#smile or go to jail // connor

[wambsgansshoelaces]

Turmoil; Chapter 9

Roman Roy x Reader

Word Count: 3.518k

You walk slowly back and forth on the cool marble flooring of Shiv’s apartment, trying not to slip on your socks. You're gesturing vaguely at your laptop as you pace, which Roman had gotten to project on her living room TV. You have the spreadsheet of Connor’s financial ruin pulled up, letting everyone mull it over.

“We have many options right now, and all of them are good,” you tell your miniature peanut gallery of the siblings- minus Connor -, plus Gerri and Greg. “We serve Connor. All this does is get him off of our asses, gets us some spending money. Doesn’t eliminate the massive fucking problem that is Logan Roy, doesn’t deal with anything involving Waystar. Purely a ‘fuck you’ to Connor and he goes to jail for five minutes before Daddy bails him out.” You glance around the room, remembering your audience. “Uh, no offence.”

You get a collective grunt from the three siblings, all of them in a similar state of focus. Roman’s sat on the sofa, eyes trained solely on you rather than the presentation. When you catch his gaze, he gives you a nervous smile. You smile back.

“What I think we should do is start building a case against Logan. But we bait him with this fraud to get a stronger case,” you say. “We’re pulling things together. I can see us having an airtight case before the years up.” You pause. “We just, uh, need to finalize the entire… CEO thing.”

The more time you’d spent with the Roys, the more they got along less. With Logan thrown out of the company, ownership, control of the company was up for grabs. Each of the three of them though that they were the right choice. What you saw in Norway, what you saw when you first met Roman, was slowly self destructing.

You’re worried it won’t go back to the way it was before.

The siblings’ banter, their underlying love for one another. You’re not going to hear it again for a while.

The general consensus is that you are to start building a criminal case against Logan Roy. You have to tell yourself that if you fail, on the off chance that this case crumbles under pressure in court, that the rest of your life will with it. Losing to Logan Roy, at anything, has grace consequences. And in this instance? Your career will suffer the most.

Roman’s trying to figure out how to completely disconnect your laptop from the television when Gerri approaches you. You both offer each other soft smiles. You were similar, after all, and although lawyers didn’t get along most of the time, you got the feeling that you’d both give each other grace.

“It’s nice to meet you informally,” she tells you, offering her hand for you to shake. Her grip is firm, it doesn’t falter. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it out to Norway.”

“You didn’t miss much. It was a lot of peacocking, if I’m honest.”

Her voice drops so that only you can hear, even though everyone else is involved in their own business, nowhere near. “There’s a power struggle here. Neither of us are stupid.”

You gather your composure. Maybe this wasn’t the wholesome interaction you’d hoped it’d be. Oh, how you wish strategy would leave you alone. “Mm.”

“And I think, with our lack of familial ties, lack of allegiance, we’re in quite the position to just… make things go our way.”

Your eyes flit about the space around the two of you. Still, nobody’s within earshot. “And what’s our way?”

“The one where we benefit most.” Her gaze shifts from you to Roman, still sat on the couch, your laptop finally disconnected from the TV. As if he can feel your eyes boring into him, he looks up, catching you and Gerri staring. “The one where we have the most control.”

“Since when are you and Gerri all buddy buddy?” he asks the minute you step out of Shiv’s apartment. The bone-chilling January air smacks you in the face, blowing back your hair as you glance at him in the dark.

“We’re not. I met her today.” You simultaneously reach for each other’s hands, curling your fingers together.

“What’d she say?” he asks, voice just barely cracking. He brings his free hand to your intertwined ones, rubbing over the back of your hand in an attempt to warm it.

You don’t answer until you’re both in the car a few moments later, you sitting behind the wheel. “She made an interesting proposition about the entire… succession thing.”

He buckles his seat belt, not taking his eyes off you. “Yeah?”

“That her and I back you so that we have the power when you’re CEO.”

You tear your gaze from his, backing out of the apartment complex’s parking lot and pulling out onto the street. He says nothing for a bit, turning things over in his head.

“I mean, I wouldn’t really be against that,” he says carefully, failing to sound convincing. “I wouldn’t like it, but I mean, CEO, and the two smartest people I know pulling the strings so I don’t fuck up…”

“You’d be fine with that? You wouldn’t want, I don’t know, free will?”

“Well, it’s you and Gerri. Sure, you’ve both had your cold and calculating bullshit, but neither of you are capable of rendering me completely useless.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, glancing at him when you stop at a red light.

He shrugs. “Just that you’re physically incapable of slighting me, because, you know”- he gestures at himself, taking your hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel and planting a kiss on the back of it -“and Gerri doesn’t even have it in her.”

You roll your eyes. “I mean, I could, but I won’t,” you say, teasing. He keeps your hand in his as you drive, night time New York lights blurring by.

“Would you do it, though?” he asks quietly. “Do you think I could do it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Am I… am I capable?” You can tell he’s still looking at you, but your eyes are in the road.

“Of course you’re capable,” you say immediately. “But it sounds like you don’t really… want it.”

“I mean, I want it. I want more for myself. I just… don’t really want Waystar. I want more than just fucking around in my stupid fucking office and having… having no substance.” The car’s in the parking garage of your own apartment now, but neither of you make a move to get out. He’s looking straight ahead of him, eyes slightly glazed over. It’s an expression you’ve never seen on him before. He looks troubled, like he’s actually at war with something in his head. “I mean, I feel like a week ago I would’ve strangled you for it. Now, I think about it, and it’s so… so boring.”

Your hands are still wrapped around each other, so you begin stroking small circles into his skin with your thumb. “Boring?”

“Unfulfilling. Dull. Like, what, I make billions of dollars every year for the rest of my life, doing absolutely nothing to earn it, and then I just die? What kind of life is that?”

You turn so that you can face him. “I didn’t know that was on your mind.”

Roman gives a mirthless laugh, bringing your hand to his shoulder. Vaguely aware of what he wants, you rub absently. “I didn’t, either. I don’t know.” His fingers trace over the back of your hand, still staring out the windshield rather than holding your gaze. “You make me feel all of these new things. I’m thinking about so much more, now that I’m taking you seriously.”

“You weren’t taking me serious before?” you ask playfully, trying to lighten the mood. You lean over the center console, using your hand on his shoulder to keep you steady, pressing a hot kiss to his jaw. “In the end, don’t do anything you don’t want to. Life’s not worth it if you’re not happy.”

You step out of the car, and Roman’s not far behind you. “You know,” he begins once you’re both safely inside the apartment, “I have no idea what we’re supposed to do.”

His coat gets tossed into the hallway closet, yours not far behind after he coaxes it off of you. “We’ll just do what we can.”

“You’re not very reassuring,” he mutters, shutting the closet door and pushing past you into the kitchen. You follow, reaching for his shoulders from behind him once he stops at the kitchen counter. He drops his face into his hands, somehow both tensing and relaxing at your touch.

“Roman.” Your thumbs glide over his shoulder blades, and he doesn’t respond. “What’s the actual problem here? We can talk. I’m here for you.”

“He’s my dad, Y/N. In the end he’s still my dad.” You gently knead his shoulders in an attempt to soothe him. He still doesn’t turn to face you. “Which is why it hurts so fuckin’ bad.”

“Tell me what hurts, Roman. We’ll fix it, I’ll fix it.”

“I want… I want him to love me like I love him. But I know-” he chokes on his words, and you realize he’s crying. You falter for barely a moment when he abruptly turns and buries his face into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your back. You feel his tears trickling onto your collarbone, and you feel a twisting in your chest. You cradle the back of his head with one of your hands, the other going to the small of his back. “But I know it’ll never happen.” His grip tightens on you before he continues. “Yeah, that shit with you, and Gerri, and CEO… it sounds so fucking good, but Y/N, when I fucking dreamed of it, the only reason it ever mattered was that it was him. He wanted me there, he thought I was the best. But it was all just a dream, anyway. It doesn’t fucking matter if that’s not how it goes.”

He sobs into your shoulder, and you don’t move. You keep holding him. You’ll hold him until he lets go. You hope he doesn’t.

“We’ll figure something else out, then. It’s okay, Roman, it’s okay.” You press a tentative kiss to the side of his head. “You’re getting yourself worked up. We can talk about this later, yeah?” He pulls away to look at you, waterline still glistening. You cup his face with your hands, thumbing away the stray tears on his cheeks and under his eyes. “Wanna watch that show I was talking about the other day? Make you feel better, take your mind off things?”

He takes a deep, controlling breath, calming himself. “I know a better way we can get me to feel good,” he murmurs, not wasting any more time, taking you by the jaw and pulling your mouth to his. If your first few kisses were careful, arguably sweet, this one was reckless. Roman kisses you without abandon, mushing your lips against his. For the first time, he’s needy, he’s greedy, he’s fucking desperate. Messily, he’d turned the two of you so that your back was to the counter. “Up,” he utters, mouth barely leaving yours. He reaches behind you, barely gesturing at the counter top.

Vaguely, you register, and you brace your hands on his chest and jump, managing to land where he wants you. The counter isn’t that high up- it wasn’t a struggle. Immediately, he’s pressed up against you, hands sliding down your legs to loop them around the part of his torso they are dangling by. While your hands go to cup his face, his slide back up your clothing to settle on your hips.

You kiss him again, and again, and again. The only thing you can hear is the blood rushing through your ears and the soft noises of your lips on his. You pepper kisses onto his lips, and he makes quiet, contented noises. He’s completely relaxed. He’s letting you do whatever the fuck you want.

“Feeling better?” you ask into his mouth before kissing him again, long and deep, fingers digging deeper into his skin.

He groans in response, the vibration against your lips spine-tingling. “So much fucking better.” He pulls his mouth from yours, to your disappointment, and the both of you are panting, vying for air. He doesn’t pull away entirely, instead leaning back in to dot kisses to the corners of your mouth, then down your chin, down your neck. “You look fucking gorgeous from this angle. A fucking goddess among men.”

☾𖤓

When the morning arrives, the two of you are tangled together, your head nestled into his chest, his head atop yours. His arms are wound tightly around you, keeping you flush against him in a refusal to let go. When you wake up, all you can smell is the faint scent of his aftershave from the night before. You never want this to end.

You don’t open your eyes, trying to get even closer to him. You barely rub your cheek against his chest in an attempt to burrow into him. Roman murmurs softly in his sleep, shifting, bringing you with him and pressing his nose into your neck.

His breath fans over your skin, deliciously warm, sweetly soothing. You bring your hand to his cheek, gently stroking, admiring his peace-laden face.

You spend the next half hour like this, just looking at him, reflecting.

Your fiancé. Your Roman.

You’d never expect, in a million years, that this would be how you ended up. You let your fingers trace calming patterns into the crook of his jaw, and he’s practically purring. You savor these fleeting moments, this peace.

It’s like a dream. Everything is in slow motion, and you can feel everything before it happens. You know you’re going to fall for him. You’re going to fall so fucking hard. You’ll scrape your face on the pavement, skid your knees, bleed for him.

Also like a dream is the looming sense of doom. The feeling that you’re grasping at straws, waiting for everything to suddenly slip away. Because you know it will. You know, whatever path you take, it intersects with Logan Roy’s, and there’s quite the conflict in the distance.

Roman grunts from under you, shifting so that you’re laying on the bed rather than him. “Fuckin’ tryna kill me,” he mumbles into your neck. Despite his words, you can feel him smiling into your skin.

“I want all that money of yours,” you tease back, letting him drape an arm over your torso, readjusting so that his face is buried in your chest.

“Mm, don’t act like you don’t already own everything that I do,” he says, sleep still playing with his voice. “God, you could tell me you wanted to live in the White House and I’d blow all my money renting it out for you.”

You laugh airily, and before you know it, you’re both up and about, getting ready for work.

“I forgot to tell you,” he calls from across the apartment, him in the kitchen, you digging around in your closet. “The shareholder thing. Looks like Dad’s trying to rally the troops. He has all the old-timers questioning everything Ken does.”

“Anything from Marcia?” you shout back, finding the outfit you were hunting for.

“She agreed to meet at the firm. Also, I heard from that pompous piece of googly-eyed garbage that Connor’s already had a lawsuit processed. He goes to court in a month or something.”

You stroll out into the living room, watching Roman muck about the kitchen, making breakfast. It smells good, at least, and you can tell he’s melting cheese over eggs while he scrambles them. “Are you talking about Pierce, or Greg?”

“Pierce. I don’t think Greg is that bad…”

You snort, rounding the counter to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Whatever you say.” He turns to briefly smack a kiss onto your cheek in return before getting back to his eggs. "Hopefully your daddy makes a scene.”

“Never refer to him like that again.”

At the firm, you decide that you’re going to pretend to keep working on Connor’s case. You’re itching for shit to hit the fan, to see Logan step in. As far as you know, everything is in place, and you’re getting closer to catching him red handed.

On your office phone’s intercom, your assistant buzzes to get your attention. “Siobhan is here.”

“Send her in, Cherry, thank you!”

When Shiv’s sat across from you, dressed in a power suit, she’s distracted. “I didn’t know you employed solely pretty people.” She gestures at you, then looks back at Cherry’s desk.

You laugh. “I do my best.” You absentmindedly click a pen, turning some thoughts over in your head. “So how are we going to play this?”

Shiv relaxes a bit in her seat, regarding you carefully. “I say we go for the jugular. There’s no reason to go easy.”

You lift a shoulder in a half shrug. “It’s your call.”

Another buzz. “She’s here.”

“Put her in Conference Room C. Love you lots, Cherry.”

Shiv flushes slightly. “Her name is Cherry?”

You shoo her out of her office before she can continue the conversation, and the two of you make your way down the hall. You see her through the glass before you get to the conference room. Marcia sits, hands folded primly in her lap, lips pressed into a thin line. You sit yourself in the chair directly across from her, Shiv following, settling in beside you. She wears a steely expression, her face devoid of emotion.

“Is it really so bad, just telling Dad you don’t want him anymore?” she asks Marcia, leaning back into her chair.

“That is not the topic of today’s conversation,” Marcia manages back, tone icy.

“Before we get to that,” you tell her, “you’re going to have to swear a few oaths. You’re Catholic, aren’t you, Mrs. Roy?”

She nods, hesitant. You reach under the conference table, where a small storage container is attached, and pull out a Bible. You stand, round the table, and make her set her hand on the holy book.

You swear her in, and you’re back in your seat next to Shiv. You fiddle with your pen, as does Shiv with hers. Your notepads are set before you both, at the ready to take notes.

“Just so you remember,” Shiv drawls, “if we find out anything you say here is untrue, you’re in deep shit.”

“Let’s start out easy, light.” You cross your ankles over each other, keeping your eyes on Marcia. “How long have you and your… new friend been seeing each other?”

She sighs, lips pursed. “A little over a year now.”

Shiv’s lips press together, keeping whatever comment she had lined up to herself. Instead, she asks, “What are you aware of, if anything, that my father has done that isn’t… to your taste?”

Marcia takes a moment to respond. “Bribes. Threats. What’s new?”

“You’re going to need to be a bit more specific,” Shiv replies quickly, pen poised over paper.

“Well,” Marcia says, drawing the word out, “he’s had private meetings. With investors, with accountants, with employees. He always has something to hold over them. There is always some hidden record, some bastard child, to bring them to him.”

“And if we were to ask you to remember who some of these people were, would you be able to come up with names?” you ask carefully, glancing down at your empty notepad then back up at Marcia.

“Yes, I’m sure I could.”

You and Shiv both jot things down.

Shiv opens her mouth to continue, but Marcia beats her to it. “There is something important you should know.”

“By all means,” you say, trying to be encouraging.

“I have come to know your first case quite well,” she tells you, averting her gaze. “It is a shame, what happened to you.” You and Shiv exchange a glance. “But despite all of the theatrics my husband enjoys, what he’s presented to you still is not the full truth.” She takes a moment, formulating her next sentences. “It was not Connor committing the fraud. It was Logan. He manufactured evidence, he framed his son, and I… I’m fairly sure the poor boy thinks he committed the crime.”

The room is dead silent for what seems like ages. You don’t know where to look. Your eyes flit from Marcia, who seems to be contemplating something in her head, to Shiv, who looks just as confused, just as off put as you do.

Marcia seems to decide something, then continues speaking. “I have had enough of the drama. I will testify in court against my husband if you help me turn our relationship into a thing of the past.”

You throw Shiv a triumphant look before turning back to Marcia.

“That sounds like quite the respectable deal.”

[freakingholland]

"Law of attraction" – Asher Millstone x gn!reader

A/N: There aren’t enough HTGAWM fics here on tumblr so here I am with this little something for Asher! If you want to talk about the show or if you have ideas for some imagines feel free to slide into my asks 😊

Warnings: swearing, mentions of exam-related stress

Summary: The Keating 5 and reader are preparing for exams. Who would have thought that exam anxiety could give somebody enough courage to express their romantic feelings?

Set around season 3, post vacation but pre-jail era.

Word count: 1K +

If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist (needs a proper update)

my wattpad archive is here

my AO3 archive is here

-

September meant no more partying, but more preparations for the fall exams. You were stuck in the evening-lit library alongside Laurel, Asher, Michaela, and Connor. Wes did not take part in the study session since he was stolen by Annalise. They were preparing for a particular case with the help of Bonnie at Annalise’s place.

You could feel your eyelids becoming heavier and heavier. It was an nth hour of staring at your books, scrolling through documents and researching papers. The palms of your hands were stained with yellow and pink highlighters. You were sat between Laurel and Asher.

You glanced up from your notes to visually check on your friends, not wanting to disrupt them. Laurel’s eyes met yours and she smiled slightly. Tiredness was visible on her face as smudged mascara created a shadow underneath her eyes.

You looked to your right, heart skipping a beat as you caught sight of Asher, hunched over his notes, his posture sagged from exhaustion. The gentle blue light from his laptop’s screen reflected in his pretty brown eyes, giving them a shimmering hue that accentuated his warmth. His usually well-groomed hair was tousled and slightly disheveled.

His presence had a soothing effect on you, managing to lift your spirits even though he looked visibly tired. You couldn’t help but wish you could retreat to the comfort of your apartment with him. Yet, despite the butterflies in your stomach, you couldn’t muster the courage to admit your true feelings for Asher, leaving you trapped in longing for something more.

What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if saying something changes everything between you two? The thought of losing the closeness you have—of turning something so natural and easy into something complicated—keeps you quiet, even as your feelings for him grow stronger.

“So… I’m trying to remember this definition of Res Ipsa Loquitur and I keep messing it up. It’s so fucking long. Mind if I recite it to you and see if it sounds right?” Ash asked whispering, leaning into your ear.

“Go ahead.” you responded.

“Okay, here it goes: the thing speaks for itself, it refers to situations where the nature of an accident-- implies negligence due to the mere occurrence of the event.” he paused for a second.

“The doctrine—umm… allows a plaintiff to establish a presumption of negligence without direct evidence… provided the event is of a type that does not normally happen without negligence, and the instrumentality causing harm was under the-- defendant's control.”

You nodded with a grin.

“That sounds pretty solid.”

“Thanks.”

He exhaled heavily and leaned back in his chair crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

He shook his head no.

“Dude I’m so tired.” He murmured.

“I can tell. Me too. I could really use a nap.” You also leaned back in your chair.

“Mmm… a nap.” Asher reached out to grab his cup of now cold coffee. After taking a sip or two he turned back to you.

He laughed at his own thought.

“Remember that damned Civ Pro final?” He said.

“Oh yeah, you came out looking pale as fuck.”

“Seriously, I thought I was about to pass out right there in the exam room…”

“I’m starting to freak the fuck out if I’m being honest.” He exclaimed.

Michaela overheard the conversation and chuckled slightly.

“And what is that supposed to mean!”

“I told you to start reading that a week ago. But you guys were too busy with Annalise’s cases.”

“Aaaas alwaaays.” She added mockingly.

Ash only rolled his eyes in response to her remark.

“You’re not the only one who’s stressed out, but we got this.” You tried to reassure him.

He spaced out for a couple of seconds.

“You are right angel. We got this.”

He stood up abruptly and reached out to grab both your mugs.

“Anyone else wants some more coffee?”

You could feel your cheeks burning up. You eyed Ash up and down as he was making his way out of the room when your eyes met with Michaela’s. She gave you a wink and smiled.

*

The hours ticked by, and the evening grew darker.

The silence was suddenly interrupted when Oliver burst into the library, a cheerful grin spreading across his face as he carried a plastic container full of freshly baked cookies.

“There is absolutely nooooo way in hell that you made those!” Laurel said jumping up from her seat and walking towards Oli.

Oliver tilted his head pretending to be offended and smiled at her.

“It’s good to see you too! I did. You all look like you could use some glucose.”  he said with sympathy in his tone.

She quickly took one of the cookies and bit into it.

Everyone stopped in their tracks and locked their gazes on Laurel to see her reaction.

“Okaaay these are… not too bad actually.”

“Gimme one I got to try!”

Michaela reluctantly bit into a cookie. She started nodding after taking two more bites.

“Not too bad huh?”

“Okay alright… pretty good Oli. Good job hun.”

He walked towards her and embraced her in a hug, making sure not to spill the cookies.

*

As the study session wrapped up and everyone started packing their bags, Asher turned to you, his eyes a mix of exhaustion and excitement.

"You know," he began, his voice softer now.

"Once we get through these exams, I think we deserve a break." You looked up, curious, as Asher continued.

"How about we celebrate with dinner? Just the two of us?"

The sudden invitation made your tiredness fade slightly as you quickly considered the offer.

"Dinner sounds nice. "

Asher's grin widened, clearly pleased with your response.

"Great, it’s a date then” he said, his tone playful yet sincere.

The others exchanged quick glances but pretended not to hear, letting the moment pass without interruption. With that, you headed out of the library, finally chatting about other, less boring matters.

You delicately poked Ash’s side. He looked down at you and hummed.

“Sooo do we have a plan for the dinner or-?”

“Mmm… I was thinking of something low-key, maybe just some good food at my place and no textbooks in sight?”

“That would be perfect.”

-

A/N 2: Part 2 soon? Yes? No? :)

[felicitysmoaksx]

anything Rheese and the 'come back, be here' series?

Hi anon! Thanks so much for the prompt. So this drabble is from Guilty By Association. It was adapted from an outtake scene I had, but I don't think I can flesh it out enough to get it to be a full fic. In this au Connor did call his dad for help to get Sarah bailed out.

Family had always been a tricky thing for Connor. At the age of eighteen, Connor had cut his father and sister from his life as if they had been rotten flesh (in his father’s case he had exactly been rotten like rotten flesh) but sometimes rotten flesh had their uses, Connor kept telling himself that as he found the number he had been searching for in his contacts, pressing his phone to his ear. 

“Connor, my this is a surprise,” Cornelius Rhodes’ voice was already grating on his son’s nerves and he had only answered the call. It must’ve been a new record. Connor swallowed back his retort of annoyance. After all, he was calling to ask his father for a favor. There was more of a chance of catching more flies with honey than vinegar.

“Dad, I need a favor.” There was no use in small talk. Connor hated it, besides if he tried, his father would snuff it out. 

“Oh?” 

“I need you to pull whatever strings you have at the CPD and get someone out of jail for me."

"And why would I do that? You certainly haven't been..." Connor tuned out the rest of what his father was saying and resisted the urge to throw his phone at the wall.

"Because Dad," he sighed agitatedly. He had put Sarah in that jail cell for nothing. Because his patient was ruined by his own self-entitled father, and now Connor was doing the same with his. But this was for Sarah. His wife, who was only in this situation because she had been backing him up. She was worth breaking his own self-imposed rules for. "She's been my wife of three years and your daughter-in-law."

[LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Sarah kept her back and eyes closed as she leaned against the concrete wall of her holding cell.

"Sarah Rhodes?" Someone called out and Sarah picked her head up, glancing around as she raised her hand. The police officer moved to the door of the holding cell. Then it was unlocked and held open for the curly-haired brunette.

"You're free to go."

"What? How is that-" Sarah asked as she started forward. Then a movement caught her eye and she turned toward it. There stood a man she had only seen from afar and in old pictures. Cornelius Rhodes stood a little ways away, looming and eyeing her warily.

The brunette sighed internally, bracing herself as she made her way to her father-in-law whom she hadn't met once in the last three years she and Connor had been married.

"Mr. Rhodes," she said quietly.

"Daughter-in-law," he said in equal quiet, flinging the title like it was an insult. She didn't take the bait though. Instead, she gave him a wan smile.

[LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Sarah was escorted the rest of the way by her father-in-law to see her husband waiting for her, looking wary and tired.

“So I come out of surgery to find out my wife has been arrested. I’m still wondering how we got to point C when we started at A.”

“She was going arrest Maggie for it and we both know that ED needs her. She keeps it running like a well-oiled machine. So I stepped in and took her place because she had your back with the blood draw and it’s like I told her, you’re my husband. You're more my responsibility than you are hers.”

Connor huffed, but still leaned in to kiss her forehead, forgetting that his father was standing behind them. “Greying prematurely is a real thing, you know.”

She laughed as he wrapped her in her coat to protect her from the Chicago arctic blast, “You just never thought I’d be the one in jail. You thought it’d be the other way around, didn’t you Dr. Rhodes?”

“Nuh-uh,” he wagged his finger at her, “That tone or name is not going to work right now, because we have to go back by the hospital. Mrs. Goodwin and Maggie both want to see you.”

Then Connor glanced up, finally meeting his father's eyes for the first time. His tone was surprisingly sincere when he said, "Thank you for this. I really appreciate it, Dad."

Cornelius Rhodes couldn't find it in him to speak because he was witnessing his son as a husband for the first time. So when the older man met Connor's eyes, he merely nodded and watched the couple make their way out of the precinct.

[crowrave]

Some more facts of the Cains!

These ones are strange (in a silly way)

Crown:

He eats oranges with the skin on, and claims that they’re bitter. Everyone has told him multiple times to peel the orange and yet he never does. (“Did the crash to Dawn Island make you lose your common sense too?”)

They’re obsessed with the different types of sharks. Absolutely will go on a 20-hour rant about how much they like sharks. They are appalled at the fact Connors eats sharks.

He makes that one face of that car being threatened with a knife while smiling often (even though the internet wasn’t a thing in the 1800s)

Keeps crashing the ship because he won’t pay attention to what’s ahead of him.

Connors:

Loves stealing small picture frame so he can put his own friends’ photos in them

Likes to gnaw on the metal bars in the Navy cells because he likes the taste of iron (they had to make a special cell for him so he stops eating the cell bars)

They don’t talk much when strangers are around just to keep that ‘mysterious and brooding’ image of them around. This has however failed due to the fact he keeps ending up in jail to the point all the guards know him by name. He keeps coming back and they don’t know what to do about it (“Please Mr. Connors, you’re strong, you could literally be so good at being a hero just stop stealing picture frames and help people for the love of the gods-“)

This absolute blind bat needs some kind of contact lens because how the hell does he keep crashing into giant bright blue Navy ships

Crest:

Just wants the Navy to leave him alone but somehow they always appear at the most inconvenient times (Commodore Kai has caught him trying to use Iris’ Flare Magic in order to harness the power of the sun to bake cookies)

Whenever they’re thirsty, they just dip their head into the ocean and start chugging the saltwater as they sail from one island to another

Instead of eating the jail bars, he eats the rocks of the cell. The Grand Navy is so fucking done with him at this point they’ve at one point put him in a cell made of dirt. He could have easily broken out, yet chose to stay to be polite. (“Sir, this is the 5th pound of bricks you’ve eaten- are you okay???”)

This dumbass is both blind in one eye and is almost constantly drunk from seawater who the fuck let him drive a ship

[twoidiotwriters1]

The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: The way this chapter makes me yearn?? Jail -Danny Words: 2,241 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'reckless driving' -by Lizzy McAlpine & Ben Kressler

XXXV: I Don't Have Any More Live Laugh Love Left in Me

Ara's absently spinning her newly acquired flintlock, Nico scowls at the scene and grumbles. "You shouldn't own a gun."

"Easy, Neeks. As much as I don't like you, you'd be a waste of bullets. Besides, Hazel said I could keep it."

The boy makes a face. "You're out of control." She huffs and spins the gun again, Nico snatches the firearm and eyes it with annoyance. "Where's the safety in this thing?"

"The safety's in place, jackass. I wasn't playing with it without making sure it's safe," she scowls. "That's the problem with you and Lily, you think I throw knives up in the air and catch them with my eyes closed. I'm not stupid."

He hands the gun back. "You're stupid if you think this is about us not believing you can do your job. For Hades's sake, you've killed more monsters in the last week than I ever thought you'd face in our lifetime! This is about your psyche."

"Why would you care about that?"

His voice comes out sharp and resentful, he pulls the words out of his chest with difficulty. "You and Lily are the only people I can call friends."

The girl stares at him. "Wow... Is that supposed to make me feel bad?"

Nico frowns. "Excuse me?"

She smirks. "You think you can't get more friends? Is that it? The campers don't hate you, you know? What they dislike is that you keep popping out of dark corners without warning—You and Lily have got to stop doing that, it's rude."

Nico's mouth opens to argue, but he seems more confused than angry. "What?"

"I think campers detest me far more than they could ever dislike you!" She snorts. "They're used to big three kids by now, and for what it's worth, Travis and Connor Stoll consider you a distant friend at the very least. They like how easily you rile me up."

Seeing that Nico is still speechless, she keeps going. "Lily and I are no exception to the rule, you could have more friends if you stopped assuming they're all against you. They think you're badass, they just don't approach because they think you don't want to hang out with them, so take a risk."

He scowls at her. "And you know all about taking useless risks, right?"

Ara smiles, unbothered by his hostility. "You know... I know why Lily's angry. She thought I'd grow to be different since I've always been the emotional one, but letting my ugly feelings out... that's not who I am. I can't release them, they're too much. I don't get why you hate me so much, though."

Nico thinks of Lily, and how she's stuck between two idiots who refuse to do anything to save themselves. "I don't hate you..." he doesn't feel like unpacking that, so he changes the subject. "If I give camp a chance, do you promise to pull some of your feelings out?"

Ara's voice comes out with amusement. "If I agree, the only way you'll escape this is if I die. Even then it's not certain, considering you're the son of Hades, and I'm acquainted with the Underworld. Making a promise to each other is like making a deal with the devil, don't you think?"

He makes a face. "Yeah, but I know which buttons to push to get you to do things, and you know mine. We can make sure the other keeps their word."

Ara sighs, knowing that's accurate. "Yeah, I think so."

"So... deal?" He reaches out to shake hands. 

Ara holds his palm firmly. "You're on. I can't wait to become more of a nuance to you."

"I can't wait to see you cry about overcooked s'mores again," he smirks.

"No one wanted to eat it! Can you imagine what that does to the self-esteem of a s'more?"

Nico tilts his head frowning. "That's an insane question." His eyes move to something behind her. "And you have other things to worry about."

Ara looks over her shoulder and spots Leo getting closer to where they are, she turns to Nico only to discover that he's gone. The girl hasn't figured out how he manages to hurry out of a scene without tripping over himself.

"I'm sorry."

She turns back to Leo and blinks. "What?"

He runs a hand through his hair. "What I said before... I'm sorry, I—"

Ara steps closer. "You were asking a question and I freaked out, that was messed up. I'm the one who should be apologizing." 

Leo looks up at her intently. Sometimes when facing the sunlight, her eyes have a rainbowy glint as if they're made of glass. Most of the time, their brown has a maple syrup tone sprinkled in. Right now, they're clouded by guilt.

Ara can't keep doing this to him, she's certain that no matter how much Leo doubts her, no matter the bad feelings, jealousy, or disappointment the boy might face, his love will remain intact. She has to be more considerate towards him.

"You had every right to be angry. I asked you something personal that was none of my business," Leo crosses his arms like he's trying to protect his body from her.

Ara thinks of how hard it was to be around Leo when they first met, and how hard it'd be to live without him now that she knows him better. The girl glances up to the sky as if praying, then she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, preparing for the next part. 

"It is your business."

Leo steps back. "No, I—"

Ara holds him in place. "We need to talk."

Back in her cabin, she sits cross-legged on her bed, they closed the door so there is no chance of getting interrupted. Leo's hugging her Octopi with one arm, and she's got Almighty in compass mode, her thumb running over its design.

"So... this is a long and complicated story, but I swear on the Styx it's true."

Leo pulls out scraps of metal and wire from his tool belt. "I'm all ears, beautiful."

She gets butterflies over his off-handed petname, he's so used to being affectionate that he can't stop even when they're angry—if this even counts as being angry.

"The curse has to do with our relationship."

Things between them had kindled quickly and made him the happiest he'd ever been, it was too good to be true. Leo always knew, deep down, that there was a catch. He stays quiet and lets her explain, working silently on whatever he's building.

It takes a lot from Leo not to storm out and set the Athena Parthenos on fire. Do the gods want saving? Well, so does he. Good freaking luck getting it. He doesn't ask for much nowadays, and the one thing he wants more than anything, he can't have it.

Leo speaks at last, very quietly. "How do you know all this?"

"Aphrodite," she responds, staring at her hands. "She talked to me the day we landed in New Rome. The rest I sort of... figured it out."

"So you've known..." he makes a quick calculation. "For almost a month? And you're telling me just now?"

"I had a good reason."

"I don't see it."

"Well, Helen and Paris—"

Leo interrupts her. "They caused the Trojan War, but that's them. What's that got to do with us?"

She looks at him without understanding. "I'm not following."

Leo scowls at the thing he's building. "We keep repeating history because only you knew about this. If you would've told me, I would've been careful. But that's just it, right? You don't trust me."

"Leo," she replies calmly. "Look at all you do to keep me happy, so I don't leave your side. Don't you think I'm entitled to be a little worried?"

"If I'd known, I would've—"

"No, you know that's not true," Ara cuts him off gently. "You built a ship for a bunch of people you barely knew—I know you offered to use the fortune cookie to help Hazel find Nico, and I know you offered help to Frank as well. Everything you do it's for others. How can you expect me to believe you'll choose yourself this time?"

Leo shakes his head. "If I'm Paris the loser, then I killed Achilles."

"Maybe," Ara responds, not knowing why he's bringing that up. "But the story has many versions—"

"If I killed a child of Olympus once, then in this life I'll fix that. Maybe that's how the curse will break."

"That's not the reason the curse exists. I told you this isn't your fault—"

"It is!" He exclaims. "And you always knew it! No wonder you wanted me to get lost when we met, your soul knew I was bad for you and I forced myself into your life—My Tía Rosa tenía razón, estoy maldito y te voy a hacer daño—"

"Leo, calm down," Ara tries to stop his rambling, reaching for his hand to absorb his panic.

"You're better off without me," he takes his hand away before she can hold them. "I knew it made no sense for you to be with me. You're dealing with Olympian Stockholm syndrome—"

"Okay, that's a fake thing men made up," Ara stops him in a harsher tone. "And I can't be better off without my match. Our soul lights are the same," she makes a face, hating having to confess that.

Leo doesn't know how to respond to that, he's not even sure he knows what she's saying. "Soul light... like a... a soulmate?"

Ara looks at him with concern. "Maybe I should leave that for later—"

"No, no, we're doing this," Leo sits upright. "Alright. Soul light. What's that?"

"Uhm... if the color of your soul matches someone else's, that person complements you. Some call them soulmates, but many people in the world can share your light, and sharing the color doesn't mean you have to date them. It's open to interpretation."

"So... our soul lights are the same color?" He asks slowly. "And you knew it since the first time you saw me? You see them all the time?"

"Only when you're uh, feeling butterflies? It's kinda vague," she sighs. "Anyway, I don't know if we've shared soul lights in every lifetime, but in this one we do. That can't be forged, Aphrodite can't meddle with them, nor the fates."

Leo stares at her, the gears in his mind heating up with how fast they're working. His hair starts to smoke. "Okay... well, being in love doesn't make our situation all that better, does it?"

"That's what the prophecy is for," she continues, feeling a bit in control at last. "It's our last chance to make Oenone's curse go away for good and stop the death cycle. If we figure it out, then maybe you..." her voice breaks. "Maybe we'll have a chance to be happy."

"Gaea has to be part of the answer," he says determinately. "If your prophecy is happening at the same time as the big one, that means they overlap. Through Storm or Fire, the world must fall—I take part in both prophecies. See? It's something I have to do."

Half of getting something done is believing you can do it, but Ara doesn't want Leo to believe this. "I play a big part in this too, if only I'd kept myself away from you then maybe—I mean... The last time I liked someone... I know it's not necessarily correlated, but that's not what I'm saying here—"

"Arae," his voice is so gentle that it makes her go silent. Leo reaches for her hands and she doesn't move them out of reach. "I'm sorry you had to deal with this alone for so long, but get this... knowing about the curse doesn't change a thing. You make me happy. I don't mind loving you."

Leo doesn't know what to do with this information. She hadn't mentioned liking anyone before, but he has a pretty good guess as to who it is. He fixes his posture and tries very hard to find the right words.

"Don't blame yourself for the bad things that happen, you do good things. You keep us safe... and you lean on me and I lean on you, remember? If we go down to the Underworld together, I'd die happy. I mean it."

"I don't mind loving you" and "I'd die happy"  are probably the best and worst things she's ever been told. He wants her even if she brings him hell. Ara wishes she could be the person he loves without also having to be the one who hurts him. It makes her hate her world, which is a dangerous thought for the daughter of Olympus.

The girl speaks hoarsely. "Don't you see that this is the reason why we've gone through all this pain? I can't let you choose this again."

He cups her face. "I don't care if I screwed up a hundred lifetimes, I'm sure I loved you like crazy in each of them. I was meant to be yours, and I don't wanna fight it."

"And this is why I couldn't tell you," she scowls, struggling to hold back her tears, "because if you don't fight it, we die."

Leo doesn't want to ruin what he has with her with thoughts of what might or might not happen if he continues to love her. His heart is not in salvation, it's entirely set on Ara.

"Hey, that's a nice haircut," he runs his hands through her hair, changing the subject so she smiles again. Now that he knows why he likes doing that, he can't help but try harder. "Can I stay here tonight?"

Ara laughs and presses her forehead on his, feeling weird about having to lean down even while they're sitting, but she's starting to get used to it. "Get out."

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh

[cvbullshit]

Incorrect Quotes with the Aurora Brumbley AU

Aurora: Why does Jr look so sad?

Draco: He took one of those "Which Character Are You?" quizzes.

Aurora: And...?

Draco: He got Neville.

Aurora: Yo, is Neville sleeping or dead?

Barty Crouch Jr: Hopefully dead, I hated his guts.

Draco: Yeah, so did I.

Neville: Okay, first of all, fuck you-

*The squad is having dinner together*

Vince: Gregory, can you pass the salt?

Goyle: *Throws Connor across the table*

Goyle: I really like this 'good guy, bad guy' thing you guys have going on.

Connor: It's not an act, it's just that I'm mean and Vince isn't.

Goyle, going over Connor's resume: Okay, so right here, it states that you’re creative. Connor: Yes Goyle: Okay... may I know what you create? Connor: Problems.

Goyle: Guys… the headmaster just called— Abby: It was Colin! Colin: It was Ian! Ian: It was Kaylee! Kaylee: It was me!

Goyle: Time for plan G. Abby: Don't you mean plan B? Goyle: No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties. Ian: What about plan D? Goyle: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago. Colin: What about plan E? Goyle: I'm hoping not to use it. Kaylee dies in plan E. Kaylee: I like plan E.

Goyle: What does “take out” mean? Colin: Food. Abby: Dating. Kaylee: Murder. Ian: It can be all three if you're brave enough.

Barty Crouch Jr: Watcha got there..? Aurora: petting a ostrich A smoothie.

Aurora: They don't make them like me no more. I'm the last of my kind. Barty Crouch Jr: Thank god.

Aurora: Go to Hell Barty Crouch Jr, tearing up: I wish I could

Aurora: God, give me patience. Barty Crouch Jr: I think you mean 'give me strength'. Aurora: If God gave me strength, you'd be dead.

Pansy: Look at the buns on that guy! Barty Crouch Jr: lying on the floor, covered in hamburger buns Goyle:: This is the comedy police! The joke's too funny! Pansy:: I'm not going back to jail!

Pansy: In your opinion, what's the height of stupidity? Barty Crouch Jr: * turning to Goyle* How tall are you?

Pansy: Barty Crouch Jr, I am questioning your sanity… Goyle: I never questioned it, I knew his sanity was missing from the start.

Pansy: You were stabbed. Do you remember anything? Barty Crouch Jr: Only the ambulance ride to the hospital. Pansy: That wasn't an ambulance, I drove you. Barty Crouch Jr: But I heard a siren. Moaning Myrtle: That was Peeves. Peeves: Sorry, I got nervous.

Pansy: You're smiling. What happened? Moaning Myrtle: What? Can't I smile just because I feel like it? Peeves: Barty Crouch Jr tripped and fell down the stairs today.

Pansy, about Barty Crouch Jr: Apparently we're getting someone new in the group. Moaning Myrtle: Are we stealing him? Peeves: New or used? Pansy: Wonderful responses, both of you.

Pansy: Screams Barty Crouch Jr: * Screams louder to assert dominance* Moaning Myrtle: Should we do something?! Peeves, observing: No, I want to see who wins this.

Pansy: Count me in! Barty Crouch Jr: Who the hell are you?! Pansy: Oh, you know my sister! She worked at Wendy's. Barty Crouch Jr: Oh yeah, Moaning Myrtle! How is she doing? Pansy: Oh yeah, not too good. She's been dead for the past month. Peeves: What the hell, she didn't tell us!

Pansy: Can I be frank with you guys? Barty Crouch Jr: Sure, but I don't see how changing your name is gonna help. Moaning Myrtle: Can I still be Moaning Myrtle? Peeves: Shh, let Frank speak.

[elvesandlanterns]

Ghost a helpline part 10

Uncle Tucker part 2: conversations are had and the Masters family finally move to Gotham.

Diana could practically see her comrades sputtering at the Captains words. She felt conflicted, “I understand Marvel you are also my brother in arms. The trust I have in all of you because of that is very important to me. We are not writing her off as a threat nor are we going to go after her.” At this she threw a pointed look at Bruce, “We just want some information on her that’s all. We don’t know anything about her and are justified in being cautious. “

“From my understanding you all decided it was a good idea to contact her not the other way around. And now the Batman is going to do what he does best and come up with contingencies because he feels insecure.”

Diana put her hand on Clark’s tense shoulder.

“Captain that is not-“

“The same way you’ve been trying to find my weaknesses for years. So if you’re that desperate to find one then here. She is my weakness and if anything happens to her I don’t know what will happen. Do you understand me?”

“Marvel! We are not-“

“Understood.” Batman grunted, “I still have questions.”

“So do I.”

Diana looked between them and shared a look with Clark, hopeful Batman would know what not to ask…. Clark opened his mouth first, “You two were in a war?”

A grin, “What did you think I just made up the Captain part of my name for kicks?” a humorless laugh left him.

“Right that makes sense, you’ve been around along time but isn’t she too young.”

“In a way, Konstelacio is considered a ‘forever child’ uhh she’s pretty much stuck that age.”

“So she just has the body of a teen but is actually an adult.”

“No she is a kid, and always will be. She’s just sorta stuck. She may have lived a long life but she’s still a child.”

Diana pondered over it. It’s wasn’t anything she didn’t expect. She was even use to it, on Paradise Island children were taught to fight, to kill when necessary. War was something Diana knew. But it felt wrong.

“A demon child with resources, connections and reality altering powers.”

“She’s a child who loves her family, collects trinkets and helps people.”

“But who exactly is she helping. What is stopping her from being summoned by Lex Luthor or Felix Faust or any number of villains.”

“She can decide who to help and who not to help you know. They can’t force her. Trust me they’d be sorry if they tried.”

“You just said she’s a child, anything could happen. They wouldn’t have to force her when they could manipulate her.”

Diana smiled leave it to Bruce to care about a child he barely meet, even when he was scared of them.

“Also we can’t just allow a potential danger to run around buying souls.”

Diana took it back, Bruce was making a mess.

—- —- —-

Konstelacio followed the guard to the sitting room, Uncle Tuckers kingdom always felt comfortable to her. It was warm, sun filled and quite frankly Konstelacio had a lot of leeway here. A type of get out of jail free card that made her feel safe, but also nervous. She would not embarrass her family again, not here.

She bowed to her uncle as he entered the room, “I greet Pharaoh Tuck, Prince Consort to High King Phant-“

“That is enough my constellation, Princess Violet how many times must I ask that you call me Uncle?”

“I only mean to show my respect.”

“None needed come here. Tell me what I can do.”

“What I didn’t !” Had he heard from Dan already?

“Come on Violet I know you and I know that if you came here for help it must be something big.” Her Uncles smiles always looked genuine, she loved them.

“It’s a long story.”

“Eat some snacks and tell me everything.”

—- —- —-

Well that had been a mess Clark thought after both the dark knight and Captain had stormed out. Clark still wasn’t sure were he stood on the matter, he didn’t want to make the same mistakes he made with Connor. But just like with Connor none of them had enough information. It was time to call another meeting, ugh and invite Constantine to it.

Clark stopped walking, wait wasn’t there a demon on the Titans?

—- —- —-

Vlad’s eldest, Dandy Masters, parked the car outside the Gotham estate. Their new home was located far enough away that their neighbors wouldn’t be able to hear them scream, the manor was gothically decrepit, and the outside plants looked dead. It’s perfect thought Vlad, just perfect.

—- —- —-

Tucker nearly spat his coffee, “YOU MEET BATMAN.”

- The guards outside the door twitched, their pharaoh never yelled. He sounded shocked and was quickly shhhuhed by the princess. Hopefully this Batman would not be causing ether of them stress in future. The bird like guard pursed his beak, whoever this bat was did bode well. He would have to tell the others to keep their swords sharp.

“You SWINDLED Batman out of his gadgets!!”

- Yes the guards were probably due for some more training, just in case.

“Guards please get ready to escort the Princess to Pandoras realm.”

- All the guards, the bird adjacent ghost thought to himself. He had a felling something was coming.

“A WHAT?!”

- Something bad.

—- —- —-

Tucker moved his newly allotted gadgets into piles looks like he had a belt to work on. He picked up the handkerchief. “Violet what did you want this for?”

“I… had a suspicion I needed to prove.”

“And did you?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m guessing the tracking device wasn’t a part of your plan?”

“A WHAT!”

The man held his nieces hands, “Konstelacio please tell me what else is going on. I’ve already promised not to tell anybody.”

Violet wanted to believe him but she knew he’d tell on her to keep her safe. He wouldn’t understand, the Al Ghuls were dangerous she need to keep THEM safe! No matter what.

“Not yet, not until I figure everything else out for sure.”

“Alright but when you do please please come and talk to me okay.”

“Okay.”

“Alrighty then off to Pandoras then okay, be nice to the guards and tell her and Ghost Writer I said hi okay. And be careful delivering that antidote to the league. Minimal contact is the - oh you’re hugging me.”

Konstelacio smiled into her uncles shoulder, she would tell him everything someday.

[offeistyfire]

continued

@smugsurgeon

The last few months felt like a blur in time. Because Sylvie Brett was struggling; she was trying to compartmentalize it all; to tell herself she was okay. To tell herself it was normal to miss someone you loved. And man did she love Matt, he was the perfect guy. It had taken so long for her; to accept how she felt about him. For her to be okay with falling in love with him. And finally he had said it back; he loved her; and for a bit a few months we were on solid ground; on the same page. Until the shoe dropped he wanted to move to Orgen, he wanted to be there for two kids that lost a fallen dad years ago and who had to witness their mother going into jail; it was a hard pill to swallow. I knew Matt; his mind was made up, the other thing he was unsure of was me. I had done the whole following a guy before and it never ended well in my experience. 

As much as I loved Matt I refused to be the one to give up my life, my apartment, my career for a relationship that wasn’t a sure thing. I convinced myself into believing long distance could work. I convinced myself that I was okay. I pretended by putting on a poker face with my friends; but the reality was, I was not remotely okay. I missed him. I missed waking up next to him; I missed hearing his voice, the list went on and one. I felt like my life was consumed based on when i’d hear a call from him, or a message. I hadn’t been sleeping right which was the result of tonight. Why I like a patient get advantage of me, why I had let the patient run when I was hurt. I was a well qualified paramedic, i knew how to approach patients; especially when distraught. Yet I had froze, I had messed up. I cared so deeply, I had the passion to keep pretending to be okay. But tonight opened my eyes. I couldn’t keep living like this; I had to prioritize myself. I had to let go of a great love; we’d always have someday. Connor he was a good guy. We’ve talked in passing due to the patients we see; but tonight was the first time we talked; on a more personal level. 

He cared enough to drive me home; to not pry into my deeper thoughts. He cared enough to grab dinner, and keep me company. I was a patient for him; meaning if my arm had come off worse from the stitches it would fall on him. That’s the most logical explanation as to why he wanted to drive me home; ensure my safety. It was sweet; of course I heard the rumors of his tenacity with women. He was a player; but that wasn’t the vibe I got. I think he was misunderstood and he let the whispers occur. But I never judged a book on its cover; which was confirmed when he spoke the phrase to me. 

“ I don’t judge, based on what I see. You’re a good guy Connor. Someday a woman will see it. I am sorry about Robin and the hassle the hospital probably gives you on your lack of dating life.” A harmless joke towards the end. It was nice to laugh again. To find a reason to joke and smile. The circumstances could’ve been avoided; my lack in judgement tonight; but Connor was somehow bringing a light back to my face. 

Head tilted towards the window. I felt the slight ache in my arm; which is why my free hand had placed itself almost comforting over the bandaged wound. I just wanted to eat and rest, that’s why tonight looked like in my mind. I just hoped Connor didn’t mind sticking around for a few hours. Friends? It was a nice idea; to be able to turn towards someone who didn’t know Matt who might be on my side, why I felt torn with myself. A small hint of a smile creeped onto the corners of my lips. 

“ Friends, I’d like that. Assuming you don’t mind hearing about all my baggage, it might have you running for the hills.” A quip a joke well partly because where I was emotionally felt like baggage. Nearing the restaurant; for the chinese food; I had let my eyes drop closed briefly. 

Easy to joke; to tease of the idea of another dinner; eyes lifted again to narrow my light hues on the male driving. “ In other words next time we go out, I have to get injured to get the kind of food I want, noted.” A laugh emitted through bare lips.

[lilyoffandoms]

For any pairing of your choosing! (Or the ones you haven't answered yet) : 12, 30, 47 and 74 (I'm keen on how how 74 plays out for Tyril/Maiele and Trystan/Gabriel)

Ahh thank you!! Especially for #74 hehe

12. What is something their S/O does that makes them flustered?

Let’s go Maiele since he’s always the one flustering Tyril like it’s his dream job (and let’s be honest it is). Not much flusters Maiele but he cannot take a compliment seriously and will always make a joke of it. So when Tyril is dead serious (and when is he not) about complimenting him and won’t let it go until he accepts it, Maiele gets a wee bit flustered. Beyond that, Maiele will always get flustered when Tyril is extremely formal in romantic ways.

Answers this one for Trystan x Gabriel here.

30. Describe how one character would cheer the other up after a hard day.

Maiele would tell jokes and cook and just do whatever Tyril wanted. Including practicing proper elven protocols hehe

Elam (TCH) would give massages and just tell stories of growing up or fairy tales they had heard growing up to amuse Kieran.

Answered for Tenebris x Connor (It Lives) and Kalen x Gabe x Cas (ID) here.

47. If it ever came down to it, who is turning to the darkside to save the other?

Maiele would for any of them but especially Tyril. (Gods know none of them would do the same in canon for MC). I do believe Tyril would eventually, but only after having exhausted all other possibilities.

74. Who's more likely to bail who out of jail? Would they give the other one shit for it?

bahaha!!! I love this one!!!

Tyril x Maiele: Tyril would bail Maiele out immediately without question but would proceed to lecture him on it for the entirety of the ride home and the entire next week or two. Maiele on the other hand would take great joy in the situation and would come ready to bail Tyril out but would have way too much fun with it all before actually admitting he was there to bail him out.

—————

“Well, well, well,” he smirked. “Now this is a scene I never thought I would see.”

“Thank the gods you’re here,” Tyril leapt to the bars from where he stood in the middle of the holding cell. “Did you pay bail?”

Maiele chuckled.

“Yeah,” he smiled brighter at Tyril’s relived face, “that would be a no on the bailing you out thing.”

“Wait! What?”

“You see I need to enjoy this a bit more. I’m the one with the criminal record not you. This is a unexpected and pleasant turn of events.”

“Maiele,” Tyril sighed, “this is not funny. Please, bail me out.”

“Wait, hold that look,” Maiele instructed as he pulled his mobile out and snapped a picture and his fingers started typing furiously across the keypad.

“What are you doing?” Tyril asked.

“Mal said pictures or it didn’t happen.”

“You told him?”

Maiele looked up with a grin, “Yep.”

Tyril made a swipe at his phone as Maiele took a lazy step back.

“And sent.”

He leaned in and kissed Tyril through the bars and whispered, “I’ll go see about that bail now.”

“Why bother. The real damage is already done,” Tyril pouted.

Trystan x Gabriel: Trystan would have the same amount of fun with it as Maiele would so Gabriel would never in a million years call Trystan to bail them out. Nor would he call Ruby or Uncle Tommy since both would immediately turn around and tell Trystan who would then show up with the bail money. Gabriel would call Mafalda who would come bail them out and then Gabriel would pray Trystan never finds out.

Gabriel on the other hand hehe

—————

Gabriel’s phone pinged and they glanced at it briefly.

Trystan: i need u

Gabriel rolled their eyes and chuckled. There was no way they were indulging him in whatever nonsense he had in mind. Gabriel went back to reading the case files in front of them until seconds later another text came through.

Trystan: prob going to b arrested ;D

Gabriel immediately picked the phone up and called Trystan. It rang and rang. They left message after message instructing Trystan to stop messing around and call them. When that didn’t work, they began calling some of their contacts at the various precincts to see if Trystan had in fact been arrested.

Eventually, having exhausted all possibilities, they waited and sure enough their phone rang.

“Hey gorgeous,” his familiar voice purred.

“Trystan, what the fuck! Are you okay?”

“Absolutely! These lovely officers here have been most kind and have seen me to some of their best accommodations. Complete with metal benches and new friends.”

“Trystan, what did you do? No wait, don’t answer that. Don’t say anything. Did you call your lawyer?”

“He’s on his way. This is not my first rodeo as he likes to say.”

Gabriel could hear the amusement in his voice.

“What do you need?”

“You.”

“Trystan, be serious.”

“Oh I am being very serious. I always need you to-“

A pointed cough on the other ends stopped where Trystan was going.

“What I need is for someone to bail me out. I thought that would be obvious, love.”

Well then, dear, what should be obvious,” Gabriel’s amused voice dripped with sarcasm, “is that I am not the one to bail you out. That would be your sister.”

“She said I was your responsibility now,” Trystan laughed.

“How many phone calls have you made?” Gabriel grew serious.

“You are my third. Lawyer seemed most important. Then Marguerite for bail but she said no,” he laughed.

“So I am… I’m call number three?” Gabriel sighed.

“You love me,” Trystan said.

“Do I?”

“Yes you do. Deeply and passionately and with your whole-“

Gabriel heard an officer interrupt Trystan.

“Got to go. See you soon with my bail money. You remember where I keep it, right?”

“Yes. But you owe me. Big time.”

Ask Me

[stellar-waves]

staring down the sun [34] *

⏯ chapter index

⚠ warnings: angst, slight panic attack, all seems lost...or does it?

. . .

time tells us what we're left with

. . .

She rubs her fingers over the inside of her right forearm, touching the sparrow tattoo that had healed unusually fast. A little bird. Elena had gone from a CIA agent to a rogue spy to a Saint, despite all of her hesitance to admit it. 

Now, she’s simply Elena. 

It took a long time for her to stop bouncing between anger and grief. It took a long time for her to accept that Connor and Murphy were gone. Whether they were dead or had simply run away, didn’t really matter…as long as they were free, as long as they were together. That was all she could hope for in the end.

But that moment still haunted her, that moment she watched helplessly and wordlessly as Connor and Murphy jumped off the roof and into the dark water below. Actually, it took a long time for her to say anything after that moment. The feds had taken Elena in for questioning, but she was still in a state of shock so her answers were mostly one-word sentences mixed with bouts of silence. As she slowly came out of her fog, she couldn’t help but smile at the realization she was inadvertently acting like the MacManus brothers when she first met them all those months ago. Strangely, she accepted the notion that she would go to jail after everything. Because she was alone. Again. 

“You’re free to go.” 

Elena blinked hard, sure that she had misheard the FBI agent who sat across from her. “What?”

“You’re free to go, Elena.”

“H-how? After everything—”

“Your country thanks you,” he said with a soft smile. “And the agency accepts your resignation, so to speak, with all documentation regarding your history as such to be destroyed.”

A single chuckle huffed from her mouth. “So they’re covering up the cover. Makes sense.”

“It’s just how the United States government works. You know that.” Agent Douglas closed the file folder and clasped his hands together. “And you understand you cannot disclose any of this with friends and family or otherwise?”

Easy. Because she was alone. 

She was, and then she wasn’t when she thought of the others. But just as she was about to open her mouth, Douglas held his hand up as his lips curled up again. “We let everyone else in your group go. No charges, no…” His face fell a bit as he sighed. “No bad blood, for lack of a better term.”

Her shoulders dropped with relief. And then her face flushed with the question she was too terrified to even think. 

“Elena…there’s a chance we may not find them,” Douglas said in a low tone. 

“What if you do? What will happen to them if—”

“Elena,” the agent paused, his mouth pressed together sympathetically as he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

What little hope she had left faded into a memory. And she was free to go. 

Bloom had found her at the airport after she’d gone through security. She handed Elena a small bubble mailer, sealed with her name in Smecker’s handwriting on the front in black marker. “One last order from motherfucking Smecker: Do not open that until you get to Ireland,” Bloom instructed. When Elena looked at her curiously, the Southern belle shook her head with a smile. “Just promise me, okay?” 

Elena nodded, and then laughed as Bloom hugged her. “You take care of yourself, yeah?”

Bloom squeezes Elena a little more. “You too, darlin’. And if you’re ever in Costa Rica…”

“Of course.” 

The women let go of each other, and Bloom grinned, fighting back tears as she rubbed Elena’s shoulder. Her southern accent was thick as she attempted that one Irish word the boys had taught her. “Sláinte, Jensen.”

Elena kept her promise, but the package remained unopened for weeks after she moved into her flat. Call it avoidance, whatever, her gut convinced her that whatever was inside would be the end. Accepting that Connor and Murphy were gone is one thing…knowing is completely different.

Finally, she rips open the package, inhaling a deep breath to summon the strength to deal with its contents. She pulls out a card, a folded piece of paper that looks like it has been ripped from a notebook, and then a small black box. 

The card, with a simple design on the front, held Smecker’s handwriting inside. A poem referencing love and friendship, with a note below reading, “A little bird told me that you would take care of this. Find me if you ever need anything. Your friend, Paul.”

Elena stares down the black box, her throat filling with fear, hesitation, and guilt. She swallows hard, unfolding the paper to find it’s the drawing of Connor and Murphy she left when she took off on her own. Her own handwriting still scrawled underneath, “Síochán leat.” Peace be with you. And then Connor’s handwriting below that, “Is fearr rith maith ná droch-sheas.” An old Irish saying that means taking action, even when the outcome isn’t clear, is often better than doing nothing. A good run is better than a bad stand. 

She smiles, her eyes burning as she reads what he’d written toward the bottom of the page. “Sláinte, mo anam cara.”

Her heartbeat vibrates against every single nerve in her body as she reaches for the box. And a tear slides fast down her cheek as she pulls Connor’s rosary out. 

She wipes her face with one hand, holding the wooden cross in the other palm and threading her shaking fingers through the beads. Her memory rewinds back to that night, realizing that she only saw Murphy wearing his rosary moments before they disappeared off the roof. “God damn it, Connor,” she half-laughs to herself, tears still staining her cheeks. 

With a sigh, Elena places the rosary around her neck, tucking it inside her shirt like she did that first night she went on the run with the Saints.

Knowing is different.

. . .

. . .

The bartender greets her as she walks through the door, almost making her feel like she’s in an old episode of Cheers. She replaces the black waist apron on the hook with her jacket, and joins the old man pouring drinks with a soft smile. “Thought ye were taking the day off, lass,” he inquires, handing the cocktails off to the two young men sitting at the bar. “Miss me that much there now, did ye?” 

“Of course!” She pats him on the shoulder. “And it’s tomorrow, Marty. Tomorrow I’m taking the day off.”

“That’s right. My old brain ain’t what it used to be.” the pitch of his voice rises like a little kid. Elena laughs as she wipes the bar down, and Marty leans over quickly when he sees one of their regulars walk in. “Oh dear, Joe’s here for his daily therapy session,” the old Irishman teases. “Time for me to scoot out of the way.”

Elena tries not to rolls her eyes as Marty is just avoiding talking to the man himself, leaving her to be the one to listen to whatever problems this particular patron has now. “You’re a real sap, you know that?” She calls after him as he disappears in the back. 

The regular sits down at the bar while Elena already prepares a pint of Guinness for him. “Joe, how are you getting on today?” she asks, smiling politely, knowing whatever comes out of his mouth will be the usual sad story he gives every night. 

The night before it was getting passed over for some promotion, and Elena reminded him that he’d be better off without the added stress. “Aye, yer right, Miss Elena,” he nodded in agreement. 

Tonight, he actually talks about how the guy who did get the promotion is already up to his neck in paperwork and deadlines coming up quick. “Dodged that, didn’t I?” he smiles as Elena hands him the Guinness. “The Lord works in mysterious ways, yeah?” 

Her breath catches in her chest, moving her to place a hand on her stomach. She feels the wooden cross nestled under her shirt, hugging the line of the apron wrapped around her waist, and she exhales slowly. “That he does,” she answers softly, unable to hide the sad smile threatening her face.

Joe raises his glass to her, his eyes twinkling with appreciation. “Yer truly a Saint, Elena. Sláinte.”

Suddenly she can’t breathe. She can’t say anything as she turns and runs out the back door. 

She closes her eyes, sits down with her back against the building, and lets the evening air refill her. Any other day, she’d be fine. But any other day she wasn’t wearing Connor’s rosary against her skin. 

She hears Marty’s soft footsteps walk out and he slowly lowers his aging body down to sit next to her. He doesn’t say anything right away, he just sits there with her. Like he knows sometimes she just needs his presence, the reminder that she’s not really alone. After a bit, his voice speaks up gently. “What’s troubling ye, lass?” 

Elena avoids his knowing gaze, admitting, “I finally opened that package.”

“Oh dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear dear.” Elena blushes. Seven “dears” from the old man…that’s serious. “And what was inside?”

She looks at Marty’s bright old blue eyes, missing the shade of MacManus blue even more. Her lips twist as she shrugs. “It’s nothing. Just a note from a friend.”

He chuckles. “Nothing is usually something. And that rosary around yer neck is definitely something.” 

Elena drops her eyes to her hands, rubbing them together and running her finger along the scar on her left palm.  Her new lifeline. And Murphy was right…you can’t even see the suture marks.

Marty places a hand on her shoulder. “Yer off tomorrow, yeah?” Elena nods, sniffing back the quiet tears threatening to fall. “We’re not busy, take tonight too. Go clear yer head. Pray. Whatever ye need to do for ye.”

She looks up to her boss, the only friend she has left. “You sure?”

“Aye. I’ll talk to Joe and listen to whatever is troubling him now for ye as well.”

Elena smiles, a small laugh escaping her mouth. “He’s actually in a good mood, so your job just got a little easier tonight.”

“Thanks to ye, Saint Elena,” Marty says with a wink. He gestures his head toward the path leading up the hill. “Go on, then. I’ll be here if ye need me.” 

She unties her apron and hands it to Marty, and with one last pat on her shoulder, he disappears back into the pub. 

With a deep breath, Elena stands up, folding her arms over her chest as she starts up the path. She follows the gravel to the coast, watching the clouds change colors as the waves crash below the cliffs. She listens to the grass flutter in the breeze, leading her to nowhere in particular. 

She stops at the top of the hill, looking out to the ocean stretching out from the land she now calls home. There was nothing left for her in America, so she followed her heart back to Galway. And she couldn’t help but smile every time she’d hear that damn song in the pub. 

Despite the chill in the air and forgetting her jacket, her cheeks are warm as she smiles. She holds her eyes on the bright blue waves as they meet the horizon…that blue, that shade of MacManus blue fading into the glow of dusk. 

The wind whips around her, changing direction suddenly when the sun breaks through the clouds. And as Elena turns, brushing her hair out of her face, her heart drops when she sees him.

. . .

. . .

⏮ [33]

[35] ⏭

[wambsgansshoelaces]

Turmoil; Chapter 2

Roman Roy x Reader

slowburn romantic drama

a/n: I’m so glad you guys love this as much as I do!! kisses, enjoy x

Word Count: 2.313k

The Waystar building is daunting. It makes you queasy- not because of the architecture, but because of the people in it. You’re in Kendall’s office, his blinds drawn shut. You’ve been pacing for so long you think you’re going to wear a hole in the floor. Roman lounges on an armchair, his legs hanging over one of the armrests.

“You need to tell me everything you know about your father’s criminal history. It’s the only way out. Throw him in jail before he can do it to me. And then he’s rendered unfit to run Waystar and it goes to Kendall.”

Roman is playing with a tennis ball, tossing and catching it methodically. “He took Kendall out the will and replaced him with Marcia.”

Kendall sinks in his chair. “You could’ve told me that earlier.”

“Anyway, we all know my dad’s 100% a criminal. He just has so much money there’s practically no witnesses nor any evidence,” Roman continues. “We have to catch him with his pants down.”

“But in the act of what? We can’t just watch him 24/7/365. It’s not feasible,” you reply.

“Okay, do you have any better ideas?”

“We bait him. Is it unethical? Probably. But I think we’re all past that.”

Kendall gets up and goes to stare out the window overlooking the city. “You think maybe he’s laundered money?”

“What do you think he had to clean the money from?”

“Prostitutes,” Roman says confidently.

“That’s not illegal, genius.”

“Where’s your imagination, Y/N?”

You continue your pacing. “Let’s go down the list. Tax evasion? He wouldn’t go to jail for that.”

“Even if he did, he’d be evading an entire $2 in taxes. The bracket distribution is fucked,” Roman points out. “He covered up Connor’s property fraud. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

“It would be if we had concrete proof. Connor’s never going to testify and tell the truth, and I doubt we can find whoever he paid to forge the deed.”

Kendall shrugs. “I’ll try anyway.”

“We could try to get a confession,” you say. “But if he had a crazy enough attorney, it might not hold up in court.”

Roman rolls onto his side, staring at you. There’s no way that can be comfortable. “Why not?”

“It’s the twenty first century, Roman. He can claim that it was AI generated using his voice from speeches posted online. The only way it’d work is if he confessed on the stand.”

He throws you a dirty look. “Quit shitting on my ideas.”

“It wasn’t your idea. Plus, I’m just doing what any attorney with a brain would do,” you retort. “Your dad clearly has the money. He’ll probably find someone who’s thirty times the lawyer I am.”

“You’ll be fine,” Kendall assures you.

A knock on the office door interrupts your erratic pacing. Kendall opens it, allowing Siobhan to storm in. “He knows,” is all she says.

“Good afternoon,” Roman drawls in response.

“Congrats on your engagement party,” she snaps back.

“Party?” you ask.

“Your father in law is throwing you an engagement party in Norway.” She gives your arm a squeeze. “And I have to go.”

“Aww, I love you too, Siobhan,” you say sarcastically.

“It’s nothing against you. And call me Shiv. We’re friends.” She throws herself onto the couch. “I’m supposed to meet with a bunch of people here so that they can start digging. But not if I’m in Norway.”

“I can-”

“Your attendance is required as well, Kendall.”

“…Is Greg’s?” he asks. Shiv’s face splits into a small smile.

“I think he’ll forget about Greg. But none of us can ask him.” She turns to you. “Y/N?”

“I don’t even know who Greg is.”

“He works here. You can’t miss him, he looks like an egg,” Roman supplies.

Shiv nods. “He’ll have people start digging while we’re abroad, we get a head start without him being able to cover anything up.”

“We still haven’t figured out what to do about Marcia’s being the heir,” Roman says, going back to sitting lopsidedly on the chair and tossing his tennis ball.

“Vote of no confidence, I guess. Who’re the board members?” you ask.

“Me, Roman, Gerri, Frank, Karl, my dad, and five other partners. And you, now, I think.” Kendall sits back down, then gets back up, only to sit back down again.

“Do you think we can swing the votes our way?”

“How?” Kendall drops his face into his hands.

“He needs to do something dumb in public,” Roman says. “I dunno, like be racist.”

“Is he…?” You look incredulously at Roman.

“Probably.”

”We can’t bank on him probably being racist. Members of the board, vote him out, he maybe hates foreigners.” You sigh. “I need a break. I’m going to go get sweets or something.”

“Bring me back a cheesecake and I’ll kiss you,” Shiv replies.

“Back off, Shiv. That’s my fiancé,” Roman says sarcastically.

“Kendall?” You ignore Roman, still lounging on the armchair.

“Um, a cupcake? Chocolate?”

“I’ll be quick.” You make your way through the office bullpen before Roman catches up to you.

“Hey, wait. You didn’t ask what I wanted,” he says, walking backwards in front of you.

“Good job, you noticed!” you say bitterly. He rolls his eyes.

“Let me come with you?”

“Will you be quiet?”

“No.”

“Then also no.”

You wait for an elevator with Roman right at your side. “You’re a jerk. We’re supposed to be a team.”

“You’re the one who’s made it clear that there’s no ‘we’ in any situation.”

“What, you want us to be exclusive? Can’t get any more exclusive than engaged, and you that’s what we are, baby.”

☾𖤓

Later that day, you’re in your office at your firm. After you and Roman had gone back to Waystar, you’d gotten a call from your assistant saying that someone was at her desk demanding to see you. You’d weaseled your way to your office and asked her to send whoever it is in.

Connor comes storming in, the girl he was with at the party awkwardly in tow. “We want a lawsuit.”

“Hello, Connor, I’m doing fine, thanks for asking!”

“My girlfriend, Willa, and I are staying at a hotel while our house in the country gets renovated.” Without asking, he sits in one of the chairs in front of your desk. Willa stands silently behind him. “I took took our valuables from home and gave them to the staff, who said they’d hold them in the hotel vault and keep them safe. We went back last night and, lo and behold, everything’s been stolen.”

You stare at him blankly. “You’re wasting my time, Connor.”

“I’m being serious,” he exclaims dramatically. “Her diamonds and gold were taken, along with my best watches.”

You sigh. “I’ll have one of my associates take this. This is an easy suit, Connor.”

“You’re going to do it.”

You get up from your desk. “Why, pray tell, would I do that?”

“Because I have leverage. And I need the best on the case. This has to go through.”

“Excuse my language, but a fucking toddler could win this. It’s negligence- innkeeper’s law. They put your stuff in their vault, it got stolen, they’re liable. Case closed.”

You try leaving, but Connor’s immediately up and blocking your way. “No. You’re doing it, or I tell the papers.”

You scoff. “Fucking fine. Do you have pictures of everything that was stolen?” Connor smiles, satisfied with himself. “Images from the companies you bought the junk from is fine. Have it on my desk with your hotel reservations by tomorrow. I’m not going to spend too much time on this.”

He blocks your way again. “Thank you.”

“Bye,” you say, gesturing your office door. After Connor leaves, Willa shuffling behind him, Roman takes his place, collapsing into a chair. “When’d you get here?”

“Like ten minutes ago. Connor was stomping around like a toddler. What’d he want?”

“A bunch of stuff got stolen while he’s staying at the hotel. He wants to file a lawsuit through me.”

“He’s trying to waste your time,” Roman says matter-of-factly. “He knows the four of us are gunning for Dad, and by proxy, him, because Dad is the one protecting his ass.”

“What does Connor own that would be damaged by Logan leaving?”

“He’s a shareholder. If you oust Dad, he probably goes too, just to save face.” He kicks his feet up onto your desk. “And he’s just annoying like that. You know he pays that girl to be with him?”

You wince. You don’t want to think about that. “Why are you here?”

“I can’t come visit my fiancé?”

“No.”

“Too bad. Waystar’s hosting a charity dinner tonight. Or, technically, we are.”

“We?”

“Our first public apparence together. Isn’t it romantic?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. You don’t have the mental capacity for this. “Okay. Do you know what you’re wearing?”

“Same thing I always wear. Dress pants and slacks.” He gets to his feet. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, anyway. It’s just a bunch of corporate wannabes kissing my ass so that they can move up in the company.”

“Because your ego needs it.”

You manage to go home and change before Roman picks you up. Rather, the driver does. Both of you sit wordlessly in the back, until he tells you, “You look nice all dolled up.”

“I don’t look nice usually?”

“That’s not what I- never mind.”

Feeling bad, you glance at him. “You look nice, too.”

When you pull up at the venue, Roman scoots until he’s pressed up against the door and takes your hand, pulling you against him before opening the door and stepping out with you behind him.

The paparazzi is as aggressive as always, and you know you’re getting sick of it. When you’re both safely inside, he lets go of your hand. “I’m gonna go drink an excessive amount and pass out behind a curtain.”

You watch him wind into the crowd. You hope he’s joking.

Roman was right, earlier. This wasn’t the sort of charity dinner where people actually donate to charity- this was purely social.

You find Shiv by herself in a corner and join her. “I fucking hate these,” she tells you. “They could at least pretend to be here for a noble cause.”

You two spend the half hour before dinner chatting among yourselves in the corner. You thankfully veer away from talking about work and the clusterfuck that you’ve gotten yourselves into and instead idly discuss anyone and everyone you both see.

When you’re called to be seated for dinner, you peer at the the seating chart indicating that Shiv’s on your left with Roman on your right. You and Shiv take your seats, Roman nowhere to be seen. 10, 20 minutes pass.

“This is normal for him,” she tells you, in between bites. “He’s probably blackout drunk somewhere.”

“In public?”

She nods.

Once dinner is over, the crowd goes back to mingling. Shiv has to step away to talk to some client of hers, and while she’s gone, someone taps on your shoulder.

“You’re a pretty face I haven’t seen before.” It’s an old man. A very old man.

You try to just ignore him, making your way to the refreshment table and plucking a chocolate from a tray. He follows you anyway.

“What’s your name? What do you do at Waystar?”

You give him a dirty look and continue your inspection of the refreshments.

“You’re a feisty one, then?” He laughs, and it makes your skin crawl. “I like a challenge.”

You give him another look and round the table. “I have much better wine at my place. Much better than the garbage they serve here. Much.”

He follows you despite your pretending like he doesn’t exist. “I can tell you’d be a good time.”

Before you can do something rash, a warm hand goes to sit on your hip, grounding you. You smell his cologne before you realize it’s him.

“Figures you don’t know how to take no for an answer with all the whining you do to me for a promotion.” Roman pulls you flush against him. “Are you trying to fuck my girl?” Before the man can say anything, Roman interrupts. “The answer is no. And there’s also no showing your face here, or at Waystar, ever again. I’ve been looking for a reason to fire you. You were never an asset.”

He scuttles off, and Roman slumps against you, arm still hooked around your waist. “Are you drunk?” you ask him.

“Very,” he responds.

“I think it’s past your bedtime,” you tell him. “Can we go home?”

Arrangements had been made for you and Roman to start living together in a cozy apartment secluded from the rest of the city. You weren’t mad about it, really. You just hope Roman isn’t a slob.

“Tell what’s-his-face to pull the car up. I’m going to puke in my shoes.”

When you’ve sat down, Roman sets his head in your lap and stretches out along the back seat.

“How much did you have to drink?” you ask stiffly.

“Lots and lots.” He presses his face into your stomach. “Before we left, I had a lovely conversation with my dad. Told me how much of a fuck up I was, how you’re the only right decision I’ve ever made. And it’s not even true. I didn’t want this.”

You give his shoulder an awkward rub. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re involved in this. I should’ve known, way back then.”

“The worst part is, Y/N, as much as I try to hate you and blame you for this shit show, I can’t. You’re innocent. You’re a damn good lawyer that was just doing her job. And it pisses me off that you’re so fucking pretty, because I can’t have you, but I want you so bad.”

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"FORGED NAME TO GET DOPE STICKS," Hamilton Spectator. August 30, 1912. Page 14. --- Youthful Devotee At Shrine of Lady Nicotine ---- Shocked To Learn It Was a Very Serious Offense ---- James Carson Charged With Stealing 91st Rifle ---- "Now for a drag on a cigarette. Just watch me weave me left lung around this dream-stick," sighed 11-year-old Jimmy Murphy as he strolled along Barton street east and produced a package of cigarettes from his hip pocket.

But fate was camping on the trail of the youthful Jimmy, and just as he poisoned the air with a cloud of smoke Constable Hay, of the eastern station, loomed up and demanded to know where the "nails" were purchased.

"Why, I was croaking for a pill, so I wrote out a note and signed the name of Connors on it. Then I gave me messenger the price of the smokes and sent him to Souter's. He brought them back to me and dis is one I'm smoking now. That's all there is to it," smiled the infant worshiper of My Lady Nicotine as he took another pull on the smoke.

"That's not all there is to it. Mr. Souter will have to explain to his worship why he sold cigarets to minors," replied the constable.

Souter, who keeps a tobacco store at 767 Barton street east, explained to his worship that he was not present when the lad bought the smokes, and that his wife sold them. She explained to him that the boy brought in a note signed by the name of Connors, and she thought it was all right to sell the cigarets.

"Who is this man Connors?" his worship asked young Murphy. "Why, he used to run a barber shop on Barton street, but he moved away. I just signed his name to the note to get the smokes," replied Murphy.

"For a forger you are indeed candid and truthful. I must say," smiled the magistrate, "Do you know that men are sent to jail for life very often for doing just what you did?" asked his worship.

"Hully Gee, is that right, mister? Believe me, I'm goin' to cut out smokin' for keeps," replied Murphy.

After considering the circumstances surrounding the case, his worship allowed Mr. Souter to go with a warning to be careful in future about handing out cigarets to minors.

COMMITTED FOR TRIAL After an absence of many months, James Carson, jr., 93 Park street north, returned to renew old acquaintances with the court officials. Carson was charged with the theft of an army rifle from the 31st Highlanders' regiment. George Buckingham, color-sergeant of the regiment, identified a rifle which the police located in a pawn-shop on York street as one which he handed out to Private Dunning some months ago. When Downing left the city for the west, the rifle was not returned to the regiment.

J. Cohen, proprietor of the pawn-shop, stated that Carson entered his store last Thursday and so highly explained the merits of the rifle that he paid him the large amount of 60 cents for it.

"I don't know anything about rifles, but when he told me that it would shoot from here to Kingston, I thought it might be worthy 60 cents," explained Cohen. Later, when he attempted to sell it to a customer for $3.50, he was told that it was the property of the 91st regiment and that he had better report it to the police. Downing formerly boarded at Carson's home, and the police claim that he left the rifle there when he left the city. Carson was committed for trial.

CONTRACTOR FINED $10 Inspector Anderson is still on the warpath against contractors who refuse to comply with the building by-laws, and this morning Thirby Dowell, 40 Fairview avenue was nominated on the explain why his employees ... were mixing five wheels barrows of sand to one small barrel of cement.

....When I left the job yesterday I gave the men strict orders to mix five parts to one. If the wall that was put up before the inspector came is not stronger than the by-law requires, I'll forfeit $100," said Dowell.

"You say that Mr. Anderson did you a good turn by calling your attention to the breach, so it is only proper that you should reciprocate now by paying a fine of $10," smiled his worship, as he glanced affectionately at the large moss-rose that adorned his lapel.

COST HIM $1. Thomas Launders, 80 Chatham street, allowed the precious city water to trickle along the roadside into the sewers, and the attention of the police was called to the little breach. Launders was fined $1.

DISMISSED CASE. When Mary Bigamont, of Sherman avenue north raised an objection to her little girl being mussed about by the daughter of Brusquili Mostacco. She testified that Mostacco rusted into her house and informed her that he was going to kill her. Mary naturally objected to having a funeral in the family without her being able to hear the choir sing, and she told Моstacco so, but he grabbed her by the throat and threw her on the grass. This was her story. Mostacco's was sadly different, and the magistrate, with the wisdom of Solomon. wisely dismissed the case.

[returntosaturn271995]

Thursday, January 4th, 2024: New, clean, and with a sheen

10 things that happened today:

Put out contracting fires at work, and got a positive call-out in the Teams Kellogg's chat for Karen Cheng's filter getting 5 M organic impressions + 350,000 engagements. Hollah, bitches.

Beach walked and encountered adorable Yorkie puppies owned by an elderly couple on the way there. On the way back I walked past my neighbor's house just as a toddler popped up in a Cinderella dress to look out at the street. I smiled and waved at her, and she waved back. So cute.

Wore a ruched olive green midi-dress and my white vejas, hair down all day.

Despite having "Murder on the Dancefloor" stuck in my head, I continue to blast it.

Bought a new dining room table with matching suede chairs and unpacked the new kitchen utensils (about half of which I understood the actual use for).

Finished "Quietly Hostile" by Same Irby. Only three more books left for January.

Trump reportedly received at least $7.8 million in foreign payments from 20 (!) countries during his four years in the White House according to a new report from Democrats on the House Oversight Committee. Most of the money came from China. It’s exactly the kind of foreign interference and corruption that House Republicans are desperately trying to pin on President Biden via their bogus impeachment inquiry. FUCKING HOW IS HE NOT IN JAIL I COULD SCREAM????

Got asked out again by Tyler, said yes, but pretty sure my choker necklace is lost somewhere in his house. His response? "Choker? I don't even know her." Respect.

Watched old episodes of Sex in the City with Makenna (the one where Carrie is fashion road kill and Heidi Klum steps over her carcass), scheduled coffee with Monika, and plan to meet Natalie after work tomorrow.

Went through the drive-thru car wash in my leopard print robe because I'm forever a silly goose.

Text out of Context:

Connor B: lol you’d be an exceptional thief and I’d happily be a part of your crew. Always need a crew!

Erin Burks: Run my ship like a gentleman pirate

Connor B: Pirating used to sound thrilling but now it sounds miserable under those dirty ass living conditions. Couple pirates did it right though

Erin Burks: Any place without indoor plumbing? Couldn’t be me I LOVE bougie bathrooms Dream home: classic kitchen with modern appliances, bathroom with a shower out of the future, and an office behind a turn-around book case so I can avoid my children The lever to turn it? A copy of “The Doors of Perception” directly next to a red book titled “Herring”

Connor B: lol already have the detail of the lever

Erin Burks: I’ve wanted a turn around bookcase since I was five and saw it in Scooby Do, the height of luxury I’m an adult and I still think it’s cool as hell

Connor B: I want secret hallways all throughout the house and my secret room would be in the basement behind a fireplace that spins Going to be a BIG house

Erin Burks: ….so a dungeon Very Targaryen of you

Connor B: Someone has to have a bunker and it will be super nice!! Not a dungeon 😏

Erin Burks: Fire and no natural light? Dungeon

Connor B: The rest of the house has natural light I think I’ll be ok

Erin Burks: True, plus you can keep your secret family there “Flowers in the Attic” style

Connor B: Haha no no two families sounds like a nightmare. No chance I could deal with two.

Erin Burks: So true, the trips to Disneyland alone Or whatever it is people with children give up their freedom for.

[sodascribbles]

yet more honor among thieves rambling. im watching a playthrough lol

WHAT does bentley throw at dr. m is it a sleep dart why does it explode WHY DOES HE THROW IT

"Sly, no! Hold on, Sly-- hold on!"

an elusive picture of slys mom (just her silhouette tho next to connors) and a picture of who i can only assume is connor, mcsweeney, and dr m...........

THE HATS TOO BIG FOR HIMMM

the cooky-steelin' plan (sobbing)

pls imagine something eloquent about the fact that we never see what connor really looks like in these "flashbacks"- presumably bc sly doesn't remember

slys leg pouch doesnt fully wrap around his leg ?? might just be the lighting tho.

i wonder abt their sources how DID they find out abt murray

i love that Octavio is the guy they call old. not bison. who is from the 1800s

im obsessed with just abt all the villain backstories

this playthrough doesnt have the hazard room and im deeply upset about it. as a matter of fact i might find one that DOES bc i love the banter wkfhhehd

...when DO you get to the hazard room? its before u start Opera isnt it ?? unclear

i will not find one w the hazard room unfortunately but i have switched to a 100% run out of curiosity

gotta be honest Italy is probably one of if not my favorite episode ever

DIMITRI HI BBG

you've got some FUZZY DICE to come round here

MAIN MAN MURRAY the way he says it is so good

AW WHAT THIS PLAYTHROUGH DOESNT DO ALL THE SILLY OPTIONS (i mean i understand why i just like the silly options)

i love that the captions capitalize Bro

fun fact if you take too long crawling around carmelita will just repeat the presentation bc she doesnt think they were paying attention lmao

i love the apes(?) insulting each other. "You look a lot better in the dark, Petro. Seriously, you are an ugly, ugly man."

why does dimitri have a cigarette in a jail cell

"keep your HANDS to YOURSELF leon."

in love with the way dimitri talks, as we all are.

whys he call murray a Plump Dog though that's uncalled for /j

"HELLO ASSORTED MEATHEADS! and lady C:"

she tells her men to grab him and Nobody Follows

theres a couple hitches that happen in between games that im incredibly curious about, e.i. murray becoming The Murray between 1 and 2 and inspector fox going from her little smile and "ill find you, cooper!" to "she grew up and stopped taking grief from guys like you" that happens between 2 and 3

"You can't keep running for the rest of your life!" WATCH ME

"Greetings, old-- iNSPECTOR FOX?!"

murray's spiritual outfit model is so fascinating to me

AUDGJAHDHS they make me feel emotions /pos

the venetian safehouse fascinates me the door opens straight to stairs and the actual safehouse part is on the top floor

"now as non-law operatives, we can take a more... head on approach. wE'RE GONNA BREAK IN--"

OH WAIT ITS THE HAZARD ROOM HELL YEAH <<33

in love w them they're the best duo ever /hj

"hey, don't feel bad! those wall hooks were... kinda tricky!" "it was ALL supposed to be tricky!"

the ceiling of the hazard room is.... fascinating

theres always a certain level of. oh jeez what's the word. playfulness? between early game sly and bentley. it always kinda sounds like they're both smiling and joking around w each other and it warms my heart

this will not be the first time i talk about it

once more with the caption choices. on-line is hyphenated

YOU GET: A PRIZE!

bentley just kills a man.mp4

"Alright, smooth talker, try robbing this guy." see the above about their banter and their dynamic

though to be fair sly and bentley usually have a vague kind of playful/bantery vibe. it's just incredibly palpable during Italy, probably because they're the only two characters in the spotlight and therefore they get to be explored more

ok hold on im gonna get food b4 i continue

one food break later...

okay im back

"You're not gonna say 'I'm a lover, not a fighter,' are you?" "Well, not now." "Thought so."

in love w bentley just sending a man to murder sly

how DID they get all these guards into the hazard room. where is the hazard room

WBYS THE GUARD JUST SCREAM

bentleys voice when he says "now give this guy the business" send post

AND HE GETS SO EXCITED WHEN HE TALKS ABOUT THE BOAT. and sly sounds just So amused with his "yeah?" hes so used to this bullshit

i hope you're ready for me to talk ceaselessly about sly and bentleys dynamic it's my favorite thing snfnebbfd

"Against sleeping guards, I'm like a Greek god! All fall before me!" hes so silly i love him

nerves of steel?? you have no nerves of steel you silly anxious goob

AND HE GETS SO EXCITED ABOUT THE PPP (pick pocket pole)

sly ALSO murders a man

bentleys wheelies heart emoji...

THE HUMBLE RECON PHOTO!!

"There you go, Bentley, some wonderful pinups for our refrigerator." "They're lovely. High art!" "Seriously?" "No."

i love that murray shows up on the menu before you get him back that's so funny to me

huh. do you need all the upgrades for 100%? ill find out

"The Don is headed toward your position." "Great! Want me to take him?" "No!"

sly vc DO YOU WANT ME TO KILL THAT GUY FOR YOU? /ref

gotta be honest bentley i think killing him would also put an end to this nonsense

"Never thought we'd be helping out the cops." "Reaally? You always seem eager to aid Inspector Fox."

bentley and murray calling out slys crush on carmelita is my favorite thing wjfhwbdbwd

octavio singin as he goes azKEKFHWHDB THE PERSON JUST GOT CAUGHT LMAO

"I got a SHADOW, huh???"

SLY you NEED TO BE QUIETER you aLERTED OCTAVIO TO YOUR PRESENCE

octavio just bodychecked a dude lmao

i love how angry bentley gets about the fish tank especially he gets SO MAD i love him

"I- I can't believe it! He flooded that aquarium with tar! All those poor, dead fish! As much as I hate to see what heinous crime this fiend will do next, you should probably keep on his tail. Someday, the people will know the truth due to your pictures!"

"all those poor, dead fish!" LMAO

ok I've been on a ferris wheel exactly one (1) time but im like 95% sure the cart would tilt w/ sly hanging onto it

octavios captions are SO slow akdbhwhdbd

AND BENTLEY GETS SO MAD ABOUT THE FERRIS WHEEL. and then proceeds to call rewiring it "the dark side of electrical engineering"

bwa BWA <- the sly 3 job complete noise

i really hated Into the Depths on my first playthrough but that was mostly bc i was still bad at the game i think. it's really not so bad

what is it with the stupid 3d goggles WHY do they exist weve never seen them before and we never see them (w the exclusion of cutscenes and maybe one or two mentions) again

okay ive never messed up the doors in my life but im very glad bentley doesnt make fun of you for it i think id cry

also he does his idle animations while talking which means that sometimes he sneezes mid sentence and its really funny. bentleys idle animations are so good in general tho

bentleys and the ones from the safehouses

OKAY SO I DIDNT KNOW THIS UNTIL EARLIER TODAY BUT OCTAVIO CALLS 3 GUYS (mario, raphael, and julius) TO COME SEE HIM AND SAYS "if any of you catch these boys make a run for it [cat noise) shoot 'em in the back"

BUT WHEN YOU SEE IN HIS OFFICE THERES ONLY 2 DUDES. IMPLYING ONE GOT SHOT IN THE BACK .

OH HE SAYS JULIUS MADE A RUN FOR IT. OKAY ("julius made a run for it, and eh... [unintelligible]") i cannot for the life of me figure out what else he says there oops. maybe ill go replay that mission later and find out for sure

i know that's not particularly groundbreaking all things considered but again i didnt know it until earlier today so

once more Bentley getting excited about murder

"Synchronize watches, and..." you fuckin nerd

"Just as long as you're enjoying yourself, that's the important thing." again w the affectionate sarcasm

sly and bentley are both very sarcastic usually as opposed to murray who's pretty heart on his sleeve straightforward kind of guy which is probably why this ep & the hazard room sticks out so much for the banter. again bc its JUST the two of them lol

"Sorry, Sly, I guess the dinosaur has teeth!"

i love knocking the pigeons into fire it's so much fun

you get to hear the same "Intruders!" line like 17 times

fuckin piano computer lookin ass

i wish bentley and murray (and the rest of the team, but bentley and murray especially) had a little bit more... idk. reasons to free roam? like with the options of them as playable characters you would assume there would be more things tailored to their unique skillsets but a lot of getting around the overworld is very sly-focused, which i guess i get, but it means theres really no reason to play as the others except for missions

DESPITE KNOWING THAT ITLL ONLY MAKE THINGS HARDER BENTLEY GOING OUT OF JIS WAY TO HELP SLY SAVE CARMELITA bawling

bentleys such a fucking dork have i said that already i think we need to call more attention to him being a fucking dork

fun fact if you repeatedly tap □/r1 your gun will heat up slower BUT your finger WILL hurt by the end of it

haha they're cooper brother colored (blue, green, & pink/red)

though tbf most trios are if you think about it. but shh cooper brothers

"I hope you realize that by saving Carmelita, we're only making our operation here more difficult." "Maybe so, but what's the fun in stealing if there's nobody trying to catch you? Besides, she's helped us out in the past." "That, and you've got a thing for her." "...and I've got a thing for her. Look, I'll stash this boat, it might be useful for later. You stay out of trouble."

again, bentley and murray calling him out on his crush is priceless and i wish they did it more w bentley and penelope WLFJJWJDHE

okay funny story it's a few weeks later things happened anyway. going back to watching honor among thieves lol

ill probably split this post up into a few posts just so this one isnt 18 million years long

[blazenka]

Professional Affairs

During s3, Sarah and Connor meet and begin to grow closer. Could they just stay co-workers or fall into something more? How will Abby react when and if she finds out?

Original source: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6139386/1/Professional-Affairs

Chapters: 10

Published: 2010-07-14 - 2011-01-01  

Words: 17268

Rated: Fiction T - Language: English - Genre: Romance/Friendship - Characters: Connor T., Sarah P. - Reviews: 32 - Favs: 4 - Follows: 4

Exported with the assistance of FicHub.net

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter Three:

Connor entered the flat in such a daze he did not initially notice Abby sitting on their couch glaring at him. While replaying the previous events of that night over and over again in his mind, Connor couldn't help but look a little smug when he thought about Sarah kissing him.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Connor! Where have you been all night?" Abby asked as she jumped off the couch with accusation. "Uh… out," Connor answered her as he was brought out of his thoughts. "Out, just out? Really, Conn?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yes, I was out. I don't think I need to explain anything to you since you're not my mother," Connor stated as Abby looked at him in shock at his stern tone, "But I was at a pub with Dr. Page explaining the anomalies and the Arc, and of course, it took all night to do." Abby nodded with some understanding, "You could have called, Conn. I was kind of worried."

"Well, I'm home now and tired, so how about we both go to bed, ya?" he offered with a reassuring smile. Abby smiled back and nodded as they said their good nights and went to their respected bedrooms. She quickly stopped short before her door, "Connor, you know you can talk to me, right?" "Yes," he replied and quickly climbed the stairs.

After reaching his bedroom, Connor laid in his bed and stared at the rafters above. Sarah had kissed him; he was sure of the fact but not the motive. She could like him, which was a slight possibility. Of course, more likely possibility was she had been drunk and was lovey-dovey when so.

Ever since the whole ordeal with Caroline, any confidence Connor had as an attractive male had been shot, stabbed and then stomped to dust. 'And Abby was doing such a good job before then,' Connor thought lazily of his flat mate before forcing away the thoughts. Yet, Sarah could be a new possibility all together, and as Cutter was always saying, 'Time can always change'.

Monday morning came too quickly for Connor and Sarah as both had a ridiculous amount of questions racing around their heads. Connor decided to do what he always did best when he was having any type of problem; go to his work stations and throw himself completely into his work.

Well, that was the plan until Cutter came storming in that week and directed Abby, Jenny and Connor to go to a location where he believed another anomaly would appear.

Unfortunately, Sarah was directed by Cutter to stay and help with the matrix. "Help! I've been taken hostage by an obsessive scientist," she dramatized as she followed Cutter back to the lab. "Welcome to our world," Connor replied as he grabbed his coat to follow the rest of the team to the possible anomaly site. Sarah smiled in return before turning back towards the doors. Connor could get use to seeing that smile more.

As if the week hadn't been stressful enough, Connor had managed to - gotten himself thrown in jail for a whole night by a constable called Danny Quinn, whom he hoped never to see again; fight off weird gremlin creature that tried to kill Abby, Jenny and Ryan Mason; and to top it all off, inform Cutter that he was right about eh anomaly and the house, which Cutter replied, "Of course I was right." Now Connor just wanted to go home and possibly take a nice shower if Abby did not use all the hot water.

Sarah went through the long process of acquiring access badges and the right paper work, and then was sent around town gathering research for Cutter. She was just on her way back to the ARC when she ended up stumbling into a woman on the street. Sarah initially thought nothing of it until she got back to the ARC and could not find her new identification papers. It was rather ridiculous considering Captain Becker knew exactly who she was.

Well, it was until another soldier reported to Becker that Sarah had already entered the building. Becker had then made a mad rush through the building until he found the intruder at Cutter's locker. More terrifying was that Cutter identified the man as someone he saw months ago being killed by a creature while on the other side of an anomaly.

Sarah tried to convince Cutter it was not the same man, especially if he was attacked by a giant scorpion. Yet, Cutter remained adamant that it was the man, even if it did not make sense. He continued on the conclusion that it had to involve Helen, his suppose-to-be-dead ex wife. 'God, this place really is bonkers,' she thought, slightly amused. After a day like that, Sarah just wanted to go home to her small flat and take a nice shower.

Sarah got home in record time yet considering the time of night when she finally managed to get out of the ARC building, it should not have been a surprise at the lack of traffic. 'Am I really going to get home this late now while working there?' she thought to herself. She also thought about just jumping into the shower but a bath at that moment sounded wonderful to relax her sore muscles while trying to build that matrix time-thingy. So while filling the tub, she let her mind wander about the past couple of days and it amazed her how working at the museum seemed like months ago.

Unfortunately, her mind then wandered towards Connor - smart, brave, adorable Connor. She wondered if he had a girl friend, how close Abby and him, what his interests were, and what he was doing at that moment. Would it be weird to call him? She decided against it as she stepped into the bathtub considering after the day he had he would probably be home in bed.

A.N.:  I want to thank the   Primeval Wiki   for their site and helping me with fine details to make this story possible. Even though they did not help me directly, by having a site where anyone could add and scrutinize information, I was able to local details necessary for this story.

Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed this chapter.

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[mzminola]

#dc comics asks #tim drake #lady shiva #ask me stuff #robin #tbf in a VERY different context Shiva using that white line on a mixed race part-Asian Tim would have interesting possibilities #but that's very much not what this was it was just Dixon being cringe and racist again [tags via OP]

Yeah as someone from a mixed & multicultural family who was not paying any attention to the writers, I did not read that line as any kind of confirmation Tim was white or christian, just that Shiva is being an asshole and doing the racism version of negging.

Anyway I'm still going through Tim's comics, but I can think of at least five interactions between them:

1. Paris One: the above-mention Robin miniseries. Shiva is going after Edmund "King Snake" Dorrance for a lethal fight because he's one of the world's best non-meta fighters, and once you hit a certain skill reputation level in DC Shiva just Does That.

2. Tengu: Bruce got real fucked up and needs Shiva to train him. She agrees on the grounds that he kill someone during his final test. He fights in a theater mask, and fakes his opponent's death. Shiva and Tim don't really interact directly here, but they're both present and Tim is SUPER upset when he thinks Bruce broke the no kill rule.

3. Paris Two: Civil War Boogaloo: Tim goes back to Paris to finish his training with the healing and martial arts master he was supposed to the first time, that man is dead so Tim learns from someone else, meets a girl who's learning every possible Single Strike Move she can. Turns out she's in the resistance in small European country, with access to a drug that makes you go super fast so single strike moves are for maximizing that effectiveness.

Shiva shows up to fight (and probably kill) her. Tim had been given the speed drug too, accidentally kills Shiva trying to save the girl, and successfully resuscitates Shiva. She runs off at partial super speed, since some of the drug was on Tim's mouth.

4. Is This Racist Or Is DC Just Awkwardly Adapting Kung Fu Movie Tropes: there's an ancient martial arts organization trying to kill Green Arrow (currently Connor Hawke) because he's got the reputation as one of the best non-meta fighters on the planet. They're all called [Material] Monkey, Shiva's achieved the level of Paper Monkey (highest possible) through defeating so many others.

Shiva beats the shit out of Connor, and Tim leaps in before the killing blow to say "Hey you owe me a life debt! Since I didn't leave you dead that one time! I'm calling it in to save Connor."

Shiva makes it clear that she doesn't consider Life Debts to be a thing, but Tim's attempt amuses her so she pats his cheek with a smile and leaves.

5. Near The End of Robin 1993: I haven't read the full arc, but Shiva is in Gotham to fight Tim. I guess he's finally gotten past the 'potential' stage and into 'fight'? He tracks down her hotel, poisons her complimentary chocolates with a paralytic that only kicks in once your heartrate raises above a certain level. Their fight starts, he might get beat up a bit, and then Shiva falls the fuck down.

Tim informs her the cops are on the way, and that if she breaks out of jail, he'd prefer she not go after him again, thanks.

Note: Everything between Shiva & Cass in Preboot Era happens between these 4 and 5. And since I haven't finished my read, I don't know if Tim & Shiva have interaction in between there, or if she shows up again after the poisoned chocolates incident.

~

Lady Shiva shows up in a fair number of DC titles as a chaos element. I feel like I need to read more appearances outside the Bats to get a bead on how she feels about individual people, but I get the impression that she has similar motivations as a particular type of stock immortal character (despite not being one) -- that life gets boring when there's no risk of anyone killing you.

Sandra "Lady Shiva" Wu-San will fight any non-meta that she suspects has a decent chance at killing her. Sometimes she kills them, sometimes she lets them live. According to some meta I've read, she tends to find people who are stuck somehow and drastically change something in their lives so that they have to change too.

For Cass, that's killing and reviving her so she's free of her death wish.

With Tim, I get the impression that she met him early enough that he's not stuck in anything (though prodding about the no-kill rule might be an attempt to prevent him getting stuck). She sees potential, they're going after the same guy, and teaching is interesting. So why not?

Tim is a chance for her to watch how someone grows as a fighter instead of only meeting them once they're highly skilled. Teaching him is also a way for her to make more waves in the world, and give him a better chance at surviving his vigilante career; wouldn't it be so terribly boring if he died too soon?

So how many times did Tim meet Lady Shiva or interacted with her? What was their relationship like?

To be honest, I'm not entirely sure, I'm not as well versed in that particular relationship (and I'm in the middle of unpacking from my move so I'm not currently in a position to research it.) I know they run into each other at least twice because Shiva turns up at some point during the Robin ongoing but I don't know if it's just the one encounter or if there's more.

I'm most familiar with the relationship they form during the first Robin miniseries, which I've read a couple of times. Tim was sent to Paris to train with someone else, he fell into Shiva's orbit because of the King Snake investigation, and she simply... took an interest in him. Seems intrigued by his potential.

The short version, at least by my read, is that Tim respects Shiva because of her skill and worldliness, but is also wary and low-key terrified of her because she's a cold-blooded killer who keeps calling him 'little bird' and implying that she's either going to turn him into a murderer, kill him in battle, or both. Shiva, meanwhile, seems intrigued by Tim's potential and actively tries shape him into "her weapon" but it's not really clear what she means by that -- maybe she wants an appreciatice or a partner, or maybe she hopes he'd be the one to kill her in the fight she's been craving when he's an adult, it's kind of left up to interpretation. The last one would explain why she kinda drops this thread after Cass is properly introduced.

Mind, the mini is from 1991 so there is also some uncomfortable elements to it... like implying that Shiva is literally trying to seduce the underaged boy and also having her describe his vow against killing as, "How very Christian of you. How very white of you." which is just... yuck. Chuck Dixon everybody, still a racist.