.

After all, he was one charming bastard. And what worse, he was a gentlemanly, honest and witty bastard, who was one of Sam’s closest friends, if not the best one; replacing you, which... okay, you could be Sam’s best female friend, you were alright with that.

You and Sam went a way back; you had been the first person to welcome him at the VA centre and as he was yet another charming bastard, even at that time, you instantly hit it off, mostly because of him; it was near to impossible not to seek his company, he was like… like some sort of a life-charger.

If you were being honest, there was a time when you thought you might even become more than friends, because who were you kidding, that man was ridiculously attractive, but when you met… he was still healing from losing his wingman and a relationship was the last thing on his mind. And later… you were too deep into your friendship, friend-zoned for eternity and too comfortable with each other, you guessed. You were alright with that and you wouldn’t trade his friendship for the world.

And then the world turned crazy, Sam had a literal run-in with Captain America, became at first a part-time and then a full-time Avenger and practically dragged you to the Avengers Tower to apply for a job in administrative. You had been hired on spot despite still being employed at the VA. But seeing as it was the only way of keeping Sam and your lunches together and as you weren’t too opposed to a change of scenery…

Sam introduced you to Steve way too early and against your will. Well, not that you didn’t want to meet the Captain, alright, but he was the kind of man that was not running in the same social circles – until recently – as you and Sam just brought him to one of your friendly lunch dates in the Tower cafeteria and nearly shook your hands for you. Which was… odd. You were rendered speechless and you didn’t say a word during the whole lunch.

However, Sam apparently had a vision in his head, needing his two besties going along perfectly and lunches in three became a regular thing so you would crawl out of your shell. And funnily enough, it worked and you and Steve fell into a rather easy friendship, most of that happening when Sam had been called away and you were forced to have lunch without him. You might have started to enjoy those even more than when he tagged along.

Which brought you back to today.

“Hey, Steve. No Sam today?”

He shook his head and you swore there might have been a tiny eyeroll to go with that gesture.

“Tony needed him, because of the Falcon wings. Urgently,” he emphasized, making you chuckle at the billionaire’s insistence. It didn’t surprise you, you heard of that infamous feature of his enough times.

You most definitely did not run in the same circles as the Avengers, unless they were Steve or Sam; sure, you had met them, because Sam was a mingler who mingled and adored you enough to insist on introducing you – bless his soul – but just because you worked at the Tower, it didn’t mean that you were in everyday contact with the Earth’s mightiest heroes. You were nothing but an office rat, one of way too many at the Tower, one wheel in the huge machine that was needed to run Stark Industries, which founded most of the Avengers’ work.

You just happened to be Sam’s – and if you dared to say it, Steve’s – friend.

“Where are you today?”

You blinked as he held the glass door opened for you, smiling at him in thanks and snapped back to reality.

“Huh?”

“You keep zoning out on me. Anything… troubling you?” he asked gently as he fell to the line with you, ignoring the menu boards in favour of scanning your face for signs of distress. He was sweet like that.

You just shook your head, deciding on partly admitting the truth; partly, because you knew he wouldn’t be happy to hear you say anything resembling him being out of your league (of any kind of social interaction) and you wondering how the hell that happened.

“Eh, just remembering when we started getting lunch here,” you shrugged, eyeing the menu absently. “You know, all three of us?”

He hummed in affirmation, following your suit. “You wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Can you blame me?” A gorgeous man and a hero, biceps size of a bowling ball? With a smile that might as well serve as a powerstation with its brightness? “I was a bit stark-stuck, cut me some slack.”

“You wouldn’t talk to me until the third lunch.” Your heart stopped. He remembered the number of lunches? Worse, he remembered that at all? You felt your face get hot. Not in a pleasant way. “Sam was trying so hard to get us to talk and laugh, but it wasn’t working until-“

“Don’t,” you basically growled over your shoulder, only to see his signature shit-eating grin. Why had you ever thought he was a virtuous man?

You placed a soup on your tray and moved over to the salads.

“-until you attempted to stab a tomato-“

On a second thought, you weren’t in the mood for a salad today-

“-and it landed in my plate.”

“I hate you,” you mumbled, turning around with your tray, only to feel a bump from your side, causing you to sway the tray hazardously.

You would have been able to balance it and save it, but the soup was fucking hot as it splashed from the bowel to your abdomen and your hand and with a yelp, you let go of the tray in order to pull the burning-hot material of your blouse from your skin, your afflicted hand shaking wildly in attempt to cool itself at least a bit.

Before you could fully comprehend what was happening, you heard a shattering noise as the tray hit the ground, a ‘shit’ and a ‘sorry’ and you were being cooled down from a bottle of water which Steve charmed out of fucking nowhere, the cool liquid like a balm on your burned skin.

Yeah, you were soaking and you’d feel like dying of embarrassment because of people probably watching you later, but at the moment, you adored Steve for his quick reactions.

He was asking for another bottle of water, but you stopped him with a simple raise of your hand, eyes closed as you breathed through the pain; less sharp, but still present.

Whoever you had collided with was long gone, the staff eyeing you with concern and already rushing to you with cleaning supplies. Steve’s gentle hand led you away from the mess, brows furrowed as his eyes kept flickering from your face to spy in how much pain you were, to your slowly reddening burns.

“Let’s get you to the bathroom and then get you some dry clothes, okay?” he whispered over the buzz of cafeteria and nodded at the staff as they dismissed you both with a wave of a hand. You felt a different kind of burn in your face as many, way too many people stared at you.

You were sure some of them were cackling, you noticed even when you tried your best to keep your gaze glued to the ground; when you looked up and saw their gaze travel up a bit, whatever mean smile they had froze on their lips and they swiftly minded their business again. You only guessed that they had met Captain America’s disappointed glare; you had seen it, never been at the receiving end, luckily, but you didn’t blame them one bit and you were immensely grateful to Steve for not letting you do your walk of shame – in which you were an utterly innocent participant – alone.

He waited in front of the ladies’ room until you cooled your burns again, walked you to your office where you stored an extra set of clothes just in case of whatever and offered you an apologetic smile and soft ‘I’m sorry’ on his lips.

“…what are you sorry for?” you asked him, utterly confused and it distracted you for a minute from the embarrassment that had come knocking at the door of your mind. Christ, how many people saw your little scene? Did anyone snap a picture?

“If I haven’t been teasing you about the-“

“Oh my god, Steve,” you groaned when you caught up, your hand landing on his bicep on autopilot, a gesture to get him shut up, which was something you were used to from when you wanted to silence Sam whenever he was being stupid.

You quickly snatched your hand away when you realized that the sensation was slightly different, the bicep under your palm felt just a bit thicker and firmer than usual and you had in fact very much groped Steve.

Great, now both of your hands felt like on fire.

You gulped, hoping foolishly that he hadn’t noticed your slip. You had noticed, okay. You would have very interesting dreams tonight…

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you added.

He frowned, dissatisfied, but then his face lightened up. “Come on. Let’s grab a lunch-“ you froze at the horror image of you coming back to the hellhole of cafeteria only about a half an hour after you giving them the super-awkward show. “-somewhere. I’m paying. What are you in the mood for?”

And he asked with such cute inviting smile, his eyes shining, that stupid green spark dancing in blue sea and you didn’t even have the heart to point out that you hadn’t crashed into anyone, but had in fact been crashed into, let alone to tell him no.

It ended in a lovely lunch date and it… kinda felt like a lunch date, his long fingers gingerly checking on your burned hand at one point which wasn’t hurting at all anymore because he was your hero and… yeah, you might have been crashed into, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore that you had a freaking crush on Steve Rogers.

Thinking about it, the photo did make it look like a date as well. So, you didn’t really blame that the tabloids plastered it over the front pages with Steve being who he was and him usually keeping his private life secured as Fort Knox. This was huge and would have been even huger if it wasn’t one big misunderstanding caused by a ridiculous game of chance.

“It was, eh, a coincidence, honestly. One thing led to another, we had a little incident in the cafeteria-“ Steve finally started to explain and you felt just the tinniest bit of the burden that had seated itself on your chest when you had been called into the small conference room disappear.

You had utterly and truly freaked out at the idea of explaining to Tony Stark and his PR why did every tabloid and some newspaper too now – only a day after, less than 24 hours in fact – thought that you were Steve’s girlfriend. One of the reasons being that you were not running in the same circles as the Iron Man, not really knowing him, another one that at some point you would have to admit how stupid it all was, because hello? You were no one special. How had they even drawn a conclusion like that?

Eyeing the photo, you were reminded exactly how.

Steve could apparently be very tender when he wanted to, which was by some miracle visible in the photo and in return, you might have been looking at him like he was the eighth wonder of the world. In addition, he had a teeny-tiny soft smile on his lips and the way his brows knitted in concern was not helping the whole situation.

Speaking of Steve’s tender fingers, they were connected to a large hand, to an impressive forearm and a massive bicep you had possibly dreamt about last night-

“Well, normally I’d say don’t tell me, tell the PR,” Tony smirked shortly and sighed. “But…”

Uh-oh. You did not like the ‘but’. What did the ‘but’ mean?

“…but this in fact might be a blessing,” Natasha finished, resigning to her posture of a disappointed mum and relaxing.

Huh?

You were confused to no end by their cryptic talk. Shooting Steve a look, you were slightly relieved to see that he seemed to share the sentiment.

He was also apparently at loss of words.

So were you, but you managed to stutter out two: “…what? How?”

Tony grimaced and with a motion of his hand, ten different faces, five different men and five women, each in an individual frame, paired up as the line of men was on top (rude) and the women below them, appeared in the hologram, replacing the infamous photo evidence of your supposed relationship with Steve.

You still didn’t understand. And what Tony Stark said next didn’t help either.

“Because we need your help.”

Part 2

‘I solemnly swear I’ll work on that fic I’ve been promising to finish for ages.’

Eh, failed again.

For some reason, Smallville popped up in my mind recently (I blame Tom Welling’s cameo in the mega DC crossover). This fic is inspired by episode 8x05 ‘Committed’, if it means anything to anyone :D

Also, fake dating was on my non-existent to-do writing list.

Enjoy and leave feedback if you’re willing :-P

Tags:

@mermaidxatxheart​

If anyone wishes to be added or removed from the tags, let me know, it’s no trouble.

[goforwardgreenwriter-blog]

The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 5 - 6

“Last chapter was probably my favorite, and gave me hope that maybe everything won’t be so bad.” -a fool’s last words.

Aelin stared and stared at that piece of paper, at the names that had been signed long before tonight, the men who had decided against her without meeting her, the men who had changed her future, her kingdom, with just their signatures.

I feel like SJM is trying to make us feel sorry for Aelin, but.... no? She hasn’t proved herself worthy of being a queen at all! She flat out admits that these men have never met her - does she really expect these people to hand over the throne of their kingdom to someone they’ve never met?!?!?! WHAT IS gOING ON WHERE IS THE LOGIC

Aelin breathed, “Our doom gathers in the South of Adarlan—yet this is what you focus on?”

Umm yeah because the ruler of the kingdom is a very important job and one that is needed for war?? They need a strong leader to help guide them through the upcoming battles, Darrow is absolutely right to be concerned about this.

“The Bane,” Darrow spat, “is now ours to command. In the event that there is no fit ruler on the throne, the lords control the armies of Terrasen.”

You go Darrow! He’ll be the leader Terrasen needs and defend his kingdom while Aelin prances around demanding her crown be handed to her without her doing any work and threatening anyone who refuses to kiss her ass.

Something cold and oily clanged through [Aelin]. Marriage to a foreign king or prince or emperor. Would this be the cost? Not just in blood shed, but in dreams yielded? To be a princess eternal, but never a queen? To fight with not just magic, but the other power in her blood: royalty.

Hoo boy, the “I can’t marry for love but I have to marry for my kingdom” trope. I don’t mind this trope if it’s done well ( I guess I’m a sucker for that drama) but SJM is either gonna A. sweep it under the rug afterwards and never address it again, or B. milk the angst for all it’s worth and then come up with a last minute solution that doesn’t make Aelin have to make any decisions or compromises or work for her happy ending.

She had laughed once at Dorian—laughed and scolded him for admitting that the thought of marriage to anyone but his soul-bonded was abhorrent. She’d chided him for choosing love over the peace of his kingdom.

Karma is a bitch ain’t it

Aelin spoke into the dark, toward where Darrow was seated. “I suggest, Lord Darrow, that you become accustomed to this. For if we lose this war, darkness will reign forever.” There was a scratch and a hiss—then a match sputtered as it lit a candle on the table. Darrow’s wrinkled, hateful face flickered into view. “Men can make their own light, Heir of Brannon.”

Darrow literally takes no shit!! Why isn’t there fanart and posts dedicated to this bad ass old warrior instead of countless fans gushing over Aelin? Seriously, I’d ask for a Darrow backstory novel but SJM would fuck it up, no doubt.

But Aelin looked to Ren, his face tight. And over the roaring in her head, she said, “Whether or not you vote in my favor, there is a spot for you in this court. For what you helped Aedion and the captain do. For Nehemia.”

*chokes back on sobs* I miss when it was just Nehemia, Aelin, Dorian, and Chaol in the glass castle..... they really were simpler times.

Darrow expresses that Nehemia was a better princess than Aelin is (which is true) and references her death and Rowan fuckin’ threatens to kill him. So gg, you all are just proving Darrow’s point that none of you are fit for the responsibility of ruling/helping Aelin rule.

A messenger arrives and informs them that Rifthold will soon be under attack from the Ironteeth witches.

Aelin wondered if Manon Blackbeak would be leading the attack—if it’d be a blessing. The Wing Leader had saved them once before, but only as a payment for a life debt. She doubted the witch would feel obliged to throw them a bone anytime soon.

Ohhh is this foreshadowing that Manon is going to join Aelin’s side or am I reading into this too much? I’m worried that SJM is gonna reduce Manon to just another blind follower of Aelin hnghhh.....

Rowan’s hand brushed [Aelin’s]. “I will save him,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t ask this of you unless it was … Dorian is vital. Lose him, and we lose any support in Adarlan.” And one of the few magic-wielders who could stand against Morath.

Uhh and you’d lose one of your first friends you made after you were freed from the mines? The guy who you were once in love with? Seriously, she’s talking about Dorian as if he’s some weapon right now and not one of her best friends! I s2g as soon as Aelin met Rowan it was like Chaol and Dorian never existed in the first place and all that development she had with them got swept under the rug.

Since Darrow said that they needed allies, Aelin plots for them all to meet up in Skull’s Bay after Rowan rescues Dorian. Wait.... Skull’s Bay is from The Assassin’s Blade. But that means-

“I thought you knew Rolfe,” Aedion said. Aelin gave him a grim smile. “He and I parted on … bad terms, to say the least. But if Rolfe can be turned to our side…”

Rolfe!!! He was another interesting character from the first book (not a good guy, if I remember correctly, he owned slaves) who actually made Aelin work in order to beat him and gain victory. I’m excited to meet him again.

Alone with Rowan, Aelin said, “Darrow expects me to take this order lying down. But if we can rally a host in the South, we can push Erawan right onto the blades of the Bane.” “It still might not convince Darrow and the others—” “I’ll deal with that later,” she said, spraying water as she shook her head. “For now, I have no plans to lose this war because some old bastard has learned he likes playing king.”

Uhh fuck you?? For acting like Darrow is the bad guy here?? He cares about his kingdom and rather than let his grief over his deceased lover consume him, he fights hard to protect his people and makes sure the crown doesn’t go to anyone who will start a war over the stupidest shit. Fuck you Aelin, Darrow would be a much better ruler than you.

But if Rowan was caught, if Dorian was caught … “I can’t—I can’t let you go—” “You can,” he said with little room for argument. The voice of her prince commander. “And you will.” Rowan again traced her mouth. “When you find me again, we will have that night. I don’t care where, or who is around.”

That really is their only motivation at this point, huh? Aelin just wants this war to be over so she can bone her fae prince whenever she wants without any interruptions. I need a drink.

So Rowan leaves in hawk form to go rescue Dorian and Evangeline is going to stay with Murtaugh, since Aelin at least has the sense to not bring a child to a pirate paradise.

Aelin kissed the girl’s cheek and whispered into her ear, “Work your magic on these miserable old men while you’re at it.” She pulled away to wink at the girl. “Win me back my kingdom, Evangeline.”

I almost felt my heart melt at this cute interaction, but then I remembered that Aelin means Darrow and SJM wants the audience to hate him and that mood flew out the window. I’ll be the only Darrow stan on this website if I have to, damnit.

Aedion said to Ren, “Unless you want to swap one tyrant for another, I suggest you get the Bane and any others ready to push from the North.” Murtaugh answered for his grandson, “Darrow means well—” “Darrow,” Aedion interrupted, “is now a man of limited days.”

LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK AEDION!!!! Darrow rightfully denies Aelin the crown and you’re gonna fucking murder him? You need his alliance if you’re gonna win this war holy shit y’all are so fucking stupid!

Aelin said, “We don’t touch Darrow.” “What?” Aedion snapped. Aelin said, “I’d bet all my money that he’s already taken the steps to ensure that if he meets an untimely death, we never set foot in Orynth again.” Murtaugh gave her a grim, confirming nod. Aelin shrugged. “So we don’t touch him. We play his game—play by rules and laws and oaths.”

For once Aelin is finally using another method of negotiation other than killing people but stop framing Darrow as if he’s ~evil~ for not giving you your crown when you’ve done nothing to prove to any of the lords that you’re fit to rule! I am utterly baffled that SJM really thinks Darrow is in the wrong here.

So Murtaugh has been loyal to Aelin’s family, treated her with respect and kindness, and offered to look after Evangeline while they’re gone, so Aelin.... slices her palm and threatens him that if anything happens to Evangeline she will burn all of them. I’m not even joking.

Aelin clenched her bloodied palm into a fist, holding it in the air between them. “Because of that loyalty, you will understand what blood promises mean to me when I say if that girl comes to harm, physical or otherwise, I do not care what laws exist, what rules I will break.” Lysandra had now turned to them, her shifter senses detecting blood. “If Evangeline is hurt, you will burn. All of you.”

Seriously, can someone tell me if I’m going crazy?? AELIN THESE ARE PEOPLE WHO WANT TO BE YOUR ALLIES YOU CAN’T GODDAMN THREATEN ALL OF THEM!!!!! Murtaugh has not said one bad word to you and you’re threatening to burn him!!! WHAT THE FUCK AELIN THIS IS WHY YOU ARE NOT QUEEN YOU STUPID DKAHDFJAHFKDH

“Threatening your loyal court?” sneered a cold voice as Darrow halted a few feet away.

Oh thank god Darrow is here, a character who isn’t brain dead stupid. Seriously, number 1 Darrow stan right here.

Her heart strained, but Aelin said to Ren, that scar hidden by the shadows of his rain-drenched hood, “I wish we had time to speak. Time for me to explain.” “You’re good at walking away from this kingdom. I don’t see why now would be different.”

HOLY SHIT REN IS JOINING IN THE AELIN ROASTING!!! Ren and Darrow are the only good people in this entire goddamn kingdom.

Aelin said, “I promise you that no matter how far I go, no matter the cost, when you call for my aid, I will come. I promise you on my blood, on my family’s name, that I will not turn my back on Terrasen as you have turned your back on me. I promise you, Darrow, that when the day comes and you crawl for my help, I will put my kingdom before my pride and not kill you for this. I think the true punishment will be seeing me on the throne for the rest of your miserable life.”

>IMPLYING THAT DARROW WILL EVER NEED YOUR HELP YOU STUPID FUCKING ASSHOLE WHO CAN’T EVEN GET THROUGH A SIMPLE MEETING WITHOUT ALMOST STABBING SOMEONE

I FUCKING HATE AELIN SO MUCH TO THINK I WAS ON THE FENCE BEFORE HOLY FUUUUCK

Ungh... I can do this. So they finally get their asses moving and Aelin sees the Little Folk have left her another present.

Brannon’s temple on the coast had been rendered carefully—a clever little contraption of twigs and rocks to form the pillars and altar … And on the sacred rock in its center, they’d created a white stag from raw sheep’s wool, his mighty antlers no more than curling thorns.

Obvious foreshadowing is obvious.

Finally chapter 6 holy shit. Chapter 4 gave me hope that the book was picking up but chapter 5 just shit all over my hopes and dreams.

Dorian Havilliard, King of Adarlan, hated the silence.

Dorian’s POV! Sadly since the books utterly forgot of his existence aside from torturing him emotionally after book 2, Dorian doesn’t get a lot of attention anymore. I liked him in the first three books, but given what happened to the other characters, let’s see how SJM butchers him..........

He lifted his hands before the view, his palms callused from the exercises and swordplay he’d made himself start learning once more.

A ruler who teaches himself how to fight in order to help protect his kingdom? Fuck yeah.

Dorian has some inner turmoil about being held captive and tortured and the revelation that his father had been possessed by a demon for years, and it’s.... good? It’s well written, Dorian’s problems are understandable and sympathetic, and he’s clearly taking precautions so it doesn’t happen again. Nicely done!

Dorian flexed his fingers, frost sparking in his palm. Raw magic—yet there was no one here to teach him. No one he dared ask.

I mean, the poor guy can’t even control his magic because all his friends who have magic are off pretending to be a good queen. *glares at Aelin*

He was halfway through the pillars of books and papers when he spied the horizon. When his city began screaming. Spreading into the distance, blotting out the sunset like a storm of bats, flew a legion of wyverns. Each bore armed witches, roaring their battle cries to the color-stained sky.

And here we go! I’m hoping for a good action scene, since the witches are so badass (even though I feel bad for Dorian and his people). We also switch to Manon’s POV.

With the height and distance, Manon fully beheld the carnage as the horizon at last revealed the sprawl of the capital city. The attack had begun without her. Iskra’s legion was still falling upon it, still spearing for the palace and the glass wall that crested over the city at its eastern edge.

This build up is really good! I’m excited to see Manon kick ass (even though again, the people she’s fighting are innocent).

Manon aimed Abraxos for the stone castle atop the hill, barely peeking above that shining glass wall—the wall she had been ordered to bring down— and hoped she had not been too late in one regard. And that she knew what the hell she was doing.

A cliffhanger to end the chapter. Although the wording leaves me to believe Manon isn’t actually going to do any fighting, but we’ll have to wait and see.

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

I have 13,000 criminals to work in California at our Race Track Supreme area. Not on the old track that's fenced it will remain that way until after everything else is already opened. Then we will do it ourselves.

In the meantime, South America has a brand new Tree Built Track and British Columbia

So we will be there certain dates.

One of my daughters and temporary part time fathers will run BC during the Western Swing we will divide between BC and Cali.

And I will run South America's 2 with the Medallion Cartel in one and the Sinaloa Cartel in the other.

We will be there during the longer breaks.

Alex will switch to a NHRA car that has less scheduled time or he may stay in pro stock and share. Idk. Or switch and share it or just quit as he says he wants to.

There's not enough race tracks... New Orleans, hello.

So much to do in the world. We need more teams. More drivers.

The NHRA current employees have earned money to sponsor and train new drivers so they can retire and have the jobs they loved as children.

So let's fill in the blanks of the contract they signed.

For every 100,000 I will give one ___car___ that I have in my possession until they are all gone or __one Taco Bell Truck to the poor__.

**what kind of car is it supposed to be? Check Alex's jump suit for a clients or your own garage if you don't need what you have.

What kind of Taco Bell Truck? Ask my soulmate. Which is Mr Laughy Pants.

__four score and 70 years ago__ I pledge to you a partridge in a pear tree or __all my love for life__, your choice.

Wow this is (Early).

__how can I betray you by filling in these blanks with things you don't have. Can I ask you for love? No You might not have any for me. Can i ask you for a handshake? No You might have germs. Can I ask you for the time? You might not have a watch or phone on you especially if you work. So can i ask you all to retire, including Snoop Doggy Dogg from all except what he does for the kids? Yes i can. Because I can ask you for your time or his. I'm including Chandler in this, too. Pause for group hug. You know how to do it. Hug yourself I'm not a perv. Goddess Armageddon has approved her initial worship of herself and we can be happy once again. Group hug, this time don't hug yourself, hug her. I've eradicated her selfish son and so many other people in hopes to get you all together again to serve the world and the community as i served You and your community. I need 9,000 people to make this happen of course and what other 9000 people would i find except on Tv? Matthew McCoughny, you too. And some other folks i helped follow through with their wish by using Michael Jackson, Jake Thompson and Elvira & Elvis. Thats not all. All evil people must be eradicated before we do and before i post this so sometime soon, don't Yo I hope you'll see I have wrote and post this just for you to see? I do, too. 2003__ I am pregnant with my baby and all i can think is of all of you. I hear your prayers for her and Yoir requests for blessings for me and her. I don't know what to do with them all. So I gave tjem to the Princess Armageddon as she gave me the title Queen for my birth of my fresh daughter made for me and someone named Declan who ever that is. I don't know I have amnesia I suppose because i feel someone elses brain leaked all over me with all these fresh old memories, i guess we can call them.

___for the next 4 years (2018) I will pay your monthly stipend of 1million dollars. For me to keep 11 months of hidden away from you like the CIA does 100% of my money until the year 2012 unless I request 2019 or more time until my soulmate comes to,rescue me from whatever prison I'm in. And for you my NRA buddies and tv unselfishness I bestow 100billion dollars for each of you to build a race track in your own home city or nearby less than 2 hours from you so you can be home every night to see your children and families as you stay home and run it instead of running all over the world. So you can take over the world with me, from home. We will visit each other once per year at least. 2x at our nearest hime tracks then in the 3 farthest and 1 in the middle so we plan accordingly where to build or we make a list of where we want most and let people know Thars where we Wil be when. We will plan accordingly__

18000 contracts were sent.

1345 people have signed cause I wrote "as your lawyer I advise you not to sign this contract with not filled in blanks and i will pay you a yearly stipend of $1 million dollars to do so"

*im not even a lawyer don't listen to me.

1345 people didnt listen to me. That was stupid. Because in the middle of each form i wrote "i hate you if you sign and so you must cover these letters with your signature if you just really need money. Otherwise sign above the line. If you sign you owe me 100% of your assets, personal and business properties and tooth fairy wishes. Im tired of being the tooth fairy and my kid looses her lost teeth. That is strange. Sign already!" It was written in miniscule letters in top of the line and it looked like shaded in gray area.

"Letters" had to be covered. Alex knew that and ensured that each proper person signed appropriately.

Alex sighed over the word letters and didn't take $1 m per year. He takes 5.

Me: you really take 5 million dollars a year from me?

Alex: oh God she's slow! I uhh save it in the bank.. I uhh just shut your fucking mouth okay

Me: oh well what the Hell do you need $5 for?

Alex laughs: baby quit! I hang it on the wall in one of my offices. You seen them

Me: i know I have. I recall.

[bleedingcoffee42]

Casablanca AU-part 4

Ending (for now) of this AU that nobody asked for.  (Sorry Piper, I am going to get to that Notorious AU now since this is out of my system.)

xxxxxxxx

Roy waited until the dinner rush to go behind the bar and talk to his Mom.   “So where is she?  I know you had her followed.”

Chris appreciated her boy's tactics, he had learned his lessons well.  If he had come over to talk during down time Hughes would have noticed, now that it was so busy he could slip back here with every reason in the world.     Of course he knew she had Riza followed, that was a given.  “Vanessa followed her to Warehouse B at the depot last night.”

“Thanks.”  Roy said and gave her hand a squeeze.

“Be careful.”  She blew smoke in his face  to give him a reason to cough and leave the building.   “It's not like I can just adopt another son.”

Roy wasn't going to breathe in the smoke until she said that, then he laughed and sucked in a lungful of exhaled cigarette smoke.  He smirked while he coughed and ducked into the kitchen.   He cleared his throat and grabbed the cookbook off the shelf and pulled Yoki's travel papers out of it and then stuffed them into his inner jacket pocket.  He put the book back on the shelf and went into the pantry, pulled the box of cornmeal off the shelf and removed a Colt 1911 pistol.   Then he bent down and grabbed the oatmeal container and removed a magazine.   Armed with weapon and papers, he was now ready to go.  He grabbed his black trench coat and left out the back door.

It had rained most of the day, the streets were wet and a damp, thick fog hung over the town because of it.  He was finally thankful for rain because he could hear every splash and every squishy footstep.  The fog was also a blessing, it amplified the sounds and hid him from view.   Street lights cast a faint  glow as he made his way to the train station.   He wasn't sure who he'd find there, but he needed answers and he needed to believe Riza wasn't being selfish coming here.  He had to believe he wasn't completely wrong about her.

When he reached the station he turned north down an access road and then slipped through a hole in the chain link fence that surrounded the railway yard.   There were a few warehouses back here, some that stored inventory and another that stored old railway cars that had managed to evade being scrapped.   He almost walked past warehouse B as the stenciling on the door and the fog made it look like “13” instead.   He made no efforts to mask his arrival as Riza was an excellent shot and it would do him no good to surprise her.  He opened a man door and closed it loudly behind him to announce his arrival, then walked to the middle of the warehouse and waited for her.  

Riza turned on a overhead lamp and walked over to him.  She took him in, Roy looked menacing in his dripping wet trench coat standing just outside the circle of light cast by the overhead lamp.  Seeing him still made her heart leap, even if their meetings had been tense and painful.  “You had me followed.”

“You sound...grateful.”  Roy said and watched her for any tell of where Lazlo might be.  This warehouse had some finer train cars, Pullman cars, in storage for some time when passenger sleeper cars would be needed again.   A perfect place to hide out.

“You won't give me the papers until you meet with Lazlo.”  She said.  “He's sick and I can't move him.”

Roy saw the circles under her eyes now, the lack of decent lighting was playing hell with the shadows on her face and highlighting some of what she tried to hide with makeup the other night.   She looked exhausted, she looked like that girl in the desert who was too afraid to sleep but finally got some rest when she was laying in his arms and felt safe.   He knew right then and there he was going to give her the papers and carry Lazlo to the departing train if he had to, because she needed him again.   “I have the papers for you.”

Riza smiled at him.  “I...can't thank you enough.”

“Don't thank him yet!”  Hughes said and walked out of the darkness.  “They need a signature, my signature.  Nobody leaves the country without being thoroughly checked by me.”

Roy pulled his pistol and pointed it at Hughes.  Then he pulled the papers out of his pocket and smirked.  “I know.”

“Roy, I'm beginning to think there is something to this romance of ours.”  Hughes walked closer to the light.  “You know me better than my wife.”

“You knew you were being followed?” Riza asked.  Roy had always impressed her as a soldier.  He was a strategist without the passion for war, but when the situation presented itself he would amaze everyone with his brilliance.  

“He's good, I didn't hear him. However he is excellent at his job and I didn't think I would.”  Roy admitted.

“I like you slipping out the back door during happy hour.”  Hughes grinned.  “Made it seem like you were playing hard to get.”

“I needed you to sign the papers.” Roy said.  “I thought you'd like it better if I lead you on and you thought you had the upper hand.”

“Roy, this is really the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”  Hughes smiled.  

“So, perhaps you can introduce us to Lazlo?”  Roy asked and he waved the gun at Hughes, indicating he needed to follow Riza.  “And you might want to reconsider anything you might be planning for an escape.  She's a much better shot than me.”

“No heroics from me.”  Hughes said. “I have a wife and kid to get home to.”

Riza took a deep breath and walked into the dark, leading the two men behind her.  She walked to a Pullman car, pulled herself up the stairs and opened the door.   She struck a match and lit an old railway lantern and walked down the aisle.  The squeaks behind her meant that the men were following.   The aisle was small, barely shoulder width as it was from a different era, one where people were smaller and luxuries more simplistic.   She stopped and knocked on a door.  “Mr. Mustang is here to see you.”

“Come in.”

The voice was gruff and forced.   He heard the door open to the compartment and Hughes stepped inside and hid Lazlo from view until he stepped off to the side.  Roy was shocked by who he saw.

“May I introduce Berthold Hawkeye, or as he is better known, Lazlo.”  Riza said and stood by the window.

“No wonder she thought he was dead.” Hughes said and the creepy old dude's glare shifted to him.  

Roy blinked.  This was Lazlo?  This was the man Riza left him for?  He was ancient!

“She must like older men.  Like 'older than God' men.”  Hughes whispered.  “You never stood a chance, you with that baby face of yours.  Try some facial hair...”

“He's my father.”  Riza said and gave Hughes a cold stare.

“So you're Mustang.”  Berthold said.  “My daughter said you could be trusted.”

Roy felt the pang of pain.  Was that all she said about him?  “Is it true you have created a weapon more dangerous than anything we have seen so far?  The Lazarus Project?”

“Yes.”  Hawkeye said.  “My life's work, and like many before me I have realized it's danger too late.   However unlike Nobel and Winchester,  those who have seen the destruction and tried to made amends later, I am not going to release this hell into the world first.  I was working with another scientist, Marcoh, who was responsible for the power source for my device.    He escaped with his, I escaped with mine.   We have been running since.  I don't know if he made it out, but I won't let my work fall into anyone's hands.”

“Then why did you make it at all?” Hughes had to ask.  “You couldn't be blind to it's power?”

“When you believe you are doing the right thing, when you dedicate yourself to a cause...sometimes you fear the destruction of your purpose more than humanity itself.” Berthold said.  

“Will you give this to Aerugo?” Roy asked.  

“I am dying, I'll leave this world soon enough.   If I die here they will think my research lives on, if I leave and they can not find me then they will give up looking. Fund something more promising.”  Berthold said.   “It's not about escaping and giving my work away, it's about being able to die in peace and freeing my daughter from this burden.  You'll take care of her Mustang, won't you?  When this is all over?”

Roy didn't even think about his reply. “Of course.”

“So what are you going to do with your work?”  Hughes asked.

“It's hidden.”  Berthold said weakly.  “I don't have it anymore and my body will give out before anyone gets answers from me.   It's safe where nobody will look.”

“So it's dangerous enough you won't unleash it on the world, but you're not strong enough to destroy your legacy.”  Roy said coldly.

“I can't see the future.  Someday it might be needed.  Science will keep advancing and humanity will keep evolving, I can not predict that it may not be needed someday.” Berthold said and coughed up a little blood.   “I'm dying but not quick enough.  I can't keep moving anymore.   I need someplace to live out my days.”

There was silence as the old man went into a coughing fit.   Hughes felt bad that Roy and the future he wanted was derailed because this old fool was too cowardly to destroy his work.   Riza was a hell of a woman, protecting her father over choosing a fairy tail ending with Roy.    However if it was this dangerous, she knew it would fall into the wrong hands eventually then they would all be back in uniform again, repulsed by the horrors of war.  “Yeah, I'll sign those papers.  This is clearly not Lazlo, looks nothing like him.   This old guy just needs to head South for better weather.  It's my duty to expedite safe passage.”

Roy held out the papers for Hughes who continued to impress him.

Hughes took the papers and pulled a pen out of his pocket and signed his name on one document, then another. It was sloppy, like he was signing them on the palm of his hand, which is exactly how he always signed them at the station.   These would raise no suspicion.   He handed then to Riza and refused to let go.  “Don't make us regret this.”

xxxxxxx

As the train whistled again Riza turned to Roy, tears still in her eyes.   “Roy...”

“I'll be here.”  Roy said.  “You've got a job to do and where you're going I can't follow.”

Riza stepped closer to him, reluctantly.  She doubted her own will power to pull away from his gravitational pull if need be.   “Roy...I'm sorry. For everything. I was trying to protect you.  You would have come with me and I couldn't protect you both.  I couldn't handle being faced with that choice.  Now...”

“We've made a lot of mistakes, this can't be one of them.   We regret so much and we'll continue to do so.  Today, tomorrow and for the rest of our lives, but watching you leaving on that train won't be one of them.  You're doing the right thing and someday you'll come back again.   I see now, more than ever, the girl I fell in love with.”  Roy said and he watched tears start to roll down her cheeks.  “Hurry, you don't want to miss the train.”

Riza gave in and threw her arms around him and kissed him.  Kissed him and felt him wrap his arms around her, pulling her close to his body and locking them in an embrace neither wanted to end.  She ran her hand into his hair and kept pressure on his head, demanding he not end this kiss that they had both been longing for.  She didn't want to leave him again.   She never did.  Finally she pulled away.  “Come with us.”

“You know I can't do that. I have a job to do here and that is to ward off any suspicions.”  He gave her another light kiss as the whistle blew again, signifying departure was imminent and their time was up.  “I'll be here waiting for you.  I promise.”

Riza felt him pull away from her as he stepped out of her embrace.  She clung to him, her hands running down his arms as he backed away.   Tears fell and she watched him turn and walk away to stand beside Hughes.   She took a deep breath and went over to the conductor, handing him her paperwork.

“That Mustang has a reputation you know.”  The conductor said when he saw her tears.   “Sorry ma'am.”

She cried more and got on the train and went to the seat where her father was wrapped in a blanket and studying the newspaper.   Then she sat down and the train lurched forward on it's way to Aerugo.  

xxxxxxx

[lamiaward]

Celebrity au

I don’t own OUAT. I kind of skipped the first day of SQ week- I had test week, oops- so I decided to write this now.

Features: Regina who is a closet dork and Emma Swan fan, Henry who still steals credit cards and runs away (to the celebrity he has decided can help) and Ruby, who feels blessed when she learns Mayor-scary-Mills is a Star Wars loving dork.

Dear miss Swan ( my mom told me to call you that. Can I say Emma? Miss Swan is weird) My name is Henry. I am almost eleven. I really like pizza and hot chocolate and watching star wars marathons with my mom( even if I sometimes suspect her favourite is Darth vader , and he is the villain). Anyways, I don’t think my mom is good at liking people. She is the mayor, so she is sort of good at charming them? I think. Maybe it is just because she is scary. She is really good at glaring at townspeople that infuriate her. But I am writing this, because I hoped you could stop by. You sometimes do that, right- I read an article a while back about you secretly visiting that orphanage after they wrote to you. After I had wrestled it from mom’s hand. And I know you probably did it because the people at the orphanage do not have a family; they needed you. But I need you too, because my mom isn’t happy. She pretends to, but she really isn’t. And it all sucks. I think it would suck less if you just visit. Reading about you always makes mom smile and I know it would mean the world to both of us if you showed up.

Henry Mills

He has not actually told his mom what he has put in the letter. He has discussed writing it with her and they had sat at the couch, laughing as they came up with things to put in there. He had wanted to tell Emma a lot about how mom likes star wars so much that she dressed as Leia once and how she is weirdly great at going voices and how she has read even more comics than he has -but mom reached for his hand and sounded kind of panicked when she said “no!”. Her “ this is your letter, sweetheart. You do not have to make it all about me” had sounded like a partial lie.

Because yes, he was slowly starting to relearn that his mom would, in fact, do anything from threatening to destroy his teacher to frightening a bully’s parents to the point where he was forced to tearfully apologize, but there was also more going on than her just being overprotective.

Anyways, he had agreed to leave out the anecdotes about mom after a passionate discussion that ended with mom winning- he still maintains it is kind of cheating, considering it is her job to convince people she is right- and pretended to not have an ulterior motive at all. He would feel guilty – yeah, okay he still does a little – for omitting Important information but really, he figures he is allowed to after she did so for his entire life. So that is how he started writing the letter- his bin is now filled with proof letters because his mom is a perfectionist and he might have inherited that- and after his mom and he had spent a fun evening working on it, he had gone to Ruby for the bits that his mom couldn’t know about until stage six.

He reads it again, glances at Ruby. “What do you think? “  he asks, then frowns. He hesitantly grabs her arm and shakes her. “Ruby? Are you- are you okay? “.

“The mayor is a star wars fan?”.

“ Well duh. She sometimes throws star wars quotes in the conversation” he rolls his eyes. “ She uses ‘the idiocy is strong with this one” a lot”

When Ruby continues to stare at him like she has just wound up in an alternate universe, he adds “ it is a variation on ‘the force is strong in this one’. Get it? She always uses it after someone has been particularly inept”.

“Wait” Ruby slowly seems to recover, which is good because he actually needs her to function properly for operation Cobra “ was she actually quoting darth vader when she told me that she ‘found my lack of professionalism disturbing’  ?”.

“ Probably” he smiles happily. “ So you have seen it too?”

“ I used to have a girlfriend who really liked it” Ruby shakes her head. Henry kind of wants to ask her whether she is ill : she has a really weird expression right now. “ Oh my god. Your mother is a dork , isn’t she?”

“ We do not use that word” he tells her, frowning.

“ Oh my god, what else is she a nerd about it?”.

“ Does it matt-“.

“Yes” Ruby leans forward. “ Your mother’s uptightness and general haughtiness as well as the way she looks in her I-have-authority outfits means no one would know she is secretly a giant dork.  Do you have any idea how great it is to discover all that coolness is just a façade?”.

“ Do not call my mom uptight! Or haughty. And what does the last thing even mean?”.

“I am not going to explain or your mother would send like daleks after me”.

“ The daleks are not assassins. And they would immediately attempt to kill mom if they saw her. They- “.

“So you have watched Doctor Who together. What else?”.

He sighs. “ Ruby, I do not have a lot of time for this. Can we focus on what is import-“.

“But I need to know more! Like, does she have a wand or a lightsabre? Do you guys duel”

“Sometimes. Mom is weirdly good at it and super competitive. Now , can we go back to the operation?”.

Ruby sighs. “ Fine. But I want the scoop later”.

“ I am not going to rat on my mom”.

She smiles and wiggles her fingers. “Not even for a hot chocolate with cinnamon?”.

“ Really? That is all you got? “.

“ The new captain America”.

“ Nope”.

“ The- “.

“ Ruby, I am not a traitor, okay? So really, you could offer me the Arkenstone and it wouldn’t be enough”.

“ Well, yeah because you would probably want something like .. like.. something with books. Words”. “ The library of Alexandria?” Henry offers, because that would definitely be something he is willing to do a lot for. Not ratting out his mom though.

“ You truly are your mother’s child, dork. “.

“ I just really appreciate the fact that some people invented the basics of our entire civilization and I think it is awful that important knowledge – including stuff like Greek fire which would have been so epic- is lost. But is the letter okay?”.

Ruby takes the letter from him and reads it one last time. She smiles at him. “ Yeah. I think it is pretty great”.

His mother’s fears almost come true as he barrelled down the stairs and only just caught himself as he tripped over the shoe he had left there earlier. Ignoring his pounding heart and the slight ache from where he had slammed his hand in the baluster, he jumped the last few chairs and ripped open the door.

He nearly tore the letter as well as he opened the envelope, glancing at the kitchen. His mom still did not know exactly what he been telling Emma in those letters. He hesitated for a moment, please don’t disappoint this time, and finally started reading the letter.

It held another gift, a new one. But the signature was the same and the words were pretty general as well. Thank you so much for your kind letter, I wish you the best. He crumpled it and threw it at the floor, crushing it beneath his foot. His socks did not do much to the paper. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, then glanced at the kitchen again. He could hear a pan clatter, presumably falling to the floor.

She has been weird today. He can see she tries very hard to listen to his chatter and that she wants to hear about it, but she keeps losing attention. He used to get so mad whenever he had to repeat things on days like this, used to think his mother was just thinking about work – like that was more important than him. Used to hurt himself thinking that she didn’t care as much, because he wasn’t her real son. Now, he thinks it is something else entirely. He just doesn’t know what is going on, just feels like there is something wrong and she needs help that she will stubbornly refuse forever.

I know it is not really obvious, but I know something is going on. That she isn’t ha- I am not giving up on you, mom. I will help you.

It is that stubborn, consuming thought of need to help her need her to be okay something is wrong I can’t hurt her again that finally makes him silence what he thinks of as the Jiminy cricket in his mind, and just execute the rather ingenious – if illegal and kind of horrible- plan. It really is his mother’s wellbeing and not just his slight worship of the famous Emma Swan that brings him to stea borrow- he is totally going to find a way to repay her- credit card and get to Boston where he knows she is staying for the moment. The fan site gives the address of a hotel as her stay, but Henry knows better

It is just a decoy. She might have been there for the evening, but she is definitely not staying the night. He is lucky that knows someone who knows Emma’s bodyguard or he would have probably never found her. Now, he is standing in front of that bodyguard with his most charming, dimpled smile- the one that even destroys his mom’s iron resistance.

“ Where are your parents?”.

“ Mom. She couldn’t come. She is very busy” he says, pretending to be sad for a moment before giving the guard a small grin and waving the items in his face. “ She gave me some things to have signed for her though “ it is one of his mom’s favourite pictures of Emma. She is kind of sweaty and gross, but there is a shy, radiant smile as she holds up the trophy. It is the shawl he nearly always wears. It is the crudely sculpted cup he made for her ages ago.

The guard hesitates, then nods. As soon as he is turned, Henry allows himself to exhale shakily and show the fear and doubt on his face for a moment. He is grinning again by the time the guard knocks on the door and it opens.

Emma Swan leans against the door, in her usual red jacket and with a tank top and dark jeans. She looks at him, then at the guard. “ Thanks Alec. Have a good nightshift”.

The guard nods. “ Thank you miss Swan”

Emma grimaces. “ I told you, don’t call me that. It is weird”.

“That is exactly what I told my mom” Henry pipes in, grinning.

Emma chuckles.  “Well, that’s smart “ she steps aside. “ Come in – Henry, was it?”

“ Yeah” he turns towards the guard.  “Thank you Alec!” the dude grins and offers him a fist.  “Take care, little man” and Henry pumps it before darting inside. He immediately asks the question that has been on his mind ever since he heard that the operation was a go. “ Not that I don’t think it’s super cool, but do you always listen when your guards ask you to accept fans to visit?”.

Emma chuckles. “ Actually, that was Ruby”.

“ Ruby? But she said- “ he frowns. “ She said that Alec was an old friend that could get you to agree to a meeting”.

Emma leans against the fridge, smirks a little.  “ Well, it is completely possible that Alec has fallen for Ruby’s unique charm , but it was me she actually asked”.

He clenches his fist a little. Liars, everywhere. “ But why did she lie?”.

Emma shrugs. She looks slightly awkward.  “To protect me, possibly. She was my girlfriend and I am a private person. She might have thought you would accidentally out me”.

“ Wow. She was your girlfriend?” Emma rubs her neck.  “Well, yeah sort of? But I am not going to fully explain, because your mom will possibly kill me if I accidentally give you like The Talk”.

Henry is too stuck on ‘girlfriend’ to really listen to the rest of what Emma is saying. “ That is so cool!” . He giggles.  “if mom knew, she would probably never smile at Ruby again”.

“ Uh why is that, kid?”.

He grins. “ She would be super jealous”.

Emma relaxes and laughs. “ Would she?”.

He nods.  “Totally” he lowers his voice. “ I am not supposed to tell you, but she is weird about you. This one time, mom was on the phone and I was watching you on ninja warrior and she walked into the couch’.

“ Well, I am glad I made an impression”.

He nods sagely. “ You did” he skips towards the fridge. “ Do you have juice?”. “ Sure. Just- “

He takes the package from the fridge, tries to reach the cupboard. He hears her chuckle. “ You can drink from the carton”.

He stares at it. “ Are you sure? It seems kind of unhygienic”.

“ Yeah. It is nearly empty anyways”.

He shrugs and greedily finishes the carton before wiping his mouth and grinning. He offers her the items, she looks around with narrowed eyes before she looks at him.  

“ Do you maybe have a –“.

He hands her the fountain pen. It is the special one, the one mom gave him when everything still sucked and she finally broke and tried to get him to smile at her again by giving him an amazingly beautiful leather notebook and a matching pen. Emma doesn’t all of that though, which is probably why she teases him a little.

He merely shrugs and semi-casually says “ My mom gave it to me. She is supportive of one of my dreams”.

“ One of them?”. “ I have several. One of them is to become a writer”.

Emma nods as she scribbles on the items. “ What kind of books are you going to write?”.

“I am not sure yet. I have several ideas though, am already working on characters”.

She smiles and he knows that she is not just pretending to be nice, that is not the rare person that has the guts to try to get close to his mom and thinks he is the way to do it, nor any of the townspeople who patronize him and privately think his ambitions will change. “ Well, give me a call or something when you get published, okay?” his jaw hurts from grinning and he nods.

He accepts the items, clutching them in his hands. He is slightly terrified, but he steels himself and his voice barely trembles. “ Yeah. Ehm Emma?”.

“ Yes?”.

“ Thank you so much for this” he shows her the items. Do not forget to be polite, Corazon he hears his mom’s voice say. I am going to make sure you’re okay, I am going to apologize that way he thinks back. “ There is just- I really need your help”.

Emma looks confused. “ with what?”.

He swallows. “ D-do you remember my letters?”.

She crosses her arms, drags her foot over the floor. “ No, so- I don’t always read every single one. I try- but I am – “ she falters, throwing him a sad look. He immediately forgives her, partly because he understands.

“ that’s okay. Anyways, my letters- my mom is not okay. And I- “ he swallows.  “I really need your help”.

“ I don’t- kid, I am a total stranger”.

“ I know”.

“ Your mother might occasionally watch me on TV , but she doesn’t really know me- “

“ I know”

“ and doesn’t she have like friends or I don’t know, like a – “.

“ she doesn’t want to admit something is wrong” Emma pales and freezes for a moment, then hesitantly approaches and kneels, at the sight of the tears that embarrass him slightly. “ Hey, kid- “.

“She is hiding it. But- I know. I can feel it. And – she sometimes has these weird mood swings. Not around me- she always orders Kathryn to pick me up and says it is just because she has a meeting- but with the people from the court sometimes, or Rubes. And she sometimes locks herself into her office- for work, she says. But there is not even paperwork around her then! And- “ her chokes a little. “ Please. “.

Emma hesitates for a moment, then nods. “ Okay. I will check it out”.

Henry regains some of his usual cheeriness during the ride home. It is easier to believe everything will be fine when he has the bravest- apart from his mom- and strongest woman in the car next to him. He presses the signed picture, shawl and mug against him and grins. It is going to be okay.

It is not.

His mom’s voice breaks as she runs towards him, tugging him into his arms and holding him there for several moments. He can feel her tremble slightly. “ Henry- where were you? “.

He smiles at her. It hurts, you have hurt her. Again, but he is going to make her smile in the next second so he can weather it. He points at Emma. He thinks of people in films dying in slow motion. Her eyes widen, slowly. Her breath catches, suddenly. She swallows.

“ Miss Swan?” her voice is higher than usual.

Emma smiles and exhales a shy “Hi “.

His mom gapes at her. “ Why- how” she glances at Henry. “ Henry?” .

“ I found her, for you “ he smiles at her.  “She is going to make it all better”.

He thinks back to these awful pre-discovery months, and the hurt she must have hidden behind anger. “ There is no need. Everything is fi- “.

“ No it isn’t! And you should stop pretending it is” his voice cracks, he blinks furiously.

He grabs her hand. “ Mom” he wants to say “I am sorry” and scream at her for not trusting him at the same time. He wants to ask what is going on, while at the same time he is terrified of discovering what exactly is hurting her. He wants things to seem simple again, but he knows he can’t.

She kneels next to him, starts to reach for him. She gives him plenty of time to shrug away, to push her away like had been a carefully practised motion for months. Instead, he sinks into the hug and sobs once. “ I just want you to be happy” he says.

“ Oh Henry- I am. How could I not, with a son like you? “she whispers. She may be crying. She pulls back after a minute, touches his chin briefly before straightening. Her hand rests on his shoulder and he leans against her as she talks to Emma. “ Miss-“.

“ Emma” he can hear her clear her throat. Is he imagining the slight tremble? “ Please call me Emma”.

“ Very well. Emma- can I offer you a glass of the best apple cider you have ever tasted?”.

He opens his eyes just in time to see his mom nervously brush her hair behind her ear and Emma blush as she smiles. “That would be- “ she glances at him. “ I would ask for something stronger, but the kid is there”.   His mom arches her brow. She almost doesn’t seem nervous anymore ( she totally is though). “ That is- probably wise”.

“ Yeah “ his mom stares at the flush on Emma’s cheek. Emma stares back at mom’s mouth – she is probably waiting for her to stop staring and start speaking again like he is. Finally, he decides they’re both hopeless and he really wants to stop freezing outside.

“ So….” He grins at the both of them. “ Hot chocolate?”.

He does not get hot chocolate. He gets an admonishment, several weeks without comments and a ‘go to bed, immediately young man”. He pouts and gives his best puppy dog eyes but his mom is unrelenting this night. She mellows a little (though she mostly tries to pretend like she doesn’t want to keep them) as he gives her the signed items. But not enough to even consider letting him stay up.

Then he trudges up the stairs, his attempt at listening to their conversation also thwarted and falls asleep before his mom leaves the room.

There are two things that Emma Swan thinks upon meeting Regina Mills. One: holy actual shit, wow. And two: Bad Idea. Yup, capitalized and everything. She is trying to focus more on two than one (but failing a little as she thinks such pretty eyes. That dress looks amazing on her. How would it look off her? – yeah okay, maybe failing a lot) as she sits on the couch.  

She forces herself to focus on two by reciting all the reasons this woman is a Bad Idea. One; she has a kid. He seems pretty awesome- she is aware she should not be mostly impressed and slightly amused by the whole stealing-my teacher’s-credit card-and-dragging-the-famous-lady-home thing but she kind of is. Perhaps it is the memory of the horrible teachers that Emma has had that make it more amusing and impressive than anything else. But despite that- Emma is still not exactly the kind of person that would raise a kid.

Not to mention, is she the kind of person that would be allowed to raise a kid by his overprotective mom? (henry talked a lot about his mom in the car).

And there other reasons. Reasons like how this woman probably has big issues and Emma is a mess that she cannot fix, so how is she supposed to help anyone else ? Reasons such as how she wants to run at the sign of feelings, or how Regina seems to be the kind of person that is very sophisticated and very intelligent and Emma is still absurdly proud of participating in the world series of beer pong. Classy ladies like Regina Mills would never like the kind of girl that tries to force an entire pizza in her mouth when someone dares her to. Right?

Also, does she even like girls? Henry sort of implied, but-

Oh fuck. Emma’s stomach actually jolts as their fingers brush, and she almost yanks her hand away. Regina seems cool as a cucumber- except Emma quickly realizes she is not. She presses a hand to her stomach, like she has the same annoying sensation Emma does.

“ Your son is very- “.

“ Disobedient?” Regina says, sighing as she settles down on the couch.

“ I was going to say inventive, probably”.

She chuckles. “ Well, he is that too”.

“ So uh- “ she searches for something to say that will not be hugely embarrassing for her. “what do you do? For a living”.

“I am mayor”.

“ That… explains the house and clothing”.

“Yes” they sip their drinks in slightly awkward silence. Emma studies the woman, noticing she is still tense – although that could also be her modus operandi. Emma definitely wouldn’t be surprised.

“Thank you for bringing my son home”.

“ Uh no problem. Anyone would’ve done it” she grins.  “Besides, he is pretty convincing”.

“ That he is” the gentle look that she gives Emma makes her nearly shatter the glass in her hand. “ Thank you”. “ You just said that”.

She chuckles awkwardly. “ I am aware. I was just- “ she seems to not really notice Emma for a moment, staring at the wall. “ I thought he would not return this time”.

“ Ah. Kid – uh has he done a lot of running?” it is none of her business. And usual, she would do pretty much do anything to avoid emotional landmines like this, but there is something about the woman next to her that makes it almost easy to stay.

“ He discovered he was adopted and – “ Emma puts down the glass and nearly reaches for the woman’s hand. She seems –

“ Suffice to say, he did not take it well. He ran away several times and – you never get accustomed to that. You keep being terrified”.  She shakes herself , puts on a smile. Emma is both thrown off and kind of impressed how that smile almost seems genuine.

“ Well, but that is in the past. Miss Swan, do you- “.

“ Emma. And the kid- he is worried about you” she says it very carefully. Regina stiffens nonetheless. She is closing more and more with the second, her jaw tightening and her eyes losing all warmth- Emma only notices she has grasped the woman’s bicep when Regina gasps and stares down at the fingers curled loosely around her bicep.

Emma slowly lets go. “ I am not- it is none of my business. It really isn’t. And you can always tell me to fuck off. But I also think the kid might be right that something is going on”.

“ And why, pray tell, would you assume something like that?”

“ You have bags beneath your eyes. The kid only ran away today, so that cannot be causing it. You seem to have lost weight- from worry, perhaps. But I am not sold. And you startled pretty terribly when I walked towards you”.

“ You were suddenly behind me”.

“ Yeah. You know- “ Emma hesitates only a second, not comfortable sharing things about herself and not liking having to think back to the moment it happened. But Regina is quickly starting to look angry and for some reason, she really wants to avoid that. “ I am an orphan. The longest time I had a family was three years. They sent me back when they got their own child”

She automatically grits her teeth, feeling that anger , that sense of ‘it is not fair’ which means she represses all of this shit until- her muscles lose their tension slowly, she stares at the hand on her knee before swallowing and continuing.

“ I saw a lot of shitty homes. I saw kids being beaten and neglected and all that mess. When I got out- I kept contact with some of them. I wanted to forget all of that, but some- I had actually made some friends”

she looks at Regina again.  “There was this one girl, Lily. She didn’t tell me everything. But I have heard and seen enough to know there was a lot of trauma. And – she used to flinch whenever there was a loud sound, or someone was suddenly behind her or someone came too close. And she had these insane mood swings. You could be laughing with her one moment and the next she would suddenly threaten to punch someone for bumping into her, you know?”

‘ What is your point?”.

“ I don’t know your life. I don’t know you. But I can recognize trauma anywhere”.

Regina stiffens. “ I am not going to make choices for you, or try to get you to talk to someone about it. Don’t worry, I am not much a talker myself. But- ‘ she very carefully lays her hand atop Regina’s .  “if you ever need me to distract you again by finishing an insane obstacle course- “ seriously Swan? She winks. “ Just call me. I would love to”.

Regina chuckles, then sighs. “ Henry told you, did he not?”.

“ Uh-huh. So what had you so distracted then?” she asks, semi-innocently. Regina presses her lips together, then throws her glass back. She grabs the bottle that she had placed on the table and fills the glass again.

“ No, seriously” Emma says, offering Regina her own glass when she arches her brow and glances at the bottle. It is probably a horrible idea to keep drinking and sit with this gorgeous, likely traumatized (straight?) woman but Emma is still the queen of bad ideas. Sometimes.

“You have no proof” Regina says, smirking a little.

“ I have a witness!”.

“ But is he reliable?”.

“ Are you calling your own son unreliable?”.

“ No, I am merely stating that he may have exaggerated. What exactly did he tell you?”.

“ That you were so distracted by my abs that you forgot how to walk” it is paraphrasing.

“ That is not what happened, at all”.

“ Well, what happened madam mayor”. She could swear Regina looks a little excited at her challenging tone.

“ I have a right to remain silent”.

“ That just makes it all very suspicious though “.

“ Hardly”.

Emma glances at her glass with confusion; when had she emptied it? She shrugs and lets Regina fill it again. The jolt is stronger this time, and she hears Regina’s breath stutter. “ So tell me”.

“ Are you going to continue needling me?”.

‘ Yes. Until you give in and tell me”.

Emma nearly spills cider on herself as Regina smirks at her. She nearly drains the glass in her, which is like the worst decision ever for Regina chooses that moment to lean in, squeeze her knee and say “ I have great stamina”.

Emma only barely keeps from choking or spitting cider all over the expensive couch.

“ That’s – is this that competitive shit Henry talked about or are you just- “ .

Emma feels vaguely insulted at the eye roll and muttered “idiot” before she is unable to feel anything but a feeling like ‘hell fucking hell yes” as Regina leans in again and it is pretty obvious what is going to happen. Except she gets impatient so she blindly puts the drink down and pulls Regina’s lips to her own. She feels her affronted gasp, but ignores it to kiss her. And kiss her. And kiss her some more.

Unfortunately, Emma still has to breathe so she is forced to pull back when she is actually starting to see black spots. She licks her lips, that taste of cider and lipstick and something that is just Regina. She starts to lean in again, grinning as she hears Regina’s very irregular breathing. Inches from her lips, she stops. “ Tell me?”.

“ I will destroy you- “ the woman beneath her starts to growl and Emma cannot even be sure whether the shivers are fear or pleasure because wow that is kind of terrifying, but also hot when there are hands grabbing her tank top and roughly pulling her head down. She quickly forgets all about things like words as lips start to move against hers.

She kind of gets her answer anyways, because Regina keeps touching her arms and mutters ‘beautiful’ as she glances at them during the spare moments they remember breathing. Emma just smiles smugly and dives in again, ignoring the fact that she has her own weakness- which is mostly the sounds Regina makes and how wonderful she feels, but also that lip scar that she keeps tracing.

She wordlessly rolls off Regina as she feels the gentle pressure against her chest, studies the woman as they lay side-to side and with their legs entwined because of the little space the couch has. Regina had been bold and controlled, but now she almost seems shy. And flustered because of more than what has Emma’s throat really dry.

“ Are you okay?”.

“ Ye-“ Regina clears her throat. “ Yes. I am fine. I just-“ she smiles, kisses Emma one last time. “ I just cannot believe this is happening”.

“ Uh same here. You are – “ Emma just shakes her head. “ Wow”.

Regina looks both pleased and like she doesn’t fully believe it. “ You are beloved by millions, Emma, so I am sure I am the one that is supposed to say that”. “ You know, that is not as impressive as it seems. Have you ever seen people react to cat videos? I am nothing compared to the cat videos, Regina”.

She grins when Regina chuckles.  “I still maintain that you are quite ‘wow’, Emma Swan”.

“ And I maintain my earlier thought of ‘holy fucking shit, wow “.

Regina groans a little. “ That is just-“.

“ well-put?”.

“ No, it has too many swear words”.

“ Two! It has two swear words”.

“Out of four. That is 50% “.

“ Picky”.

“ Shut up” Regina mutters, her eyes drifting close.

“ Regina  “

“ Hm?”.

“ Should I not bring you to bed?”

“How presumptuous of you. I am not a groupie,  miss Swan”.

“ Yeah, I totally did not mean it like that. But should you not have a bed so you can actually have a good night rest?”

She feels Regina’s smile as she is kissed again. “ Goodnight, Emma”.

“ Oh okay. Good night”.

Usually, Emma would sprint towards her car after emotions like this. But with Regina’s arms around her and her slowly evening breath and her soft murmers, running is the last thing on her mind.

[evenstevensranked]

#46: Season 3, Episode 14 - “Dirty Work”

This episode was pretty popular. Ren and Principal Wexler have a falling out after she starts to realize he assigns her all of his “dirty work.” So, Larry Beale ends up temporarily taking over as Wexler’s student assistant. Petty drama ensues. Meanwhile, during the plot everyone remembers: Louis decides to start his own "Lumberjack Club" as an excuse to slack off in school. Where all they do is hang around, speak with semi-hillbilly accents, eat pancakes and wear flannels.

Let me start off by saying... To this day, people fondly remember the Lumberjack Club as if it were some major thing, but in reality it was only a (very) small subplot. That’s crazy to me. I did my research, and this Lumberjack Club plot resonated with people so much that students were directly inspired to start their own Lumberjack Clubs at school irl. I’m not joking. Here are some more examples. 

All of these clubs have basically the same mission statement as Louis’ and were formed in the Early 2000s. This alone made me feel like I should rank the episode much higher for “iconic” points. Buuuut, this was never one of my personal favorites *gasp!* and that’s outweighing a lot of things for me. So, please know that I had an extreme internal struggle when deciding where to put this one. I was originally going to rank this around #59-55. But, I didn’t think that was fair enough to the ~cultural impact~ it made, and decided to put it here at #46. That being said… let’s get into it.

This one opens with Coach Tugnut driving up to his school parking spot singing “‘cause I got a brand new suit, and pair of shoes to match! I wish I had a mustache—“ before he gets cut off by Ren. I just felt like those lyrics were worth sharing honestly. She tells him that Wexler has ordered his parking spot to be moved a block and a half away from the school. We find out the reason why when Wexler comes driving up in a new red convertible. He wanted that spot for himself. Idk why Wexler needed Tugnut’s spot though? Surely he has his own prominent spot? He asks Ren to look into some “Lumberjack Club” he came across while looking over the school budget.

What is up with Ren’s pants, btw? This outfit always bothered me. When I was young I always thought they were, like.. freaking Louis Vuitton pants or something, lol. I mentioned before that her wardrobe starts to include loud patterns and gives off an overall “older” and stuffy vibe towards the end of the series. 

The camera pans over to Louis and Twitty, who are accepting and signing off on a syrup delivery. They recycle their code names (Lars Honeytoast and Frenchie Von Richter) from an earlier episode in the series when accepting the order. The delivery man refers to Twitty as "Mr. Honeytoast." This is such a small thing that’s easy to miss, but it’s awesome and top notch casual continuity! I really like it.

It’s “New England’s Finest” syrup. I’m from Boston. This pleases me, tbh.

It cuts to Lumberjack Club! Where Louis, Twitty, Tawny and Tom are cooking pancakes and celebrating the fact that they’ve upgraded their syrup to premium quality, lol. “Lumber Tawn” asks “Lumber Lou” (yes, these are the nicknames they’ve given themselves) to tell them how he came up with the idea for the club again. Louis goes on to tell the story of the club’s origins. The hillbilly accent really kicks in now, accentuated by bluegrass music in the background. He starts off by saying “Well, ‘bout two weeks ago, when yous kids was much younger… everyone was siiignin’ up for cluuuubs.” That is one of my favorite lines though. Not gonna lie. He explains that anyone could get money to form a club as long as they got 50 signatures. So he decided to create a Lumberjack Club after remembering his “deep and loyal love for the pancake.” Incredible. 

Dat face tho.

Right about now is when Ren comes walking in, finding the four of them toasting to The Lumberjack. (See first image.) She grills them about what kind of club they are and what sort of things they do. Louis starts pulling crap out of his butt saying “We sing Lumberjack Songs.” Ren asks them to sing one and it’s great. None of them are in sync. They’re all making stuff up off the top of their heads and clashing miserably. The best part is Tom -- who’s repeatedly saying "Wood... Wood... Wood..." God bless Tom.

Louis says they’re “legit… with a big L!” “…and a small ‘egit’!” Twitty finishes. I feel like this is worth mentioning because one of the real-life clubs’ requirements for joining is that you have to “be legit.” Oh my god. Obviously, Ren vows to shut down the club.

Wexler surprises Ren with her own desk outside of his office. We’re getting into creepy territory again, guys. Wexler makes Ren, a 14-15 year old, do ALL OF HIS WORK while he goes out gallivanting in his new car. Remember when I said that Ren Stevens is basically the principal of Lawrence Jr. High…? Well, this episode really exemplifies that and takes it to a new level. She literally takes over as principal. How is this not illegal?

One of her tasks for the day is to fire the school janitor. Wow. (Fun fact: Jackie the Janitor is played by Knobby Frostybump -- the old elf from the Lizzie McGuire Christmas episode lol) This is the last straw for Ren. She confronts Wexler and quits being his assistant. But much like in Ren-Gate, that doesn’t last long. Over the course of a period, she gets all emo and decides she wants her job back. But, oh no! When she goes back to the office, guess who’s already taken over for her? Larry Beale. Dang, that was fast.

Another lazy name flub happens again here. Larry is polishing his nameplate and it reads "Lawrence M. Beale" when earlier in the series they say his full name on a few different occasions and it's "Lawrence Anthony Beale." I don't understand why something like this is so difficult to remember?! Although, I actually always thought it was weird that Larry's middle name was Anthony because Louis’ full name is Louis Anthony Stevens. Even weirder... The actor who plays Beans is named Steven Anthony Lawrence. What a strange coincidence. 

Ren and Wexler are being extremely passive aggressive towards each other while Larry sits there gloating. Out of spite, Ren decides to become Tugnut's new assistant instead. Like he even needs one. It becomes a petty, all out war between the pairs.

It’s Larry’s job to shut down Lumberjack Club now, so he busts into their meeting the next day. I’m pretty sure they’re not even going to class anymore. They hired a marimba player named Nate to entertain them during club meetings — which I think is absolutely hilarious. It might just be because I'm a musician, but any music-related humor kills me. I mean, a MARIMBA PLAYER?! And this dude is such a Jazz cat. It’s great. This is honestly probably my favorite scene in the whole episode:

So, yeah. Lumberjack Club needs to make an educational presentation in order to stay a thing.

Tugnut is chilling in a lawn chair, eating a burrito and telling his life story (”I thought about moving to Canada, but I don’t speak Canadian...”) while Ren does work on his car. Now she’s a mechanic. This is child abuse, I swear. She’s about to quit as his assistant, but she looks up and sees Larry and Wexler blissfully driving around in his convertible. She gets jealous and keeps working for Tugnut. These student/teacher relationships are so, so strange and not appropriate. Let’s be real... 

Anyway, the whole assistant war thing starts to come to an end when it becomes obvious that Ren is much more qualified and has a better relationship and understanding with Wexler than Larry does. Larry royally messes up as Wexler's assistant and ends up doing a lot of things wrong. Including inviting Wexler’s mother to school, putting nutmeg in his coffee, and forgetting to pay Wexler’s car insurance bill. (Really, what adult would trust a 14-15 year old to pay their bills…) 

Louis organizes the most impressive Lumberjack Club presentation ever within a few hours at the most. I do like seeing Louis at least fully see his schemes through, though. So that’s nice, I guess.

It’s like a freaking carnival.

Nate returns as the musical entertainment. I love this guy, lol. Everything’s going well, until Louis and Twitty chop down a tree during a demonstration which falls on Wexler’s car. Ouch. Wexler’s devastated and sobbing, but manages to mutter “Look what they’ve done to my sweet, sweet ride!” through tears. That made me laugh harder than I probably should’ve. Wexler faints when he finds out Larry didn’t send the insurance payment, and nowww Ren is responsible for Wexler’s literal life. 

Something always gotta go wrong. Louis was actually sort of pulling this whole Lumberjack thing off.

Wexler could be on his deathbed right now and it’s up to Ren to save him. Wow. “Breathe, Principal Wexler! Breathe!!!”

Turns out Ren sneakily sent out the insurance payment the other day and everything’s fine. The episode ends with Ren becoming Wexler’s assistant again. The end. 

So yeah, that’s it. I’m still shocked at how short the Lumberjack Club plot actually is. Pretty crazy how it somehow managed to burn itself into the memories of so many people. I’m also like, 99% positive it was inspired by this Monty Python skit. There’s even a song playing during the school presentation that’s near identical melodically (and lyrically a bit) to the one sung in this skit. The fact that it’s just a subplot also affected my ranking, because I’m not the biggest fan of this episode’s main plot. I love Larry/Ren conflict.. but this situation is just... slightly annoying to me for some reason. ALSO! I realized the other day that I should base my rankings on character development, as well. I’ve actually been doing that subconsciously so far, I think. Barring a few, the majority have been filler episodes basically. No material that actually advances the overall arc of the show. Just random, silly plots -- which makes it difficult for me to really consider it a “good” or “great” episode. And unfortunately, that’s what Lumberjack Club is to me. I’m so sorry. I just love these characters so much, so when there’s little to no character growth in an episode.. it sort of bothers me. I know the show is silly, but there’s a lot of heart there as well. Episodes that have a little meat to them are the ones I’m more fond of. 

We’ve officially reached the point in my list where I drew a line separating the lower half from the better half though, guys! The ball’s really rolling now. I’m excited. 

Thanks for reading! Were you a Lumberjack Club fan? Did you start your own?! Please, do tell. Haha. 

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[legacyofhopefdn]

An Honor and a Partnership: The First Lady’s Visit

Tuesday, July 25, 2017 12:30 PM CST

The day had almost arrived.  We’d spent months planning for this, and even longer debating whether it was something we should even do in the first place.  But 4 home makeovers, a couple new bank accounts, 2 extra employees and countless hours of legal document revisions later, we were finally ready.

Following the inevitable 11th hour flurry of activity, which included small repairs, painting, expanding activity space and reorganization of supplies, the first wave of DINAF (Honduras child services) employees came from the capital city to tour our facilities.  One worker noted the difference in the children who are cared for here.  “In most places the children run to me and hug my leg.  They beg me to take them with me.  But here the children are happy, content and attached to their caregivers.  They know that they are safe.  It is a beautiful thing.”  The next day was going to be specifically about our short term crisis care program, but noting the difference that family-style long-term care makes was no small victory.  It’s something we’ve been tactfully, yet consistently, trying educating DINAF about since we took in our first child almost 4 years ago.

6:30 PM CST

Shortly after nightfall (yes, one downside to living near the equator is early summer sunsets), a caravan of the First Lady’s secret service entered the neighborhood.  Other than their signature white Toyota Prado SUVs, they were fairly nondescript; which made Matt and Tyler feel a little less out of place as they scrambled in paint-spattered clothing to wrap up a last minute project.  The security team began touring the buildings the First Lady would visit and marked strategic locations for positioning team members the next day.  They also commandeered a bathroom in our school building, which would be exclusively for the First Lady’s use as needed… they think of everything. Wednesday, July 26

7:30 AM CST

A steady stream of trucks began arriving with the tents, chairs and tables for the event, as well as another pickup full of donated clothing, supplies and food.  While clearly a big reason for the day was to generate good PR for a government that often struggles to gain the trust of its constituents, they really went above and beyond in ways we had not witnessed before.

9:30 AM CST

The real fun began as the military arrived with canine teams to sweep the area and all the rooms in each of our ministry buildings. Honduras is a small country of only about 8 million people and significantly fewer resources than the United States, so it wasn’t quite the same spectacle as say Melanie Trump coming to visit, but they took it quite seriously.  Many neighbors attempted to peak past the fenced off areas to catch a better glimpse of all the hubbub as military and secret service personnel stood by with guest lists like bouncers at a VIP night club.  I’m sure they chuckled watching the intermittent parade of staff and children moving from one house to the next as we were asked to vacate each building so the dogs and their handlers could do their job without interference.

2:30 PM CST

This was the moment that all the preparation, practice and pressure had been leading up to.  Technically, it was leading up to about an hour and half prior, but late starts are pretty fashionable here.  We had about 3 minutes notice as we saw the First Lady’s entourage following their police escort down the main highway leading to the subdivision where we live and work.  Upon her arrival, the festivities kicked off immediately.  It was a well organized event comprised mainly of speeches: the First Lady, National Director of DINAF, the mayor of Santa Rosa, the director of another nonprofit in town and myself.  We were also treated to a couple of traditional Honduran dances from one of the local public schools, and our preschool girls were invited to perform their recital routine they learned in their ballet class earlier in the year.

All of this was to celebrate a very simple action that took no more than a minute or 2… On Wednesday, July 26 Legacy of Hope officially signed a contract with DINAF to continue providing emergency short-term care for children ages 0-18 who are experiencing a crisis.  Since opening our “Centro de Paso” over 18 months ago, Legacy of Hope has provided care for over 220 abused, neglected, abandoned and vulnerable children and adolescents.   The First Lady’s attendance at the event and participation in the signing as the Witness of Honor made what had been well-honed, yet unofficial, program now an official partnership.  This contract was the culmination of months of planning and hard work and we pray that God will continue to use Legacy of Hope to plant seeds of hope in every child we serve.

Our work here is so much more than providing a safe place to stay and sleep.  It is our mission to help children begin to heal from their trauma and loss.  Our integrated programs are aimed at addressing not only the immediate physical needs of the children we serve, but also their educational, emotional, social and spiritual needs.

This work is often heartbreaking, but it is also one of our greatest blessings, as we see children begin to heal from their loss and trauma and achieve their right to a safe and loving family. They leave our care knowing that they are a valuable prince or a princess of God, that their hearts have begun to be filled with hope, and that they are taking steps to be a victor over their circumstances instead of a victim.

We are committed to continual implementing of the best research-based practices and to be a voice for vulnerable and abandoned children.  Everyday we strive to improve our ability to meet the diverse needs of children and adolescents who have experienced great loss and trauma until every child is a valuable member of a safe and loving family.

We are thankful for our successful partnership with the DINAF office in this region and look forward to expanding this program to respond to the needs of children and adolescents in crisis.  We thank God for His favor.  With God before us, we will continue to pursue justice and mercy and declare Psalm 82:3-4, “Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked.”

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