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seoloquent · 3 years

Text

project: dance, dance, revolution

summary - you hate that ai robots are beginning to take over the entertainment industry, but you have no choice than to help them. but what if it all didn't turn out to be what you thought it was?

pairing - johnny and fem!reader

genre - strangers-to-lovers!au, robot!au, comedy, fluff

word count - 10.101

warnings - cw! food, there might be some grammatical errors... i'm depending on grammarly on this one

author's note - this is for @pastelsicheng's ai project #14320 collab! this was honestly such a challenge for me since i have been in a writing slump for over two years i believe, but i'm glad it gave me the push i need. i am still super rusty, but i think the dialogue is cute, so i'm happy with it! thank you so much emmy for sharing your great idea with everyone, and i hope you all like it!

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Johnny AI AU - seoloquent

Kun was terrified.

Despite experiencing your various emotions throughout the five years of being your manager, he has never seen you this angry before. But, honestly speaking, he couldn’t blame you. He’d be just as mad if he found out his boss went behind his back and signed a contract with a company he hated. As much as he could sympathize with you though, Kun just couldn’t get himself to understand why you were so upset about working with LSM Incorporated. If he were in your shoes, he’d be doing backflips off the wall! The amount of exposure, and revenue you are potentially going to be receiving… Kun just does not understand what the problem is.

Although your strides were long and strong, Kun was able to keep up with you while making sure he kept his distance, as if a dark cloud followed behind you. As cautious as he was to not have you blow up at him, he still tried to convince you to not make a scene within the conference room by his desperate protests; in which you kindly ignored. Every single word that left his mouth went through one ear and straight out the other as you paid him no mind. You were in a tunnel vision; the only person you wanted to talk to right now was your boss.

Pushing the door open with much force (that Kun had to catch before it slammed onto the wall behind it), you caught the attention of the CEO of your company, as well as Lee Soo Man of LSM Inc. They flashed pleasant smiles your way, completely oblivious of your angry state.

“Y/N, just the person we wanted to se-”

“Are you serious?!” You slammed the contract papers down on the table, your eyes wide and fierce as they stared into your boss’s eyes.

Your emotions were still fresh from when you first received the signed contract papers from Kun about an hour prior. The feelings of betrayal and violation lingered within you, and the uneasiness it caused made you sick. How could someone lack so much human decency that they justified going behind their employee’s back, an employee that has their trust in them at that, and force them into labor; which they have already voiced that they did not want to do? It baffled you, and you were hurt, as you believed that you and your CEO had a great business relationship. But he took that open communication for granted and took advantage of you.

After realizing that you stormed in with anger rather than excitement, he pursed his lips and looked down at the papers, chuckling to himself. “Oh. So you’re still opposed to the idea.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. “Of course I am!” Your voice rose as your eyes grew bigger. “You never talked to me about it again after the first time; what made you think that I changed my mind?”

“Y/N, I have to get you to notice that you are not the only one signed to this company. This will not only be good exposure for you, but for us as well.” He justified. He kept his voice calm, not only to calm you down but also to keep a professional demeanor in front of his newly established business partner.

“Oh, so you’re doing this for yourself?”

“Of course not! This is for the benefit of not only you, not only me, but for the company as a whole.” Your CEO reasoned. Before you could respond, he cleared his throat and turned to Lee Soo Man. “I’m sorry, but will you excuse us for a moment? I don’t feel comfortable having this conversation in front of you as our partner.”

Normally, you would be embarrassed that you presented this side of yourself in front of a potential partner, but embarrassed in front of Lee Soo Man? You care more about a monkey’s opinion about yourself more than his opinion. Besides, it doesn’t seem like he’s phased by your reaction at all. Strangely enough, when you turned toward the founder of LSM Inc., you realized that his arrogant smile had never left his face since the moment you stormed into the conference room. It gave you chills. He seems so artificial that you wouldn’t be surprised if he turned out to be a robot himself.

After Lee Soo Man gave his, “No problem,” your boss stood up from his seat and escorted you both outside the conference room. The moment the door closed, your boss’s true emotion started to show. His eyes grew wide and his fingers grabbed onto his freshly trimmed strands as he breathed out a heavy breath of frustration. Equally as frustrated, if not more, you crossed your arms and made sure your gaze was unwavering; something you needed to learn after being manipulated many times from past experiences with people who work within the entertainment industry. You stepped your metaphoric foot down. Even if your boss had signed a contract without your acknowledgment, you were not going to do the job. That’s not your signature on the papers.

“Are you crazy Y/N?!” He yelled in a hushed tone, careful to not have anyone overhear your conversation. “How could you act like that in front of him?”

“Do I not have a right to be angry? You sold me away to a robot company Jack, a robot company!” You slapped the back of your hand on your other palm, now physically unable to withhold your emotions.

“I didn’t sell you away, you’re getting paid to do this job.” He spat. Now self-aware of how uncivil and unprofessional he was being, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to ease his nerves. You are going to get nowhere if you bickered like this, and if you keep it up, he knows he is going to say something he regrets.

Now keeping his tone soft, he revealed, “I chose you because you’re the best for this job.”

“Aren’t there other artists under this label who could do this? I’m sure they’re more willing to work with LSM than I am.” You matched his tone, hoping that this time you could get through to him.

“Those other artists can’t produce the same product as you can.” Jack shook his head disapprovingly. “Listen Y/N, I don’t want to waste any more of Mr. Lee’s time, so I’m going to make this short. I apologize in advance if you find any offense in this, but business is business.” You stared intently into his eyes, in hopes to understand where he was going with his next sentence, but his expression could not be read.

“If you can’t do this job, then I’m afraid that I’ll have to drop you from this label.”

You never knew what people meant by having their hearts drop down to their stomachs until now. You felt as if the wind was knocked out of you, your breath short and shaky and your knees weak. All these years… all this work you put in to make a name not only for yourself but for this company… it baffled you that all that effort could be thrown away so easily, just because of some AI company.

As much as you wanted to keep standing up for yourself and your role in the company, you knew there was no use. Your boss didn’t seem to give you a choice either, seeing that he walked back into the conference room shortly after his bombshell. The only thing you could find yourself doing is laughing bitterly to yourself while shaking your head. What in the world are you going to do now?

***

Maybe it isn’t such a good idea to go to a bar when you’re in a bad mood. The constant noise of chatter and the clinking of glasses did not soothe your nerves one bit. Rather, it made you even more annoyed, and on the brink of yelling out at everyone to just be quiet. Instead of making a fool of yourself in public though, you sat with your head under your arms, forehead resting on the cool surface of the bar. Kun, your designated moral support, sat next to you, tapping his glass of whiskey as he thought of what to say to you.

“So, what are you gonna do?”

That simple yet oh so effective sentence had you throwing your head back and releasing a loud groan. Your reaction had your manager shrugging, his face reading, ‘What did I do?’ You rested your cheeks on the palms of your hands as you thought: ‘What can I do?’

Gazing off into a space of nothing, you replied: “I dunno.” You shook your head, your hands still on either side of your face as you deadpanned. “I have no idea what I’m gonna do.” After a moment, something clicked in your head, and you set your arms down and turned to Kun. “Do you want to bail on them and start a company with me?”

He snorted at the inquiry. “You know we can’t do that! At least not right now. It’s way too last minute.”

You looked down at your arms with a sad expression and sighed. “You’re right.” Not only would it be an impulsive decision, but you had no motivation in you to own a whole entertainment company. “What am I gonna do?!” You cried out, your hands covering your face to hide your shame.

“Hey, hey, hey! Stop the whining!” Kun took your hands away from your face, revealing the pout on your face. “Everything is going to be fine! I’m sure of it.”

Kun, a big pep-talk kind of man, was always ready to reassure you when you were in doubt. And boy was he good at it. You still remember when you were growing anxious before your first big concert at an arena. The staff ran around the whole place frantically trying to find where you ran off to. Thankfully, your trustee manager was able to find your hiding spot, which was beside a vending machine in an empty hallway. His comforting words found a way to ease your speedy heart rate, and clear up your clogged mind. After that day, you knew you could always go to him when you were feeling down or unsure of yourself. He’s a friend you could always lean on.

“How are you so sure?” You asked, your voice so small that he almost missed the question.

“Think about it,” he set his glass to the side and folded his hands together, “this contract is only valid for six months. It’s not like you’re going to be working there forever.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I know that; but still! I don’t want to do it at all!”

“You never know what will happen until you try though! You might end up liking it.” He nudged your elbow as he flashed a convincing smile.

“Me? Liking it?” You scoffed. “Kun, do you even know me?”

He pursed his lips and sighed. This situation was foreign to him since he always knew what to say. But now, it seemed like everything he was saying was making the situation worse. He wanted nothing more than for you to feel comfortable, but that mission is basically impossible knowing how much you oppose the AI industry. But still, Kun is a persistent man. He wasn’t going to back down just yet.

Finally, something clicked.

“Actually, your idea doesn’t sound half bad.” You cocked a curious eyebrow, surprised that he brought up something you spurted out carelessly. “Think about it: you’re still your own person. Even though you’re technically bound by a contract doesn’t mean that you can’t make a decision on your own. He did give you the choice to leave.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “So you’re saying that I should just leave the company?”

He shook his head. “No. What I’m doing is offering a deal. I want you to try to work with LSM for at least three months. If you try it, you might like it! If not, I will quit with you, and we can try to start a company on our own; which I know we both don’t want. But hey, that might be fun too.”

You thought about the proposal for a moment. It wasn’t too much of a bad idea. It was actually quite reasonable. Yeah, you aren’t looking forward to being surrounded by robots and their arrogant creators, but you guess that it’s worth a try. Just for the experience at least.

“I think we have a deal.” You held your hand out.

He took your hand in his and gave it a firm shake.

“Pleasure doing business with you, partner.”

***

You shivered upon entering the entertainment wing of LSM Inc. You were told that the lab would be a bit chilly, which is why you brought a jacket with you, but the cool air still found a way to nip at your skin through the material. You have to say, the lab was not what you expected it to be. Rather than it being some cold, plain science lab, it was made out to be much more casual. Your eyes settled on what looked like a lounge area for the employees, and you watched carefully as they conversed with one another with soft smiles on their faces. Scanning the place even further, you came across capsule areas, in which you assume where the AI robots stayed. As cool as the dome building seemed, you still couldn’t shake off the grudge you had against the company.

“Oh, you’re here!” A man holding a clipboard exclaimed. He ran over to you and Kun, flashing a bright smile. “Mr. Lee told me that we were to be expecting you both. I was hoping to greet you at the main lobby entrance, but I got caught up in another situation, so I apologize. My name is Kim Doyoung, I’ll be your guide for the day.” He politely held his hand out, and you shook it while replying with a small, “Hello.”

“We’re pleased to have you here with us Ms. Y/N. Please, follow me.” He motioned both of you to follow him. “I must say, I’m a huge fan of your music. I’m really happy that you decided to work with us for the next comeback.”

“Oh. Don’t mention it.” You shook your head while smiling slightly.

As Doyoung lead you to wherever he was leading you, he pointed out different areas to help you grow familiar with the lab. You learned that they have many recording and dance studios like regular companies do. You couldn’t help but wonder why, since they could just be programmed to sing the songs, but you didn’t bother to ask.

Finally, Doyoung stopped at a station, but his bright expression was replaced by a puzzled one. He looked around as if he were looking for someone. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but stare at what stood before you. The tall human-like… thing, stared right back at you with a neutral expression. It gave you chills how real he seemed; like he could walk past you on the street and you wouldn’t bat an eye. Despite how anxious it made you feel, your curiosity outweighed that emotion, and you inched closer to get a better look.

Your tour guide caught you eyeing the bot, and that smile found its way back onto his face. He heard that you might be a bit opposed to working with the AI’s, so he was glad to find you expressing some sort of interest in their prized possession.

“He’s so human-” As if in a trance, you reached out a hand to touch the robot, but it suddenly stepped back just before you got to it.

“I’m sorry, but physical touch is not allowed unless permitted.” The robot announced before flashing a commercial smile.

Doyoung’s chuckled beside you. “For the safety of our bots, we have prohibited anyone from touching them.” He leaned in to add, “Too many fans at fansigns got touchy-feely.” He shook his head disapprovingly.

“Eager to get a feel of my bot already?” You heard a voice from behind you.

When you turned around, you felt as though you got whiplash. The man standing behind you looked identical to the robot standing before you. The only difference was that the robot had blonde short hair and was styled in fancy clothing whilst the man had long brown hair and didn’t seem to care much about what he had on. He had his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, a sly smirk plastered on his face.

“You’re late.” Doyoung deadpanned.

“I’m not late, I was taking a nap in the Pod, and nobody cared enough to wake me up!” The mystery man shrugged.

Finally, you snapped back into reality, but you still had to verify that what you were seeing was real. When you finally accepted what was going on, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“How cute.” You snickered to yourself.

A puzzled expression masked the mystery man’s face. “What’s cute?”

“What is this? The Man and the Muppet?” Your comment had Kun nudging your arm and shooting you a warning look to which you responded with an apologetic gaze.

Not giving the mystery man any time to respond (merely because he does not have the patience), Doyoung spoke up. “This is Suh Youngho, he’s the head AI Developer of our department. He’s the creator of #S127.” Youngho put his hands behind his back and bowed as his greeting.

“I’m guessing his name is Youngho as well?” You pointed to the robot, still standing expressionless.

“He wishes, but no, we call him Johnny!” Youngho swung an arm over his identical twin of a robot, smiling brightly. “After a long and hard fight for it, he will be releasing his first solo album this year.” He wiped a fake tear from under his eye. “Johnny here is my firstborn, so this is going to be really special.”

“And you’re going to help us make it very special!” Doyoung cheered.

“Actually, speaking of that, what exactly am I supposed to be doing? Wouldn’t it just be easier for me to give you guys a demo and you program him to sing it or something?” You asked.

Doyoung was quick to answer. “That would defeat the purpose of AI robots actually! The thing is, they’re supposed to learn to adapt to certain environments, like we do! So they learn how to sing songs and how to dance complex choreography just like we do.”

This time, Kun was the one to ask a question. “Aren’t you guys just putting more work upon yourself?”

“Yes, and no,” Youngho started, “It’s like a domino effect. The more work we give our bots means more research that needs to be done. The more research that is done, means there’s more data we get. The more data we get means a more refined bot, and then it loops.” Kun opened his mouth in an ‘ah’ shape and nodded his head after the explanation. “Hopefully we can get this bad boy to the point where we don’t have to do any more research and he can be a successful artist on his own.”

Even though this was all very interesting, you still couldn’t help but still be opposed to the thought of helping a robot making it in the entertainment industry. You caught a glimpse of the future as you fell into a daydream: AI’s getting a full sweep in wins at big music award shows, discrediting those who actually put their heart and soul into their work. Robots don’t have a heart, nor do they have a soul. Even if they do seem to “work hard,” they will never be on the same level as a human artist. It just won’t be fair, but what even is fair these days?

“So, to answer your question, we need Johnny to learn what it’s like to be a true singer-slash-songwriter. And to achieve that, he’ll be staying with you for the duration of the six months before his solo debut.” Doyoung’s words snapped you out of your daydream and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

“Oh, so this is going to be like ‘Take your robot to work day’ or something? But just for six months instead?” You questioned.

Doyoung looked up as he thought, nodding and shrugging seconds afterward. “Well, yes, but we were hoping that Johnny could get the full package. We planned for him to stay with you 24/7 so that he could really get a feel of your creative process.”

You did a double-take, eyes wide and mouth agape showcasing your shock.

“E-Excuse me? You mean to say that he will be… living with me?” You spoke low and slow, scared of the obvious answer.

You didn’t see anything about this in the contract papers; not that you read it anyway since you weren’t the one who signed them; but still! You could feel your heart race as you thought of him living in your apartment, those brown soulless eyes studying every move you made. The vision made you shudder.

“Affirmative.” Youngho nodded firmly.

Your heart wanted to burst out of your chest. “I’m sorry, but can you guys excuse us for a moment? I need to speak with my manager in private.” You said just before taking Kun’s hand and dragging him somewhere where the two scientists wouldn’t be able to hear your conversation.

“I’m living with the robot?!” You whisper yelled, careful to not have anyone nearby hear your anguish.

“In my defense, I had no idea about this.” Kun shook his head with his hands up.

You paced back and forth as you panicked. You lifted your hands, but not knowing what to do with them, you just clenched them into a fist. It seemed like your life was spiraling out of your control. Nothing is going your way, and it is driving you insane. You need to get your life back in order fast. If not, who knows what will happen?

“I swear, if he wasn’t the one paying me, I would kill Jack right now.” You grumbled.

“Hey, it’s not like Johnny is a real guy. I doubt he would try to do anything to hurt you.” Kun tried his best to reassure you, but it was not doing much to help.

“You don’t know that! We don’t know what those guys are capable of!” You pointed toward Doyoung and Youngho. “That Doyoung guy is nice, but I don’t know if I can trust him. And Youngho seems like he’s gonna be a handful.” You stared at the said man as he and Doyoung bickered, probably about him being late again.

Kun turned his head to see the two men bickering, and the only thing he could do was chuckle. “I think they should be the least of your worries.” His comment made you sigh deeply. “You’ll be fine, I promise you!” He put his hands on your arms to steady you, but you avoided his gaze as you stared down at your feet with a pout on your face. “You know I’m always on speed dial if you need me.”

You nodded your head, still avoiding his gaze.

“Hey,” his call made your eyes meet his. “If all goes wrong, we can always dump a bucket of water over ‘em.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the comment. “Yeah, and then we’ll get sued and possibly go to jail.”

Kun smacked his lips and said, “Eh, I’m sure they’ll be able to fix the guy. A little water can’t do that much damage.” He stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets. After a small moment of silence, he kicked your shoe gently. “So what do you say? You’re still gonna do it, or no?”

A groan erupted from your chest, and you brought your hands down your face out of frustration. You really don’t want to do this, but a deal is a deal.

“Three months. I’m giving three months.”

“That’s my girl!”

***

You found yourself pacing around your apartment in the early morning. It has been about a week since you first spoke with LSM Inc. From this day forward for the next six months (or three months you hoped), Johnny would be shadowing you at all times. You were a nervous wreck since you didn’t know what to expect from living with a robot. What if he suddenly malfunctioned and they blamed it on you? You can’t handle this type of responsibility. Or what if he malfunctioned and started acting violently toward you?

“Snap out of it!” You whisper yelled at yourself, hitting your temple with your knuckles. You always tend to scare yourself when you’re nervous. Everyone you have spoken to about this matter has told you that you had nothing to worry about, so you made it your goal to not worry. But why is it so hard?

DING!

You swore your heart jumped out of your chest when your doorbell suddenly sounded throughout your home. As much as you wanted your heart rate to calm down, it only began to race faster the closer you got to your door. When your hand touched the gold knob, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, then you finally opened the door.

Two identical men stood before you, flashing the same bright smile.

“Good morning to you!” Youngho greeted you cheerfully, to which you replied with a dazed “Morning,” before allowing them inside.

You eyed the two men as they entered your living room, confused as to why they were the only ones here. “Where is Mr. Kim?”

Youngho cocked an eyebrow before turning around to face you. “Who?”

“Your coworker. Doyoung, I believe his name is?” You answered.

“Oh!” He let out a hearty laugh. “You don’t have to call him that, it makes him sound old. And I’m older than him, so that kind of hurts my feelings.” He joked, but the only thing you could find yourself doing was nodding your head and looking away.

Sensing your discomfort, he cleared his throat before answering your question. “He’s busy back at the lab. I’m here to make sure John is all set before I leave him in your care.” You winced at his words. It only added to the overwhelming weight on your shoulders.

“Why do you ask? Did you grow fond of him already?” He slung his backpack from around his shoulder onto the floor. You peeked inside when he zipped it open, finding wires bunched inside.

“Uh, no, I wouldn’t say that.” You let out a nervous laugh. “I just find it a bit overwhelming with only you two here.”

A smirk grew on his face. “So, you’re overwhelmed by my great looks huh?” He flipped his hair and shrugged as if it was inevitable to be starstruck by him.

“I look exactly like you,” Johnny spoke for the first time since entering your home.

You had to hold back a laugh at the sudden comment, and Youngho’s reaction didn’t make it any easier.

“So? You’re inspired by me, so therefore I take the credit of our looks!” He stuck his nose up in Johnny’s face. When the scientist turned back toward you, he realized you were holding back a laugh as your pursed your lips and looked away. “What? You find this funny?”

You put your hand up and shook your head. “No, no.”

Youngho was happy to find you in a better mood than when you first met. Sure, you’re still on the shy side, but at least you’re laughing instead of frowning like the first time. He heard that you weren’t exactly on board with working with LSM, so he made it his goal to have this be an enjoyable experience for you. He hopes that one day your negative opinions about AI’s would change. They’re as special to him as music is to you.

“I need to set up Johnny’s things. Is it okay if you tell me where he’s allowed to sleep?” Youngho asked.

You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled expression finding its way on your face. “He sleeps?”

“Yeah!” Youngho nodded simply. “It’s like setting your computer on sleep mode. Machines need rest as much as we do. Johnny here is a hardworking man, he deserves to sleep.”

You supposed he was right. He might break easier if his gears were running constantly. Plus, he was made to function as a human, but you didn’t know that it was to this extent. To say the least, you were impressed at the attention to detail.

You motioned the two to your guest bedroom, and immediately Youngho got to work. Johnny stood next to you as the both of you spectated Youngho’s work, but you were shortly distracted by the robot.

You peered up at the tall machine with a curious gaze, and he turned to you with a kind smile.

“So, I’m not sure if this is an inappropriate question or not, but I’m curious.” Johnny nodded for you to go on. “Should I, like… talk to you like Siri? Or can I talk to you like a normal person?”

You were startled to hear Youngho’s loud snort in the corner of the room, but instead of him being the one to answer, Johnny did.

“You can talk to me like a normal person, don’t worry.” Johnny shook his head. “If it makes you comfortable, you can view me as a human if you’d like. I’m not that much different than you actually. We’re just wired differently.”

“Hey,” Youngho’s stern voice caught both of your attention. “Be proud of who you are, whether you are a human or robot. We’ve been through this John.”

Johnny nodded. “Right, right. My apologies.”

Youngho hated it when Johnny tried to tell others to view him as a human. Not because he believed that Johnny was trying to fool people, but because being a robot is his identity, and he should be proud of that. Sure, it’s not likely that Johnny could feel the feeling of pride, but Youngho could tell that Johnny was insecure. It worried him, but he didn’t want to tap into his database to change anything since he wants Johnny to be as authentic as possible. So for now, Youngho is keeping track of Johnny’s growth as an AI person.

Soon, Youngho was finished with setting up Johnny’s station. In the corner of the guestroom stood a white podium with a screen built in the middle of it. He let out a deep breath of satisfaction as he stepped back and dusted his hands off.

Before you could ask what it was, Youngho was already answering your unspoken question. “This is Johnny’s Communication Center. Every night he’ll have to transfer data from his system so that we’ll know what he’s been up to and see if he’s made any improvements. That’s if he’s not with me at the lab.” Suddenly, his face grew serious. “For legal reasons, I have to let you know that this station is strictly off-limits. There’s confidential information in here that belongs to LSM Inc.”

Even though you were curious, the last thing you wanted to do was get involved with the law, so you took note of his warning. Hopefully, it isn’t something regarding the invasion of privacy.

You shook your head before you could scare yourself even further. Positive thoughts. Think positive thoughts.

“Alright, on that note, I think my work here is done!” Youngho announced. “Can I talk with you in private?” He asked suddenly, pointing a finger at you.

“Me?” You had to double-check whether he was really talking to you or not. He chuckled as he nodded his head, confirming your wonders. “Oh, okay.”

You followed the man out of the room, leaving Johnny to check out the place he’ll be living in for the next few months.

After the two of you reached your living room, Youngho began to speak. “Hey, so, I really want to thank you for working with us on this project. I heard that you’re not the biggest fan of AI’s, so I was surprised to hear you signed the contract.”

You held back from rolling your eyes as the memories of your boss came up. “It’s not like I really had a choice.” You smiled softly and shook your head.

He tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

You tensed up when you realized what you just said. As much as you did not want to do this job, you made it your goal to remain as professional as possible for the sake of your reputation. After working in the entertainment industry for some years, you learned to keep your personal feelings apart from your job. If- no, when you do end up quitting the job after three months, at least LSM won’t be able to say anything negative about you.

Refraining from explaining yourself, you shook your head once more. “Nevermind what I said. Johnny will be safe in my care!”

Youngho pouted, his eyes scanning your face. He wanted you to elaborate, but he had no time to talk further. He needed to get back to the lab.

“Well, I hope so. Call me if you need anything. I need to get going.”

Nodding, you waved goodbye to him before seeing him off. Your feet ended up taking you back to your guest bedroom, where you found Johnny sitting at the end of the bed, staring at the wall in front of him. You caught his attention after you cleared your throat, and instead of staring at you with that lifeless gaze, he smiled brightly.

You mustered up the courage to walk up to him, still stopping some feet away though. Crossing your arms, you tried to think of what to say. While you thought, he examined your face, trying his best to read your expression so he to could come up with something to talk about. The silence was awkward for you, but Johnny never sensed the discomfort. He was happy to be here with you. You are the gold coin on his road to success, so he decided to cherish you.

“So… it’s quite early and I usually don’t head to the studio until the evening. Is there anything you wanted to do?” You asked.

“There isn’t anything I can think of…” he shrugged his shoulders.

Suddenly, your stomach grumbled and your hand covered it as a reflex. You were so nervous this morning that you didn’t have much of an appetite, but hunger was catching up to you now.

“I didn’t have breakfast yet.” You laughed nervously. “Are you… able to eat anything?” You felt weird asking such a question since he’s a robot after all, but who knows what he can and cannot do? Technology is so advanced these days. Besides, isn’t he made to live like a human anyway?

In all truthfulness though, Johnny isn’t allowed to eat-- sometimes. In special cases, he can nibble on a snack, but eating a full course meal was a no-go. But Johnny was aware of your discomfort of being with him, and he was determined to make you feel the opposite. As long as he doesn’t clog his gears, taking the risk should be okay.

“I know of this breakfast house Youngho likes to go to every now and then. Do you want to go there?”

Your face lit up at the suggestion. You were more excited at the thought of being around others rather than eating. Being in the house alone with Johnny was really starting to suffocate you, and you needed out immediately. Maybe some fresh air and being surrounded by humans will make you feel somewhat better.

The two of you were quick to leave the apartment after you accepted the offer. Johnny led the way to the restaurant, and on your way, he let you know that it was not far from your home. Come to find out, it was within walking distance. You wondered how you never noticed the humble breakfast house, but after thinking about it for a while, you realized that you are always on the go. Ever since you moved to your apartment, you never took the time to stop and get to know your surroundings.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny’s question snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? Oh… nothing, just thinking.” Finally, you noticed that you were standing in front of the restaurant. “Let’s head inside.”

Surprisingly, Johnny was easy to talk to. Even though he had somewhat awkward responses to your questions, it was never boring or dry. You got to know about his life in the lab, and even how Youngho decided to grow his hair out because people mistook him for Johnny so many times. His story was so interesting, and it kept you on your toes, itching to hear more. It was beyond what you could ever imagine.

“So what is your goal?” You suddenly asked.

He tilted his head in curiosity. “Can you elaborate for me please?”

“You know, like what’s your goal as a singer? Or even just as a living being?”

He sat back in his seat as he pondered on the simple, yet deep question. It’s something he’s never had time to think about. Actually, it’s something he never considered thinking about. Ever since he was first powered up, he has always been working. But working towards what, is the question he began to ask himself.

“I… honestly don’t know.” He shook his head after moments of thinking.

“Really?” Your eyes grew wide at his response. “If that’s the case, then why do you expect to learn how to write music? You need to have some desire or passion to do so.”

He crossed his arm over his chest and rested his chin on his other hand. “I guess you’re right… But how do I find out what my goal is?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “What are you living for? What’s your purpose? You have to ask yourself these types of questions.”

It worried Johnny that he didn’t have a passion despite calling himself a music artist. But he knew he needed to figure it out fast because he really does want to be successful in this field. But is there anything really to work for being the person he is?

***

The next day, you were back at the lab for Johnny’s first checkup. The first night at the studio was not a success, which wasn’t surprising considering that he had nothing to write about. This was exactly what you were afraid of. No matter how busy he might be, he hasn’t gotten the real human experience, so what really can he write about? Hard drives and wires?

“Hey Babysitter!” Youngho greeted you cheerfully after spotting you and Johnny some feet away.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Babysitter?”

“Yeah, you are taking care of my kid after all.” He laughed, ruffling Johnny’s hair, to which Johnny slapped his hand away. “How was the first day?”

You sighed deeply, thinking about yesterday’s events. “It went okay, but we made no progress in the studio.”

Youngho smacked his lips. “Well, that’s alright. We still have six months ahead of us. There’s still time left.”

“That’s true.” You nodded your head. “But on the bright side, Johnny treated me to the best breakfast I had in a while! So brownie points for that.”

Your words came out too fast for Johnny to stop you. He froze, his hand slapping his mouth in shock. He is dead meat.

“He didn’t eat with you, did he?” Youngho blinked at you. Sensing the tension in the air, you nodded slowly, but kept your mouth shut. “Oh my-” Youngho stepped back as if he was about to faint.

He clenched his fist against his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. You felt like you did something wrong, but you just couldn’t figure out what. You were sure Johnny would tell you if you did.

“Johnny, just head to the back, okay?” Youngho said, his eyes still closed.

“Yes sir.” Johnny rushed away without another word.

“Did I do something wrong...?” You asked shyly.

“No you didn’t, don’t worry.” Youngho sighed. “He knows better. If he eats too much he could clog his gears. But mostly, I just hate cleaning him out, it’s so tedious!” He groaned at the thought of all the clumps of food he has to take out.

“Oh my gosh! I wouldn’t have let him if I have known!” You exclaimed.

Youngho shook his head. “It’s okay, you didn’t know. He seems to be functioning well, so he should be fine.”

You were worried at the thought of Johnny breaking while under your supervision. Imagine getting sued by a company that handles AI’s? Your life would be over! You can’t let that happen, you won’t allow it to happen.

“Is there any way for me to know if he’s okay or not? Like does he feel pain or no?” You asked. You needed to know just in case you had to rush back to the lab if anything happens. You’re not going to be the blame for anything.

“Yes, and no.” Youngho went on to explain. “He can feel you if you tap him on the shoulder, but if you punch him, it’ll still feel like a mere tap. But the only time he does feel pain is when something in his system malfunctions.” You tilted your head, still not catching on. He found your expression cute, and he couldn’t hold back a smile. “Just think about it: when you’re using your phone, it can feel your taps as you scroll. But if you drop it on the ground, you don’t hear it screaming out in pain.”

“Ah, I think I get it now!” You nodded your head fervently.

“Right! But we did program him to feel some type of pain just so we will know if something wrong is happening to the important parts.”

“That makes a lot of sense… Man, you guys really have it all laid out huh?” You couldn’t help but be impressed at the amount of thought that went into creating Johnny.

“Yeah, well, it’s nothing much.” Johnny shoved his hands in his pockets as he shrugged nonchalantly. As laid back as he was acting, nothing could hide the blush that crept onto his face. He’s a sucker for people acknowledging his work.

“Well, as much as I want to argue with you about that, I have to get to my schedule! Kun is waiting for me outside and I can’t keep him waiting. I’ll be back soon!” You waved as you began to walk away.

Youngho waved back to you as he watched you exit the lab. He sighed to himself, not knowing what he was going to do with Johnny. But knowing that it is best to get the job done now rather than later, Youngho dragged his feet to the operation room where Johnny would be waiting.

Johnny tensed up once Youngho entered the room, and he avoided eye contact in hopes he wouldn’t blow up at him. Thankfully, Youngho didn’t have the energy to yell.

“Why did you do that?” The scientist asked simply.

“She was uncomfortable and hungry, so it was the only thing I could think of.” Johnny justified his past actions, but Youngho wasn’t having any of it.

“Let’s just get this over with, and then we’ll check your data.” Youngho sighed as he started to prep for the cleanup.

“Wait, wait! I have a question.” Johnny stopped him. “Do you have a goal?”

Youngho was taken aback by the sudden question. “Yes… I think so? I guess it depends on what the goal is for.” He wasn’t very sure if he had a set goal, but he did know that he is satisfied where he is right at this moment. The only thing he is concerned about is making sure #S127 remains on the rise.

“Do you think… I’m able to have a goal?”

“You can have the goal of winning a Grammy!” Youngho suggested.

Johnny scoffed. “Well, yeah, but I’m talking about for myself. Am I able to find a goal or a passion at least for myself?”

Youngho blinked at his robot. He was at a loss for words. It seems like a simple yes or no question, but there are levels to it. The right answer to this question was up in the air somewhere, and Youngho was finding a hard time finding it. What in the world did you do to his bot?

“I’m sure you can if you put your mind to it,” Youngho answered. He grabbed his phone and began texting you, suggesting that the two of you grab coffee when you get back to the lab. He needed to talk to you to figure out the meaning behind Johnny’s words.

Some hours later, you were at a Starbucks near the lab sitting across from Youngho. You were nervous you did something bad after all, but you couldn’t get yourself to figure out what you’ve done. But thankfully, Johnny was the first to speak.

“So, Johnny asked me a question that kind of shocked me. I’m supposing you asked him the same question yesterday.” He began.

“What question are you talking about?” You asked.

“If he has a goal. He’s been thinking about it really hard.”

You felt as if a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. You thought of something way worse, even though you talked to Johnny a handful of times yesterday, and the conversations the two of you had were never bad or questionable. Your nervousness always found a way to get to you still.

“Well yeah! He needs to have a passion in order to be a real artist. And to have a passion, he needs to have a goal.” You nodded.

“Are you sure he can have a passion? He’s a robot.”

You were surprised at his response. “Aren’t you the one who created him? I thought you would know this! Writing songs isn’t just jotting down words on a piece of paper you know. It’s much more to it than that.”

Youngho sighed. You’re right, and it bothered him. It’s not you that he’s bothered by, but the fact that he really doesn’t have everything figured out. He’s so used to being a genius and having questions answered before people could even ask them, but the fact that he doesn’t have an answer prepared for something as simple as this messed with his head. How did he expect to make a successful idol group if his idols can’t even write music on their own?

“I could always just give you a song to use.” You suggested.

“No, I don’t want that,” Youngho answered quickly. “We do that every comeback. We need to actually make some improvements.”

You took a sip of your coffee as you watched Youngho try to figure out what to do. You knew Johnny writing his own song was too good to be true, but you have to admit, there is a part of you that believes in him. If he can read and understand human emotion, there are chances for him to be able to write a decent song.

“What was your purpose in making Johnny and the other guys in the group?” You asked suddenly.

Youngho frowned at the memories that came up in his mind. “I actually didn’t create Johnny and the others to be idol singers.” You furrowed your eyebrows at the bombshell. “I actually intended for them to be soldiers.”

Your jaw dropped. You would have never thought of #S127 fighting in a war. It’s a complete 180 from what they are doing right now.

“What made you change your mind?!” To say you were shocked would be an understatement.

“I didn’t change my mind.” He laughed. “The government rejected my offer, but they told me about LSM Inc. and now here I am. Lee Soo Man suggested that I use my bots to make an idol group, and I wanted nothing to do with it. But it was either I make a group, or be broke with robots that have no purpose.”

So he was in a similar situation that you’re in right now. It made you feel happy to see that he seems to enjoy his current circumstances, but still, you can’t get yourself to accept that you have to share competition with AIs who can’t even figure out how to write a song on their own. Despite that, you were growing fond of Johnny, and you wanted him to be able to find his passion. He’s the only AI you would allow to win.

“I would have never thought of Johnny being a soldier.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Considering that this is your current circumstance, you need to figure out if they’re able to create their own goals for themselves. I understand the base goal is to win awards at big music shows and hit the charts, but there needs to be a better foundation.”

Youngho couldn’t help but admire you as you gave your advice. Not only are you beautiful, but you’re thoughtful, and the more you spoke, the more it attracted him to you. Where were you when he needed you the most? The company has worked with so many different artists before you, but you’re the only one that is actually helping. He just wanted to take you into his arms and thank you repeatedly at this moment.

From here on out, Youngho was determined to find out what Johnny’s goal is. Whether it is impossible or not, he is going to make sure Johnny becomes the best songwriter there is.

***

The three months had gone by before you knew it, and in all honesty, you didn’t want to quit the job. Johnny and you had grown closer the more you worked together, and you enjoyed seeing his progress as he worked to become a better and more authentic writer. And Youngho and you also hit it off very well, becoming closer friends the more you talked. You also realized that you were catching feelings for the scientist, but you ignored it, believing that it was nothing but a simple crush. ‘It will pass overtime,’ you would tell yourself.

Kun on the other hand did nothing to remind you of the deal that you made with him since he knew you forgot about it. He enjoyed seeing you have fun made him happy, he never liked seeing you in a sour mood. He too has gotten close with Youngho as well after going out drinking with him and Doyoung several times. Just like tonight.

This time, you decided to join the guys tonight for drinks at the bar. Once you found out Kun was hanging out with the two scientists, you felt left out and invited yourself to the next outing. It wasn’t like they minded though since they love your company.

“So, I heard that you don’t really like AI’s Y/N. Can I ask you why that is?” Doyoung asked.

You poked your lip out as you thought. “Well, it’s mainly because nothing they do feels true to me. It’s all programmed. Not only that, but they’re slowly taking over our jobs. I’m not exactly comfortable with that.”

Youngho shook his head. “I get what you’re saying, but that’s not necessarily true. AI’s, at least the ones we make at LSM, is made to function like humans. So everything they do is learned after we establish a little bit of a foundation we put in their program. And there are still significantly more humans who have jobs than AI’s, but I do get your concern.”

What he said had you thinking. You supposed he was right, but you still felt so odd about it. But you figured it’s just something that you’re going to have to learn to accept as time goes on. The only AI you trust is Johnny, and that’s all that matters to you right now.

“You might be right, but it’s going to take me some time to get used to them. I like Johnny at least.” You shrugged.

“And that’s all I need to hear.” Youngho smiled widely.

You giggled at his antics. “Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom really quickly. I’ll be back. Don’t buy any more drinks without me!”

“No promises!” Kun called after you, laughing afterward.

Youngho tapped his glass, trying to decide whether the question he has is worth asking or not. But he needed to muster up the courage since it’s an important question. For him at least.

“Hey, Kun, I have a question.” Youngho started.

“Hit me.” Kun nodded.

“Do you… like Y/N?”

Kun threw his head back in laughter. “What?! Where did that come from?”

Youngho could only scratch the back of his neck and let out a small laugh. He was embarrassed, but it’s something he has been wondering about forever now.

“He’s been waiting to ask that question for ages!” Doyoung exclaimed. “He wouldn’t stop bugging me about it.”

“Well, to answer your question, no I don’t. She’s like a sister to me.” Kun shook his head simply. “You should ask her out on a date. I’m sure she’d like that.”

Youngho shook his head fervently. “I don’t know if I can do that. Not right now at least.”

“You never know until you do it.” Doyoung sing-songed. Kun couldn’t help but laugh.

“Shut up, she’s coming back!” Youngho whisper yelled.

For the rest of the night, Youngho thought about you as the four of you enjoyed more drinks. He knew he had feelings for you, but he wasn’t sure if you felt the same as he did. For now, he just wanted to take more time to read your actions before he let you know of his feelings. He needs time to muster up the courage.

The four of you decided to end the night after realizing how tipsy you have gotten. Kun realized that you had a packed schedule the next day, so they needed to get you home immediately. He already knew you were going to regret it later on.

Kun had made sure you got up to your apartment safely. You stopped him at the door, saying that you could get in the house yourself, and just go home. He at least opened the door for you before leaving, hoping that you’ll get to bed right away rather than finding things to do around the house.

When you entered your home, you began to drag your feet toward your room, that was until Johnny stopped you in the hallway.

He leaned forward and sniffed. “Were you drinking?”

You giggled. “Yeah, I was.”

“You might want to get to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.” Johnny pouted at your condition. Looking at how you were, you for sure were going to experience a hand hangover in the morning.

“Yeah, yeah, I will.” You waved him off. You stepped forward to start going to your room, but you paused and stepped back. You looked up at Johnny and sucked in a sharp breath as you thought. “You look a lot like Youngho.”

Johnny blinked, confused at the sudden revelation. “I am aware of that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you just saying that because you are Youngho? Are you trying to fool me?” You poked your finger into his chest.

“No…” Johnny wasn’t sure how to respond to your absurd words. He’s never been in this situation before.

“Well, Youngho, goodnight. I will see you tomorrow.” You smiled at him. Rather than leaving, you stood there, staring up at who you believed to be Youngho through your heavy eyelids. Suddenly you got on your toes and pecked his lips softly. “Rest well Youngho.”

Johnny stood in shock after you left to your room. What was he going to tell Youngho? He has never allowed this to happen before. The kiss was so unexpected that he couldn’t dodge it! He hoped he wouldn't get in trouble.

The next day, Johnny was at the lab for the daily check-in.

“How was the night at the Babysitter’s?” Youngho asked as he plugged Johnny’s chip into his computer to retrieve yesterday’s data.

“She kissed me.” Johnny found himself blurting.

“She what?!” Youngho squeaked.

“She kissed me.” He repeated.

Youngho couldn’t believe his ears. He shook his head, slapping his hand on his forehead. “Huh?!”

“She kissed me—“

“I heard you the first two times!” Youngho yelled.

Youngho suddenly turned around to his computer and rushed to retrieve any video data if there were any. And there was. The camera hidden behind Johnny’s eyes wasn’t always on, but they only started recording if Johnny felt that he needed to. Youngho played the video, nervous about what he’s about to see. But all that worry washed away after seeing your drunken smile. Seeing you kiss his robot amused him more than he thought, as he couldn’t help but snort and laugh hysterically at what he just watched. It was something he never thought he would see or even hear about.

“She thought I was you,” Johnny revealed, which shut Youngho’s laughter up.

“W-Wait, really?” He was shocked.

“Yeah. She kept calling me Youngho.” Johnny nodded. “I think she likes you.”

A blush crept up Youngho’s neck, and he couldn’t hold back the grin on his face. Knowing that you had the same feelings he currently has sent him over the moon. He just wished you kissed him rather than his lookalike.

Youngho waited until the evening to talk to you so that you were free from all your schedules. The two of you spoke at the convenience store near your apartment, enjoying a canned beverage.

“So… Johnny found out what his goal is,” Youngho revealed.

You gasped, clapping your hand over your mouth. “For real? What is it?” You were slightly disappointed that you didn’t know what it was first since you’re the one that is with him most of the time, but you could care less since the whole point is that he knows what he’s working for now.

“Well, his goal is to gain more of a human understanding. He wants to be able to truly write a song. And he found a passion in… people, to simply put it.” Youngho chuckled. “He talks more and asks more questions than he has ever had before.”

“That’s great! I’m so glad, I was really rooting for him.” You cooed.

“I just want to thank you so much. He has been making so much improvement since he started working with you. You really helped us out. You helped him out.” Youngho smiled softly.

“Oh it’s no biggie. I’m glad I was of some help.” You laughed. “He’s the one who did most of the work, so the credit should go to him.”

“I’m supposing that’s why you kissed him then? Because you’re proud of him?” Youngho asked suddenly, a playful smirk on his face.

“What?” Your eyes grew wide in shock. “I kissed him?”

Youngho’s cackles filled the air. “You don’t remember? Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t since you were so drunk last night. Johnny told me you thought he was I, and you kissed him.”

Your fingertips touched your lips after the memories started coming back to you. “Oh my gosh!” You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “This is so embarrassing!”

“Don’t be embarrassed! Actually, I’m quite flattered.” Youngho reassured you. “Just be sure to kiss me next time.”

You brought your hands down from your face so you could get a good look at his expression. You had to figure out whether he was joking or not.

And to answer your unspoken question, he cupped your cheek with his hand and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“Please tell me this feeling is mutual.” You whispered.

Youngho chuckled, poking your nose as he sat back in his seat.

“Don’t worry. I want you to be mine as much as you want me to be yours. You have me baby.”

#nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #johnny suh #johnny #nct u #nct imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #johnny imagines #johnny x reader #johnny scenarios #johnny drabbles #johnny seo #johnny fluff

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shivroyslut · 3 years

Text

I just listened to the whole Evermore album and I’m now on my second listen so here is Evermore songs I think are destiel related and whether they’re from Dean’s or Cas’ perspective (or both) - add more lyrics/parallels if you like

willow - both

“Wherever you stray I will follow”

champagne problems - okay tbh i dont see this as either of them but that one line...

“Your Midas touch on the Chevy door November flush and your flannel cure” - MS SWIFT ??? ARE YOU A HELLER ???? CHEVY, NOVEMBER, AND FLANNEL IN THE SAME SENTENCE ???

gold rush - Cas

“Cause I don't like a gold rush, gold rush; I don't like anticipatin' my face in a red flush; I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch; Everybody wants you; Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you; Walk past, quick brush; I don't like slow motion, double vision in rose blush; I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush” - yeah this is just Cas simping on Dean for so many seasons

“What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?” - But still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester

‘tis the damn season - both

“There's an ache in you, put there by the ache in me; But if it's all the same to you; It's the same to me” - uhm this is just them fighting every season then making up a few epis later

“I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave” - PURGATORY

“I won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay” - THIS IS JUST THE ENTIRE DESTIEL ARC IN THE FIRST HALF OF S15 LMAO

“Now I'm missing your smile, hear me out; We could just ride around; And the road not taken looks real good now” - this is Dean brooding every time Cas dies

tolerate it - Cas

“I sit and watch you; I notice everything you do or don't do”

“I wait by the door like I'm just a kid“

“If it's all in my head tell me now; Tell me I've got it wrong somehow”

“While you were out building other worlds, where was I?” - okay this is dean though

“Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire?; I made you my temple, my mural, my sky; Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life” - this is Cas when they are fighting

“Always taking up too much space or time; You assume I'm fine, but what would you do if I; Break free and leave us in ruins” - again when Dean is being an idiot and they fight

happiness - Cas

“But there was happiness because of you” - Knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. You changed me.

“Past the blood and bruise; Past the curses and cries; Beyond the terror in the nightfall; Haunted by the look in my eyes; That would've loved you for a lifetime; Leave it all behind” - ms swift are you a Cas girl ??

“All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness” - literally Cas just wanting Dean to forgive him for everything

coney island - Dean

“If I can't relate to you anymore; Then who am I related to?” - every time Dean feels betrayed by Cas but especially in s6 when Cas teams up with Crowley, like my man had so much trust in Cas only for him to be wrong

“Sorry for not making you my centerfold”

“The question pounds my head; What's a lifetime of achievement; If I pushed you to the edge?; But you were too polite to leave me; And do you miss the rogue; Who coaxed you into paradise and left you there?; Will you forgive my soul; When you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?” - no offence but this is exactly what went through Dean’s head when he was sitting there crying after Cas got yeeted into the empty

“Over and over; Lost again with no surprises; Disappointments, close your eyes; And it gets colder and colder; When the sun goes down” - Dean mourning every time Cas died after the second time

“And when I got into the accident; The sight that flashed before me was your face; But when I walked up to the podium I think that I forgot to say your name” - uhm Dean seeing Cas as his life flashed before his eyes when he got impaled by the rusty nail and wanted him by his side but the writers were cowards he got caught up in the moment with Sammy and didn’t pray for him to come

“But I think that I forgot to say your name; Over and over” - i just think Dean is hard on himself for not keeping Cas closer to him after Cas died in 15x18

ivy - Dean

“How's one to know?; I'd meet you where the spirit meets the bones In a faith forgotten land; In from the snow; Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow; Tarnished but so grand” - I’M THE ONE WHO GRIPPED YOU TIGHT AND RAISED YOU FROM PERDITION

“And the old widow goes to the stone every day; But I don't, I just sit here and wait; Grieving for the living” - Dean just wanting a win (Cas back) in s13

“I wish to know; The fatal flaw that makes you long to be; Magnificently cursed” - you know just Cas being very cursed throughout the whole show, and the fatal flaw is his love for Dean humanity

“I'd live and die for moments that we stole; On begged and borrowed time” - i think this is for both cause Cas’ line “Dean you know I always appreciate our talks and our time together” but Dean definitely feels the same way I mean he made Cas watch all those movies

cowboy like me - both (very destiel)

“Never wanted love; Just a fancy car; Now I'm waiting by the phone; Like I'm sitting in an airport bar” - this is painfully obviously Dean

“Eyes full of stars; Hustling for the good life; Never thought I'd meet you here; It could be love; We could be the way forward; And I know I'll pay for it” - very obvious Cas line

“And the skeletons in both our closets; Plotted hard to fuck this up” - just the universe not wanting them to be together

long story short - Cas

“I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me”

“And I fell from the pedestal; Right down the rabbit hole”

“When I dropped my sword; I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door; And we live in peace; But if someone comes at us, this time, I'm ready” - Cas always coming back and willing to give up everything for Dean

“And he feels like home”

“Now I'm all about you”

marjorie - both (but mainly Dean)

“Never be so kind; You forget to be clever; Never be so clever; You forget to be kind”

“And if I didn't know better; I'd think you were talking to me now” - No I’m not talking to him, *proceeds to talk to and protect each other*

“What died didn't stay dead” - yah

“I should've asked you questions; I should've asked you how to be; Asked you to write it down for me; Should've kept every grocery store receipt; Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me” - Dean keeping the trench coat every time Cas dies

closure - Dean (but a little Cas)

“And seeing the shape of your name; Still spells out pain” - Dean after 15x18 seeing ‘Castiel’ on the table

“It cut deep to know ya, right to the bone”

“Don't treat me like; Some situation that needs to be handled” - can be Cas too

“I'm fine with my spite; And my tears, and my beers and my candles” - his anger stage when hes undergoing his 5 stages of grief after 15x18, and like every time he and Cas fight

“I don't need your closure” - ^

evermore - both ( this song is so destiel make this their fucking theme song)

“Motion capture; Put me in a bad light; I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone; Trying to find the one where I went wrong; Writing letters; Addressed to the fire” - Cas whenever Dean kicks him out and he doesn’t understand why or when Dean just let’s him go; and Dean in purgatory when he realises Cas was hiding from him, when he changed his memory to believe he let go of Cas, when he found out that Cas is the one who let him go. There is honestly so many examples for this line

“And I was catching my breath; Staring out an open window; Catching my death; And I couldn't be sure; I had a feeling so peculiar; That this pain would be for evermore” - Cas when he realises that he is in love with Dean but he can never be with him; and Dean when he thought he left Cas in purgatory and every time Cas died

“Hey December; Guess I'm feeling unmoored; Can't remember; What I used to fight for; I rewind thе tape but all it does is pause; On thе very moment, all was lost; Sending signals; To be double-crossed” - Cas when heaven pushed him away repeatedly and also when Dean pushed him away repeatedly when he was the whole reason he rebelled; and Dean when he just wanted that win in s13 and every other time he had doubt

“Cannot think of all the cost; And the things that will be lost; Oh, can we just get a pause?; To be certain, we'll be tall again; Whether weather be the frost; Or the violence of the dog days; I'm on waves, out being tossed; Is there a line that I could just go cross?” - you know like whenever they feel hopeless; reminds me of the diner scene in s14e14 where they are talking about Michael

“And when I was shipwrecked; I thought of you; In the cracks of light; I dreamed of you; It was real enough; To get me through; I swear you were there” - Cas simping for Dean; Dean after escaping from purgatory seeing Cas everywhere

Anyways these are just my thought and links don’t attack me I’m just out here wasting time on a ship I was obsessed with in 2015 (I mean I am on break from uni and am jobless). Feel free to add more lyrics or parallels I’m pretty sure I missed quite a few. I do acknowledge that the album is definitely not about destiel and about Taylor herself but its just fascinating to find all these lyrical links to Dean and Cas’ relationship.

#destiel #supernatural #spn #taylor swift #evermore #dean winchester #castiel #jackles longcon #jensen ackles #misha collins

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soul-heart-and-beyond · 5 years

Text

Marshall Headcanons!

I got some good Marshall headcanons that I feel are worth sharing with everyone, especially since this cute sheriff does probably got some good history behind him. There really aren’t any spoilers for this guy as he is new, so this is something at everyone’s leisure!

I kinda had tho think on how to make his hair a little unique, and then I decided to think of it like this, he has two large clumps of hair that can be bangs for him, but he tries to sleek them back with oil to make his do look more pleasant on his image.

The hole in his hat came from when he was first given it by his partner that was the previous sheriff. It was due to Marshall accidentally shooting out of it with the first gun he was licensed to have. Yes, he was a bit careless with his shot, but it was where his first bullet went, and he never patched it up as a reminder to always be careful, think out a situation before doing it, and hope not to cook his goose in the process.

He is a really friendly sheriff that does get along with most of the community of Gumption, even though he may not always be the talk of the town or held in the highest of regards. Usually people try to set him to the example of the sheriff before him, and others just try to block him out, but he doesn’t mind. He’d love to be welcomed by all, but there are those that just are not on the same page as him about everything, and he realizes that. He also knows that sometimes his occupation will not always have him in the good side of the folks hearts, but still has a job to do.

On that note, he has done some things that never really questioned his capability or his honor as sheriff, at least not until after his partner died. Then he was forced to make more decisions than he used to as deputy. It came with the territory and well, he almost had his badge taken away a few times for going past the orders of those with higher status of power than him. However, he did manage to catch his duck at the end of the day while still keeping his job.

While the West was in a time where clean had a different definition from today’s, Marshall does try to keep as clean as he can, and sometimes has trouble with dust getting in his boots. To that end he tries to wash with water about two times a day, once in the morning and once at night.

As much of a nice and positive guy that Cabrera is, he still does have his little tendencies and flaws that he can’t seem to shake away. After all, his partner wasn’t exactly the whole beam of light, but someone that Marshall could aspire to be, and help include that in his own identity as he would excel in the place that he never thought he would before, the way of the trusty lawman. He makes mistakes, can be tempted, chooses the wrong or bad choice without enough information. While seeming so mild mannered he can get more rough and rowdy when he is around those he considers good friends, knowing that they can take his slightly more aggressive but still considerate side.

There are some things about what he does as a duck of the law now, like still look into his education even though he is too old to be a student in college, plus there are no colleges out here in Gumption, unless someone starts one. He does have books on various subjects so he doesn’t get rusty with his knowledge.

However, he doesn’t participate in the fairs like he used to anymore, or well, he doesn’t compete in them anymore. Instead, he’ll go to watch the contestants compete with their inventions and contraptions, even give out a little friendly advice to those with problems he observes or notices to fix it before or after the presentation, whenever he can get time really. Marshall’s truly supposed to be there on the lookout for anyone trying to tamper or negatively affect the fair, but he can’t just sit around and do nothing, not when he could help someone get to a place that he couldn’t.

He doesn’t try to mess with making things anymore as he feels it would only be a waste of time as what he already built in the past never really was able to get up off of its feet well, so him being an inventor of any kind was washed down the hole along with any of those dreams. The only reason he remembers them as a sign of how he got to where he is today and that is another reminder that not everything is exactly what you want to be the first time you think of it.

Marshall does have a belt that he usually leaves in his office as it can feel a little off setting to those folks that don’t like their law enforcers that always carry a weapon around with them. For that he tries to use rationalizing as his main method of dealing with people who are about to or have already broken the law. It’s a good way to keep him from relying on his gun, something his partner told him to do even though he always carried his revolver around too just like any other sheriff.

Sometimes he does put the belt on though as a way make sure other know that he has one, and that they shouldn’t think about pulling one over him or thinking that he can’t do anything about them. Just like a warning, most of the time but he didn’t spend a good amount of time with his friend shooting barrels, cans, and bottles as target practice for nothing.

About his gun, it’s really nothing special, just a standard handgun that he was given, so there is not really much to be said about it past it being his first gun ever to hold. Basic six shooter that can be holstered in a regular holster.

His friend’s gun that he very rarely uses however, is something else entirely. Usually he would never touch the firearm without the other’s permission, and even now that he’s passed away he still has what could be like a projection of him in his head as they talk. It sounds crazy, yes, but there have been weirder things that happened in that time too. The gun is a black six shooter with a longer barrel for better accuracy, and that’s it. Though that is what he will need for any man he has to put down that he’s ordered to do. Outside of those times, Marshall would love to keep the gun hidden next to his partner’s grave, but knowing how thieves may steal stuff like that up there, he keeps it with him in a box in his office.

The sheriff is single as he never really found someone that he might believe would be his love or not. Not that he doesn’t have family in the town, he still has his parents that are very old now, just that he hasn’t found a girl or whoever may come into his life and shoot that love bullet into his heart.

He’s got a daily routine of stretching to keep his muscles relaxed and not stressed, as that was something he had to do while training with his pal. They did have good times, but stretching in the morning wasn’t one of them until later into their relationship.

When his friend was still alive he did get introduced into smoking, as that was a common thing for males to do back then. It really wasn’t through peer pressure as he wanted to see how it was like. Felling all tough and confident in himself was something at that point in time he needed help with as he was still finding his way. Fortunately enough, the sheriff did oblige and helped his deputy go through it without any potential dangers that could have rose up, to the best of his ability at least. Now Marshall has continued to smoke, though he does limit himself on how many cigars he smokes a day. Cigarettes were something that did seem more like him, but he wanted to be bold, strong, and have that confident demeanor his former higher up had.

After his friend passed away, Marshall did slightly slip into a period of alcoholism, as he wasn’t really sure if he could live up to what his pal had done before him. The one that he sought to sometimes like a second father, a guy who was ready to fight for him whenever he needed help and stand back whenever Marshall needed his time in the rodeo ring. However, with enough convincing from his parents and old friends from when he was in his scientist days, he managed to creep out of the phase and have a brighter outlook on what he should be.

One notable thing that he’s good with is lassoing. As he was seen to have a rope in his office, he probably takes pride in lassoing things. After all, it does take a lot less effort to practice with than any contraption he built.

When it comes to strength, Marshall is not really that strong, but just that he has good resilience and endurance. For some things, he can lift a few heavy boxes, but where he does his best at is how long for how far. He might be able to keep you in his grip due to his strength being average, but he can carry you, he can do it from one side of the town and back about three times.

As much as he tries not to think about it, he does still have some of his things in the home that his parents still live in. It might be the benefit of having two homes now that he is the sheriff, but just more room to put stuff that doesn’t require immediate use.

He does visit his parents and friends casually as he does like to show that he loves and cares for them. Even if they tease him about acting like a deputy still or that he hasn’t gotten a girl yet. He’s trying, but he’s not sleazy.

Most of his time is spent either in the jailhouse or outside interacting with the townsfolk. Sometimes he enters in public places just to keep an eye out for any potential trouble brewing, but sometimes he’s there to do his business and then leave. Maybe get a little chatty with others there but that’s something he can’t keep himself away from.

Marshall shuffles a lot as he sleep due to him not being very stiff. He likes movement, but he doesn’t have the jitters or fidget all of the time.

You might be able to tempt Cabrera with some honeysuckle or sugar, but that’s usually for things he’s willing to let go anyway. If it was anything serious, more thought is given into the circumstances of the situation and he’d take it more seriously.

He does like his sense of fashion as no sheriff or lawman worth his bits wouldn’t wear something they don’t like. This makes him a little more satisfied whenever he does go shopping for new clothes or accessories as he feels like he has something that resonates with him on a personal level rather than just regular clothing.

#(This is going to be a lot as there so much I have to separate from both Dragon's Marshall and my Quick Draw.)#(Hopefully that does work with this and it is infodumping to the supreme but that's necessary sometimes.)#(He's not the perfect boy like Fenton in fact he's far from it but he has had a long way to come from to be considered competition.)#(In that cute and adorable department though he would prefer the term handsome and charming. Fancy works too.)#(After all Marshall is an older and more experienced duck than Fenton in many aspects outside of science and technology.)#Out Of Soul (ooc)#A Sheriff Doing his Duty (Marshall Cabrera)#Guard Impact! (Headcanons)

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nuclear-reactions · 6 years

Note

New Vegas romanced companions getting jealous? Do you think you could include Mr house and my checkerd suit boi Benny too?

(Rex, ED-E, and Lily excluded cause it’s only romanced characters)

Boone- Boone’sjealousy looks the same as his rage, his sorrow, his joy- it’s hardto catch. He’s a hard man to read, and he likes it that way. Jealousyis not an unfamiliar sensation for him. People looked at Carla allthe time, and it rose his hackles whenever eyes lingered on her alittle too long. Really, feeling that same scalding rush go up hisback when they share a drink with a stranger in a bar, it’s the firsttime he thinks maybe he wants to be more than a spotter for them.Keeping things bottled up like he’s prone to doing, it made it hardto untangle his own feelings. All he really knows is he doesn’t likehow close they are to Six. So he takes a seat on their other side. Ifany man was capable of melting someone with their gaze, while alsonever taking off his sunglasses, it’d be Boone. He stares holesthrough them, with only the slightest wrinkle near his mouth to tipoff his disdain, until eventually they sheepishly slink off. Hedoesn’t mention it. Neither does Six, but they most certainly noticeit. They notice it the next six times it happens too.

Veronica- Sheknows its her own hangup, and something she has no right to inflicton anyone. But she can’t help the twinge in her chest. Veronica hadnever been a very violent person. Nor did she consider herself thejealous type- she never had been with Christine or any of her otherpartners. Seeing Six close to someone else, however, stirs her upmore than she’d like. She can only stand to watch for a few minutesbefore she casually walks over, brings up her arm, around which she’sclapped her power fist, and lets it hit the table with a thunk loudenough to make her presence known. The mechanisms in it whirred idle.The loud sound of the initial clunk, along with her all toosaccharine smile, is enough on its own. When Six fixes her with alook, the jealousy that had pulled her up to stand so talldissipates, and she deflates. “I wasn’t really gonna-” Shegestures to her gauntlet, but even she isn’t sure if what she says istrue. She certainly felt a very real impulse in the moment. At aloss, she simply props her chin up in her hand and gives a very wideopen mouth grin. Six gives in pretty quickly and they’re all hersonce more.

Arcade- Herationalizes himself into a corner. He knows the heat in his neck andface are irrational, that Six is just being friendly with someoneelse, that there was absolutely no reason for him to get this tenseand protective of them. He does anything he can to distract himself.Rummaging around his pack, he produces a clipboard and pencil, andbusies himself with writing to avoid focusing on the exchange that isgoing on for way too long nearby. Throwing himself into his work washow he dealt with most unpleasant feelings. He unconsciously holdsthe pencil so tight his fingers cramp. However, he doesn’t realizethis until they put their hand on Six’s shoulder, and he snaps thething in two. Arcade doesn’t want to feel this. He most certainlydoesn’t want to act like he had some claim over another human being,just because they flirted and once, gotten close enough to kiss. Thatdoesn’t stop the ugly seeds of jealousy from burying themselves inhis throat. But knowing why he feels the way he does, and knowing howuseless an emotion jealousy is, doesn’t stop him from being overcomeby it. All he can really do is burn until he’s spent. Like hell hewas ever going to admit how he felt.

Raul- Out of allof them, his is the least…theatrical reaction. Raul’s been aroundlong enough to run the gauntlet of relationships, and he knew theonly thing quicker to poison a relationship than infidelity isjealousy. There are the slightest pangs in his chest at first to seeSix engage with someone that’s not him. It’s almost nice. It’s an oldfeeling he hasn’t experienced in a long time, and with it camememories of a foolish youth when there was a fire in him. But he knewthat fire was misguided, too often directed at a significant other,and as with all fire, it was only effective at burning things down.He takes a moment to breathe, remind himself that Six had chosen him.They had the whole Mojave to choose from, and they had picked thisold ghoul. Because they loved him. He trusted them more than anyonein the world. The thought brings a smile to his face. It shifts thelight, pushes back at the encroaching edges of jealousy, and he’scomfortable again. He does also take a moment to slip his arm aroundSix’s waist. In case it wasn’t clear who they belonged to.

Cass- Cass’jealousy manifests pretty blatant and openly. The second she gets somuch of a whiff of someone impeding on her space, she makes a pointto push forward into Six’s space. She is the least subtle person inthe Mojave, and she doesn’t waste time pussy footing around what shewants. She fixes Six’s suitor with a look, not of jealousy, or anger,but a passiveness that said they were hardly worth the trouble, andgestures over her shoulder. “Scram, dick. You’re barking up thewrong tree.” If you could say anything of Cass, it was that she wasblunt as a rusty machete. But what else was she to do? Sit back andglare at this bozo and Six, when she could just be upfront about it.That’s not her style, and it’s a quick way to grow resentful of yoursignificant other. That shit’s beneath her. If she has to spend thenight with her arm wrapped around Six’s shoulders to avoid gettinghit on, that’s what she’d do.

Benny- He’s agentleman, isn’t he? A gentleman doesn’t seethe with jealousy when hesees someone chatting up his doll. A gentleman most certainly doesn’tthen corner that poor soul when Six is out of sight, and surely, hewould never have his men march them into his room. A gentleman likehim-really, a scholar, an all around level-headed, renaissance manlike him- doesn’t break that fucker’s nose with a pair of brassknuckles. Threats that if he ever saw them anywhere near Six againwere beneath him. And surely, he was too good to break one of theirkneecaps with a baseball bat. But then, Benny never really was agentleman, and love’s a funny thing. It could make a man gopositively tribal. That’s what the poor sod that hit on Six learns,anyway. It’s a lesson they remember every time they put weight ontheir shattered patella.

Mr. House- Beingthe ultimate sugar daddy in the post apocalypse, as well as agenerally formless super computer, his jealousy manifests a bitdifferently. When one of his security cameras catches Six and astranger touching their arm, House discretely has that person’spermission to enter the Strip revoked, and they’re booted the nextday. Then, rather abruptly, they vanish. People vanished all thetime, after all. What was one more? The next time Six enters thesuite, there are drinks on ice waiting, as well as a gleaming newrifle and a bumper stock of ammo to fill it with. The finest theSilver Rush had to offer when he sent an attache out to shop for him.He’s bought out their entire stock of hollow points and armorpiercing rounds- as well as hundreds of rounds for Six’s favoriteweapons. He says nothing of the incident, only that he felt likebuying a gift for them. For a decrepit old man piloting an intricateintelligence network, he’s exceptionally good at marking histerritory, and not a soul in Vegas thinks about looking twice at Sixagain once word gets out.

#companion reactions #fallout #fallout new vegas #arcade gannon #raul tejada #craig boone #veronica santangelo #Rose Of Sharon Cassidy #mr house #benny gecko

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roslinadama-sinequanon · 5 years

Text

Saying Good-Bye To Yesterday-Chapter 9

In this chapter: Andy, Sharon, and Rusty struggle with a difficult case that is hitting close to home. Sharon sees some parallels between how Rusty is feeling in his relationship with Gus and how she felt at the beginning with Jack.

You can read it here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13004092/9/Saying-Good-Bye-to-Yesterday or here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15321687/chapters/41186072 or right here

“You know, I really don’t understand it. I’ve been taking the anti-inflammatory pills, I’m doing the exercises they gave me at physical therapy, and it doesn’t hurt anymore, so why do I sometimes still get that tingling in my hand?” Andy looked across the dining room table as if Sharon could give him the answers his doctor couldn’t. Because until that damn tingling went away they weren’t going to allow him back in the field.

“Eventually you will agree with me, that it’s stress.”

“Stress? I don’t feel stress. I mean where would this stress come from?”

“Well, being part of a mass shooting where your friends and colleagues were shot and killed in front of you is pretty stressful, not knowing who is going to replace Taylor is stressful, going across the country with your whole family and meeting your girlfriend’s parents can be stressful, and I am pretty certain that asking someone to marry you can be a little stressful, and---“ She cut off her litany of stress when she heard the door open.

“Rusty?” She’d only seen him briefly that morning at work and when she‘d discreetly questioned him regarding his breakfast meeting with Gus, he‘d simply told her he didn‘t know how to talk about yet. That, along with his hangdog expression, and general disinterest and disengagement in their case, told her that it hadn’t gone well at all.

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” His voice trailed off as he disappeared down the hall into his bedroom.

Andy took in her worry, along with Rusty’s lack of appetite, and jumped to a different conclusion. “So, uh, did you get a chance to say anything to him yet about the Stroh report?”

“No, no, no. At this point, it’s just conjecture. You know what, excuse me.” Her boy was hurting and Mama Sharon could not let that go without offering some type of comfort.

Rusty’s door was slightly ajar. She gave a couple knocks and pushed it open to find him sprawled on his back on the bed. Entering his room, she leaned back against the dresser. “What happened with Gus?” She asked.

“I gave him all the reasons I felt it was a bad idea to move in together. I’m still in college, I have law school after that. It will probably be years before I get a real job.”

“And he broke up with you?”

“No, he didn’t. He gave me that big smile of his like it’s always the best day ever, and he said that his new promotion would let him pay for all of our living expenses and then some.”

“And you still said no.”

“Yeah, I did. And then he broke up with me.”

“Is there any other reason why you said no?”

“It just doesn’t feel right. Is that a reason? And also there’s this really loud voice in my head screaming don’t do it.”

A chill of recognition ran through Sharon’s veins. Those same voices had screamed at her not to marry Jack, only she hadn’t listened to them. She’d shoved them aside, ignoring them until it was too late. “Instinct. Ask any cop. Sometimes there’s a shiver that runs up your spine and you have to pay attention to that.”

“But I’ve never loved anyone the way that I love Gus and the idea of never seeing him again makes me sick to my stomach.

“Which is why, once you’ve identified your instinct, then you’ve got to try to figure out where it came from in the first place and see if you can better explain yourself to Gus.”

“I guess. Mom, I don’t mean to be rude, but I think I’d just like to be alone right now.”

Sharon nodded but bent to kiss the top of his head before she left. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

*****

“Everything okay?” Andy asked when she joined him back at the table.

“Mmmm….” She sat back in her chair, lost in her thoughts.

He eyed the platter of fish that lay between them. “Are you going to eat that?”

“No, I think I lost my appetite.“

Andy speared the last piece of salmon, taking a bite before asking, “So you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“Gus broke up with Rusty.”

“You’re kidding.”

She quirked a brow. “You sound surprised.”

“Well, yeah. I am. I guess I gave the kid more credit than he deserved. I thought he loved Rusty.”

“I think maybe he does.”

“Breaking up with him is a funny way to show it.”

“Hmm…”

“If it is love, it’s immature love. Selfish love. And if that‘s the case, he‘s definitely better off not moving in with him.”

She watched Andy continue to dig into his meal, finally asking, “Would you care to elaborate?”

He set down his fork and pushed his plate away. “Look, I’ve been where Gus is. I had a hard time getting up the courage to ask you to move in with me. When it’s something you want that badly, it’s a risk. But, like I said last night, if you’d said no, that you weren’t ready, I sure as hell wouldn’t have broken up with you. You’re not doing what I want, so I’m going to dump you?“ His face twisted with derision. “How selfish is that?”

She nodded in agreement.

“I‘m not saying I wouldn’t have been hurt or disappointed, but break up with you because you weren‘t on the same timeline as me? Hell no. I mean, seriously, how do you go from one minute wanting to share your entire life with someone to the next minute cutting them completely out of it?”

“I don’t know. Sounds like he’s cutting his losses.”

“Well, I never would have done that. That isn‘t love.“

“I know.” She rested her hand over his with a tender smile. If there was one thing she was certain of in this uncertain world, it was how much Andy loved her.

“I would have just worked even harder to bring you around.”

She lifted the hand she’d covered and kissed the back of it. “I know you would have. You are very stubborn. And very persuasive.”

“You know it. No way was I ever going to lose you.”

“Well, you were never in jeopardy of that happening. And, let’s remember, this is Rusty we’re talking about. Communicating his feelings is not his strong point. Who knows how he responded to Gus.”

“Doesn’t matter. If Gus is ready to move in with him, he ought to know the kid’s baggage by now. I knew yours and I was prepared it.”

“Yes, you were.” She suppressed a smile at the memory. She’d told him they would talk about him selling his house and moving in together over dinner. But, before allowing her a simple yes or no, he’d carefully laid out all the benefits of living together. And, having already anticipated all the questions and concerns she might have, he had his answers in place. For a man who would have been happy jumping right into things, it was clear that he had done a lot of preparation. They were oil and water that way. He was impetuous, while she was all about meticulous planning. The fact that he understood and respected that about her, had warmed her heart and convinced her even more that she was making the right decision.

“And then you surprised me. When you said yes right away, it threw me off my game. I still had a lot of arguments left.”

“Oh, and I ruined that for that you.”

He grinned at the amusement dancing in her eyes. “Hardly. You made my night.” He’d been so nervous walking into that restaurant. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to eat a thing until he had her answer. When she‘d said yes, it had turned the meal into a celebration.

“Well, I was ready and I wanted to share my life with you as much as you wanted to share yours with me. But, you know, with filling out the annulment paperwork, I’ve been thinking a lot about my marriage and I understand how Rusty is feeling right now. Gus is his first love. He‘s terrified of losing him and never feeling that way again, even when every instinct he has is screaming at him that he isn’t ready.”

“You sound like you speak from experience. Is that how you felt with Jack?”

She nodded sadly, with a resigned sigh. “Yes. I knew I wasn’t ready, and I knew I shouldn’t let him pressure me. But, I was so afraid of losing him. Looking back, I know what a red flag that was, but I was so young and so inexperienced. I thought I’d never feel the way I was feeling for him ever again.”

He nodded with understanding. “It’s hard when you’re young to know the difference between selfish love, love, and forever love.”

“Mmm, that‘s the truth… I thought Jack pressuring me to marry him was an indication of his passionate love for me. I thought it was romantic. Now I know it was all about fear and selfishness. He wanted me out here because he didn’t want to be alone, and because he was afraid that he was going to lose me if I went off to Yale and started to work toward my own dreams. Neither of us really trusted the other, and you can’t build a life with a foundation lacking in trust.”

“No, you can’t.” Lack of trust had been a huge issue in his marriage as well.

“What I have with you is so different.” She rose from the table and moved to him, sitting on his lap and cupping his face in her palms. “You‘re my forever love, Andy.”

“And you’re mine. “ His words were muffled against her mouth when she pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss. Then she pulled back, continuing to stroke her fingertips over the planes of his cheeks, her eyes searching his, reading nothing but truth and love in their soft, melted chocolate depths.

“You know, I used to think that kind of stuff was bullshit,“ he said. A few years ago, the term forever love would have had him scoffing and rolling his eyes. “But the things that I feel for you, and the way that I feel about us, it’s not like anything I’ve ever felt for anyone before. Ever. ” He pulled the hand that was stroking his face toward his mouth and kissed her palm with a reverence that caused Sharon’s breath to catch in her chest.

“Oh, God.”

They both gave a start, the romantic moment cut short by Rusty coming around the corner from the living room with a disgusted groan. A few months ago, they might have jumped apart, but now they were comfortable in their relationship and unafraid to show affection in front of others.

Rusty put his head down and made his way into the kitchen, ignoring what was going on in the dining room. “Don’t mind me, I’m just getting a drink.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t,” Andy assured him, holding Sharon in place on his lap when she started to rise.

Although Rusty shook his head as he opened the refrigerator, the little intimate moment was far less compromising than some of the positions he’d caught them in in the past. Still, given the tender state of his heart, witnessing anything romantic hurt.

Sharon’s phone went off where she’d left it near her plate and she rose to answer it. “Hello, Mike.” She listened to what her Lieutenant had to say, responded, and then hung up.

Andy was already on his feet, grabbing for the suit coat he’d discarded when they got home from work. He’d heard enough from her side of the conversation to know where they were going. “Back to headquarters?“

She nodded. “Back to headquarters.”

******

A break had come in their latest case. Money was found. A lot of money. Apparently, their murder victim, Gavin Jacobs, while working for a security company, had stolen computers from his clients and was then using what he found on their hard drives to blackmail them. Mike had been trying throughout the night to get through the encryption and find out what was on his computer, as that would ultimately show them who had the most to gain from his death. Meanwhile, the rest of the team was in the process of interviewing the 13 people who’d had their laptops stolen. Sharon was watching one of those interviews, along with Andy, Andrea, Rusty, Wes and Buzz when Mike entered the room.

“Captain, we cracked the password on the victim’s laptop, but I just want to say, prepare yourselves.”

Sharon paused mid-rise at those ominous words and sat back down, steeling herself for what was to come. She knew it was going to be bad, not just from Tao’s solemn warning, but by the way Julio was unable to meet her eyes when she entered the murder room. Still, one could never be completely prepared to process the kind of despicable perversion that popped up on the computer screen when Mike hit play. At the first sight of the naked young girl in the midst of a carnal act she should have been years away from partaking in, her stomach fell and clenched. For a moment, she thought she might be sick. Corpses she could deal with, but this…this…

“Now we know why all the extra effort to protect his files,” Julio stated flatly.

“Oh my God, how old are those girls?” Amy asked.

“11...12” Mike responded without looking at the screen. He‘d seen more than enough.

“Eh Gods.” Provenza shook his head with disgust and walked away.

Rusty got a glimpse of what was on the screen, then, processing the revulsion on display in the room, he was overcome by a sickening wave of shame. Those girls, they were only a year or two younger than he was when he’d started turning tricks on the street. One guy had even offered him a lot of money to make a video. When he‘d seen the camera, he pretended to go along with it, then when the guy was in the bathroom, he’d run away and lost almost a whole nights pay. That could have been him they were all watching. The very idea of his mother seeing him like that, of having that look that she had right now, a combination of dismay and repugnance, made him want to run. In the past, he would have run, and it took every ounce of strength that he had to remain rooted in the same spot. You can’t run from your past, it follows you wherever you go. Words of wisdom that his mother had been impressing upon him for years.

“Stop, stop, Mike, I’ve had enough.” Sharon closed her eyes with relief when Mike shut the laptop and she didn’t have to watch any more of that filth.

“Gavin has a ton of this stuff on his hard drive.”

Sharon swallowed against the bile that rose in her throat.

“Okay, first we should make sure that neither the victim nor his roommate were depicted in any of these videos or photos. Or their clothes or furniture.”

Sharon could hear Andrea speaking. She understood what she was saying, yet, even although Mike had shut the screen, she was still trying to work through what she’d just witnessed. She took a deep breath. Breaking down over this wasn’t going to get them anywhere. She was a professional, she had to keep it together and nail the pervert who got off on this stuff and the ones profiteering from it. “Mike, call the FBI and tell them what we’ve got here and see if they can help us clarify where these pictures came from.” She walked away, needing to distance herself from those videos.

“Did all this stuff belong to the victim or someone he was blackmailing?” Rusty asked Provenza.

“That‘s what we‘re gonna have to try and find out. Human beings, what a species, huh?”

“Sharon?” Andy glanced up when she paused at his desk. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, um. Just tired.“ She rubbed at her temples. They’d worked right through the night and it was now almost noon. “There’s really nothing more we can do here until the FBI goes through everything. I think we should go home and get some sleep.”

“It has been a long night,” he agreed.

“You want to stop and get some lunch?” She asked as they got on the elevator. The bagels and coffee Wes had brought them at 6:30 am had long since worn off.

“No. After watching that crap I don’t have much of an appetite,” Andy said. “I think I just want to get a few hours of shut-eye. You?”

“I’m good.”

*****

Back at the condo, they were both too tired to do much more than strip off their clothes and slip under the covers in their underwear, falling sound asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. When they awakened almost six hours later, it was dark in the bedroom.

“You gonna take a shower?” Andy asked when the alarm went off.

“No, I’m too tired to deal with drying my hair tonight. I’ll take one in the morning.”

“Me too.”

Sharon swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a moment in her bra and panties, yawning and stretching her limbs. Her stomach gave a little rumble of distress, causing Andy to chuckle.

“I’m hungry too,” he admitted.

“Mm…” she hummed. “What do you want to do for dinner? I thawed out some chicken and we have spaghetti squash. We could do something with that and make a small salad to go with it. Or, we could just make some tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“Tomato soup and grilled cheese sounds good to me, I don’t feel like really cooking.”

“Me either. Comfort food it is.“

They got dressed in comfortable lounging clothes, Sharon pinned her hair back from her face, and they went out to make dinner. Rusty arrived home in time to eat with them and then they all settled in the living room, Rusty doing schoolwork, while Andy and Sharon worked on their case. Andy was getting himself a drink when his phone rang. Sharon heard the end of the conversation when he came out of the kitchen.

“I don’t envy you. Yeah, well, thanks Mike, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Andy clicked off his phone and approached the couch where Sharon was seated making notes on a legal pad. He knelt on the carpet behind her. “That’s Tao. He’s sitting with the FBI taskforce combing through the database looking for similar material and they’re only halfway done.” Sharon inhaled deeply and looked to the heavens. She could only imagine what Tao was going through having to watch hour upon hour of those horrific videos and pictures. After less than a minute, she’d been very close to vomiting.

“So far no furniture or clothing that match anything belonging to Jacobs or ‘wigged out’.”

“Could someone have killed the victim for collecting child porn?” Rusty asked.

“Most likely Gavin found it on one of the computers he stole and was extorting the owner for large sums of money.” Sharon continued to write her notes while she spoke. It helped her to get her thoughts out before they slipped away.

“Just possessing that kind of trash you could end your life in prison,” Andy said.

“Okay, well don’t get me wrong, those pictures and those videos, they were beyond disgusting, obviously, but if the suspect didn’t make them---”

“No, no, no,” Andy cut him off. “It doesn’t work that way. Trading in kiddie porn creates a market to abuse more children.”

“And the problems don’t end with molestation,” Sharon added. “Sexually assaulted children usually take years to process the experience, and then the trauma can be triggered again by situations that emotionally they feel is similar.

“Emotionally similar?” Rusty’s heart skipped a beat, suddenly he got it.

“Yes.” Sharon’s eyes narrowed and lasered in on Andy rubbing his hand. He stopped as soon as he saw she was watching. She knew it was tingling---and that he was trying to hide that from her.

“You should come to yoga with me this weekend,” she said, setting her legal pad down beside her on the couch.

He rolled his eyes.

“Don’t give me that look. The doctor said it’s good to stretch it out.”

“He also said massage might help.”

“Yes, he did.” She fought a smile at his hopeful tone.

“Well, if I’m weighing in between yoga or a Sharon Raydor special neck massage, guess which one I’m going to choose?”

“You’re nothing if not predictable.” She rose, stretched her muscles out, then reached for his hand. “Come on, I’ll give you the massage. Tomorrow’s going to be another long day. Good-night, Rusty.”

“’Yeah, night kid.”

“Um…Yeah... Good-night.”

*************

Andy rolled over in bed and looked at the clock. 3:00 am. Sharon had been gone for over a half hour. Shoving the blankets off, he sat on the side of the bed rubbing his hand through his hair. It had been a rough night. He’d felt her tossing and turning from the moment they shut the lights off, and this time not because of a hot flash. He knew when she had those. She ’d roll away from him, stick a bare leg out, or kick off the covers, only to shiver and pull them back up after only a minute or so. “That’s why they call them flashes,“ she said when he questioned how quickly she went from hot to cold. This was different. And he knew why. Because he wasn’t finding it any easier to sleep than she was.

He found her in the living room, sitting in the dark staring into space, a cup of tea and a discarded book beside her on the end table.

“Sharon?”

She looked up at him with a little smile, holding out her hand. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No.” He bent to kiss her forehead, before kneeling beside her chair. “I rolled over and you weren’t there. But I couldn’t sleep either.”

“I know.” She’d heard him sigh a couple times and reposition himself, which wasn’t like him. Andy wasn’t a restless sleeper. “It’s just. Every time I close my eyes I keep picturing those little girls.”

“Me too. I see Nic at that age, snuggling in bed with her stuffed animals, not with…well.”

Sharon nodded, tears welling in her eyes. She’d thought of Emily too, her little ballerina, and the shattering of innocence. Thankfully, their daughters had never experienced that kind of abuse. But one of her son’s had.

“I can’t stop thinking about Rusty. I’ve tried really hard not to dwell on the life that he lived in those crack houses with his mother and then out on the streets. But, when I think about what those men did to him, the kinds of things that he was subjected to when he was just a little boy…it just….Oh, God… Andy, it breaks my heart.” She lost the tenuous hold she had on her tears and covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking with soft sobs.

Andy rose, gently pulling her over to the couch where he could hold her in his arms. Nothing he could do or say could change, or make her feel better about what happened to her boy, so he didn’t try. He just held her until she stopped crying.

“I’m sorry,” she said blotting at her eyes with a little sniffle when he handed her a tissue. It wasn’t the first time she’d cried over Rusty, but it was the first time she‘d allowed herself to cry with someone else. For years she’d put on a brave face, hiding her pain over the nightmare of his childhood and forcing back the fury she so often felt toward the mother who had neglected, abused and finally abandoned him. But sometimes it had proven to be too much, and alone in her bed at night, she’d wept for him.

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing to be sorry about. Bottling everything up isn’t healthy.”

“I guess it just caught up with me. Some cases do that.”

“They do. This is the kind of shit that used to send me into a bottle.”

She looked up, a flash of worry crossing her face. “Do you need to go to a meeting?”

Her concern left him feeling warm all over. “No, I’m okay,” he said while brushing a tendril of hair back off her face. “Sometimes all it takes is having someone to talk it out with.”

“You know I’m always here for you, Andy.“ She toyed with the hem of his t-shirt, the way she did when she was nervous or uncomfortable. “But if you need more than I can give you. If you need a meeting. I want you to know that I understand.”

“I know you do. And I appreciate that more than you can ever know.”

Not many people really understood the importance of AA in his life. For a long time, there had been his job and AA, and not much else. The program had changed that for him. It had given him his life back. It had saved his job, several friendships, and most importantly his relationship with his daughter. And, without AA, there was no way he would be sitting here today in the most profound, amazing relationship he’d ever had in his life. Because without AA, he wouldn’t have Sharon. AA had given him back his dignity. It had allowed him to examine, understand, and accept his past. It had given him the courage to apologize to all those he had hurt with his bad behavior and was there to support him when not all his amends had been met with grace, but instead, with bitterness and skepticism. Best of all, it had enabled him to become a better man and to have hope for a better future. It had been his lifeline. And now, 20 years into his sobriety, it was allowing him the opportunity to give back and help others going through what he’d gone through. Not everyone understood that. Certainly not many of the women he’d dated over the years, and definitely not his ex, but Sharon did. She understood him and saw things in him that nobody ever had.

“You think you can get some sleep now?” He asked, when he saw her yawn, her head falling sleepily against his shoulder.

“I do.” She placed a sweet kiss on his rough jaw before rising and following him into their bedroom, feeling much lighter than when she’d left. After so many years on her own, she’d grown used to keeping her emotions to herself. And for the most part, she was okay with that. She was strong and confident in her abilities to handle whatever was thrown at her. But, she’d almost forgotten how nice it was, how comforting, to have someone to share her feelings with. Someone who was there in the middle of the night when things always seemed so much worse than in the light of day. Someone who could understand, and, even when there was nothing he could say or do to help, simply hold her and make her feel less alone.

It felt good.

*****

“I didn’t molest anybody. I’m the victim here. I was molested as a kid. I didn’t know how to talk to anybody about it. I…I tried to keep it a secret. How do you tell someone you’ve been sexually abused?”

They had their suspect. Dean Lewis, a young adult author of all things. Now he was trying to explain himself, explain why he had a laptop filled with child pornography, and Rusty was finding that his excuses were hitting a little too close to home. His head down, sick to his stomach, he listened to the rest of the plea bargain, listened to Dean’s lawyer accept Andrea’s terms with the promise to expose every child pornographer he’d come into contact with.

“I don’t want to hear any more of this.” If Julio had his way Dean would be on his way to the electric chair right now, and he’d be happy to flip the switch.

“Well, nobody wants you in there with the guy anyway,” Provenza said.

“Yeah, you can help Provenza and me file the report. It’ll take hours,” Andy said, following Provenza and Julio out of the interview room.

Sharon turned to Rusty who was still looking a little green around the gills. “And that means you’re free to go,” she said. “Andrea won’t need you anymore tonight.”

“Well, I might as well wait for you. I don’t really have anywhere else to be.”

“I wonder if that’s true.”

Rusty watched her leave the room. Situations that felt emotionally similar. That’s what she’d said to him last night. Was that why he was reacting so strongly to Gus wanting to move in with him and to this case? Because he’d been molested too?

Before Sharon, before Dr. Joe, he never would have used that term for what he’d gone through. Back when he’d first moved in with her, Sharon had referred to him as a victim, had implied that he’d been raped, and he‘d lashed out at her. He wasn‘t a victim. He‘d been in charge of his life. After all, he was the one who’d gone out on the street soliciting men. He’d asked for it, right? At the time, he’d thought so. But now, after years of therapy, he understood more. Sharon was right. He had been a victim. A survivor. After years of having to take care of himself and his mother, he might have felt like an adult, but at only 13 when he’d been abandoned, forced to live on his own and to try to find a way to survive, he really was just a child. Sure, he’d had other choices. He could have gone into foster care. But, back then, he’d been so sure that his biological mother would return for him, the last thing he wanted to do was disappear into the foster care system.

Yet, that interview with Dean had him thinking hard about what might have happened to him if Sharon hadn’t taken him in. What if she hadn’t offered him unconditional love, along with food, shelter and an education? What if she hadn’t pushed through his resistance and gotten him the counseling that he now knew he’d needed with Dr. Joe? Where would he be today? Dead. Maybe. But what scared him more than that, scared him down to the very marrow of his bones, was Dean Lewis. Could he have become like Dean?

He knew the statistics. A few years ago when he was looking for a stamp, Sharon had told him to look in her desk drawer. In the drawer, he’d seen a book she was reading, “When Your Child Has Been Molested: A Parents Guide to Healing and Recovery.“ His heart hammering, he’d opened it. She had highlighted several passages. He read one on suicide rates and another that had stated that boys who were sexually abused, particularly if they came from a home with severe maternal neglect and violence, often turned out to be abusers themselves. He’d slammed the book shut, closed the drawer, and tried to forget what he’d read. Now he couldn’t help but wonder… Could he have turned out like Dean Lewis if Sharon hadn’t come along? He owed almost everything he was today to Sharon, his mother, and he wasn’t quite ready to let that go yet. Despite his façade of bravado, inside he was still a mass of insecurities. Somehow, he knew he had to fix that, to finish his healing process before he could completely give himself to someone else. And to do that he needed to stay right where he was. He probably should have articulated that better to Gus, but until now, he hadn’t completely realized what had been holding him back.

When Gus had offered to pay for everything if they moved in together, it had spent him spiraling into a tailspin and he hadn‘t been able to think straight. He’d worked so hard to change his views on sexuality, to divorce the things he’d done as a boy that felt so dirty and shameful, from the relationship he was in today as a young man. He hadn’t even realized how warped his views about sex were until Sharon had tried to help him see the difference.

One night, before Andy had moved in, after telling Sharon that he’d be out late with TJ, he’d come home to find the door to her bedroom ajar. He‘d heard his mother‘s soft moans and the deeper rough groans coming from Andy, along with the tell-tale thumping of the bed. The kind of obscene sounds and behavior that he’d experienced with his biological mother but had never associated with Sharon. He’d thought she was above all that. Later, when he‘d expressed that sentiment to her, Sharon had been appalled by his views. She’d tried to explain to him that sex was not supposed to be a transactional act or one that left a person feeling degraded, that at it’s best it was a physical joining meant to express love and give pleasure. At the time he’d been embarrassed by the conversation. No kid liked to talk about sex with their mother, especially after knowing she’d just been having sex. But it was a conversation that had stuck with him because it had helped him to look at sex in a totally different way.

Then he’d met Gus and they’d become intimate, and that sure hadn‘t been easy. There were a lot of emotions he’d had to work through and he knew there were times he tried Gus‘s patience. But it was difficult to change gears, to view an act that he’d dreaded and detested to one that was supposed to express love. But he was working through it and slowly things were getting better. Then, out of the blue Gus had thrown this curveball at him, asking him to move in with him, then offering to pay for everything when he’d said he couldn’t afford it. Suddenly, in an instant, his past had flooded back, washing over him, drowning him in waves of humiliation and self-disgust. He couldn’t allow Gus to be one of those men, paying for his services. He just couldn’t.

And now he’d done as his mom had requested. He’d identified his instinct, figured out where it came from, all that was left was to explain it all to Gus and hope for the best.

TBC

#sharon raydor #andy flynn #shandy #Major Crimes #saying good-bye to yesterday #rusty beck #because sharon and andy should have had personal conversations

21 notes · View notes

royaljeongin · 6 years

Text

back2u

back2u (one shot)

pairing : taeyong x reader

genre: fluff, rivals!au, (ish) enemies to lovers!au, fake dating!au

word count: 3k words

summary: “i’m always coming back 2 u.” or when taeyong, your enemy and you go through fake dating while trying to not cut each other’s head.

a/n: dramatic twist at the end, it’s been literally a year since ive written so this is rusty.

your heart beat when the teacher announced your name. you got up from your seat to take the corrected exam. you snatched it away from the teacher a bit harshly but you uttered a light sorry before you paid attention to your copy.

your heart dropped when you saw your grade and was worried you couldn’t come first this time. you went back to your seat and the brown-haired boy next to you eagerly asked for your grade.

that was lee taeyong.

from as long as you can remember, you guys were always ennemies. a series of events turned both of you from best friends to enemies and rivals. it was either you or taeyong who ranked 1st. and both of you despised the idea of getting 2nd. he was able to have every girl’s heart at the snap of his fingers (except yours) maybe because of his outrageously good looks or maybe because of his likeable personality. either way, you didn’t see where his hype was coming from.

“i got 99 percent,” you silently muttered trying to not make eye contact.

“haha loser, i got 99.5 percent!” he proudly said with his annoying smirk. you rolled your eyes.

“fuck off!”

“maybe next time, you will be able to beat me, my dear,” he boasted before someone interrupted him. it was again one of the girls.

it’s been weeks since she’s been trying to get closer to taeyong and has been constantly pestering him. you looked at him, his eyes didn’t have the same sparkle as before; clear annoyance showed all over his face.

you then observed her, she was pretty but her whole aura felt off as she was glaring at you for no reason. you usually gave her a ‘are you serious?’ look as you thought she could do better but today, you thought that they were perfect for each other. two assholes always make a good couple.

school ended and you were in the study room like most students. it was past nine now and you were copying your notes you took that day. you heard footsteps approaching and then, the presence of a boy and you looked up.

“what are you doing here?”

“i just want to discuss something,” he declared while taking out the chair beside him to be able to be next to you. “date me.”

you spat your water on him. you were too shocked. in normal situation, he would’ve yelled at you but he really wanted this so he kept his composure.

“asshole! not real, just fake dating is enough.”

“why would i accept?” you questioned.

he said that the girls that were chasing him were annoying and he had enough. he thought that perhaps, having a girl would make them back off and leave him alone.

“what do i gain from this?”

he smirked while crossing his arms and now comfortably seated with his legs crossed. his eyes had fire burning with confidence.

“money.”

you rolled your eyes. he knew you way too well and you hated to admit it, but money was your weakness. you don’t believe that it brings people happiness but you sure knew that many of your problems surrounded around that. it didn’t seem that bad, accepting money from probably the richest boy at your school seemed very appealing.

“come on, i know you are having difficulties right now. i’ll help you with that. i’m only asking you for one month.”

you looked at his trainers, a pair of white sneakers with classic roses embroidered followed by the green and red stripes from gucci. you bit your lips. you weren’t particularly jealous per say, nevertheless you were curious how life would be when you had all of the money of the world.

“you fix my money problems and you buy me shoes. deal?”

he nodded his head. spending a couple thousands dollars for something beneficial wasn’t bothering him.

“sure bye, i’m going home. i already finished studying unlike you.” he playfully stuck his tongue out as he was leaving the room.

you were woken up by the repetitive sound of an alarm. irritated, you quickly reached your phone that was on the nightstand next to you to turn it off. you blinked once or twice before checking the time.

you sighed. today, you were dreading to go to school because of that goddamn oral. even though you practiced more than necessary, you couldn’t help but feel anxious. speaking to a crowd was definitely not your forté.

you finished getting ready as you take out a toasted bread with peanut butter spread on top. you zipped up your coat and carried your backpack. when you got out of the building, the harsh air hit your face.

“you think you’re in some kind of anime?”

you easily recognized this voice.

“fuck off, why are you here stalker.” it was an understatement to say that you were irritated, you liked being left alone in the morning.

“picking my girlfriend up so that we can go to school together dumbass.”

“how do you know where i live?”

“i used to go here all the time come on.”

your heart ached a little bit. he used to be your best friend when you were kids. hell, he was even your first kiss, back in eight grade, but when the whole school knew you were apparently a bad kisser, you hated him ever since. it hurt to admit it, but the moment held a special moment and he was a really good kisser. you wouldn’t have asked for anyone else to be your first kiss.

shocked was an understatement when the majority of your grade saw both of you this morning entering school while holding hands. the rivalry you both had was so legendary that no one would have ever imagined that taeyong and you would be dating.

“so you guys are really a thing now?” asked joohyun, your friend.

you wondered if you should tell the truth but you confirmed that you guys were indeed a thing. joohyun clearly didn’t buy it but you couldn’t explain further as the bell rang. you bid your goodbyes and joined your respective classes.

the red-haired boy was saving you the seat besides him. he really was going for it. you felt obliged to join him. classes started. as you were taking notes, you felt a poke on your shoulder. taeyong was giving you a note.

‘meet me at the bleachers during lunch. -ty’

“people aren’t buying it that we are dating,” you implored trying to start a conversation. he has been looking at you for the past ten minutes and hasn’t yet said anything.

he grinned.

“what kind of stupid idea you have again?”

he finally started speaking. “well there’s a reason why i wanted you at the field’s bleachers. there are always a ton people. guys practicing and girls watching them and hoping that they would get noticed by those douche.”

“as if you aren’t one of those douche,” you muttered under your breath.

“did you say something?” you shook your head in denial. you did not want to argue with him today.

“let’s make it believable then. let me kiss you.”

your eyes widened. it was a sudden proposition and kissing wasn’t part of the whole fake dating scheme.

“are you sure you want to do this?” you asked awkwardly.

“i don’t care.”

you took a deep breath as you nodded your head. he was leaning in and your heart was pounding. you hoped that he wouldn’t hear it. you closed your eyes while the temperature of your cheeks was raising. then you felt it. the plump lips on yours. it sure felt good. he even got better than the first time. he then pulled away. he had a smirk on his face as he felt everyone’s gaze even though you did see a slight blush but maybe your imagination was going crazy.

it wasn’t uncommon to see taeyong make out with someone at a party but kiss someone on school grounds?

that was unthinkable. you heard from others that he always ended up breaking people’s heart because ‘he didn’t do relationships.’ every girl thought that maybe they would be the one to change his attitude but it was you. the last girl he could possibly end up with.

as two weeks passed have passed, taeyong and you spent a lot of times together. you always studied together. even though insults were still thrown at each other, it felt a more playful now. you also went on two dates so that he could take pictures and post pics of you both on his instagram. you were even his lockscreen now and vice versa.

taeyong was holding your drinks right now. he always had the orginial milk tea with grass jelly, 80% sugar with 50% ice and you also had the original milk tea but with tapioca bubbles, 50% sugar with 50% ice.

you both sat down and you started drinking your bubble tea.

“y/n?”

“hm?”

“why haven’t you had any boyfriend since like forever.”

“i could ask the same question for you.”

“just answer please.”

you quietly thought before answering.

“i think it’s because i am scared of love. you know? feelings are scary. plus, nobody has asked me out anyways. and you? why haven’t you gotten any serious girlfriends?”

“you would laugh your ass off because my answer is the same as yours. except, people always ask me out.”

“how does it feel to be needed? isn’t it special?”

“i guess it was nice at first but they don’t really need you, they like the idea of you or the things you have. that’s way i broke up with my ex. i heard her and her friends say that they liked my money so yeah i am scared of commitment.”

taeyong had an ex, they were seriously dating for 8 months during junior year. he definitely had his heart crushed to small pieces but he got over it with hookups, always no strings attached.

it was now the fourth week, you didn’t talk to him. to be frank, you have been avoiding him, avoiding his eye contacts, his phone calls and his texts. at first, taeyong was wondering why but then, it seemed like he didn’t care anymore. you did all of that because you may have realized that you had feelings for him for a very long time and you were terribly scared.

it was one of those sleepless nights where students studied their asses off, trying to cram as much knowledge as possible. you still studied with taeyong but he is a lot more productive than you so he finished earlier. he even proposed to wait for you so that he could walk you home. you insisted that you didn’t need to because you didn’t want to waste his time and you aren’t ready to confront your feelings yet. he didn’t push it so he left. 20 minutes later, you were finished revising your aesthetically pleasing rewritten notes. you packed your back and turned off the lamp on your study table.

you were on your phone while leaving the room. someone bumped onto your shoulder, almost making your phone almost fall off but you caught it at the right time. you let out a sorry and bowed.

“it’s fine.”

you looked up as the sound of his voice was familiar. it was jung yoonoh more commonly known as jaehyun. he was one of your childhood best friends along with taeyong. they were both still friends but jaehyun and you had drifted away because of different interests. it didn’t take a long time before the long conversations only turned into hi in the hallway.

“oh hi jaehyun!”

“hello! how have you been?” he said smiling.

“i have been doing good, my grades are still good.”

“come on, i don’t care about your studies, i wanted to know more about you and taeyong! it seems both of you haven’t killed each other yet.”

you shrugged.

“i guess he isn’t that annoying,” you mumbled.

“taeyong seems to be quite fond of you.”

your heart skipped a beat, it always did when someone said his name.

“i guess he’s starting to fall for you!” he winked. he probably knew about the whole fake dating trope. they would know each other’s secrets without needing to say it.

“don’t lie.”

“i am not y/n, the way he always looked at you. i really don’t know how you guys became enemies overnight.”

“i don’t know he is irritating! i hate everything about him.” you indeed hated his insanely good looks. you hated his sharp jawline when he turned his head to the side. you hated the eyebrow slit that suit him so much. you hated the small scar besides his eye that made him even more special. you hated the way he playfully smiled at you during classes. you hated his habit of ruffling your hair while you were studying. you hated when he genuinely laughed at your dumb jokes because it clenched your heart knowing that all of your interactions were put up for an act.

“sure jan.”

you quickly bid goodbyes and left. the night streets felt extremely lonely. your hands were shaking from the extreme cold. on your way home, you felt a presence behind you, but you were terrified of seeing who was behind you. you were probably overreacting -that’s what you told yourself- but your gut feeling felt like something wasn’t quite right in the atmosphere.

then, someone grabbed your arm and put a hand on your mouth. making you unable to scream for help. you kicked his leg, the person winced in pain and let go of you. you ran but he quickly caught up as you weren’t exactly usain bolt. something hit your head and everything was black.

you woke up attached to a chair, duct tape on your mouth. there was an old table with a clock in front of you. too far to reach it but close enough to read the time.

“12:54am”

you felt relieved as your parents wouldn’t be worried because both of them have night shifts. you looked around and found yourself in a dirty huge and abandoned warehouse. plenty of bodyguards were there. it felt so surreal, like a movie. rich people really do live in another universe. a middle-aged man got closer to you to remove the duct tape.

“it’s no use to scream, there is no one.”

panicked, you asked him what did he want.

“i want a part of your boyfriend’s money.”

“he is not my boyfriend. he won’t come.” you tried coming off as confident but your voice was shaking.

“oh, he will my dear. you woke up at the right time, five minutes ago, i sent him a picture of you all tied up on this chair. i threatened him with you in exchange i will get money. what he doesn’t know yet is that he might be killed and he’s threatening to kill me but what can this boy do.”

“who the fuck are you?”

“let’s just say his parents made me go bankrupt, thank god i had leftover money in the black market but they made me lose everything. so i planned a revenge!”

you felt your phone ringing in your coat’s pocket. the man pulled it out and made you look who was calling you.

my soft taeyong

your eyes widened. “let me talk to him, i beg you!”

he put the call on speaker. you were desperately trying to free yourself from that chair.

“are you okay?” he sounded really worried.

“taeyong!” you screamed to him. “can you hear me? listen, please don’t come and save me.” you choked up your tears.

“just hold on y/n. i am coming whether you want it or not.”

“oh and y/n?”

“y-yeah?”

“i am gonna tell you when i come, please hold on there.”

“n-” and before you could even finish your sentence, the man hung up. you felt extremely stressed and were hoping that taeyong wouldn’t come. you did not want to lose him. not today.

a dozen of minutes passed. he was there. you couldn’t hold back your tears now. you couldn’t believe his dumb ass was standing at the entrance of the warehouse. the man smiled and taeyong was tense. you could tell that he was scared and yet confident.

the moment he was going to give the briefcase. the police siren could be heard clear and loudly. a swat team barged into the warehouse. it did not take long for the man and his crew to chicken out. the police cut the ropes and you ran towards taeyong.

you legs were now around his waist and your arms around his necks. your lips on his. it tasted sweet and salty from your tears and his honey lip balm. you were still shaking but you immediately found a sense of security while holding him.

when the kiss ended, you asked him.

“taeyong, what did you want to tell me?” the lights made his beautiful eyes shine.

“i love you y/n for the past i don’t know, ten years probably? i never understood why you hated me. i never did.”

“taeyong, you said i was a bad kisser and it was my first kiss and it was special for me. i don’t know, i hated you since then, probably because i felt like it didn’t mean shit to you.”

“it was my first kiss too and let me tell you, it was magical. since then, i always think of you and how i always come back to you. maybe that’s why i said that, i was afraid that you would actually like me, i am scared of love but now i don’t anymore. so let’s date, for real this time?”

you smiled and gave him a small peck. he whispered in your ears.

“come on, it’s 1:27 am, let’s go home.”

#taeyong #lee taeyong #nct #nct u #nct 127 #nct imagines #taeyong scenarios #taeyong imagines #taeyong x reader #taeyong x you #nct scenarios #nct oneshot #taeyong oneshot

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milquetoast-on-acid · 6 years

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I watched By Any Means (six months after it aired) so you don't have to.

Here's what happened...

This post is for you @xbleeple and all of the other Major Crimes fans that couldn't bring themselves to watching the series finale. I'm making this recap for you so that you don't have to waste your time watching. Even Sharon Raydor alive couldn’t save this terrible excuse of an ending. Along with a huge side of salt to keep you entertained.

Provenza threatens to kill Stroh about five times per episode. To anyone that will listen including Mason. Despite that Mason still lets Provenza and Co. chase the case until the bitter end. How's that for objectivity?

Stroh has a partner a Hacker, who is a British version of Rusty. Seriously this could be Graham P. Martin's twin in a look alike contest. When people told Duff that Rusty was annoying he said hold my beer: I've written you someone that is about a million times worse.

They end up setting up shop in Brenda's old house and spy on the MC squad via a virus they sent to their cell phones. British Rusty Hacker Boy spends the majority of the four episodes spying on the squad while making hilarious comments like he’s at the movies. And eating popcorn...I really wish I was kidding about that...

What’s a movie without popcorn?

Emma Rios reappears for the sole purpose of being killed by Stroh. And @blossom--of--snow wonderfully pointed out that Emma is killed in the exact same way as the victim in her very first case. Wow what a cool thing to kill another major female character (who i know hasn't been on the show in years but still) and have that death be just as needless.

Provenza realizes that only he can keep Rusty safe (spoiler alert no he can't) because Emma's guards fucked up and let her be killed in her own swimming pool. So he becomes Rusty's guard and that comes into play later.

The squad think that Stroh came back to kill everyone connected to him because he was dying. Turns out that was complete bullshit and Stroh only wanted money. His mother who had Alzheimers or Dementia. Which means that power of attorney for her fell to her step son and he decided to cut off Stroh's mega supply of money. So in the end, Stroh's main motivation to kill everyone who was ever involved with him is solely about money. Money that he could just as easily stolen from somewhere else. Also he had no real reason to actually kill any of these people except for his step brother who was the one to cut him off. Talk about being dumb and letting everyone on a trail straight to you!

The squad learns that Stroh was always a psycho and his mother helped him cover up his first murder. The squad hears about this from Mrs Stroh who has dementia or Alzheimer's (I really can't remember which) and suddenly remembers everything that happened in her past just long enough for them the hear about this. We learn more about Stroh's past than we do Sharon Raydor's. And her monolithic monologue descends into a campy flashback that rivals American Horror Story at it's worst.

The squad feels sorry for Stroh because his mom was the only person he trusted ended up betraying him in the end. Also it's the reason why he hates women so much is because his mom betrayed him. Even though her continued relationship with him destroyed her marriage. Even though she helped him cover up multiple murders. And even though she betrayed him years after his first murder (who was a girl he liked).

Stroh kills some people including his stepbrother (but not his mother) and his own partner's partner (who is a prostitute because Rusty parallels).

Threatens that Rusty is next but never actually comes after Rusty. I honestly don't think that he ever really intended to come after Rusty. Rusty has nothing to do with his money and that was his main motivation.

Rusty tracks down a Stroh lead because both Rusty and Ricky (who make breaks in their case) are better cops than the elite detectives who have had decades of experience under their belts. You know realism bro! Provenza chases the lead and lets Rusty and Gus go with him and of course it leads them to Stroh.

Provenza goes alone to visit Stroh on some boat behind the house, while Buzz calls in a dead body they find. Leaving Rusty and Gus all alone, unattended so that Stroh or anyone else can find them and kill them. Great protecting Provenza!

Rusty sneaks away onto the boat because no one is babysitting him. Meanwhile Provenza finds Stroh. He is suddenly overcome with some common sense and decides against killing him. But then common sense leaves him and his dumb ass throws his hand cuffs to Stroh so that Stroh will willingly handcuff himself.

You know instead of calling for reinforcements and just waiting it out with a gun trained on Stroh.

Suddenly Rusty pops out of nowhere from some hiding spot. Because he got that that area before Stroh and Provenza. Because he knew where Stroh would be before Stroh knew. He shoots Stroh five times with no provocation what so ever. There is zero conversation between Rusty and Stroh. The reason why Rusty killed Stroh? Because he doesn't want anyone to know he was a prostitute.

Provenza does the 'right' thing (just like Stroh's mother did for him) and pretends that he shot Stroh. Even though Stroh was not killed with Provenza's gun. Even though Rusty has GSR on his hands and Provenza doesn't. Even though Provenza is a buck shot and would kill him with one bullet. Remember that Provenza killed Wade Weller from a few hundred feet away from him right between the fucking eyes. Oh and hey it's all okay because it turns out that Stroh had a knife in his boot. Because justification.

I.A. clears Provenza (no way in hell). Everyone *wink wink nod nod's* to Rusty that they know he was the one who killed Stroh and they are all totally cool with it. From Fritz to Julio. Totally cool you killed someone today, we're proud of you! Keep up that good work!

Andy is the only one who didn't pick up on Rusty having killed Stroh. And no one tells him that his step son is a killer. Maybe one day Andy will be killed by Rusty. I don't know what is worse. Living with a person that you don't know is a killer who may one day snap from trauma like that because shit like that doesn't leave a person. Or knowing that you couldn't keep your wife's son save from himself. Even though her last dying wish was for her kids to be taken care of.

Now time for everyone's happy endings. Provenza starts his tenure as (Lieutenant) in charge of Major Crimes as a criminal. You know trying to keep the world safe from all of those pesky criminals. Rusty starts his law career as a killer. He really made sure to make Sharon proud of him for being an adult who takes responsibility for his own actions.

Rusty and Gus get back together after Gus heedlessly harassing Rusty who wants nothing to do with him romantically. There is zero resolution (no conversation of a reconciliation or forgiveness) in their relationship. I mean hey, Gus as a cheater isn't that bad when you compare him with Rusty who is a killer. Also Andy is totally cool with them sleeping together, Gus asked him. And hey, their relationship is totally not toxic or anything. And they aren't bound to breakup about five times before they die but hey what is true love but dis-functionality?

Julio left them all behind for another squad because he doesn't want Mark to grow up without a father. Buzz became a real cop, but not because it was what he wanted. But because it's what Provenza said so. Wes and Cami are maybe a couple. Amy is as disgusted as I am about them in the deleted scene. Where they flirt over comparing serial killers to cereal. That leaves me scratching my head with: WTF happened to the writing?

Mike, Amy and Andrea got forgotten about and had no ending. Andy became the angry bitter widdower that Julio was and even takes over his desk because being right next to where his wife died is just too fucking painful. Oh and Ricky is actually Sharon's first born not Emily, Sharon said so.

Not to mention that Sharon was replaced by a vase of roses that everyone stares at.

The End.

#major crimes #here's what happened #sharon raydor #andy flynn #rusty beck #gus wallace #provenza #buzz #julio #amy sykes #mike tao #mark jarvis #rusty and gus #sharon and andy #shandy

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marie-dufresne · 6 years

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Up From the Gutter

Though most of my RPs are from The Dufresne Legacy, we can’t forget gutter!Marie because she’s just as important :)

Cut for length so as not to clog up your feed too badly.

Six.

Marie Dufresne had always been a tactile girl, lucky to have parents that never said ‘don’t touch’. Claire and Arthur figured it was best she learned the hard way. Or maybe it was just that they were too lazy to properly parent.

Marie Dufresne was also an affectionate girl, latching on to anyone who showed her any sort of attention which, oddly enough, never seemed to be Arthur or Claire.

This did not deter her efforts, particularly when Claire was in a state of inebriation, or sick from a prior state of inebriation, and as she draped a blanket over her mother’s half sleeping form, Marie pulled on all the sides, making sure she was properly covered from shoulders to toes. When she was certain the woman would be able to nap properly, Marie knelt on the floor, resting her chin on her arms.

“Do you want me to cuddle you, Mama?”

Claire’s brow wrinkled and her mouth turned down in disgust, a hand coming out from the blanket to push her daughter away.

“That’s not what you’re here for,” she muttered, gripping the fabric around her and flipping over to the side, giving Marie her back.

“If you want cuddles, go find a boy.”

Eight.

“Claire cut the shit. Your kid’s right there.”

Marie looked up from the bar top and the ragged deck of cards she’d been practicing her solitaire skills with. She was the only child at the bar, (she always was) and at Nate’s scolding, her attention was drawn to the other end of the counter where her mother had helped herself to the lap of a young man in a motorcycle jacket.

Drunk and without care, Claire Dufresne also ignored the bartender’s reminder that she was married. The man whose attention she’d captured didn’t seem to care either, pulling down the neck of her camisole with a devilish grin and Marie went back to her game.

Another boyfriend? She sighed, flipping over a card to reveal nothing more than a dead end and she gathered them all up, shuffling them primitively by mixing them on the bar, not yet having mastered the proper technique.

“You should head on home, kiddo.”

Grey eyes rose to the weary concern of the older man’s face and Marie shook her head, her untamed mess of hair not moving as it should, matted and knotted to oblivion.

“My dad came back,” she told him softly, “he’s got a bunch of friends there now.”

Being at the bar with her drunkard flirt of a mother was infinitely better than her father and his crew. He didn’t ever stay long, always onto his next scheme or the latest pair of breasts that passed him by. Anyone was better than his wife, really.

Marie herself didn’t yet understand the intricacies of adult relationships, but she knew there were kids at school who had divorced parents. If hers hated each other so much, why didn’t they divorce?

With a curious glance down at the little girl, Nate filled up a glass of juice, setting it down before her. He wasn’t one to meddle in all the business he heard, but damn his heart went out to this kid.

“Your old man,” he asked, “he doesn’t…he ain’t touchin’ you is he?”

Marie’s brow furrowed. It wasn’t the first time someone had asked her this. It wasn’t the second time either but she shook her head.

“Only when he whacks me,” she told him factually, “but not where I think you think he does. They just watch.”

Watch? Watch what? But Nate was not one to meddle in the business he heard, so he didn’t ask, and he didn’t mention it again.

Maybe he should have.

Ten.

Motorcycle Jacket came and went just as much as Arthur did. There were always men in between and no matter where Claire uprooted them from and dropped into, he found her. He called himself Leo for no reason other than it was his star sign, and made it no secret he didn’t like baggage.

Marie was baggage.

“Come on,” he whined, plopping down on the couch amidst several crinkled beer cans, shoving them off to the side and onto a pink zebra striped blanket, “go to your room or something. Your mother and I have grown up shit to do.”

“I don’t have a room,” Marie pointed out, giving a flourishing gesture to the apartment they were squatting in, the tenant and landlord both at an extended stay in prison.

“Then go,” Leo pressed, fitting a cigarette between his lips and lighting it, “wherever the fuck it is you sleep.”

Her hair was short now, chopped off from its lack of care and she could not flip it over her shoulder like her attitude cried out for her to do so instead, she put her hand on her hip, shifting her weight in a manner she’d seen on television.

“I sleep on the couch,” she said, “that’s my blanket.”

With an annoyed grunt, the dark haired man pulled the blanket up and balled it, throwing it at her.

“There you go, Princess. Find a spot.”

She slept in the stairwell that night.

Twelve.

“I want you on birth control.”

Marie jumped at the voice, shoving the weekly newspaper ads—and her clippings—under the recliner, away from her mother’s eyes.

“Why?” she asked, “I’m not like you.”

“You,” Claire snorted, dropping herself onto the couch and reaching for her cigarettes, “are exactly like me. Probably why I can’t stand you.”

The blatant stating that she was disliked did not hurt anymore. It was almost a game to her at this point. Mom can’t stand me. Haha, we’re so close it’s our joke, right?

Right?

“I’m not having sex,” Marie told her truthfully, pulling her elastic headband down to her neck to fluff out her hair, steadily growing and better kept now that she was old enough to know how, “I’m not ready. Besides I…”

She didn’t bother to finish, her cheeks red at the idea of discussing getting her period with someone like Claire.

“Sure not ready now,” her mother offered, “but what about in a month? Six months? You can’t afford a fuckin’ abortion, Honeybutter and you’ll end up just like me.”

She leaned forward to flick some ash onto the carpet by Marie’s knees and swiped at the neckline of her peasant blouse, peering down at her developing chest.

“Those boys will be stuffing you like a Thanksgiving turkey so believe me, the pill will be the best thing to happen to you.”

Pushing away the invasive hand, Marie pulled out her advertisements and clutched them to her chest along with the rusty pair of scissors she’d been using, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“I am not like you.”

Fourteen.

Marie politely declined the cigarette that was handed to her, sliding off the bed in search of her skirt.

“Looks like I paid up,” she said grinning as she took her time bending over, continuing the show for the young man on the bed, “your turn.”

“My turn,” he muttered, taking a drag and leaning back, “babe I just emptied my balls, let me breathe.”

But Marie did not want to ‘let him breathe’. She was in a precarious enough position as it was, having lied to him about her age to sleep with him. The longer she stayed, the easier it might be to give herself away and with a violent man nearing thirty, hearing he’d been fucking a high school freshman for the past three weeks was unlikely to go over well.

“Pleeeasseee,” she begged, flopping onto the bed and shining a sunny smile up at him, her pink lipstick and thick lashes sucking him into everything she wanted.

Almost everything.

“Fine, fine fine,” he conceded, “you fucking junkie, take your damn dope.”

She did not feel satisfied when she left; she never did, but with the drugs nestled safely in her bra, she wondered if Claire would hate her a little bit less. After all, Marie was doing this for her.

Fifteen

Billy wasn’t Marie’s father, but she wished he was.

His name wasn’t even William, it was Wilford, but Billy thought Wilford was an old man’s name and seeing as he was not yet old, he opted not to use it.

By this time Marie did understand a great deal of the intricacies of human relationships and though at first she couldn’t quite figure out what this man saw in Claire, after a while it became clear.

He was a fixer.

There was no fixing her mother, but Marie didn’t make note of this when Billy moved the two of them into his modest apartment. He gave Marie her own bedroom and when the two of them journeyed to the hardware store to pick out paint, he did not look at her like so many of the other boyfriends did. He asked about her interests and did not make any snide comments about having to paint the room pink.

He bought a waffle iron and taught her how to cook a little bit.

He attended open house night at her school, and signed up for a routine parent-teacher conference.

When Claire beat on him, he rode it out, waiting, and never fighting back. In confidence he told Marie her mother was like an abandoned animal that just needed the right amount of love and patience. He suggested therapy when Marie confided in him about the things Claire had done and said all the years prior, but she refused.

Billy was a good one. He was the only one Marie cared to remember, but it was Marie herself who destroyed it all.

“He’s basically my dad,” she’d said. An offhanded comment while she poured the waffle batter into the iron, stocking up to freeze for the week’s breakfast (and some to-go for quick bites at school).

There were police at the house when she arrived later that afternoon. There were questions and then there was court.

Nobody listened when she cried.

In the one time the justice system seemed to benefit the victim, an innocent man was imprisoned, for a grown man’s semen on a fifteen year old’s panties spoke louder than Marie’s protests that he’d never touched her.

He hadn’t.

After the verdict, Claire called her a jealous slut and moved them away. A slut Marie may have become, but it was Claire who was jealous.

Viper.

Seventeen

Partway through her senior year, Marie sat in her guidance counselor’s office, announcing to him that she was dropping out.

She’d already told her English teacher and the previous year’s Math teacher. Those two weren’t requirements for leaving, of course, but her situation was a precarious one and she wasn’t taking any risks. The Math teacher didn’t seem threatened by her, but there was a fat check sitting in the bottom of her backpack from the young scholar just at the beginning of his career.

“Sorry Billy,” Marie muttered, adjusting her bag on her shoulder and looking back at the school. He’d asked her to finish school, to be better than her mother, but she couldn’t do it. Instead, she’d repeated the cycle.

Sex too early, sex for currency, sex for shelter, baby at seventeen.

Marie, however, had not married the man who knocked her up. Truthfully she didn’t know who it was that was responsible for the little nugget in her womb, but at seventeen, she’d decided that blackmail was a better option than marriage.

If generally-harmless-yet-easily-seduced Mr. Stevenson wanted to keep on his career path, he’d just have to support her until she could get on her own feet. It was a fair trade, really.

Marie Stevenson was a horrible name anyway.

Twenty-Two

In a quaint apartment above a tattoo parlor, Marie sat at her chic, remodeled white desk, glittery pen poised over her checkbook. A couple walked their pug below, people milled about a cafe a few units down.

It was nothing like the places she’d grown up in. It wasn’t a coveted area of town; it was far too old, but it was clean and safe, the sort of place people like her flocked to to get the best shot for their social media feed.

This was particularly convenient for her as that was exactly how she made a large portion of her living. A rent-a-gramer if you would. For a handsome fee, basic bitches from all over the country could hire her for the day and get all the best photographs at the must-have spots, and even some only locals like Marie would know about.

She didn’t have any children; she’d lost her baby early on in her pregnancy, but had never told Mr. Stevenson, promising herself that though she’d dropped out of school, she’d make it up to Billy, the only person who had believed in her, using the checks to fund herself in the building of her own career.

As per their verbal agreement, after five years the checks had ceased, but she didn’t mind. She was on her feet, and while Marie had, without a doubt, engaged in many criminal activities, she did not like to consider herself a bad person, and intended to pay back every cent she had stolen from her high school English teacher.

One check at a time.

#About Marie #Up From the Gutter

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ruleandruinrpg · 7 years

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CONGRATULATIONS, GLORIA!

You have been accepted for the role of SVETLANA GAVRIKOVA. Admin Bree: I knew when I first wrote her that Svetlana, with all her ruthlessness and fanaticism and ambition, would be a tough nut to crack, but Gloria, you handled her with ease. From the “what drew you” section to your headcanons and extras, you brought her to life in ways even I hadn’t imagined, and I knew, when I finished reading, that there was simply no other decision to make. Your para sample was chilling, and I hope it sets a precedent for what we can expect from you and Svetlana on the dash. Well done! You have 24 HOURS to send in your account. Also, remember to look at the CHECKLIST. Welcome to Ravka!

OUT OF CHARACTER

ALIAS: Gloria

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: She/her

AGE: 21

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: With summer here I have a lot more free time I can dedicate to roleplaying, but I will obviously get busy from time to time. I can promise to pop online and do my replies every second day at least. On a scale from 1 to 10, I would say a solid 7.

CURRENT/PAST ACCOUNTS: I have several, but here’s an example X.

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER: Svetlana Gavrikova

Svetlana ( Светлана ) ↳ Russian ↳ light, world

Svetlana for all the light in the world, soft and sweet, represents everything her parents ever wanted her to be. See, they didn’t want their little girl to have to suffer from need for anything, for jealousy and wrath to bloom in her heart – and they didn’t know until it was too late. How could they? Svetlana was kind to them, always, until the last second they laid eyes on her. She saw how hard her father was trying to give everything to her and how her mother turned the littlest to the most, she saw them and loved them even though they could never understand her. She could not disappoint them by reveling her poisonous mind, could she? She did not want them to know that the wolf inside her swallowed the lamb, they saw her as, in whole.

Yalena ( Елена )

↳ Russian ↳ torch, corposant

Yalenka, ptichka, my little bird, her parents used to call her. She remembers, or rather, has these faint, spiderweb-like shreds of memories about the way she was before. Before the war. Before the ruination. Before her mouth was full of sharp teeth, hungry for destruction, hungry for blood and flesh and death. She remembers her pretty, pretty dresses, adorning her slender figure as she ran through fields of flower and tall grass. She remembers how her heart filled up with joy at the smell of daisies and freshly baked bread and new books. And she remembers, the faintest of them all, so very distantly as if it wasn’t even her, the forgiving, kind nature of her being. It is strange, truly, she thinks, how she doesn’t recognizes herself in those memories. Not her voice, not her words, not even her own face.

Gavrikova ( Гаврикова ) ↳ Russian ↳ spiritual, intuition

They came from long generations of merchants, spreading out around the whole of Ravka. A big family, strong and proud and influential in their own way. She’s been told she has so many cousins around Ravka and even on the other side of all the borders, she couldn’t even count them. Their name was known, perhaps not to nobility or royalty, but to the people depending on their cargo and those living on their lands. And yet, when Svetlana was taken to join the First Army, there was nothing to be done, no begging, no amount of silver and gold could prevent them from pushing her towards the front line of the war. She didn’t mind, even then, there was already something blooming in the deepest, most hidden corners of her heart. A thirst for something new, the unknown terrors of bloodshed, everything her parents tried to protect her from, in the past sixteen years, so desperately. Now, when someone hears the name Gavrikova, they do not think of merchants. They think of a woman with hair like flame and claws of iron, a woman with a heart made of ash and thunder and ruination.

WHAT DREW YOU TO THIS CHARACTER?

Oh my gosh, from the second I read her teaser, I was in love. She was something I’ve been looking for in a female character for quite some time now, always wanted to experience someone who’s untouched by feminine machinations and breaks through the burdens in front of her like a bull. She makes me excited, proud and sad at the same time because even though her story cannot be called stereotypically tragic, I can see the girl she once was being so foreign, so distant to who she is today. Loosing herself ( or perhaps finding her true self ) carries a kind of beautiful tragedy. To me, Svetlana is the embodiment of a storm and I don’t want her to die down, to be tamed, ever. If she has to go one day though, I want her to leave unimaginable destruction after herself, I want her name to sound like a curse for years and years after she’s gone, I want her to be remembered as chaos itself.

Her brash hunger for ambition, her untamed thirst for the blood of her enemies, the way she does not want to limit herself in any way, nor does she let herself be held back by anything or anyone. She is the kind of character I would usually be interested in, I’ve always liked strong females that have straight goals and aspirations, who know what they want and have fire in their personalities. Svetlana is especially unique in to me because she doesn’t handle things in a stereotypical feminine way, she doesn’t try to manipulate people, to charm her way into others hearts and get her way like that. She is strong and fierce and she has no interest in pleasing people with her behavior, she simply doesn’t care how others perceive her (unless it comes to the Darkling’s approval, of course). I love Svetlana because she has so much possibilities and yet sometimes the way she sees things could be the biggest burden in her way. I want to give her the chance to see that clawing her own, violent way to the top might not be the only one, or that perhaps it’s not even what her heart really yearns for. A girl made of fire and lightening and everything frightening, she still has weaknesses, weaknesses that could be her downfall so very easily, no matter how much she believes she is invincible. She needs to face those weaknesses, accept them and battle her own self to be able to conquer the world the way she desires.

WHAT FUTURE PLOT IDEAS DID YOU HAVE IN MIND?

carnal flower / bloody rose: I want to see her interact with the Darkling, for sure. She is not blind, she can see his obvious ignorance towards her achievements and it not only angers her but motivates her to do more. She is going to prove it to him that she’s exceptional in every way he can imagine and she doesn’t care that he thinks he’s seen hundreds of her kind before and will see hundreds after her. There is only one Svetlana Gavrikova and she will make him see, make him understand. He doesn’t scare her, not really, he makes her burn inside with this dark desire for approval, for recognition, the thought of him makes the beast in her scream and claw at her inside manically. She will show him, she will and when she does, he’ll understand why they all fear her.

three mile island / one way road: I cannot wait to see the dynamic between Svetlana, Adrik and Fyodor. They seem like such an interesting trio with their hunger for destruction, their devotion to the Darkling and the way nobody can stand in their way. I am entirely fascinated by Svetlana’s relationship to them both separately and the three of them together as well and I know that no matter what, they will raise hell in the most exquisite way. I want to see them go on missions for the Darkling, I want to see them interact in a casual setting, see them training together or just simply watch their story unfold side by side.

you smell like love / taste like ash: There is a kind of hatred in her heart towards the Sun Summoner she didn’t know she was capable of feeling anymore. It’s not only fed by the jealous rage for occupying all of her sovereign’s attention, but there is something in her … something she cannot quite put a finger on, something that drives her up the wall like nothing else. Perhaps, Svetlana thinks, there is a part of her, a part long lost and forgotten that is awoken by Gemma, a part untainted by death and dust and ruination, a part she thought she’s lost the second she first slit a man’s throat. She does not miss that part of her and she does not want to be reminded of it’s existence. I want to see her punish Gemma for something she thinks she caused, to see her with bloody eyes and a foaming mouth at the height of her very worst.

WOULD YOU BE WILLING TO HAVE YOUR CHARACTER DIE?: Absolutely, if the plot requires it I am all in to give a twist to things by saying goodbye to her.

IN DEPTH

IN CHARACTER PARA SAMPLE(S):

tw: gore

This is the closest she’ll ever get to being in love. She looks down at her fingers, tainted by the sticky, warm, crimson life force of the corpse she’s still sitting on. Mesmerized, still so endlessly fascinated.

This is the closest she’ll ever get to being in love, she thinks, this feeling, this thrill that presses the air out of her lungs, this excitement that makes her heart beat fast like she’s been running. She won’t find anything else completing her this way, like two parts of a puzzle, fitting together so precisely, so perfectly. Her eyes close for a moment only and a sigh of pure ecstasy falls past her brims as pale digits dig into the still fresh wound. She feels the flesh under her fingertips, the artery still filled with blood and for a fickle moment she thinks there is pulse too. Mesmerized.

This is the closest she’ll ever get to being in love. She raises her hand to her mouth, eyes still shut close, brims open hesitantly and she’s tasting it. Warm and rusty and full. It tastes like victory, tastes like power.

This is the closest she’ll ever get to being in love. She stands up, long hair falling onto her shoulders as she walks to her horse, she can feel eyes on following her every move. Tries to imagine how she might look, with blood smeared across her face, a rare, content smile taking over her countenance.

This is the closest she’ll ever get to being in love. And no one will ever understand.

ll.

She remembers the first time she saw him. Tall and dark and intimidating. Tall and dark and intimidating and so, so deliciously unknown. He moved as a shadow among the others and Svetlana watched him with wary eyes for years. She’s watched him move around the king and queen like he was above them, but in a way it was only visible to the most perceptive eyes. She’s watched him be feared and admired by the Grisha and the people of Ravka equally. She’s watched him from far for so long, the first time she’s been right in front of him, for a mere second only, but she thought she already knew him.

And then he raised those cold, dark eyes at her and she knew, she was wrong. She didn’t know him, she never will. But he knows her. He knows the deepest, darkest corners of her mind like it was his own. She felt stripped from all her secrets, all her pride, left naked in her most vulnerable. It was only a second, that’s all he’s given her of his time, but Svetlana felt as he’s taken a part of her with him. A part he hasn’t given back still. A part she feels she needs to earn back.

Pale digits press into the arm of the girl, Sun Summoner, they say, fingertips leaving a mark after themselves. She leads her through the hallways of the Little Palace, expression unreadable but there is pride shining in her eyes. They enter the oval shaped room and there he is, sitting in his mahogany chair. Tall and dark and intimidating. And Svetlana waits, waits for him to look at her, for one second only, to give her back that missing part. He doesn’t. All his attention is focused on the the pale femme beside her.

She’s angry. She could scream. She could kill. She wants to kill. Kill her, kill him, kill them all. Is this how jealousy feels like then? Is this the poison she’ll end up choking on?

CHARACTER HEADCANONS:

When she was seven, she accidentally cut her thigh with a butcher knife. It left a long scar from her left knee to the middle of her thigh and although she’s gotten a significant number of other scars through her service in the First Army and as an Opricniki, it is her favorite to this day. When she’s frustrated and alone, she often runs the tips of her fingers over the silky skin of the now healed wound.

Although she’s stripped herself off of most believed signifiers of feminity, she wears her crimson red lipstick like war paint. It has a dramatic effect with her porcelain skin, fire hair and charcoal Oprechniki uniform. She’s been called beautiful before as she crosses the dimly lit hallways of the Little Palace, but she’s been called terrifying so much more.

She much prefers using knifes or her bare hands, when it comes to battle, to guns. It’s more personal, the way the blade plunges into another’s flesh, the way she can feel it under her fingertips: heartbeat slow, slow, slow down until it’s no more.

Svetlana usually sleeps on her side or on her stomach with one hand under the pillow, fingers wrapped around a knife. She likes having a lot of pillows in her bed, she’s been told that as a child she always fell asleep arranging them in some kind of order only known to her. She is also a very light sleeper, always on alert, always ready to protect herself from whatever danger.

She doesn’t mind the taste of blood, be it her own or someone else’s. Of course, she will not go around sinking her teeth into people, but during battle it often happens she gets hit on the face and her lips start bleeding or perhaps an opponent’s life force finds it’s way into her mouth.

Her favorite fruit is pomegranate. She used to read a lot about Greek mythology and the story of Persephone and Hades has always been oddly endearing to her, the whole concept all so poetic and beautiful.

You could call her a health craze in a way, she is practically obsessed with her physical health, except when it comes to smoking. She is obviously in shape as it is required of her, she trains almost every moment of her free time and stays away from everything that could be bad for her body.

It might be strange, but Svetlana loves flowers, red ones in particular, roses and tulips and poppies.

Svetlana enjoys physical pain to a certain point, it gives her a kind of thrill she cannot even experience when taking another life either. It reminds her of her own mortality, it fills her lungs with fire and excitement. She would never hurt herself on purpose, it is not her style, but she definitely doesn’t mind getting a wound or two during battles.

She finds fountains strangely beautiful, they calm her down. There is something in the soft sound of water paddling and the precise little statues that mesmerize her.

Svetlana knew she was interested in human anatomy ever since her brother’s gruesome accident. The blood and flesh and guts never intimidated her, she’s always wanted to learn how everything worked. Perhaps, in another life, when her hunger for ruination was less prominent, she would have been a healer of some kind.

She has no love for the Grisha and yet ever since she was chosen as one of the Darkling’s private guard, she has a new found fascination with them. She doesn’t go unnecessarily close, doesn’t interact with them if she doesn’t have to but she is perceptive and she learns more and more about them every day.

EXTRAS: Here’s the Pinterest board I made for her: X

PERSONALITY:

‘ She was born of fire, of unhampered desire; strong as stone. She’s as lovely as the ash that coats the devils tongue ’

USUAL MOOD: Svetlana seems unapproachable at all times. Svetlana is unapproachable at all times. It often seems as if it is impossible to catch her in the right time, she can be seen in the midst of sharing private jokes with Adrik or Fyodor one moment and the next she is pure ice, cutting into everyone that dares to disturb her. There are woman you could feel the coldness of a corpse coming off of them, there is nothing and no one that can reach deep and hard enough to touch her. She doesn’t take offense very easily but does not allow people to speak to her disrespectfully, to Svetlana, it’s a matter of demanding the rightful treatment attached to her title. She is temperamental and unpredictable and it’s almost impossible to read her mood –– although it’s safe to guess she won’t be all sunshine and smiles no matter when you try to interact with her.

CLOTHING STYLE: She remembers especially enjoying the color peach once and those flimsy, soft materials her dresses and gloves were made of. They were nothing compared to what the nobility in Os Alta wears, but they were exquisite among the ragged clothes of peasants and soldiers. Now, she wears the charcoal uniform of the Oprichniki with more pride than anything else. She earned her place among them, she was picked from hundreds of thousands of soldiers, she was chosen and she won’t let anyone forget it even for a second.

HABITS: lip biting, gritting teeth, running fingers through hair, clicking tongue, frowning

POSTURE: Always straight, confident and demanding respect, she’s been compared to a cheetah both in the way she moves and the way she fights. She is a good soldier, disciplined and strong and the way she carries herself represents all they fear her for. Svetlana stands, sits and walks in an impeccable manner, it’s something he didn’t have to learn or try hard to achieve, it comes naturally to her.

VOICE: Her voice is a bit deeper than people expect it to be from looking at her. It gets a bit raspy in the early mornings ( most likely a side effect of all the cigarettes she is so fond of smoking ) but that disappears once she shakes off sleep. Her words always have an edge to them, she doesn’t necessarily have to raise her voice for that –– and although she does not back off from a loud argument, those turn physical with her rather quickly..

SOCIAL SKILLS: Generally speaking, she could be probably good with people, but again, she doesn’t like or care for most of them very much, if at all. She is exceptional in finding people’s weak spots, is incredibly observing, but generally, she is not very good in social situations. She knows how to be civil and how to sell herself, of course, but it doesn’t mean she is on the top of her game all the time. Comforting someone, making them feel better about something seems almost impossible to Svetlana, if she tries, she usually only makes it worse and so she tries to avoid situations where her empathy ( or the lack of it, rather ) is being put to work. She doesn’t care for being liked, only recognized for her achievements and so she finds no reason to try and be on her best behavior.

FAMILY:

FATHER: Vladim Gavrikova ( 58 ) –– She remembers watching him, saying goodbye to him every morning before he sat up on his carriage, leaving to go to the fair or visit nearby cities to sell their merchandise or occasionally get together for some kvas with other merchants and village people. He’s always treated her so kindly, so gently, like she was the softest of flower petals of the most beautiful rose in the garden. Sometimes, rarely when she thinks of him, Svetlana believes the devotion her father had towards her, towards giving her everything she could possibly need, would still impress her. But then she remembers, if her father knew her now, if he saw that her Yalenka, ptichka, his little bird is the most dangerous of all the predators, perhaps he would be repulsed by her.

MOTHER: Olesya Gavrikova ( 55 ) –– Her mother was kind too, but differently. In a hesitant way, kind yet always kept an arm lengthy distance between them. As a child, it was hard for Svetlana to understand, to wrap her mind around why her mother didn’t tuck her to bed every night with tears of love in her eyes or why she with warily, like she was afraid she could disappear any moment. Did she hate her because it wasn’t her dying instead of Pyotr? Was she blaming her? No, Svetlana realized later one, she was just broken. Broken by the loss of her son, by the possibility of loosing her daughter too. And so when she was taken to the First Army, the last thing she remembers of her childhood home, the picture still lives vividly in her mind, even after ten years, her mother was on her knees. She didn’t cry, but her mouth opened up in horror, the kind of horror Svetlana never saw again, no matter how much cruelty she saw or cause. Her mother face said “here it is, here goes another part of my soul”.

SIBLING(S): Pyotr Gavrikova ( deceased ) –– They were born seven minutes apart, together from the moment they opened their eyes for the very first time, Their relationship was just like every other sibling relationship, they bickered and fought and made up and were there for each other, always. And yet when he fell, fell under the carriage at the summer fair in the village, Svetlana didn’t feel as if she’s lost a part of herself. She watched his skull crack open under the pressure of the wheel of the carriage, blood, blood, blood and brain and all she felt was fascination. Perhaps that was the first time she knew, knew she was different somehow. That’s when they started whispering behind her back “cold girl, doesn’t even mourn the loss of her brother”. But she did mourn, on her own, strange way, she did. Not with tears and sadness like her parents, not with forcing loneliness on herself, but my remembering him. Remembering him every waking moment of her life, remembering right until one day she didn’t anymore.

OTHER(S): N/A

PET(S): Svetlana is currently not capable for taking responsibility for another living creature.

PHYSICAL TRAITS

EYE COLOUR: baby blue

HAIR COLOUR: red

HEIGHT: 5"10’

BODY BUILD: slender, lean, athletic

GLASSES/CONTACTS: N/A

TATTOOS + PIERCINGS: N/A

NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: Her red hair and charcoal uniform.

PERSONALITY

STAR SIGN: aries

TEMPERAMENT: choleric

VIRTUES: persistent, resourceful, ambitious, rational, adaptive, loyal, perceptive

VICES: bloody thirsty, easily bored, moody, vengeful, cruel, impatient, temperamental

ALIGNMENT: lawful evil

birthdate:

April 5th

She came into the world with a head full of crimson hair and a scream that let the whole neighborhood know that indeed, Svetlana Gavrikova was born. Her mother always told her that giving birth to her was surprisingly easy, much easier than she though but she was scared, terrified of what would happen. See, Olesya was tired, so tired after giving birth to her brother only minutes ago and she thought exhaustion will take her before she can deliver the second child. But then she saw it, the little face of her baby boy, the desperate crying of his voice and she loved him. She loved him more than she though she could love anything in the world and then she knew she has to fight for that other child, still in her belly, struggling for life. So she pushed and screamed in pain and there Svetlana was. They wanted their children to be healthy and perfect. And she was. She was.

The most significant Aries traits in Calla’s personality:

+ passionate + independent + determined

- impatient - impatient - opinionated

gender identity & pronouns — Svetlana identifies as cis female and it’s not something that occupies her mind too much. The thought of being viewed as an object or weak, to be treated with less respect just because of her gender makes her terribly angry. If anything, women are the future and she intends to show that to the whole world and every single person who tried to shut her up about it. Perhaps if she was born in a different age when girls were generally viewed more equal, she would be lacking some aspects of her brash personality. She had to work twice as hard to show them all how capable she was. Capable to be in the First Army, capable to be a warrior, capable to be chosen among the best.

sexuality & romantic preference — Sex and romance takes up very minimal place among her interests, therefor she identifies as asexual. She views it as such a small, insignificant part of life, a distraction, nothing but a burden between her and her goals. The whole concept of love itself seems too mundane, too simple to her to take a real interest in it. Of course, from time to time, she does take interest in someone in her own, strange way but it’s always short lived and brutal. Svetlana doesn’t exactly have a preference, she simply appreciates beauty. The problem with any kind of yearning for another awakening in her is that she despises rejection. She appreciates beauty, she does but her thirst to taint it, to destroy it is much stronger. She will leave you behind shattered and ruined, no matter if you agreed to play her game or not.

Some quotes that remind me of Svetlana:

“I’d call her a storm, or tornado, but they are destruction without purpose. Her? She look’ll you in the eye as she tears you open, just to see how much you’ll bleed.“

“She was born of fire, of unhampered desire; strong as stone. She’s as lovely as the ash that coats the devils tongue.”

“She was ice cold to the bone, but I swear, she burned like rum on fire.”

“I love death. I love the way it buzzes in my ear; the way it sends love letters to my ribs. I love the beckon, the chase. The destruction of frailty, a splice of honey-bone. Death teases me with divine morbidity. And do i answer?“

“Her sincerity was so bruising that people sometimes confused it with eccentricity. She always—but always—did what she wanted, and when she wanted. Without asking anyone for permission. It was a strong feature of her character.”

“She wanted a storm to match her rage.“

“You think I’m not a goddess? Try me. This is a torch song. Touch me and you’ll burn.”

“She lifts a wand of mascara, leans into the mirror, weaves threads of liquid onyx between her thick eyelashes.she sets it down, selects a brush, and her cheekbones glow sharp after. Has she used highlight, or dusted them in mercury? She uncaps her lipstick, stains her lips sanguine, and blows a kiss. Rose petaled, ruby-red, coated in bold vermillion; blood that has dried.”

“She’s a mess of gorgeous chaos and you can see it in her eyes.“

“Maybe some women aren’t meant to be tamed. Maybe they just need to run free until they find someone just as wild to run with them.”

“She’s the girl ablaze; her kiss burns like whiskey, her touch trails fire, her eyes burn brighter than city light. She’s the girl ablaze; who flames like the sun, the moon and stars. She will ignite.”

“How fine you look when dressed in rage.”

“Girl has a matchstick mouth. / Girl with wounds burning loud & easy through her. / Girl says the ache is gone, then breaks mother’s chinaware. / Girl wanted to see other things fall apart, too.”

“She was not soft. She smelled like cigarettes, leather, and ground black coffee. And when you inhaled, she burned your lungs the way that made you want to do it again.”

“Her soul is filled with silent scars, they reek indifference.”

ANYTHING ELSE?

I loved writing this application and following the process you were making this rpg happen. Good luck with acceptances !

#raraccepted #accepted: svetlana

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not-a-space-alien · 7 years

Text

In Sickness, part 2: The Doctor WILL see you now

Warnings for this chapter: Nonconsensual drug use

Series masterpost

On AO3

“Lord Maltha!”

“Hm?”

“Someone’s come in.”

Maltha put down the pen she had been writing with. “Someone’s come in?”

“Yes.”

This had never happened before. “Send them in, then.”

A demon peeked its head into the room, then strode forwards and took a seat quickly in front of her desk.

“Maltha, I’m so glad you could see me!” said the demon, who was a lanky fellow with ugly teeth. “I have this friend I’m very worried about, and I was hoping you could help me.”

The feathery crest on Maltha’s head rose slightly with interest. “Indeed? Tell me more.” She shuffled through the papers on her desk. “I hadn’t thought I missed someone. We were all caught up as far as I could see.”

“My friend’s name is Crowley,” said the demon. “He’s stationed on Earth and I think there’s something wrong with him.”

Maltha snapped a writing tablet open and began swiping a pen over it. “Give me details, and I’ll look into it right away. What’s the nature of his injury?”

Maltha had not spent much time on Earth or socializing at all. If she had, she might have recognized what followed as an overdramatic lie. But since she’d never been very good at interpersonal interaction, she didn’t.

The demon burst into tears. “Maltha, it’s not a physical injury. I think there’s something wrong with his head, you know? His head, his mental health. He’s a danger to himself.”

Maltha tapped her pen. This was also a first. Typically when a demon was noted to behave in a manner that would have made a human concerned about another’s mental health, that demon got a commendation for it, not concern. “What makes you say that?”

“He loves, I know he does. It’s not right for a demon. It’s very concerning.”

All of Maltha’s feathers and hair stood on end. “What did you say?” she growled.

“Love. He loves.”

“What does he love?”

“God’s creation.”

Maltha let out a furious hiss. “That is not proper. There must be something wrong with him.”

“That’s exactly what I thought! And I thought you might be able to help him.”

She stood. “It’s good that you brought this to my attention. Thank you. I will see to it. And how are you feeling today?”

“Oh, I’m—I’m—I’m just fine,” stuttered the demon, backpedaling. “Nothing wrong with me, right as rain!”

Maltha smiled. “That’s excellent. And may I have your name, please? So Crowley can know which friend of his was so concerned about him.”

“The name’s Hastur,” said the other demon, suppressing a smirk. “And you can tell him it was me.”

Crowley hummed to himself, his tie flapping in the wind rushing over him through the Bentley’s open window, his hair whipping everywhere. “I’m in Love With My Car” was on the radio.

“Don’t you think you ought to slow down a bit?” said Aziraphale, bracing himself on the door handle as the Bentley took a sharp turn.

“Nonsense!” said Crowley enthusiastically. “There’s hardly a pedestrian in sight!”

The Bentley barreled its way down the road and skidded to a stop directly in front of Aziraphale’s bookshop. Crowley popped the passenger’s side door open. “There you are, angel.”

“Thank you, Crowley,” said Aziraphale, making a motion to get out.

“Erm, hold on a moment,” said Crowley.

Aziraphale turned back to look at him.

“Erm…” said Crowley. “I mean, I didn’t mean we had to go home, necessarily, I just meant we should leave the gala. It’s not too late yet, did you want to…grab something to eat, or…?”

Aziraphale smiled. “Ah, I had some work I was still hoping to get done tonight, actually.”

“Oh,” said Crowley, deflating.

“Oh, ah, although,” said Aziraphale, “I should be free tomorrow night, hm? We could go see that movie you’re so keen on checking out.”

Crowley continued humming on his way home. Things had been going quite well between him and Aziraphale since the aversion of the almost-apocalypse, and he was quite pleased with the slow and steady progression of their relationship. If that were the proper word for it…

When he reached his flat, he jammed the Bentley in between two cars that had not previously been far enough apart to admit it. But the other cars were the ones that got the scratches, so it was all right. He made his way up to his flat, still humming, in high spirits.

He strolled down the darkened hallway, popped his locked front door open without withdrawing a key, stepped in, then froze and stood absolutely still.

One might ask if demons are afraid of the dark. A demon is something people are afraid of meeting in the dark, so would demons themselves harbor that very human fear?

The answer is yes, but only if there is something in the dark with them.

A pair of red eyes glowed faintly at him from the far side of the room, fixed on him with intense interest.

With a motion, Crowley flicked the lights on.

There was an enormous woman sitting at the table in the kitchenette, her mouth turned in a sharp line, neither smiling nor frowning, a crop of black feathers erupting from her head, her feet sinisterly curled into wicked talons.

“M-Maltha!” squeaked Crowley. “I-I’m sorry, you startled me. I had no reason to expect you might be coming, seeing as how I’m not injured.” He held out his hands and did a nervous twirl. “Nope, nothing wrong with me at all, perfectly fine!”

Maltha’s claws scraped against the floor as she stood. “As far as I can see.”

“What does that mean?” said Crowley. “There’s nothing wrong with my organs either.”

“Crowley, I’d like you to come down and visit my clinic. Just for an evaluation. It shouldn’t take long.”

Crowley seemed to wilt a little. There was no saying no to a direct summon like that. “Oh. All right.”

He felt like a condemned man walking to the gallows as they made their way down to Hell. This is not uncommon for people with that particular destination, although not usually true of demons.

They reached the third circle soon enough. When they entered the healing clinic, orderlies and nurses with beady eyes and clad in stained, off-white uniforms peered at him hungrily; the entryway was dirty linoleum, with fluorescent lights buzzing incessantly.

“Take a seat in there,” said Maltha, indicating a room. “I’ll be with you in one moment.”

Crowley did as he was told and found a room with grimy carpet, a ripped vinyl bench patched with white medical tape, a rusty sink, and an open biohazard bin full of broken needles. Grimacing, he eased himself up onto the bench, the paper crinkling as he did so, and was disheartened to hear the door lock behind him.

He sat in silence, the lights buzzing.

Damn. Was it just naturally part of the medical process to make your patients wait? Was this part psychological torture of some kind?

Finally, the door creaked open, and Maltha entered, writing on a clipboard. She had a stethoscope around her neck. “Unbutton your shirt.”

Crowley squirmed. “Lord Maltha, there’s really nothing wrong with—”

“Unbutton your shirt,” she cawed, and Crowley was too scared not to obey.

The stethoscope was cold on his chest, and she scribbled something onto the clipboard quickly before putting one claw on his wrist and taking his pulse.

“Okay,” she said, apparently satisfied with whatever information she had gleaned from that. “I’m going to give you some psychological tests to see how you respond. Please remember that there’s no right or wrong answer.”

She held up a card with black blotches in strange shapes. “What do you see in this image?”

“It looks like someone dribbled ink onto cardstock.”

“Well, yes, but do you see anything else besides that?”

“I can kind of see your hand through it, if that’s what you mean.”

It was the first time anyone had ever failed a Rorschach test. Maltha dropped the cards. “That’s okay. No wrong answers and all that. Let’s…move on. There’s a different type of test I’d like you to take.”

Maltha escorted him out and into a different room in the back. The orderlies and nurses once again stared at him with the expression of starved wolves as he came out, but none of them made any movements towards him. Maltha seemed to be radiating vague disdain for them, and it kept them pinned to the far side of the room.

The second room had rusty red walls and Crowley didn’t like the look of it at all. The effect was not lessened at all when Maltha put a knife in his hand.

“Stand right here, please.” She motioned to someone outside, and one of her demonic helpers came in with a pathetic figure bound in chains, its face distorted as to be unrecognizable, its form withered and incorporeal.

It was a human soul. Crowley swallowed.

“Crowley, destroy this human soul.”

Crowley ground his teeth. The damned human looked at him with a resigned sort of fear, but its eyes were still pleading.

“Look,” said Crowley, though he did not drop the knife. “It was just doing its best—”

“Crowley,” said Maltha, “Damning and killing human souls is part of the job description of a demon. I hadn’t thought you were unable to carry out your duties?”

No right answer my ass. It was a test, and Crowley knew damn well it was pass/fail.

He liked people. It was a major failing in a demon. So he had hoped no one would ever find out.

It was a messy process and there would have been quite a lot of blood, had disembodied human souls contained any. He could hardly stand to look at what was left of the wretched thing, trying not to think of the possibility that he had been responsible for this particular soul’s temptation in life. He wiped the knife off and tried to hand it back to Maltha.

“Hold onto it,” said Maltha, and his heart sank.

She snapped at the orderly, who removed the remains of the human. “I can see that caused you a lot of distress, Crowley.”

“No!” said Crowley with what he hoped was convincing bravado. “Not at all! Why would it? I love….ah….killing.”

She fixed one eye on him and scribbled something on her clipboard quickly.

“What are you writing?”

“Observations.”

Crowley tried to peer over to see her notes, but she was so much larger than him that they weren’t at eye level, and she snapped the clipboard away quickly so that she could motion to another orderly outside.

He couldn’t stifle the gasp that welled up; this time the figure in chains had broad, sandy wings. The orderly forced it to its knees, and the angel didn’t meet Crowley’s gaze.

“Az-Aziraphale?”

“Good, you recognize him,” said Maltha. “Now, kill him.”

Crowley clutched the knife with nothing short of terror. Kill Aziraphale? Kill him? It was one thing when they were on earth and one of them died; they could simply get a new body and come back later after some paperwork, but here—

He felt hot breath on his ear as Maltha’s voice said softly, directly to him, “Kill him,” and Crowley was reminded of the stakes.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Why was Maltha doing this? What would this prove? He knew angels died sometimes when their healers couldn’t get to them fast enough, but he had never had to kill any of them.

And Aziraphale, of all angels. His angel.

Crowley whirled around and rammed the blade into Maltha’s abdomen.

The archdemon’s eyes glowed like two coals burning him. Crowley stumbled backwards as she jerked the knife out of herself, the wound sliding closed almost instantly under her hands. “You know, Crowley, I said there was no wrong answer, but that was about as close to a wrong answer as it was possible to get.”

Crowley decided that his priority was now getting out of here at any cost. He dashed over to grab Aziraphale, but his hands ghosted right through him.

The orderly let out a warped laugh. The image of Aziraphale disappeared; Crowley stared at the space where he had been, his eyes wide and dumb.

“Crowley, I wouldn’t bring a real angel into my clinic,” said Maltha. “Not where there are vulnerable patients.”

“Where is he?” Crowley shouted.

“He was never here, you lunatic,” said the orderly viciously.

“Marko,” snarled Maltha, her voice shrieking like a predatory hawk, and the orderly cowered against the wall. “That is not how you talk to patients.”

“He stabbed you!”

“He’s not well! It’s not his fault.”

Crowley was suddenly aware that he could no longer claim demonic sanity as a defense; he had chosen to stab another demon instead of an angel, and then expressed concern over that angel’s well-being.

Shit.

“Grab him!” said Maltha as Crowley darted towards the exit, and hands clamped onto him immediately. He thrashed as hard as he could, but he was fighting against arms that had had millennia of practice subduing demons who were trying to escape.

That’s how Crowley found himself trussed up in a straightjacket and lashed to a wheelchair, being pushed further into the clinic.

“Maltha, I’m not sick,” he said, desperately tugging at the manacles keeping his legs to the chair. “Please believe me, I’m not.”

He felt one of her great hands on his head. “There’s no shame in admitting you’re sick,” said Maltha’s voice from behind him. “Your friend was very concerned about you.”

“My friend?”

“Duke Hastur, of course.”

“Damn him!” hissed Crowley. “That bastard, he wanted to get back at me for what I did to him and Ligur!” He began to try and elbow his way out of the straightjacket, but they had put it on him so tightly he could hardly breathe.

“He’s not ‘getting back at you,’” said Maltha. The wheels on the chair continued to squeak and whine. “This isn’t a punishment, Crowley. This is to help you.”

“I don’t need help! Let me out of here!”

“Crowley, what if that angel on Earth had decided to attack you? You wouldn’t have defended yourself. You would have gotten hurt. You’re a danger to yourself. And you’re obviously not well if you’d attack a fellow demon.”

“He wouldn’t attack me!”

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say it sounds like you trust that angel.”

“So what if I do? It’s not like there are any demons I can trust!”

Crowley’s eyes blew wide with alarm as he felt Maltha’s hands release the wheelchair; it sedately lolled to the side, the foot rests clanking against the wall.

The electric lights buzzed.

Maltha bent into his field of vision slowly, one hand on an armrest, the other planted against the wall, leaning into his face, her mouth fixed in a toothy snarl. Crowley slid down as far as the restraints would allow him, shrinking away, his agitated attempts to break free frozen by fear.

“Angels are scum,” said Maltha. “They stood by and watched as the Creator sentenced their brothers and sisters to an eternity of suffering. They were indifferent in the face of injustice. That angel didn’t lift a finger to help you because it wasn’t convenient. They will always be your enemies. There is something wrong with you for trying to form any sort of relationship with any angel, and you are a danger to yourself and others if you’re going to do something like that.”

She withdrew and took a very deep breath. That toothy snarl turned back upwards into a smile again, and she walked back around. The wheelchair started moving forwards with a clatter.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have let my emotions show through like that. It’s not your fault. Being on Earth so long has obviously affected you. We’ll have you back to the way you should be in no time.”

Crowley’s nerves were absolutely shot. He slumped in the chair. “I’m not sick.”

“You are. Demons should not feel love towards any of God’s creation.”

“Maltha, the Earth is wonderful, I’m not sick for loving it.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“Humans are so clever and build so many interesting things, cars and fountains with electric lights and screens that let you talk to anyone no matter where they are, and they feed small animals just for the sake of being kind, and they give each other gifts just to see each other smile, and on clear days the sunset makes the sky look like cotton candy and the grass feels so good on your stomach—feet—and the plants, they grow and grow and you get to watch and say I did that, and the food and the wine—Maltha, haven’t you ever sat down with someone you cared about and drunk good wine?”

“I haven’t, no,” said Maltha. He knew she was just patronizing him now, and he knew that going on was just digging him deeper and deeper in, because he sounded like a raving lunatic to anyone who didn’t appreciate Earth, which was all demons except him.

He shut his mouth, defeated. The chair finally stopped rolling, and Maltha pushed him into a room with soft walls, closing the door behind her.

“I can’t stay here,” he said. “I have a date tomorrow night.”

“We won’t keep you here long,” she said, walking over to a cabinet and pulling it open. “I’m sure you’ve got important things to do, so we’ll send you on your way as soon as we can.”

Now this was cruel. He wouldn’t lose the Earth and his car and his plants and his angel and all the humans and all the things he liked. He would just lose the ability to find any joy or meaning in them.

He heard pills rattling around. God, there were a lot of pills.

#good omens #my writing #my good omens fanfic

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roslinadama-sinequanon · 7 years

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This is a little late, spent the end of last week preparing and then attending the Women’s March. INCREDIBLE experience! Then I came home and found out that while I was gone Major Crimes had been renewed for season six, OMG FINALLY! Thrilled beyond belief. Now let’s just hope this new season is used to see growth and depth in Sharon’s character and the Shandy relationship.

CHRISTMAS IN CONNECTICUT-PART FOUR

“Mmmm…. “Andy gave a soft groan. “You weren’t kidding, this does feel great.”

“I’m surprised you’ve never done it before. “

“No, never. I had no idea you liked this kind of thing. Do you do it a lot?” Even after all this time together there were still things he was learning about Sharon.

“Once or twice a month. But I’ve never done it with anyone, just on my own. It‘s a great way to alleviate stress.”

Certainly better than bottling it up inside. She didn’t make the accusation aloud but the undercurrent was certainly there in her tone. Andy wisely chose not to argue the point.

“You know, “she continued. “Maybe if we do this more often it could even help with your blood pressure.”

“Better than those stupid pills. “

“Andy, you still have to take your pills.”

“I know, I know.”

He hated the little hitch of fear in her voice. His collapse a few months ago, even though it had turned out to be much ado about nothing, had really done a number her.

“Since you’ve never done this before, what made you decide to give it a try?”

“Gavin.”

“My Gavin?”

“Do you really have to call him that?”

His disgruntled response drew a soft laugh from Sharon. Gavin was gay and Andy knew it. He had nothing to worry about on that front. But a jealous Andy Flynn was an adorable Andy Flynn. “You consulted with Gavin?”

“Well, he is one of your best friends. He knows what you like. When I showed him the website of the resort he said I had to book some time in the spa for a massage. The only massage parlors I know anything about are the ones we used to raid back when I was on Vice in the 80‘s.”

Sharon’s hand tensed in his then quickly relaxed.

“What?” he asked, turning his head to look at her. She gave him a little smirk.

“I thought you were going to say the parlors you used to go to.”

Andy snorted. “I have a long list of sins but being serviced at massage parlors is not one of them. Of course that doesn’t mean I don’t know the kinds of things that went on there so if you’d like to do a little role playing---”

”Andy!” she cut him off squeezing his hand hard. “Please remember we are not alone.”

“Oh yeah. Sorry guys.”

Both massage therapists laughed. Andy didn’t really seem very sorry at all.

“Well, anyway, Baker was right. Who would have known that having hot rocks pressed into your back would actually feel good?”

“I thought it sounded strange the first time my massage therapist suggested it too,” Sharon said. “But I’m glad you listened to Gavin. A romantic couple’s massage is the perfect way to spend our afternoon. My muscles could use a break.”

They were both lying side by side holding hands though on separate tables, naked, save for a strategically placed towel over their buttocks. Warm fragrant oils were massaged into their skin, ylang ylang for her and sandalwood for him and hot smooth stones pressed out all the aches and pains in their muscles. Candles created a soft glow and soothing music a sense of calm and peace.

It was just what they needed to cap off three days of nearly constant activity. After day one on the alpine slopes, yesterday had been spent cross country skiing through the woods and open fields surrounding the inn with the rest of the family. Sharon was in very good shape. She worked out frequently, swam almost every day and took yoga and a body barre class, but her muscles were still protesting the vigorous activity. Cross country looked easy, but it was actually a lot of work, a great cardio vascular exercise.

And after all that, this morning they’d had a big breakfast and the whole family, except for Ricky and Rusty, hit the trail along a bluff of the frozen river to try out some snow shoeing.

Much to Sharon’s delight Ricky had offered to teach Rusty how to snowboard and Rusty had actually accepted the offer. It had been a rocky beginning between her boys. Rusty had been wary and intimidated by her older, confident and accomplished son and Ricky had been suspicious and jealous of the boy she had come to love and wanted to make her son.

Ricky’s reaction to her adopting Rusty had been appalling to Sharon. She’d always prided herself on having raised two kind and compassionate children. But, with a little manipulation by his jealous father and the protectiveness that came from being the only male with a mother and a sister, Ricky had come off as petty and condescending and worst of all for Sharon, lacking in empathy for a boy who had been raised without all the love and care and material advantages that Ricky took for granted.

But as shocked and upset as she’d been, she’d also known right away that while it was Ricky speaking, the words coming out of his mouth were pure Jack Raydor. Once she’d cut through Jack’s bullshit, laid it all out to Ricky and appealed to his better nature, he had come around as she’d hoped he would. He’d made an effort with Rusty and offered him an olive branch which, happily, Rusty had accepted. And he’d done it again today with the offer of the snowboarding lesson. Ricky was turning out to be a pretty decent big brother.

++++

“I’m so relaxed, I almost feel like I want a nap.” Andy settled heavily on their bed once they were back in their room at the inn.

It was a beautiful room, very romantic. A king sized canopy bed covered in luxury linens was strategically placed directly across from the fireplace. Thick plush carpeting warmed their feet and French doors opened out to small balcony overlooking the twinkling lights surrounding the frozen pond.

“Mmm…” Sharon hummed. “I can think of something better. How about we try out that Jacuzzi tub?”

“Really? “ Andy’s eyes lit. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Sharon grinned and shook her head at how quickly that perked him up. She used to think Andy was so unpredictable, but when it came to sex he was very predictable. Predictable and insatiable. Not that she was complaining. Since they’d become lovers Andy had reawakened her libido making her burn in ways she’d never known she could burn. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that she’d become quite insatiable herself.

Andy stood and looked at his watch.

“Do you have somewhere else to be?” She asked.

“No…uh…No. I just. I think I‘ll start a fire so the room will be warm when we‘re finished.”

Sharon’s eyes narrowed. She could always tell when Andy wasn‘t being completely truthful. A knot tightened in her stomach. The look on his face was one she unfortunately knew all too well.

No.

She quickly shoved her suspicions aside with a shake of her head. Andy was not Jack. He did not have ulterior motives for bringing her here. He didn’t have a poker game waiting for him or another woman tucked away somewhere.

“Okay, well, I’ll go start the tub then.”

Andy nodded then got to work at the fireplace. He was still working on getting a fire blazing when his cell phone rang. He answered the phone and glanced toward the bathroom at the sound of the female voice on the other end. “Yes…uh…Yes tonight,” he agreed. “But I said I’d call you. Please don’t call me again, my girlfriend is with me. I don’t want her to know what’s going on.”

“Andy…”Sharon called from the bathroom. “What’s taking you so long?”

“I don’t start many fires in LA,” Andy called back. “It’s taking me a while to get it going.”

“Well hurry up, it‘s lonely by myself in this big tub. I think I‘m going to have to get started without you.”

Andy froze at the quick image of Sharon pleasuring herself that flashed into his brain, a shot of desire piercing him right in the groin. No way he wanted to miss that.

Quickly he rushed into the bathroom.

A slow sexy smile curved on Sharon’s lips. “I thought that might get your attention,” she drawled sensuously.

Andy could hardly speak. Sharon was leaning back in the bubbling water, hair piled up on her head. Candles lined the edge of the tub and she teased him by biting the tip of one of the chocolate covered strawberries they’d been given at their massage while her fingertips ran up and down her chest

“Andy?” She questioned when he continued to stare, mesmerized by the finger moving down her breast. “Would you care to join me?”

“What? “

“I said would you care to join me?” Her thumb came dangerously close to her nipple and all the blood rushed from his head into his cock.

“Oh, hell yeah.”

Sharon giggled again watching him tear off his clothes as fast as he could. Yep, her Andy was extremely predictable.

****

“So, as far as role playing goes, is this the kind of massage you were referring to?”

“Oh Christ, yes.” Andy’s head fell back on a groan when Sharon’s hand closed over him, sliding up and down his rigid length. “So good Shar.”

“I thought you might like that.” She rose slightly to nuzzle into his neck, giving a surprised gasp of pleasure when one of the jets sent a powerful surge of water between her legs. “Oh God Andy, when we buy a house we have to get a tub like this.”

“Anything you want, sweetheart.”

Through the haze of pleasure her hand was creating between his legs, he let his mind drift with satisfaction at her reference to their house hunting. He was well aware that he’d pushed the matter a bit by making the decision to put his house in Valencia on the market so he could find a place closer to her Los Feliz condo without consulting her first. He‘d figured that if he discussed it with her she might try to talk him out of it. She was trying so hard to keep the last tiny bit of the wall that she’d shielded herself with between them, and he was trying equally hard to tear it down, slowly, brick by brick.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love him, he knew she did. She was just scared. She’d been let down so badly in the past it was completely understandable that she’d have trouble letting a man, even one she loved, completely into the life she’d so carefully constructed for herself and her children. She’d been very open with him about that and he’d tried to be respectful of her request to take things slow. But because of her reticence he knew that if things were going to move forward in their relationship he would most likely be the one to have to take the initiative. And so he had, by putting his house up for sale and tentatively broaching the idea of moving in together.

Sharon had definitely surprised him with her response. Not only hadn’t she flatly turned him down, she’d suggested going out to dinner to discuss the matter and before their shrimp potsticker appetizer had even arrived she had agreed to start looking for a home they could purchase together. And when his Valencia house had sold more quickly than he’d thought it would Sharon was the one who had suggested that he move in with her, this time into her bedroom, while they continued to look for a place to buy together. A place big enough for the two of them, Rusty, and enough room for their visiting kids. It was everything he’d wanted. Well, almost everything. But he’d also worried that he’d pressured her. He was getting what he wanted, but was she really getting what she wanted?

Those worries had been alleviated after the first house they’d gone to look at together. Sharon had been so excited and enthusiastic as they toured the home, already planning how she was going to decorate it. Ultimately they hadn’t bought the house because it was infested with black mold, but it had shown him that Sharon was just as excited as he was about buying a house together.

“Andy, did I lose you?” She nibbled on his earlobe while gently cupping and stroking his balls.

“No, not all. “ Damn. When she spoke like that, all sultry, low and throaty, his body responded with liquid lust. “I was just thinking, maybe we should take this into the bedroom.”

“I think that’s probably a very good idea.”

TBC

#sharon raydor #andy flynn #shandy #Major Crimes #christmas in connecticut #shandy love #Shandy Christmas #sharon and andy

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