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pedropascalunofficial · 3 years

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Pedro Pascal and Lena Headey

Head to head interview

Hunger Magazine, Issue 6. Released December 28, 2014. Photoshoot October 15, 2013.

Thirteen million. That's the number of people, on average, who tuned into each episode of the third season of Game of Thrones. Among them was Chilean actor Pedro Pascal, who was as enthralled by the sex and slaughter as the rest of us. But little did he know that within a few months he'd be pitching up on the shores of Belfast to join the cast as Oberyn Martell, affectionately known as the Red Viper. Sound ominous? It is. The Red Viper is GoTs newest anti-hero, “sexy and charming but driven by hate”. Sounds like he'll be right at home.

Pedro, on the other hand, though he looks good on paper, wasn't the obvious choice for the role. Expecting a big name to ride into King’s Landing, the show's fans took to forums to express their concerns as soon as the news broke. So is he worried? Like hell he is. “The fans had the part cast in their minds already. They knew who they wanted and it certainly was not me. But I'm not stupid, | presumed that people were going to say ‘who the fuck is this guy’. Since I anticipated the reaction it didn't throw me off.”

“There are so many different ways to go into battle with yourself when you're trying to get a job. I felt a certain amount of pressure because I wanted to make everyone happy. The fan base is so specific and, as a fan myself, I understand the relationship that they have with the show. The Red Viper is the best part I've ever played, and in season four shocks come at the most unexpected times. You might think you know, but you have no idea,” he explains.

Looks like the Red Viper could be in line to fill a Walter-White-sized-hole in television, but to test the theory we pit Pascal against Lena Headey, aka the Queen. Because if you can come away from Cersei unscathed, you can handle anything.

LH: So, Pedro, you come into Game of Thrones in season four, playing a pretty major character. Does that fill you with joy or dread?

PP: I'd say it fills me with joy because it’s a really fucking fun part. He’s a badass. He comes up against a lot of the main characters in the show. I'm very aware of the show. I watch it like a fan.

LH: Were you a fan before you arrived in Belfast?

PP: Yeah, I was a proper fan. I was caught up in the drama of it before I even auditioned for the part. I was already up to speed.

LH: I remember meeting you and thinking, “he fucking loves the show’.

PP: I kissed your ass.

LH: Well, it worked. We're friends now.

PP: I was like a tourist visiting the set, and yet I had to act with you and be in a scene with the characters that I had such a specific association with already.

LH: So you’re saying it’s boring?

PP: No, it wasn’t boring at all. It was extremely, relentlessly surreal.

LH: And who were your favourite characters up until that point?

PP: Not you.

LH: I realise that!

PP: There are too many characters to have a favourite, but I was fascinated by the Lannisters because they're so frightening. They scared me and then you would come in and pull sympathy from your audience somehow, and I found that rather fascinating. The Northerners were so easy to like or get behind, but it was quite something to see people sympathise with a Lannister, after you made people see things from their perspective.

LH: Speaking of being slightly ambiguous as a character, you come in as a major player and a very well-loved character in the eyes of people who read the books, and he’s somewhat of an anti-hero. Did you base him on anyone?

PP: What does an anti-hero mean exactly?

LH: It means he doesn't wear deodorant, doesn't it? [Laughs]. Someone you shouldn't champion, but you do, like Walter White in Breaking Bad.

PP: No, | didn’t really base him on anyone.

LH: Did you take anything from classic movies that you thought you could use and spin to your advantage playing the Red Viper?

PP: God, that’s a good question. I probably did subconsciously. Now I feel under the spotlight because I need to think of somebody, and I have so many in my mind! I think that’s something that is happening a lot in TV today: the anti-heroes are central to these television shows, and people are really getting behind them, even though they're not necessarily the most moral characters. So I'd say that ‘ve become more familiar with the character who's obviously very flawed but gets you on their side — you have complicated feelings about them. But I think I saw the story too much from this character's perspective to perceive any flaws.

LH: He has some.

PP: I know, from the outside. But I don't see any of them. What are his flaws?

LH: His flaws? He's a dirty bastard!

PP: Why is he a dirty bastard? He likes to fucking fight, for sure.

LH: Back to you as an actor. You've done it for a long time and, as we all know, the path is not always golden, and sometimes you think, “fuck it” and you want to leave it and do something else. Have there been moments where you wanted to give up?

PP: Yes, there have been moments where I came very close to giving up. But I never had anything to fall back on. I think you can understand that.

LH: Because were stupid?

PP: We're stupid.

LH: I can't even make pizza!

PP: We don’t have any other skills.

LH: None at all!

PP: And that’s the odd conundrum. You get to a point where you think, “This isn’t going to happen. This isn’t sustainable. I'm too exhausted, and it can't be good for me.” There were moments where I truly did try to formulate an idea of what I'd do. I thought I'd go back to school, start pre-med again and go to medical school or something like that.

LH: But that didn't happen, you just thought about it?

PP: Yes, I'd have thoughts, but it was still fantasy really. But at the time it felt like a practical life plan. Do you know what I mean?

LH: Yeah of course, you need to pay the fucking rent.

PP: Exactly. You just try to escape from the chaos of what you're feeling by trying to create order in your life. Order seems like a solution to save you from the pain of acting!

LH: It's a mental pain. Who was the first person you called when you got the role?

PP: My sister.

LH: Does she watch the show?

PP: Yes, she does.

LH: Pedro Pascal... or Pablo as I called you when I had too much wine, which was deeply insulting.

PP: Even family members have done that to me! Do I look more like a Pablo? Because it happens with about ninety-five percent of the people I meet.

LH: No, I think I’m just an ignorant drunk person.

PP: No, you were an ignorant drunk person that night is what you're saying.

LH: And now I’m educated.

PP: [Whispers] But | want you to call me Pablo.

LH: Ok, Pablo! When you first arrived on set in Northern Ireland, what was your feeling showing up to a bunch of British actors? Did it feel different to doing an American project?

PP: Yes, but I loved it. It wasn’t intimidating. I found it surreal because I’d watched and loved the show. I hadn't had the opportunity to work on something that I was really familiar with before, so it was overwhelming. But it was far more delightful than intimidating. Also you guys were really cool. Everyone was friendly.

LH: Oh, that’s just fake.

PP: Well, you guys were good at it!

LH: We know Game of Thrones is very popular obviously. Do you have any thoughts, or fears, about what this is going to bring you in terms of exposure?

PP: I have hope.

LH: Oh, God. I don’t mean to shatter that, but give it up.

PP: I don’t know really. It’s all been filmed, and now I'm back to my normal routine, so I haven't really thought about it. I remember when we finished filming and we were on our way to the airport, you asked me, “How does it feel you're all done?” and I couldn't really answer.

LH: You were quite emotional that day.

PP: I was very emotional because I’d had such an amazing time doing the part. Also just being there immersed in the experience... You described it to me best. You told me how I'd be feeling.

LH: We don't know your character's backstory when you enter the show, and you have some rather brutal scenes. Anyone who has read the books will know what I’m talking about.

PP: My character comes in, he stirs a bunch of shit up, and then he makes this fucking enormous exit. Now can | ask you a question?

LH: What is it? I’m not going to sleep with you. Give it up.

PP: Oh, come on! This has gone to shit and it’s your fault, so good luck to whoever has to edit it! But anyway, sometimes I'd hang out with the cast members and we'd go to dinner and they would get stopped constantly. There was no denying who they played because they were so recognisable, but you got away with it because you have this beautiful blonde wig on in the show, and in real life you are...

LH: Grey?

PP: {Laughs] No! You have beautiful chestnut hair! Is it liberating to not be recognised the way some of the other cast members are?

LH: Yes, it is liberating.

PP: Liberating being able to walk down an alley in Dubrovnik without being stopped?

LH: Yes, except sometimes | get recognised in the weirdest places. A woman was emptying my bag at Heathrow Airport's security gates and just went, “Are you the Queen?” while rummaging through my underwear. It was so fucking weird.

PP: It seems they're more respectful to you?

LH: Because they're frightened. Wait until they meet the Viper.

PP: Well, that covers it.

LH: I think we're going to get our own show out of this, you know

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Interested in learning more about Pedro? Check out Pedro Pascal Unofficial on Pinterest!

#pedro pascal #lena headey #hunger magazine #shot October 2013 #published December 2014 #game of thrones #queen cersei #prince oberyn #oberyn #oberyn martell #hunger tv

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namgee · 3 years

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implications | knj

❥pairing: Namjoon x Reader (f) ❥genre: fluff, slice of life (pg) ❥word count: 2.3k ❥summary: The adventurer life isn’t for you. You like your routines and you stick to them, but a small mess-up finally forces you beyond your desired level of social interaction as you rely on a stranger. A stranger whose actions and words imply things you wish to explore. ❥warnings: none ❥a/n: this was just a quick little thing I wrote a few days ago before I got started on another smut fic which should come out in about a week 😋 ^^ I did a quick proofread so sorry for any mistakes 😣

A silence that sounds with turning pages, graphite scraping against thick paper and the ever present hums that arise from thought. Your ears anticipate it even before you're there. It’s, for the most part, the same soundscape you’ve grown accustomed to since you started visiting the art atelier. Well, the building technically has multiple ateliers, whatever your artistic interest, for a reasonable fee each month, you can visit the space and use their resources. Each floor focuses on certain subject areas, people are allowed to move around and work wherever they want. Like a Google workspace except for the arts.

You usually stick to the 4th floor, where most of the graphics tools are. The elevator dings, you step away from the metallic box and towards the senior part-time receptionist, Diane, who gives unsolicited artistic advice under the guise that old age equates to prowess in art criticism. The advice isn’t half as bad as you expected still, you rarely take it. You place your folder on the desk giving her a smile, teeth barely visible, it’s the best iteration of ‘a lady should always smile when talking to others’ smile you can muster with your lips chapped from the borderline glacial air you had to walk through this afternoon.

“Well, hello young lady! You haven’t visited the establishment in a while. Mateo has been asking about you actually.”

Mateo is the head of the graphic art department who you might or might not like, there’s still a few weeks left for you to decide. Your roommate, Jovian, had given you the ultimatum, “You have until you finish whatever creature you’re trying to collage together this time around,” she had said waving her half painted stiletto nail around before diverting her attention to another girl who also seemed to be having a hard time choosing as her family and in laws attempted to decide for her. On one thing you were sure, you would have said no to the dress she had on.

“There we have it! That’s a much better smile that one you gave before. It’s always best to show some teeth,” Diane says, her two row of teeth (some of which look awfully fake) in full display.

“I’ll sure think about it next time Diane. I’m just here to check in right now,” you sigh, removing your decaying gloves which have lost their purpose, your fingers are about as stale as Diane’s as you fish around for your membership card in your wallet.

“The time please darling.”

“3pm to 8pm,” you say blowing warm air into your palms.

It takes a few minutes for her to find your name in the system. “Oh sweetheart, it seems someone else already took your spot.”

“Exactly how did they take my spot?”

“Hmmm,” Diane’s eyes lift upwards as she tries to find an answer in the air, “to be quite frank with you I do not know.” She sounds shocked that she doesn’t know something.

“Uh, excuse me?” Someone questions from behind you. You both turn towards the voice coming from a golden haired man sporting what is most likely the best variant of the fully toothed lady smile Diane advocates for. To make matters even better it’s shaped like a heart. “I believe that I was the one who took the spot.” he giggles nervously as if caught red-handed before sliding his own card onto the desk.

You assume he’s here to work with graphics for some sort of fashion related purpose, in fact he sort of looks like the graphics plastered around the building: colourful, bold, warm but still a bit overwhelming.

“You’re indeed the one who booked the slot first, young man.”

“I believe that this is what the trainer for my position was referring to as a glitch in the system.” Diane says with an air of pride.

“Hm, sorry about that,” The human embodiment of a colour wheel says with an apologetic pout.

“Oh, don’t worry I’m sure I can find another place, it isn’t your fault,” you wave your hand around giving him your second or third genuine smile of the day. He mumbles a shy ‘okay’ before heading right, away from you.

“Can you see if there’s any place on the other floors?” You reluctantly ask, after all you had never gone to other floors unless it was to buy snacks because the queues on the 4th floor were too long or to find unoccupied bathrooms.

Diane finds you an opening for the floor above. You thank her and move back to catch the elevator doors right before they close, swiftly slipping in towards a surprised figure, a big figure. You mumble a quick apology after bumping into him. When you turn your head to look at him he gives you what you assume to be his own equivalent of the barely noticeable smile you gave Diane a few minutes ago.

The ride takes a few seconds. You rush out the second the opening of the doors is big enough for you slip past if you just take a deep breath in. Another second goes by where you feel disoriented. The floor layout is not that different from the one beneath but the place looks far more cramped than what you expected. Don’t writers like to be alone? In their own space?

You watch as Mr. Big gives yet another one of his glances, you haven’t figured out how to describe them yet, you don’t know if you’re being judged or just being perceived or whatever it is that writers do.

He goes to the right, so you take the other way. You peruse the space for a place you could sit down to work on your project. Somehow, the writers with their notebooks and laptops seem stingy about letting you settle down despite how packed the floor already is.

For every glance you take at a potential working spot you receive three glances and these ones you know to be of the judgy kind. You walk and walk only to end up on square one. Just to make sure, you do another round and another one as if you were in a full parking lot waiting for one of the cars to magically pull out for you to get a place. By your third tentative walk, the one where you put the most effort to seem approachable and nice, someone takes pity on you.

It seems it’s not only his stature that is big but so is his heart.

“Oh god, thank you!” You sigh, sliding into Mr. Big’s little corner which faces backwards from the café.

“It was starting to look... sad.” He gives you a brief look before focusing back on his laptop screen.

“It wouldn’t have been, if you writers were more welcoming,” you scoff, shrugging off your jacket, the rustling brings your actions to his focus.

A delicate slender hand pushes against his glasses as he leans back, “You’re quite the daredevil, huh?”

“What? Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, slipping past closing elevator doors and sitting down to probably do something noisy with a lot of... “ He takes a look at your stash of materials, “things while surrounded by silence seeking writers. Those things make me say that.”

“That’s a very boring view on action. Also the concept of this building is literally to allow anyone to work anywhere.”

“Sure, you’re right but just because that’s their goal doesn’t mean it turns out that way. This place is no different from high school, certain spaces have been sort of ‘claimed’.”

“And you expect me to act like a good teenage girl and not start trouble?”

“Your words, not mine.”

“Aren’t you a writer? You should know certain words can imply certain things,” you say matter of factly and receive a disjointed but delightful laugh as his hand fists to cover his wide smile.

“Anything else you know about writers that you would like to share?”

“You might end up making a character out of me, or a scene out of my situation.” You’re playing on stereotypes but for all you know they could be true. You lay out your material on the table forcing him to scoot a bit. He doesn’t protest and you appreciate that, so you give me a genuine tight lipped ‘thank you’ smile.

“So what are you doing?” He asks, lowering his computer screen a bit.

“A collage.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t really know yet. I’m just figuring it out as I go.” You stare at the big pile of magazines, newspapers and flyers you managed to collect over the past month. Something has to come out of it. “What about you?”

“Pretty similar actually, I just came here to write, figuring it out as I go you know.” He picks up a piece of paper nearest to him, a green flyer. “Do you even know what it says?” He holds it up to you. The text is in Arabic.

“No, I don’t.”

“Wouldn’t you want to know? I mean the work will be tied to you.” He questions.

“It doesn't matter, it’s not like anyone will see this,” you mumble, snatching the flyer from him.

“Someone should, I don’t know much about collages, actually I know nothing, but I like what I see so far.”

“What exactly do you see?” You probe.

“Ummm… uhhhh… it’s– there’s branches and,” he leans over to get a better look and hesitates “tentacles? Okay, so maybe I don’t know what it is, but I still stand by it. It’s nice to look at.”

“Would you give it as a gift to someone?” You probe even further.

“You know what, I’m just trying to tell you I like it. Like I would totally buy it! So yes, I would give it to someone, myself!” He has an overly cheery voice that encourages more glances your way. The more you look, the more you start thinking they’re watching you and not judging.

“How much?”

He gives you an incredulous expression, he seems both intrigued and confused with behaviour.

You snort a short laugh, “I’m just messing with you. But don’t get me wrong if you do want to buy it then I’m definitely taking offers.”

At that he retreats back into himself and his silence to focus on the blank document page. You shrug it away, you knew his words were too good to be true.

The two of you work in relative silence, your ripping and cutting does add a bit of a soundtrack for the period of time. After an hour or so of working, you move to buy a cinnamon bun, and while you’re at it you buy a second one. You did feel a bit apologetic for disturbing his workspace, you of all people should know.

You place his plate beside him but he’s too engrossed into his writing to provide any response. He does finally whisper a shy ‘thanks’ once he lifts his gaze from the screen. You answer with a nonchalant but truthful ‘no biggie’.

The hours bleed into themselves and soon enough your allocated time is about to run out. You’re quite used to that routine,packing up your material well in time to leave. However, the man in front of you doesn’t seem to have a good grasp of time. Last minute, he hurries to assemble his belongings, swiftly turning around to check that he hasn’t left anything behind, almost knocking down the plate that you manage to catch.

Your elevator ride to the bottom floor is as silent as the one you had earlier. You walk with synchronised strides somehow following the same way after you leave the building. You’re sure one of you is following the other, but as long as you’re concerned you’re taking the way back home. You walk in silence for a few more minutes before you think of asking him where he lives, just to make sure but he beats you to speaking.

“So uhhh, would–” he starts off in a high pitched voice which he masks with a cough, “I meant, would you like to grab a coffee?”

“At 8pm?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Or a drink?” He suggests.

“What does coffee or a drink mean?”

“I thought you were good at getting the implications of certain words.” He smirks, which seems out of character, but then again you don’t know him. You’re just curious about something first.

“What did you end up writing?”

“A short story about an avid museum visitor that discovers a collage at an exhibition that has him intrigued.” He chuckles knowing very well it just proves your point. And you smile satisfied to have finally figured out what that particular glance of his meant. He was just taking you in.

“It’s Y/N by the way,” you would have reached out your hand towards him but they’re cold so you compensate with a warm smile Diane would approve of. “And I wouldn’t mind a drink right now.”

“I’m Namjoon and I’m very happy you said that” He punctuates his excitement with a dimple. The same one you would come to grow enamoured with, so much you would make a collage piece out of all the pictures you’ve taken where it is present. In return, he would, just as he did today, unconsciously and deliberately write your works into his stories, and welcome you into his space.

“By the way, when you let me sit with you in your space, were you claiming me then?” You ask out of curiosity and urge to mess with him.

“I– I don’t know what you’re implying. But if you mean me taking pity on you then yes.” You scoff a bit too loud at his response. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to whatever it is you have in mind,” He says, looking down at your quizzical expression with warm eyes and a restrained laugh as he walks closer to you. It seems you’re not the only one who’s good with implications.

thank you for reading my fic, i hope you enjoyed it 🥺 any feedback or comment is welcomed !!

#namjoon #kim namjoon #ficswithluv #bangtanhq #houseofddaeng #bts fluff #bts #btsfanfic #bts fanfiction #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon fanfic #slice of life #mine #namgee

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fandom-necromancer · 3 years

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Feral for each other

This was prompted by the amazing @smolandangry001! This was fun to write but prepare for angst!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 (Warnings: unpunished police brutality if you think about it, violence)

[Part2]

‘Gavin, I don’t feel good about this.’ ‘I know, babe’, Gavin whispered sitting next to him in the car, watching the others already mill about busy making last preparations. He turned towards the android and tried to smile at him as reassuringly as he could. ‘I’m here, okay? I will look out for you. If you need me, I’ll be there.’ ‘This will be just another Ferndale incident’, Nines disagreed. ‘It was mere luck I didn’t...’ The android looked at his hands contorted to claws and there was horror evident on his face as if he could still see it. Very gently, Gavin took his hands, looked out of the front window and kissed Nines fingers as he was sure no one was looking. ‘Then we’ll be lucky again.’ He pushed Nines fingers close and gifted him yet another smile. ‘We will get this over with, we will both return home tonight. I promise.’ Nines closed his eyes, LED still settled on red when he finally nodded and waited for Gavin to step out of the car. He took his pistol, checked the magazine for the hundredth time and followed Gavin over to their meeting point with SWAT and the FBI team.

‘Any news?’, Gavin asked one of his colleagues, who just pointed to Agent Perkins, who was listening intently to his ear-piece. ‘Captain Allen and Sixty have already met and our favourite RK800 is currently passing through the intel. I bet we are clear to storm in a moment.’ Gavin nodded and watched the building in front of them. He knew why he hated undercover operations: If they went wrong, they went to hell immediately. They were lucky the gang thought they could get their hands on police information. It was the only reason Allen was still alive and they had someone to rescue. Sixty had successfully infiltrated the building and already incapacitated some of the gang-members, but soon it was time for the whole team to go in. And from Perkins’ body language, that moment wasn’t so far away now.

The man nodded and looked over at them. Gavin had never liked the self-righteous asshole, but he had to respect him for his competence in the field. ‘RK900, I want you with my men in the front’, he began to bark. ‘We went over this a hundred times, I won’t repeat myself. Stay with your teams, be careful and stick to the damn plan! We will get this man out alive and well!’ Nines already moved and Gavin fell in step next to him. ‘Reed! On your position!’ The Detective sighed and turned to Perkins. ‘Listen, my position is next to Nines.’ ‘We don’t have time for your rebellious body-cop act. Don’t make me regret agreeing to have you on this mission.’ Gavin clenched his teeth and looked at Nines, who gave him a barely perceivable nod. ‘Alright, listen here Perkins. You might have heard about the Ferndale incident?’ ‘I have, that’s why I want the RK900 on the team.’ ‘Then you might not know I was there too and was the only reason Nines didn’t kill his colleagues, too. So, I guess you would agree that the position I am most useful in is right at his side.’ Perkins watched him with narrowed eyes, but reluctantly nodded. ‘Fine. Stay with him. Don’t cause any problems.’

They joined the first team to enter and Nines sheepishly looked around, avoiding their eyes. ‘Hey, it won’t happen again’, Gavin mumbled under his breath, knowing only the android would be able to hear him. ‘It’s okay, I’m here.’ He couldn’t take his hand out here in the open and hold him, so his soft words had to suffice. The android’s LED turned from red to yellow at least, so that might have been a good sign. He wouldn’t have much time to do anything else anyways as they got the order to move out.

It was a short jog up the hill and down the other side to the building’s main entrance. Nines was in the very front taking the lead, Gavin right behind him and the rest of the team surrounding him. He was a good shot and well-trained, but he was seldom in the situation to actually pull it on people except maybe as an intimidation tactic. He really was mainly here because of Nines. He hoped his own words would prove themselves true and he wasn’t needed.

They breached the doors and were almost immediately met with gunfire they returned. With mechanical efficiency, Nines took out the more difficult targets, incapacitating them with shots in the legs or arms. He rushed in as soon as someone lost their pistol and took care of them with a well placed punch. Then the whole team hurried onwards before anyone could alarm someone, potentially making them harm or kill Allen in their panic.

They ran along the hallway, the sounds of their boots echoing back from the wall. Gavin saw Nines look back at him at least once and they both seemed to relax a little at that. But it wasn’t over yet. They entered yet another big room, Sixty’s intel helping them navigate. They turned right and ran on, only to be stopped once again. Maybe they had already discovered them rushing in or the sound of gunshots had alerted them. Gavin let himself fall back and covered their backs, only to be snatched, when he least expected it: An arm snaked itself around his neck and someone kicked the pistol from his hand. He began to struggle against the hold only to have the barrel of a gun pressed against his head. ‘Everyone drop their weapons and leave!’, the man holding Gavin demanded, but all that entailed was the SWATs to aim back at them. Gavin knew the statistics of a hostage surviving something like this, but somehow hoped they would change in his favour, when his eyes met Nines’. Oh no.

Nines stared at him, but only in the first moment he looked adequately panicked and afraid. Then a look of robotic indifference washed over his face as his body dropped processes active only to integrate with humans: His breathing and blinking stopped, and his stance changed to better supply the full strength and agility of a machine. Gavin swallowed hard and tried to calm himself down ignoring his surroundings. ‘Nines. Nines, it’s okay, calm down. They won’t harm me.’ ‘Shut up! We will!’ Gavin jolted his head and hissed: ‘Listen buddy, you don’t know what’s coming for y-‘ The pressure of the arm around his throat rose and let his words die in his throat. He still tried to look at Nines and contorted his face to something that should have been a calm smile. But he couldn’t control his heart beating in his chest and throat and his laboured breath.

And that action seemed to finally enable Nines’ protocols fully. The android smashed his shoulder into the side of one of the SWAT-members and ripped his weapons off his body to shoot them into the ambushing gang-members. With cold precision, one bullet after the next, the people fell to the ground, dead. RK900 had fired while running up to the man that held Gavin hostage. Now he stood in front of them and punched him in the face while at the same time forcing the gun out of his hand. The man fell to the ground, but the machine wasn’t finished yet, punching him again and again as blood already streamed from his nose. Gavin fell to his knees too, as the arm around his neck had vanished and gasped for air. He allowed himself just a second, before turning to the rest of the SWAT-team and signalling them to get the fuck out of here and continue with the mission.

They didn’t hesitate fleeing, seeing the android still punching the lifeless body of the man who had threatened Gavin. At the sound of their feet, the machine turned around, uniform splattered with blood and seemed ready to run after them not distinguishing between enemy and ally anymore but only analysing threats. As Gavin realised the android was moments away from sprinting off, he pushed himself in his way and held him by the shoulders, knowing there was no way he could actually prevent him from slaughtering his co-workers in this state.

‘RK900, stand down. That’s an order’, he said with stern voice, although he couldn’t hide his panting. ‘All enemies obliterated, disengage soldier protocols.’ The android blinked once, looking at Gavin, but still having that distant look on his face. It wasn’t over yet. ‘You did well, RK900, your target is safe’, Gavin tried to get through to Nines. And that made him blink once again, his LED turning red in an instant. Gavin immediately let go of his shoulders and took his hands. ‘Nines, Nines, look. I’m fine. I’m fine. Don’t worry, I wasn’t hurt. I’m not in danger anymore, I am fine. I am fine. I’m okay. You understand?’ ‘Gavin’, Nines answered, voice loaded with static. ‘Gavin, I saw you… You had a gun against your head and someone held you hostage and-‘ Nines lifted his hands to his head, but Gavin forced them to stay down and instead lifted his own up to make him focus on him. ‘Nines, it’s fine. I’m okay. I’m safe. That happened, but it’s over now. You saved me.’ ‘I… saved you?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Did I…’ He tried to move his head, but Gavin shook his head telling him not to. ‘Yes. You did. Like Ferndale.’ ‘Is… Did I hurt many?’ ‘You killed the ambushing gang-members. The rest of the team is safe. They are off to save Allen.’ ‘How many?’ Gavin looked around and grimaced. ‘Shit, I don’t know. Ten? It looks like more than ten.’ It made the android press his eyes together in pain.

‘Hey, it’s not your fault, okay?’, Gavin tried softly. ‘You were programmed like this. You can’t do anything about it.’ ‘I’m not programmed like this. It’s a malfunction because I…’ ‘There is no one around, Nines, it’s okay. You can say it. I love you too. We will get out of this. I will tell Fowler what happened, that it was self-defence. He will likely give us a pass. Perkins will be pissed, but the guy has zero authority and Fowler hates him. We will be fine, okay?’ Nines shook his head. ‘It won’t. I killed, Gavin.’ ‘You did and so did I on the job. Let’s just say that we will never, ever take a mission like this again.’ ‘I can’t Gavin, Sixty-‘ ‘Sixty’s feelings are his problem. They’ll just send more people. Also, I highly doubt your psycho little brother wouldn’t get Allen out on his own. Only you are important at the moment. And you will be fine. Come on now, let’s get out of here.’

They had barely made it back to the precinct and got Nines’ hands clean of blood and a new change of clothes, as shit hit the fan: Perkins marched up to Fowler’s office, who Gavin had already warned and informed of the situation. It didn’t take long for Fowler to stand up from his chair, so his table was the only barrier between him and the Federal Agent. Soon after the windows were frosted and all that was left was the muffled screaming coming from within.

Nines sunk deeper into his chair as Gavin tended to him, cleaning the joints of his fingers from blood. He had hit the asshole that had held Gavin hard enough to deactivate his artificial skin. Gavin should have been afraid, seeing Nines’ raw strength and fury, but all he could feel was worry. Yes, Nines could be shoved in the backseat by mindless programming that made him go full terminator, forcing him to fight until either everyone was dead, or he couldn’t function anymore. But when he was back in control, he was soft and polite and everything Gavin wasn’t. On their very first occasion the android had caught Gavin off-guard by reacting to his curses by apologising. He was the very first person that managed to make the precinct’s asshole feel sorry and ever since they had been the perfect team. More than that, actually, but they hadn’t told anyone they actually were in a relationship. Not yet, or maybe never.

It broke Gavin’s heart, he had forgotten for the longest time, seeing Nines like this. Ashamed of what he had done, full of regret and worrying for his future. Gavin couldn’t help but set the pipe cleaner aside and brush over his exposed knuckles. ‘It’s okay, Nines. It’s not your fault.’ ‘I know’, the android returned quietly. ‘But I should have known better.’ ‘We will next time’, the Detective reassured him. ‘If there is a-‘

‘There he is!’ The door of Fowler’s office opened, and Perkins hurried down the stairs, face red as a tomato. ‘There is the fucking killerbot you lunatics still let run free! What the fuck is wrong with you? Something malfunctioning? Some mis-wired connection? Or did you just finally decided to turn against humans, huh?’ Nines head dropped, and he pulled his hand out of Gavin’s. ‘I thought you were competent as they told me of Ferndale. But now I realised your damn precinct is just conspiring to keep a cold-blooded murderer in their midst!’ Perkins looked around the precinct that had fallen awfully quiet. ‘I guess it is convenient to have a tool to use when everything went to shit. Send the RK900, it will clear out an entire building, regardless of whether the people inside are criminals or civilians. We can always call on self-defence.’ He shook his head and leaned forwards, looking Nines straight in the eyes. ‘You know what? I think some of you would really have been better off being dismantled at the camps.’

Gavin had watched the whole conversation going down in shock. For once in his life he was missing the words to tell Perkins to fuck off. Because there were no words that would accurately describe what cold hatred he was feeling at that very moment. Silence stretched and with horror, Gavin saw how Nines nodded and hid his hands against his body.

That was it.

‘Perkins, you lousy excuse of a human being!’, he whispered, but in the dead silence of the precinct it was more effective than a scream. ‘You. Goddamn… Phck, I don’t have words for it. What is your twisted mind like that you think you can just say something like this? This android saved my life. And I specifically told you not to take him with you on the mission. But surprise: You cocksure bastard thought I was just some idiot that can be ignored. This is entirely on your poor judgement and you can’t weasel your way out of that!’ Gavin had to take a break to breath as the tension inside his body had made him talk a lot faster than healthy. Perkins used it to open his mouth, but before a word left his throat, Gavin was already back at it: ‘I don’t phcking care what the hell you have to say. You won’t get another chance at insulting my boyfriend, who just went through an event that was traumatic. But you didn’t think of that, right? Not even for a minute, you wasted a thought on putting yourself in his shoes. How do you think it feels to be shoved out of your own body because some asshole thought it would be fun to design a killing machine? You don’t know the first thing about the love of my life, this precinct or our past. So, I would greatly advise you to shut up, leave this precinct and go eat a double decker dick sandwich!’

Once again silence fell, and Gavin knew everyone including Fowler was looking at him. He didn’t care. Not one bit. He could only stare at Perkins unblinking, challenging him to back off. But he didn’t. Of course, he didn’t. ‘Or what?’, he asked with a sly grin. ‘You gonna let your rabid dog off the leash?’ Gavin didn’t hesitate. He had planned this for a while now and he really, really didn’t care anymore. He stepped back and took a swing at Perkins, landing his fist perfectly against his brow and nose to make him stumble back and holding his laceration at the temple. ‘Believe me, that you already did by insulting him. You shouldn’t fear Nines. I am the one that will kick your ass out of here if you are not leaving in the next five seconds.’ ‘You can’t be serious-‘ Gavin hit him again. The fact that no one had yet dared to stand up and intervene meant that most were on his side here. The Detective leaned down to him and whispered once again: ‘Five seconds. Leave. Now.’

Perkins snarled at him, but Gavin’s already lifted fist was enough to convince him in the end and he ran towards the exit, shouting something like: ‘This isn’t over yet!’

Gavin couldn’t keep himself upright any longer and slumped against his table, slowly sinking to the ground. ‘Phck. I just punched a Federal Agent. I’m so damn screwed.’ He let his head fall into his hands. Then there was another one in front of his face, offering to help him up. It was Hank, Connor next to him. Nines was standing at his side too but looked more worried than comforting. ‘Don’t worry, Reed’, Hank laughed. ‘I did that too, once. Was actually quite satisfying as you might know now.’ ‘Yeah. I can still prepare to get my stuff and search for a new job now.’ ‘Don’t think so. You should have seen Fowler’s face. Don’t worry.’

Gavin turned around and looked Nines up and down, who in the end just stepped forwards and pulled Gavin in a strong hug. ‘Wanted to congratulate you two’, Gavin heard Connor’s distant voice. ‘Didn’t know you two were together.’ Both Nines and Gavin froze and looked at each other. ‘What?’ ‘You said he was your boyfriend.’ ‘I… did?’ ‘Yep.’

Gavin looked at Nines face that just pleaded him to go home and hold each other in the safety of their bedroom. It made him smile in contentment, because honestly, he would love to do that. ‘Yeah. I love him more than anything.’

[>next part]

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #God I loved writing this #I honestly thought I forgot to write but it worked out in the end #I want to write so much more #I have no idea how I will survive this hiatus but oh well...#I guess this counts as #the feels

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dreamingofmilk · 4 years

Text

SugarBabe

Word count 2.1k

Summary: What would it be like if Erik was your boss and you were both stuck in a really tough spot.

This is for @marvelmaree and her birthday challenge.

Another email buzzed into your phone, your fingers anxiously twitched around it desperate to answer and solve all your problems. But it was never that easy.

You were a headstrong and independent woman who always strives to take care of yourself without the help of anyone. You didn’t need anyone to take care of you, but the situation you were in right now made you consider otherwise.

You made phone call after phone call and nothing was working and soon you would be flat on your butt with nothing but your dream job to keep you up. But it really didn’t matter because in the end you would get everything figured out and back on your feet.

For right now you’d focus on your boss and helping him shop for his upcoming business trip. You were supposed to meet your boss Erik Stevens in the watch shop about ten minutes ago but you were a bit weighed down with all the bags you were carrying.

You stopped to rest on a bench, you had a few work calls to make anyway. A loud sigh of relief escaping your lips when the weight of the back. You were just catching your breath when you heard a chuckle come from the stand in front of you.

“It’s okay to ask for help. There’s no reason a young lady like you should be carrying all those bags by herself.” The older man smiled kindly at you. You smiled back and quickly got up from the bench, you didn’t have to explain yourself to anyone. Erik offered to join you to pick up his online orders, but you assured him that his time was better spent on the conference call that he wrapped up ten minutes ago, and that the bags wouldn’t be too much for you to handle on your own.

Eventually you make it to the watch shop, and made eye contact with Erik as you entered the shop loudly with all the bags in your petite hands. Erik’s eyes roll over your form, his jaw clenching as he sees the amount of bags in your possession. He quickly marches over to you and snatches the bags from you. Picking them up effortlessly he bends down to whisper in your ear.

“Next time, we go together.” His anger is thick and understandable, you quickly look away from his eyes and nod. Silence seems like the best response at the moment.

You stand behind Erik to watch him pick out another sharp looking watch. It was his obsession, he loved his watches. Sometimes he would send you to go get them cleaned or fixed but most times he’d rather go himself, regardless of how busy he was.

As his personal assistant he demanded you tag along, especially when times were busy like today. Most of the time he liked having you around for the company, but also because he says having a beautiful girl like you on his arm warded off the desperate attempts some women took to shoot their shot.

Erik was a well known CEO of a huge engineering firm, frequently recognized by business magazines and publications, he easily became one of the western world's most sought after bachelors. So it’s no surprise that women recognized him sometimes and approached him when they felt necessary.

Erik held conferences, did interviews, and held charity galas all the time, working for him paid well, and he treated his employees with respect and cherished anyone who worked hard with him. You admired him and truly enjoyed working for such a determined man.

Erik finished up with the clerk and got his items wrapped up. While waiting he watched how you nervously kept checking your phone. The nervous tick of biting your bottom lip was a dead giveaway. After 5 years of working together Erik knew you well. He could tell when things were bothering you, he trusted you to tell him the truth about his company and a lot of the decisions he made. So any look of unease had him on alert as it usually signaled something that could be a problem with the company.

Annnnd he had a bit of a crush on you, he knew you had a crush on him too, but it was quietly determined that the two of you would not pursue it. The mutual attraction was obvious between the two of you, but you worked hard to bury it deep. Mainly because you worked so well together.

Erik grabbed your chin gently, his thumb forcing you to release your bottom lip. You looked up at him with your eyes wide as saucers. The grip on your phone tightened when you noticed Erik lick his lips staring down at you.

“What’s the matter?” Erik nodded towards your phone. You were a bit shook and quickly pulled yourself out of his grip and closed your phone pocketing it and smiling up at your boss.

“Nothing! Are we ready to go?”

Erik’s eyes squinted at you and nodded as he held up his packaged watches. You lead the way out of the store and towards his car. He put the bags in the trunk and you quickly hopped into the passenger seat after he opened it for you. You quietly murmured thank you and pulled out your work phone to see what was next on the agenda for the day.

Erik has a huge business deal coming up that required his travel to Singapore. Normally you’d travel with him for deals as big as this one, but this one was so important that he would be gone for about 2-3 weeks, maybe having to be back and forth a bit longer if everything went really well… or really bad. This trip required a lot of preparation on his part and yours and he left in two days, so it’s imperative that he complete his travel shopping today.

Erik climbs into the driver's seat and pulls off from the curb.

“Okay you have an appointment at Grisham Mall for those suits, then-“ Erik cut you off and held his hand out for your phone.

“Give it to me.” His voice is deep and rough. You go to hand him your work phone confusion etched on your face. “The other one.” His eyes cut towards you. “I’m not playing with you.” Your brain shorts. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, you were used to Erik’s moods and for the most part they turned you on more than anything.

“Why! It’s not that deep Erik.”

“Then give me the fucking phone so I can see what’s got you so nervous. Or you could just tell me.” Erik’s face was serious, he could always tell when you were trying to keep things from him.

You sigh and hand over your phone with the email detailing your eviction from your apartment.

Erik’s face got tighter as he read the email, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

“How did this happen?” He glanced briefly at you.

“I think someone stole my identity.” The words slip from your mouth, you’d been trying to handle it on your own this entire time, but things were worse than you perceived them to be.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply, his frustration clear. "How long has this been going on?"

"About a month." You shrunk a bit under his intense gaze, embarrassed to give him the answer.

"You've been dealing with this for a whole month and didnt say anything?" Erik knew you were headstrong and independent, he just never knew how deep that went.

You shrugged, "I'm handling it. I just need to talk to my leasing office and ask for an extension on rent. It's nothing to worry about."

Erik chuckled, mocking you under his breath. “Nothing to worry about” Erik grabbed your wrist, "The hell it is." He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a black Amex card.

"Here, pay your rent and everything else with this. I'll get Marcus on the phone and have him figure out who stole your identity." He flicked the card at you like it was a $10 Walmart gift card. You instinctively tried to push it back to him, but thought better of it when you saw the glare on his face. It's best to pick your battles with Erik and now was definitely not a good time to argue with him. He hates when you hide big things from him.

You grabbed the card and gave him a small but genuine smile, the relief and frustration fought for domination on your face. "Thank you so much Erik. I promise I'll pay you back."

"Don't worry about it. It's nothing."

You shook your head vigorously. "Bullshit! I'm paying you back one way or another."

Erik rolled his eyes, but he didn't argue. You made your way to the mall. Erik was on the phone giving Marcus a rundown of your situation so he could get started. The two of you made it to the next mall to pick up the suits. Shortly after he hung up, his phone rang again.

He greeted them with a simple "Erik." You couldn't help but eavesdrop, hey some could say it was part of your job, especially when Erik's face quickly morphed into shock.

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" He said.

There was a bit more conversation. “Why the hell did no one see this being an issue earlier. I specifically asked what were their core values!!” Erik's face grew more frustrated as it continued before he said a quick goodbye and hung up.

"Is everything ok? Did something go wrong with the Singapore trip?" You waited a few moments before asking.

"That was Jeff. He was able to do the values and moral eval on the owners and it's about what we expected, except for the part where they truly believe a businessman needs to be married and involve his wife in the processes of the business. They like the idea of a family guy basically.” Erik rolled his eyes. “Some bullshit about how there might be another competitor with values that line up more. Jeff's suggesting I need to find a fake wife for the trip to stay in their good graces. How the fuck am I going to find someone suitable in 2 weeks?" Erik pinched the bridge of his nose, his nostrils flaring in frustration.

You immediately started racking your brain sifting through all of the women you knew who could maybe handle the job. It had to be someone who knew their way around a company, even better if they had experience in the types of mergers Erik did. They had to get along with Erik- which was pretty difficult once he got to know them- enough to convince the owners that it was a real marriage. They had to be free during the 2-3 week period he would be in Singapore, and be able to do all of this under short notice. Not to mention all of the other factors like facilitating business meetings, building rapport, etc.

Erik suddenly stopped walking, and you were so deep in thought that you ran into his broad back, almost knocking yourself to the floor.

He quickly wrapped an arm around your waist to steady you, pulling you close to his side. He smelled so damn good!

"That's it! I don't know why I didn't see it sooner!" Erik smiled brightly.

"See what?" You tilted your head in confusion. He smiled softly and moved a few pieces of your hair back into place. "You can be my wife. You know everything about the company, we've been working together for years so we won't have to worry about that. It's perfect!"

The thought of it alone brought a euphoria you've never felt before, which was terrifying. There's no way you'd be able to handle pretending to be Erik's wife! You barely held it together working alongside him these past few years.

You shook your head, "Erik, I'm sure there's someone else who would work better for this. Plus someone is going to have to handle your day to day operations while you're gone."

He smirked, "I'll have Gina take that over, no problem. Besides, weren't you just talking about how you were going to pay me back? Do this for me and I'll consider us even. Think of it as overtime."

Damn, he had a point. You would just have to guard yourself during this trip then. You can't allow yourself to get caught up. He was right though. He's done so much for you, it'd be nice to be able to help him out for once.

You looked into his eyes and nodded.

"Ok. I'll be your wife."

Taglist:

@aislinnsilver @marvelmaree @wawakanda-btch @chaneajoyyy

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banditthewriter · 5 years

Text

Dirty Work - Billy Russo - 2

The storm let up a bit, so getting this posted while I can!

I’m so glad that you all seemed to enjoy the first part of this story. It feels good to be posting again.

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif is mine*

Enjoy!

*****

There was a quiet knock on the door that drew your attention away from the file you were updating. After a moment, you heard another one.

"Coming, coming," you mumbled as you put your laptop on the coffee table and headed across the living room.

Through the peephole, you saw a familiar sight. You opened the door and smiled. Billy was leaning against the wall with a smirk. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the collar of his jacket to pull him into the condo.

"You're late," you complained as you gave him a kiss.

"I told you I was working late tonight," he reminded you with a laugh as you burrowed into his chest.

Things with Billy had been complicated at first. Your past had stuck with you, between the two of you, for the longest time. It took a couple of weeks to get to a point where you weren't walking on eggshells around each other anymore.

The way it worked was by keeping the conversations off of your pasts and your brother.

That rage that welled up sometimes got quiet once more. You found yourself leaning on Billy, found yourself comforted by his presence.

Months passed from the night at the bar. Months in which you and Billy slowly got closer. Exchanged keys, spent more time with each other than apart. It was as easy as breathing for both of you.

"You almost done with your files?"

You groaned and pulled your head back to face him.

"I still have like six more to go through. I'm just trying to get a jump ahead so that I don't have to do it all at the office tomorrow."

You let him lead you over to the couch. He flopped down next to you, tugging you into his chest after he shed his jacket and tie.

"I've got that big client coming up. I'll be working long nights," he said quietly as he dragged his fingers over your arm. "You gonna be okay without me?"

"On all those lonely nights? Hm, I wonder," you teased as you turned your head to give him a kiss. "You might have to show me what I'll be missing or I might lose interest."

Billy gave a wicked grin before he tugged you onto his lap.

------

The morning light trickled through the blinds into the bedroom. You stretched out, enjoying the feeling of the heat on your skin.

Then you snapped back to reality. There was a reason you were alone this morning when usually you woke up before Billy and could snuggle into him until his alarm went off.

Today was your brother's birthday. Billy hadn't mentioned the day by name or significance, but he had told you that he would give you space today.

He'd probably do the same when the anniversary of Derek's death came around.

There had been a time that you blamed Billy for Derek's death. He may have pulled the trigger, may have been the reason Derek was gone, but it wasn't like Derek hadn't deserved it. He had become the very thing he had tried to protect the country against. He had become a terrorist.

When Derek had been in the service, you soon saw the flashes of him becoming disenfranchised with the military and the government. No one thought anything about it, chalked it up to being burned out. He was honorably discharged and struggled to stay on his feet after that.

Anvil had been a miracle. It gave him purpose, gave him structure. He seemed more like the brother you remembered. He worked with Anvil for almost six months before the shooting.

They had been protecting senators that were at some conference. You hadn't even known that your brother was on the detail until the news broke. Apparently he had slipped away and planned an assassination.

He knew it would end with his death. He had left a note, three short paragraphs in which he explained that the government was corrupted and it was in the best interest of the civilians for it to be handled by someone with training.

He had tried to ambush the convoy on the way to the conference. He shot more than a few members of Anvil and a few people who just happened to be in the way. It ended when someone put three bullets in your brother's chest.

Not someone. Billy. You were told who it was and his connection to the company. You also knew that he had been nursing a bullet wound to his thigh when he had jumped out of cover to end the shoot out before anyone else was hurt.

Billy had saved the lives of three senators, his men, and numerous innocent civilians. All it had taken was the death of one man who had become a radical without anyone noticing.

You didn't have to be alone today. You had thought about going to visit your mom, but every time you called her, she was too drunk to make sense. Honestly the drinking had started long before Derek, but his turn to domestic terrorism and subsequent death had put the nail in the coffin. Even if you called at nine in the morning, she would be drunk.

The part of you that blamed Billy for Derek's death had slipped away quietly a few weeks after you first found out who he was.

The death weighed on Billy. He blamed himself for not seeing that Derek had become unhinged and unsafe. He blamed himself for not ending it sooner, saving more lives.

He also knew that it was ultimately out of his hands. He reacted to the circumstances as they happened.

You sat up and looked over at the spot where Billy usually slept. That emptiness was already so foreign. Since things had started with the two of you, your life had gotten so tangled with Billy's.

There was a certain regret to the things you had thought and done when you first met Billy, before you realized you didn't blame him anymore. That regret sat quietly in your chest on days like this.

Your phone buzzed beside you and you picked it up curiously. A text from Billy.

Wanted to say good morning. Let me know if you need anything.

You smiled as you read the message again. This man was something else.

I appreciate that Billy. Good morning. Have a good day today.

Maybe it didn't make much sense, the two of you together. Maybe if other people knew about his connection with your brother's death, there would be concern and disdain from others.

All you knew was that you loved Billy.

------

You leaned back onto the couch a little more as you flipped through the magazine. The day had stretched on into a bit of a lazy day with nothing else to do after you visited Derek's grave.

As you started to contemplate the idea of breaking the no contact rule and calling Billy, your door slammed open. Surprise raced through you as you watched Billy storm into your condo.

"The only thing that gets banged like that in my house is me," you drolled as you flipped to the next page of the magazine.

“Not surprised to see me? Or did your guy tell you that he didn't succeed?”

That drew you up short. You looked up at Billy again, noting his mussed hair and the wild look in his eyes.

“My guy?”

You watched as his hand twitched at his side. It was then that you realized you could see the gentle glint of his knife, the one he wore on a release around his wrist. It looked like he had flicked it out but he didn't use it.

Were you the perceived threat here? Is that why he came armed?

“Whoever you used to try to kill me. He wasn't very good.”

To say that you were surprised didn't begin to cover it. But you also felt a rush of adrenaline down your spine. Maybe even fear. You put the magazine down. You stood up slowly, so as not to startle him.

“Why would I try to kill you? You're easily the best sex I've had in years," you said in a forced joking manner as you slowly crossed around the coffee table.

“Because sleeping with the enemy can only go for so long.”

There it was. It wasn't just what he said, but the resignation in his voice. You knew it was coming. Honestly you had waited for that comment for months.

With a shake of your head, you stopped right in front of where Billy stood.

“We aren't enemies Billy. What you did, you had to do. I'm not interested in underhanded, dirty business. If I wanted you dead, you'd know.” You walked over to him, ran your hands over his chest and shoulders. “Why kill you when I can fuck you instead?”

Billy grabbed you forcefully. The blade was pressed against your cheek for a brief second until he noticed it. Once he tore off the device on his wrist, he tossed it over his shoulder and then pulled you back against him.

You didn't even have a moment to say how you really felt about him, to remind him that you cared. He crashed his mouth against yours in a delicious friction, his arms around your waist and nearly crushing you to him.

You could feel a gun in his holster. The shirt was dark so you didn't see it at first, but there were obvious bullet holes and indents in the vest he wore under his jacket.

Immediately you were worried. Just a few inches higher and one of them would have gone through his neck. No vest would have saved him then.

“I can help you," you whispered as you pulled back to look up at him. "See who might have wanted the great Billy Russo killed. Then we can make sure they don't get a second chance.”

“I can do it myself," he defended as he stepped away, tearing away first his jacket and then the vest.

The structural integrity was compromised so you knew he'd just get rid of it, but looking at it on the ground made it all feel that more real.

He could have died. If he hadn't been wearing the vest, he would have died. He'd be gone.

Just like Derek.

“I know you can, but I'm taking this personally," you admitted as you looked back up at him. "I don't like that someone wanted to hurt you. I don't like that you thought it was me. I want to help.”

You watched as he stared at you. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head. He was always thinking, always planning. After a few moments, he gave a nod. When he turned as if to head towards the bathroom, probably to check for bruises from the bullets, you grabbed his hand and pulled him back to you.

"Let me show you how glad I am that you're still alive," you begged as you kisses his jaw once, twice.

He turned his head into the touch, his lips finding yours. As much as you wanted to show him you were glad he was alive, he needed it to prove that he was still alive.

And prove it he did. Once on the living room floor and two more times in bed.

------

Billy was asleep. The bruises were vivid on his chest already, but he had proven with great virility the night before that the pain wasn't too much for him to handle.

You pulled the blankets up over his hip after you placed a soft kiss to his bare shoulder. The clock on the table said it was almost three in the morning, so you quietly slipped from the bed.

The rest of the house was dark. You stepped over the vest that was still on the floor. On the coffee table was your cell phone. It still had some charge so you grabbed it and headed into the bathroom.

With the door shut and locked, you turned on the faucet in the tub and sat down on the lid of the toilet. One eye on the door knob, you dialed a number you had memorized a long time ago.

It rang three times before someone answered.

"Yes?"

You took a deep breath before you spoke.

"I'm calling about the hit I took out on Billy Russo."

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#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #my writing #dirty work

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ladyrealgar · 4 years

Text

Fandom: Lupin 3rd

Characters: Goemon Ishikawa XIII, Fujiko Mine

Warnings: None

Title: Wearing other's clothes

The pouring rain dripped from his headdress like a stream and his clothes were soaked, but the samurai, accustomed to much more hostile climates, hardly noticed. He hadn't even noticed the heating inside the museum, where he had gone to do an inspection dressed as a tourist.

He didn't like to dress up and even less to wear the western clothes that Lupin chose for him, but if it was for work he would have accepted it.

But now that the western clothes were stored in a backpack and that Zantetsuke had returned to swing meekly at his side to the rhythm of his steps, Goemon Ishikawa XIII felt much more comfortable.

Working with Lupin had led him to learn skills that his samurai training could not teach, such as tracing the map of a building's CCTV surveillance system just by looking and memorizing the cameras inside, or identifying the type of alarm system inside the display windows.

As a living embodiment of the concept of tradition, Goemon couldn't even have imagined that one day he would have been able to do all of this and that was one of the aspects he preferred in working with the gentleman thief.

The rain had not stopped falling for a moment all the way from the museum to their hiding place and when Goemon had opened the door of the apartment at his feet a pool of water formed.

He listened for a moment to the noises of the house: during his training, he had been taught to perceive the presence of potential opponents before his eyes could see them.

Not that he expected anyone to find their hiding place, last of all Zenigata, who was their most stubborn pursuer, but it was a habit that always resulted to be useful in the past.

He didn't perceive the smell of Lupin's colony nor that of Jigen's cigarettes, which were usually enough to announce the presence of his associates, and no sound, except for the ticking of the rain on the glass, reached his ears.

His shoulders relaxed, while his mind reassured him that he was the only one present in the apartment.

So he decided to take a hot shower to get rid of the humidity from the outside waiting for his colleagues to finish their duties and join him in the apartment.

As he ran the water from the modern shower, Goemon sighed at the thought of the thermal waters of the springs in the mountains where he had immersed himself only a few weeks before.

Modernity certainly could not offer anything comparable to the feeling of being surrounded by sulphurous water and regenerating vapors among the landscapes of the Japanese mountains.

It was a quick shower, just long enough to wash his skin and hair, and the samurai came out, wrapping his waist with a towel. Only then he noticed that one of the towels that had been hung at the bathroom entrance was missing and his nerves stiffened: someone had entered the apartment.

He grabbed the faithful Zantetsuke, who had just sat outside the shower and tiptoed out of the bathroom to inspect the house.

He noticed almost immediately that the kitchen door was ajar and cursed against himself for not checking it earlier.

He bared the blade, which shone as cold as lightning that heralds a summer storm, and prepared to attack.

He took a long breath and kicked the kitchen door open, ready to engage in the fight, but what he saw left him with salt.

Fujiko sat at the kitchen table, reading a magazine and sipping hot tea.

The two stared at each other in surprise for that unexpected meeting, but then Goemon realized that he was only wearing a towel in front of a woman and the free hand ran to support that one piece of clothing.

Fujiko noticed his embarrassment and chuckled: -You mustn't be ashamed!- she told him, going back to drinking her tea -I certainly am enjoying the view.

At those words the samurai felt his face and ears heating up and ran out of the kitchen in search of his clothes, while the woman continued to read as if nothing had happened.

A few moments later Goemon returned to the kitchen, making himself presentable with a change of kimono and hakama, to face Fujiko.

He found her where he left her: -What are you doing here? - he asked.

-I have been surprised by the rain- the woman explained, turning a page of her magazine with her long fingers with perfectly manicured nails -And since your hiding place was on the way I thought I'd have given myself a refresh.

Goemon looked at her from head to foot for a moment, noticing the turban made with the missing towel that wrapped her hair and the white dressing gown that covered her body.

At a second glance, however, that dressing gown seemed very familiar to him: -Is that my kimono? - asked the samurai, pointing to the piece of clothing in question.

-You say this? - said Fujiko widening the edges of the dressing gown and thus showing a few centimeters more than the generous neckline.

Goemon felt a blaze again but he forced himself to keep his gaze and not give her the satisfaction of seeing him give in: -Yes- he nodded at last.

-It's just a little thing that I borrowed- replied the thief, better accommodating the long legs on the chair so that the kimono just covered the bare minimum and left them in view -You have always had such good taste in dressing! I certainly couldn't take one of Jigen's shirts, don't you think?

-What happened to your clothes? - Goemon urged her, feeling flattered by the comment on his good taste: all the clothes he wore were made to measure by a seamstress who had made clothes for her father and was proud of that.

Obviously he didn't say any of this to Fujiko.

-Don't get upset- the thief smiled, deliberately causing the opposite effect -They are drying in the living room in front of the dehumidifier. In a few minutes they will be ready.

The samurai nodded slightly, but his assertiveness was only apparent: years of work and experience had made him wary in front of Fujiko's presence and if that woman was in their apartment it couldn't have been only because of the onset of rain.

-What are you aiming at? - he asked calmly.

-It's like to hear Jigen and, my dear Goemon, I assure you that it is not a compliment- Fujiko tried to digress, but before the determination of the samurai, apparently impassive in front of her charm, she had to empty the bag -You really thought you were going to embark on the project of the theft of Maria Luigia's jewelry collection without involving me? - a large mischievous smile opened on her face -Lupin will have to give me explanations for having ousted me from the plan and, of course, I want a slice of the loot.

The samurai smiled: -In short, the usual courtesy visit.

That comment left Fujiko speechless: - Was that a joke?- she asked, but the samurai was already gone from the kitchen.

His voice came to her ears from the other room: - Make sure Lupin finds you with your clothes on or he will get the wrong idea and neither of us will see a piece of Maria Luigia's jewels.

Hi! This is a little work to improve my English writing skills (so please be free to make corrections and comments about the structure and the grammar) and to give my contribution to the Fandom. This should be the first of a bunch of oneshots involving different characters from the lupin III fandom.

#lupin iii #lupin 3rd #fanfiction #goemon ishikawa xiii #fujiko mine #oneshot

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foxghost · 5 years

Text

鎮魂 Guardian [Zhen Hun] extra 3 full translation

No real spoilers in this one, just fluff and crack. [TN: the other extras are here, you may want to check out #4 for notes on names.] Original Chinese character count: 4363 English Translation + notes word count: 4042

===

Later, the Special Investigation Department moves away from 4 Bright Road to 9 University Road, just one pedestrian crossing away from Dragon City University.

Lin Jing lingers at their old address just before the move, reluctant to leave and goes around and around the empty office with his recently upgraded equipment — a long barrel SLR camera — and photographs every last detail; not even the cobwebs escapes his scrutiny. When he’s done, Lin Jing picks out the few he’s satisfied with and sends them to a magazine publisher, hoping to make a name for himself in the “Former Haunts” series.

Thus leading to the editor-in-chief of the magazine suffering a great blow to his delicate psyche.

The editor-in-chief ends up in the hospital over the incident, and reporting what they perceived as a 'malignant, intentional manufacturing of supernatural photographs for the purpose of scaring people" to the police. As familial shame cannot be spread abroad, Zhao-chu can only show his face and quietly settle things behind the scenes. When he comes back, he beats the crap out of that idiot fake monk in the path of his innocent gaze.

Eat, sleep, beat Lin Jing; the crew at 9 University Road finally fall back into their ordinary, everyday routine.

The accommodation at their new office is decadent to the extreme, with a sunny attic upstairs and a double cellar below. The second cellar houses their book collection, while the first cellar is a shrine-like space with a mahjong table surrounded by a circle of memorial tablets. During the day it provides a resting place for their ghost employees, and any individual suffering from insomnia can get up and play a round of mahjong.

… And so, during the day, one can often hear the sound of shuffling mahjong tiles from the mysteriously locked first cellar.

On the top floor, the attic is warm and bright with sunshine, painted with a thick layer of soundproofing paint; those who are tired can take a noon nap, and opening the windows affords one the view of the whole courtyard — unfortunately there is no beautiful scenery to be had.

Since members of the S.I.D. could not come to an agreement regarding a plan for the garden, there’s no unified theme. After they divided up the space, the courtyard has become a weird mixture of styles containing a little bit of everything.

Zhao Yunlan claims the entire rear courtyard for himself. With an oddly cultivated aesthetic that has nothing at all to do with the arts that he’s ignored his whole life through, he vetoes Zhu Hong’s favoured Japanese roses, vetoes Chu Shuzhi’s suggestion of vines, vetoes Lin Jing’s request of a Bodhi tree … ultimately planting an entire rear courtyard worth of vegetables.

There’s mini cole, cherry tomatoes, pumpkin seedlings, pea sprouts, Chinese cedar sprouts … a veritable neighbourhood of assorted vegetables growing side by side. In the middle of it all stands a coquettish eggplant surrounded by all the other plants the way stars surround the moon.

[TN: 風騷茄子 / Coquettish Eggplant is a dish…this ia a pun.]

Zhao Yunlan hints that come winter he’ll even fill the entire rear courtyard with bok choi.

From then onwards, neither mortal nor ghost has played in the rear courtyard that has become a vegetable garden.

By the time Shen Wei finishes class, the sun has already begun inclining towards the west. It’s still warm outside, and the short stroll from school even counting the time it takes to wait for the light to change is only five, six minute at most.

The entire staff of the S.I.D. each holds a copy of Teacher Shen’s class schedule. They wait eagerly for his arrival daily as one watches for the stars and the moon. There was once a time that the soldiers skipping out on work along with the leader was routine, because when the ceiling beams are crooked the pillars came along; since their leader Zhao Yunlan stopped messing around and started calmly spending all his days in the office like a hermit though, those days are long gone.

In this respect, everyone feels a little depressed, even in light of their new surroundings.

Yet when Teacher Shen arrives he can always swiftly take the leader away. And if the leader is gone, naturally it implies that everyone else can leave work early as well.

As he steps through the door, Shen Wei is greeted by countless “good day Teacher Shen” and “good work Teacher Shen” and many more besides along with such fervent looks from everyone that it’s borderline like the staff are held in enemy territory awaiting a liberating army. Shen Wei finds it hard to adapt to this at first, but as time goes by he’s no longer fazed by all the attention.

Guo Changcheng is zoning out, Zhu Hong is doing some online stopping, Chu Shuzhi is watching the candlestick graph, Lin Jing is tinkering with a new model of wiretapping device: a fish scale-like thing the size of a girl’s fingernail that turns invisible and records in secret once it sticks to anything.

Black cat Daqing nests on the staircase handrail, waving his tail at Shen Wei. “He’s in the attic.”

Shen Wei makes an approving hum, nods as he says “Thank you,” but when he’s just about to pass by, he lifts a brow slightly and glances at Daqing. “Be careful, don’t fall off now.”

… The handrail only looks half as big as Daqing’s stomach. The way he’s lying prone on top of it looks extremely weird.

Daqing stares blankly for a full second, then with a wail he turns into an angry furball. “I’m practicing—Yo—ga! What’s wrong with practicing yoga? You got a problem with that?”

Keeping a smile on his face, Shen Wei reaches out to stroke his head, and goes upstairs.

Daqing furiously drapes himself back down on the handrail. Lin Jing asks, teasing, “Aiyoh, little princeling Daqing, which yoga pose are you practicing?”

Daqing says after a pause, “Cat pose.”

Those who follow the Way never lies, so goes the doctrine. Lin Jing appropriately shows his evaluation with a peal of laughter.

… As a result he gained two new bloody scratches on his face. The wiretap in his hand goes flying towards destination unknown, turning invisible.

Lao-Li, who’s always appearing without a sound and vanishing without a trace, appears now to quietly supply cotton swabs and bandages as if he’s the hapless master responsible for the aftermath of his cat’s crimes. Yet the cat has no appreciation for his love at all, and doesn’t bother with even a snort as he jumps off the railing into a cat stretch and leaving the scene.

There are times when such a thing as love is like a fragile pane of glass. It doesn’t matter what kind of love it is: nothing can glue it back together after it shatters, even if the ones involved no longer cared, even if they have already chosen to forgive.

That’s why a person should be faithful to oneself unto death. Whether choosing to be so selfish as to hurt countless without regrets, or to cherish another’s affection from the beginning, even at the risk of looking like a fool.

Shen Wei pushes open the door to the top floor lightly. There’s a sofa bed in the attic situated for a full day of sunlight, and Zhao Yunlan naps there with a blanket thrown across his waist, fingers still trapped between the pages of a book in his hands.

Shen Wei approaches quietly, stooping to kiss him lightly on the lips. Zhao Yunlan doesn’t bother opening his eyes, he hums lazily with sleep and says, “You’re done with class?”

Shen Wei answers with an agreeing noise, reaching out to prop up Zhao Yunlan by his back so he can sit down. “Wake up a little. It’s not early anymore, and if you fall asleep again you won’t be able to sleep later.”

Zhao Yunlan takes advantage of the shift in position to lie down on Shen Wei’s thighs. Yawning, he says blearily, “I didn’t actually want to sleep.”

With half-lidded eyes he waves the “Vegetable Planting Techniques” in his hands and grumbles, “I’m telling you, this book has to be cursed. I can’t ever get to the first chapter. Just the forward is enough to knock someone out. I only made it to the 8th page now and I’m still stuck in the introduction.”

Shen Wei picks it up and flips through its pages. It’s a textbook from the agricultural university, and not a single centimetre of white space is wasted — even the pictures are black and white and so serious it has no entertainment value whatsoever. Shen Wei puts it aside and says without thinking, “Why do you bother reading it? If luck’s on their side, whichever seed you sow may even chance into a refined essence and become Yao. There is no chance that any of them wouldn’t grow.”

Zhao Yunlan says, “No, only science and technology is the primary productive force.”

[TN. he’s quoting fundamental principle of Marxism here so that’s why SW makes fun of him.]

Shen Wei says after a pause, “Why don’t you go back to study science and technology then.”

Zhao Yunlan rolls his eyes, and harbouring ulterior motives, says, “The primary productive force and I are jinxed. It reduces me to sleep in a single glance.”

[TN. 犯克 roughly means “it disagrees with my birth hour.” So it does mean jinxed, but with him ONLY.]

Shen Wei looks down, discovering that whatever sleepiness in Zhao Yunlan’s pitch black eyes have already evaporated, and they stare up at him with wordless amusement.

Zhao Yunlan reaches around so he’s holding Shen Wei by the waist. “If I can’t keep reading, then I’ll forget my meals, my mood will plunge, and if it goes on any longer I’ll fall into a depression!”

Shen Wei just looks at him without saying a word.

One lie after another comes out of Zhao Yunlan’s mouth. “Listen, the suicide rate is really high in Northern Europe because the cold climate leads to depression. Kunlun mountain is covered in ice and snow that never melts — it doesn’t even have heat, so my bones must carry the genes for depression.”

Shen Wei is silent for a time before saying, “You must forgive my inability to see this.”

Zhao Yunlan says, “You must not love me anymore! You … man of easy virtue!”

[TN. ZYL says SW has a “nature as ever changing as running water and alights on all like flower petals,” and it’s usually a phrase meaning ‘fickle woman.’]

Shen Wei pushes at his temple as if to hold back a headache. “Stop acting so spoiled. What would you like?”

Zhao Yunlan laughs a mischievous laugh, revealing a row of neat white teeth.

“Fine. I’ll read it to you when we get home,” Shen Wei says, helplessly gentle, before uncomfortably averting his gaze. “But if you’re going to listen, then be good and listen. If you get drowsy listening then sleep. You’re not allowed to mess around.”

His ears are taking on a flush, and he looks like a half-willing young bride that’s just been picked on by an evil tyrant taking liberties, only half-willing because he’s left without a choice.

Zhao Yunlan grabs hold of Shen Wei’s collar indignantly and pulls him closer. “Can I trouble you not to be such a pure white lotus okay baby? From the fucking moment we met 'til now have I ever successfully taken a single dime of advantage of you … fine I’ll admit I’ve had more criminal attempts, but I haven’t any criminal reality!”

Shen Wei hastens to placate him. “Okay okay okay, get up. Let’s go home.”

“I can’t.” Zhao Yunlan turns his face to the side, expressionless. “The muscles in my lower back are strained.”

Shen Wei says softly, bashful, “Then should I carry you?”

Zhao Yunlan takes a look at him in silence, and stands up in silence. He finds that his back doesn’t hurt at all anymore — but he does feel a pang in his stomach.

As soon as they step through the front door, the rest of the staff scatter like birds and beasts. Zhu Hong’s the first to slip out, with Lin Jing closely following. Chu Shuzhi pours himself a cup of cheap tea, holding fast until the stock market closes before leisurely putting things away. As he’s about to go he raises his head to discover that Guo Changcheng still hasn’t left yet.

[TN. 茶水 / cha shui / lit. tea water / cheap tea is the kind of tea you get in diners, usually ceylon, comes in a plastic cup, made with cheaper leaves and brewed bulk in a metal dispenser.]

The room is empty save for them. Guo Changcheng sitting there staring into space without a word looks like a painted stage set, dazed to distraction. Chu Shuzhi asks casually, “Why haven’t you left yet?”

As if shaken from a dream, Guo Changcheng trembles violently and bumps the water-dwelling plant, spilling it all over his desk.

Chu Shuzhi subconsciously reaches for his own face; suspecting that maybe he’s been slack in the cultivation of his arts and his livor-mortis is showing, somehow managing to scare this unfortunate child until he’s beside himself.

Guo Changcheng stammers, “I um I’m leaving,” and cleans up in a flurry of activity.

Chu Shuzhi can read body language well enough, so he asks, “Are you planning to go bomb a bunker? Why do you look like you’re going to war?”

If Guo Changcheng has a pair of dog ears, he guesses now they would be drooping.

Twenty minutes later, the two emerge from 9 University Road with Chu Shuzhi furrowing his brow and coming to a conclusion. “That is to say, your second uncle wants you to go to a xiangqin.”

[TN. 相親 / Xiangqin. A marriage interview arranged by a matchmaker. A direct equivalent is the Japanese o-miai. The characters mean mutual-intimacy.]

A spray of sparks explodes out of Guo Changcheng’s pocket.

Chu Shuzhi quickly sidesteps. “Watch it. What’s with the groundless worry? Is this girl you’re meeting a tigress?”

To avoid setting his pants on fire, Guo Changcheng hurriedly takes the stun baton out of his pocket, but that only attracts the attention of passersby instead; they don’t even manage to make it to the parking lot before the traffic cop at the crosswalk yells at them, “What’s going on? You can’t set off fireworks within city limits! Where’s your sense of civic responsibility?”

Chu Shuzhi silently covers his face and pretends to look up at the sky.

The lich king is reclusive and detached; aside from the occasional garrulous words he exchanges with acquaintances, his entire person gives off an aura of do not approach， so he’s often lonely in the cold emptiness of his life. Outside of cultivating his essence, he has little to do in the long hours outside of work, leaving his well-hidden desire to gossip eternally unsatisfied. He feels a sudden curiosity of how this human custom of xiangqin is conducted, and with a tone like he’s volunteering to join a war, he says, “Ok, stop spraying fireworks. You’ll get a fine. Why don’t we do this — I’ll sit by you pretending to be just another customer the whole time for your xiangqin, alright?”

[TN. 屍王 / lit. corpse king. I suppose it could also read “necromancer” but he’s a corpse himself, so closer to a lich.]

Guo Changcheng gives him a tortured look, and from Chu Shuzhi’s solemn face he can just glean a hint of the curiosity of a gossiping fishwife.

They arrive more than thirty minutes earlier than the appointed time, and it’s only after Chu Shuzhi flip through an entire old magazine to pass the time before the girl arrives.

Chu Shuzhi looks on as Guo Changcheng freezes solidly into a human stick, and thinks with some amazement that he hasn’t seen a mortal with such great potential to become a jianshi for many years.

[TN. 人棍 / human stick is actually a brutal ancient torture that’s best not described here. CSZ uses some harsh language in his head…

殭屍 / Jiangshi / what Chu Shuzhi is, is a culturally unique mythological creature that originated from the way undertakers were said to have ordered corpses to jump as they led the dead back to their hometowns for burial. Depending on the telling, they eat flesh, drink blood, sleep in coffins, fear the sun, and only in some stories do they have minds of their own.]

Chu Shuzhi moves his gaze downwards, finding Guo Changcheng’s pant cuffs shaking uncontrollably, his entire body resembling a quail that found itself falling heavily on its ass on broken glass. He congratulates himself for confiscating Guo Changcheng’s little stun baton beforehand, otherwise he’s sure the young lady’s perfectly ironed straight fringe would have been fried immediately into natural curls.

“Oh, come on. Grow up,” Chu Zhushi thinks, feeling rather disappointed on his behalf.

Fortunately, the young lady has a good temperament, and doesn’t go on Weibo on the spot to start a post titled, “Ran into someone outrageous at the xiangqin” as a souvenir. Instead she confidently attempts to keep the conversation going by cycling through a list of seemingly endless topics. From the start Guo Changcheng acts exactly like a criminal at a trial, whatever question thrown his way he must tremble thrice, all the while sending a continuous distress signal in Chu Shuzhi’s direction. Unfortunately Chu Shuzhi feigns interest in the menu and is utterly unreceptive.

Ten minutes of trembling later, the lady finally can’t help asking, “You … are you a little nervous?”

Guo Changcheng, red all over, nods at her.

The lady smiles a little. “It’s not important. We’re only having a casual chat.”

Guo Changcheng, still red all over, nods again, and carefully gives her a single glance before looking extremely ill at ease, turning his gaze away.

Normally when coming across someone that can’t even speak clearly, the other side would flip desk and leave, but this young lady who’s come to this xiangqin seem to have an odd weakness. Facing someone like Guo Changcheng, a sense of protectiveness inexplicably grows in her heart.

“I think you’re just like Raj from the Big Bang Theory,” she says happily. “Especially cute — my aunt says you’re a police officer. Really?”

Guo Changcheng makes a sound of agreement that comes off like a mosquito’s hum.

The lady says, “Really! I can’t tell at all. Then what do you do normally when you meet a bad person?”

Guo Changcheng spends a moment recalling, then truthfully illustrates just how he catches ‘bad people.’ He makes a clawing gesture, pretending to pick up his ‘secret weapon’ and says, “Just like this, and I tell, tell it, ‘you you you you you can’t come over here,’ and then I catch them.”

The lady stares at him blankly a second, and realising that it’s possibly a joke, she laughs, swaying back in forth in her mirth. “You’re just too cute!”

With naive eyes Guo Changcheng stares at her, utterly clueless.

Chu Shuzhi watches with his cheek in his hand and all the coolness of a bystander. When he thinks back on what they actually get up to during work, he does manage to find a hint of what one may call ‘adorkable.’ As he takes another look at the still happy girl and the utterly out-of-form Guo Changcheng, he glances at his watch. It’s starting to feel rather dull sitting here.

But once these two start chatting they seem to go on and on; Chu Shuzhi reins in his impatience, takes out his phone and plays games for ages until his vision’s starting to blur and he can’t take anymore. He waves at the waiter, “Ready to order.”

The waiter diligently comes over only to hear Chu Shuzhi say in a quiet and eerie voice, “One order of Kung Pao chicken, make sure the meat is only three parts done and still bloody.”

The waiter is silent.

Guo Changcheng overhears this from across the room and immediate turn around to glance at Chu Shuzhi, recognizes the gloomy corpse-like scowl on the lich (corpse) king and finally realises that he’s gotten carried away.

But while he racks his brains trying to wrap up the conversation, the other side suddenly goes from easy to stern and says to him, “Oh, right, actually I still want to say that …”

She pauses then, as if what she wants to say may be too embarrassing to mention.

Guo Changcheng asks, “What is it?”

The lady stares down at her lap and seems to think for a moment before saying, “This is our first meeting, so it’s probably not appropriate for me to be saying this, but I really do like you quite a bit …”

Guo changcheng sits as straight and stiff as a red Songhum tree — even his eyes seem to turn vertical.

She continues to say, “So there is something I want to say before anything else. I didn’t really want to come here today at first because my aunt said you were a criminal police officer. I don’t think living with a cop is especially stable, really. Everyday I’d have to be on edge all the time thinking about how you are, and as time goes on,” she trails off then, sighing. “Is this line of work something you must do?”

Guo Changcheng stares blankly for a second, and before he’s able to answer, a hand grabs onto his shoulder without any warning, hauling him right up from his seat.

Guo Changcheng says, “Chu-ge?”

It’s too sudden for the lady at her xiangqing to react, and her gaze at Chu Shuzhi shows no reaction.

Chu Shuzhi gives her a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, before his attention shifts down towards Guo Changcheng, and he says with a tone that’s meant to cause confusion, “A Xiangqing behind my back? Why, you certainly have such gall!”

Guo Changcheng is shocked to silence.

What, what is this situation?

The lady’s eyes widen, captivated, completely in awe of the lich king’s aura and this utterly contrived plot. Chu Shuzhi reaches into Guo Changcheng’s pocket, digs out a few Renminbi bills and leaves them beneath a cup. Without another word of explanation, he stuffs Guo Changcheng beneath one arm and carries him out.

[TN. Renminbi, lit. The People’s money, the cash of the PRC.]

Guo Changcheng BSOD on scene and remains unresponsive until Chu Shuzhi stuffs him into the car. Chu Shuzhi stretches out his legs, and like an arrogant master of old, commands, “Start the car. Drop me off first.”

Guo Changcheng telegraphs ten thousand emotions tied up in knots in a single glance.

Chu Shuzhi says, “What are you glaring for, I’m doing this for her sake. To think she would dream up an idea like that, go digging at Kunlun-jun’s foundations. Really…”

[TN. 挖牆腳 - lit. dig at the foot of a wall. Applicable both in the case of someone seducing your husband or a competitor trying to lure away an employee.]

His speech halts, and a phrase comes to him unbidden like good fortune. He blurts out, "Stupid humans.

…Stupid human Guo Changcheng doesn’t say anything, and with his face still bright red, he silently starts the car.

On his satchel, a little round disc that resembles a scale invisibly transmits.

The next day, a rumour seem to spring up from everywhere at once: Chu-ge and Xiao-Guo’s gone steady, 9 University Rd is a nest for gays.

[TN. 搞大象 lit. setup-big-elephant. It came from 搞對象 lit. setup a partner. It’s just slang to replace the middle character with 大 / big, or 小 / small to indicate whether the partner is serious or casual.]

And what’s become of the person unfortunate enough to hear something he should not have, the Lin Jing who spread the rumours?

Oh, may the lord Buddha preserve us, he’s gained so many bumps on his head it’s wrapped in enough bandages to resemble a turban.

===

Much thanks to @lifeishwaiting for the final once over.

I’ve been sitting on this draft forever trying to get around the couple of derogatory terms the author used, and I did change them above, so I’ll note them here:

Raj from BBT was referred to as “The little Indian from BBT”

The last line used 印度阿三 and here’s the Baidu entry. I ended up using “turban” instead because it’s what she really meant as a description, and it’s a word used in Chinese history — think “Yellow Turban Rebellion” before the Three Kingdoms period.

#guardian #鎮魂 #weilan #guochu #guardian translations #fox translates 鎮魂 #fox translates zhen hun #zhen hun extra 3

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theboldtypeobsession · 6 years

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The Bold Type - 2x01 - “Feminist Army” Recap

I plan to do these recaps every week but real life takes over and I write when I have time. I’ve been working on 2x01 & 2x02 recaps since premiere week and between technical difficulties (my laptop is old and turns on when it feels like it) and working crazy hours at work, it’s been slow getting these done. My recaps are a bit lengthy, so if you’ve got time to read, I hope you do. Also, the episodes always open with the Ladies together so my recaps will (for the most part) start off with the Ladies and then branch off into Kat & Adena’s storylines (they are the 2 characters I relate to the most being a bi-woc). Lastly, any and all feedback, (helpful) criticism and suggestions are welcomed/appreciated!

Season 1 Summary - When we last checked in with the Ladies of The Bold Type: Jane who started as an assistant, now promoted to a writer –her dream job, made a tough decision to move on from Scarlet. Sutton, the ultimate assistant got an opportunity to dive head first into the world of fashion, where her heart has always been. Kat, the queen of social media, living her best professional life and even with a few hiccups, is at the top of her game! Professionally the Trio made plenty of moves, when it came to their personal lives they found themselves at different stages. Jane experienced her first orgasm, got tested for the BRCA gene, decided to give Pinstripe a chance, then decided not to and leaned on her friends through it all. Sutton managed to keep her relationship with Richard (a board member) under lock and key until Kat & Jane found out. After breaking up with Richard, she hooked up with Alex but realized that her heart is still Richard’s. Kat unexpectedly fell hard for Adena, an artist and proud muslim lesbian who turned her world upside down. As a result, Kat jumped on a plane to be with Adena. At every turn the Ladies have been there for each other, with support, love, a shoulder and wine when needed.

S2 – E1: Feminist Army

The episode picks up 2 weeks after the end of season 1. Kat is on her way back from her international vacation with Adena and Jane & Sutton have decided to be her welcome home party. After several delays, Kat arrives and the Ladies are finally reunited and yes, it feels so good! On the cab ride home, the Trio engage in a “catch me up” session with Jan & Sutton pointing out how sprung Kat is over Adena (who we also find out is on her way to NY, her visa has been approved). The joy is emanating from Kat so much so that she wants to share it with the world, starting with the cab driver. Since Sutton is always working, there’s a detour stop at a pop-up shop and the Ladies have an awkward, yet laugh out loud worthy run in with Jacqueline (Kat’s facial expression says it all). Jacqueline asks Jane about how things are going and Jane proceeds to tell Jacqueline about the vertical and the stories that she has lined up. Even though Jane no longer works at Scarlet this exchange feels as if she’s trying to convince Jacqueline that she’s a great writer. With what she’s heard Jacqueline assures Jane that what she’s doing is important and with that she bids the Ladies farewell.

Kat – who has been wearing a permanent smile is dressed for work and engaging with her personal social media audience. She snaps a video as she climbs over Adena, who’s still in bed and clearly trying to stave off the morning sun. Adena tries to coax Kat to come back to bed by suggesting they finish what was started the previous night and although Kat’s face and mouth are in agreement (“I would love to”), she has to go to work. As a compromise, they settle on having lunch…kissing her girlfriend goodbye, Kat heads off to work.

Back into the swing of things at Scarlet, Kat has a full day ahead of her. First a meeting with Jacqueline who welcomes her back and gets Kat to admit that her need for time off was not just because she wanted a vacation. Kat realized while she was gone that everything important to her was as a result of Scarlet...Adena, Jane, Sutton and her career too and she doesn’t take any of it for granted. Jacqueline brings Kat up to speed on what is needed now that she’s back, including changes to the dot-com and the hiring that needs to happen in the social media department and to start things off, she’s needed for a meeting with the board.

It’s time for the seminar on sexual harassment and Kat and Sutton are both wearing faces of boredom until Richard comes in to make a statement. As Richard unpacks the latest changes made to the company’s dating policy, Kat sends a text to Sutton to make sure she’s aware that everything Richard is saying is for her. And just so Sutton understands how much Richard’s statements are for her, Kat being the best friend that she is, raises her hand and asks if the employees who are in different departments/on different levels can date. Richard makes it abundantly clear that it doesn’t matter, department or level as long as they are willing to sign a consent form, it’s a go! Anyone would see this as a victory but Sutton is apprehensive and it’s written all over her face.

Jacqueline and Kat are facing off with the board that consists of white men who are out of touch with how to capture the attention of trendsetters. Kat never one to bite her tongue, interjects and get a chance to school the board on how to engage with millenials…yes, a guy self identifying as a unicorn in fact will start a conversation…score 1 for the social media director…Kat-1 vs. Board-0. While sharing her small victory with Sutton, they are confronted with the latest gossip which happens to be about Sutton. In the midst of dealing with that mini crisis Adena shows up for their scheduled lunch date. The moment Adena speaks Kat’s name, her face lights up and smiles are exchanged between the two. Kat so caught up with everything that’s been going on forget to text Adena to cancel lunch. Kat asks Adena for a rain check and although visibly disappointed, she understandably obliges.

Back at the apartment Kat is greeted with the smell of delicious food and her girlfriend dressed in a kimono with lingerie underneath. It’s clear that Adena has certain things in mind when she makes the statement that she’s been craving Kat all day. Yet, somehow Kat misses this and goes into a spiel about a Scarlet party she has to attend and would like Adena to go with her. Just as she had done that morning, Adena makes a last ditch effort, unsuccessfully, to get Kat to stay home. Instead, Adena finds herself caving to Kat’s megawatt smile and she agrees to go to the party. To say that Adena is very understanding is an understatement.

While at the party, Jacqueline greets Kat & Adena and Adena has a chance to thank Jacqueline for everything she did for them while in Peru. Since this is a Scarlet party, Jacqueline wants Kat to walk the red carpet and take pictures but when Kat tries to get Adena to participate, Adena declines leaving Kat to wonder why. After fulfilling her red carpet obligations, Kat confronts Adena. Adena explains to Kat that they are still in the beginning stage of their relationship and she feels that Kat is moving too fast. To that Kat reminds Adena that they spent weeks traveling together and now they are essentially living together. Adena tries delicately to clue Kat in on what’s been bothering her but Kat insists that Adena tell it to her straight and that she does. She tells Kat that in her willingness to post pictures on social media of them and to tell everyone who will listen that she has a girlfriend, she’s not ready to go down on her. It was as if the room stood still. Kat is shocked and left speechless, not sure of how to digest what Adena has said to her. Instead of trying to hash things out in the middle of a party, they decide they’ll talk when Kat gets home. With her best friends bearing witness to what is Kat & Adena’s first fight, Sutton knows what they need in that moment –a closet.

For Kat the relationship with Adena is her first ever relationship and with this revelation from Adena’s confession, she’s questioning the relationship, her sexuality and being able to please her girlfriend. Luckily for Kat, she has friends that listen and offer sound advice, reminding her that she’s a newbie and she can’t be worried that she’ll get it right every time. With this bit of reassurance, Kat returns home to Adena who’s waiting up for her. Even though she’s nervous, Kat knows that she has to face Adena. Pushing past her need to “run” at the first sign of trouble, Kat confesses that she feels like she screwed up. To that Adena apologizes for snapping instead of just being honest. This conversation is raw and honest and a sign that both ladies are willing to do the work. Kat owns up to where she fell short, admitting that she hadn’t offered, but also, Adena never asked. Adena kindly reminds Kat of what she said the first night they hung out. In addition, she didn’t want to push her to do anything she wasn’t ready to do or didn’t want to do. Kat takes this opportunity to let Adena know that she’s attracted to her but that she was a little worried and scared. Adena puts Kat’s mind at ease by letting her know that it’s not about the act but it’s about being able to have the hard conversations. Without missing a beat Kat states matter-of-factly that she’s never talked about oral sex so much, not even at Scarlet which is surprising to me since Scarlet prides itself on being a feminist magazine. Then again if Scarlet is perceived as a magazine for straight women, it makes sense.

Kat wants Adena to know that she heard every word she said and she sets out to let her girlfriend know how much she desires her. At this point, Kat can’t help herself and she kisses Adena and that’s all it takes. More stolen kisses and glances lead to a moment when the camera pans out on Kat’s face and in that moment, it’s as if Kat let go of her inhibitions. She realizes that she’s safe with Adena and is willing to give her what she needs and wants and she proceeds to go down on her. Although she may not know exactly what she’s doing, she gives it her best and that’s evident based on Adena’s reaction. Kat has a lot of learning to do and it’s clear that she’s willing to stick and stay. -

(Sidebar: I cannot recap this episode without mentioning the scene with Kat, Sutton & Sage coming off the elevator…please pay attention to Sutton’s faces during this scene…chuckle worthy.

Also, Kat & Sutton are greeted by Alex who has definitely stepped up his game. He has grown out his facial hair and has graduated from the khakis…he’s getting his “grown man” on and it’s showing up in a pleasant way.

Last thing, do we know why Kat changed her shirt from the checkered green shirt to the printed flowing blouse that she had on when she got home? Each time I’ve watched the episode I’ve had the same thought.

P.S. I’m working on the recaps for 2x02 & 2x03...hope to have them both done before 2x04 airs.)

#the bold type #tbt #episode recap #kat edison #jane sloan #sutton brady #adena el amin #jacqueline carlyle #kadena #tbt 2x01

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caitos-corner · 2 years

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Social Media Rabbit Hole

I have a snapchat, Instagram, and gab account where I have posted once and deleted them as I do not see any value they add to my life. I don’t have a tiktok. I do have a Facebook account that I check twice per day. I will either post a funny meme, or I will notify my retirees about changes in their medical insurance (I work in Human Resources and am in charge of the benefits). The Facebook icon is not on my home screen, so it is not readily available to me. I do not have much social media influence in my life. I do not thrive on the number of likes I get or how many followers I have, if any. I do not really consider me or my life so important that others would hang on my every word. Other than texts, calls, or voicemails, the only notifications I have enabled are for my bank and credit card accounts. I do not look at stories on Facebook, I do not want to get sucked in. Although, when I do check Facebook in the morning, I watch the short tiktok videos because they are funny; however, once I start, it is hard to put down, so I try to keep a time limit of 15 minutes.

I agree with Max Stossels that social media is not real life. The morphing of the pizza was disturbing but a good analogy. It was interesting to see the pictures of the faces of people as they looked up from their phones. I don’t use social media too often because it makes me feel mad that I waste time on something that is not productive and physically not healthy. If I am on my phone, I am sedentary which is not good.

In reference to Emma Rathbone, her concept is correct, but examples are not. I never stared at a wall or seemed to wander about or flutter like a feather with no direction. Before the internet, I read, watched tv, went to work, ran errands, went to movies, shopped, or visited with friends. This is pretty much what I do now. Though she is correct, before the internet you had to rely on magazines, books, and encyclopedias to verify perceived facts.

How do you think having the Internet constantly available affects your life? Although I am not a big social media user, having the internet available is very convenient as I am always thinking and have questions pop up in my head. The internet if my first choice to diagnose and ache or pain, wonder how much water my plants need, purchase items, verify how to spell a word, and much more. The internet is a much faster way to get things done. If I want to see movie times, I look them up online instead of waiting on hold while listening to a long tape. I love being able to find out where I can purchase items instead of calling tons of stores or worse: driving around to all stores.

What are some times when you haven't had access to the Internet for an extended period of time, and what was it like? Whenever I am on vacation, I never use the internet and it was wonderful!

What are some things you would like to do to be more intentional about your use of technology? I have already deleted games off my phone that cause me to play them for 15 hours. After a marathon session, I just feel angry, mad, and lazy.

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endlesscloudsoftime · 6 years

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11 Questions

I thank the ever so wonderful @porkcutletbowltrash for tagging me *bows*!

1. Which fictional character would be the most boring to meet in real life?

Hmm….I want to say this would be hard but on the contrary there are so many characters that would be boring plainly because in real life we aren’t privy to their backgrounds as we are in the mode of media themselves. Honestly, I would pick Cho Chang [from Harry Potter for those who are unaware]. From what I got on her character she didn’t seem to have any dimension to her that would interest me [other than her being in the Quidditch team] so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

2. What problem or situation did TV / movies make you think would be common, but when you grew up you found out it wasn’t? (i’m lowkey taking a jab at hsm because thanks Disney for making me think high school would be awesome)

People wearing only sweats and looking like they literally rolled out of bed in college. Where I went, most girls were in full makeup for a 09:00 [in the MORNING mind you] lecture and everyone was dressed in smart casuals at the very least. It took me a while but I had to up my dressing game because even just a simple hoodie and jeans had to look tasteful if nothing else.

3. What would be on the gag reel of your life?

A lot of things, but I’ll go with a simple one. Tripping over nothing at all while walking. This happens ALL THE TIME like I don’t get a break *cries*

4. What does “infinite” mean to you?

Deceptively endless. The things that are infinite we can’t see, and the things we perceive as infinite always have an end point somewhere.

5. If your life was a movie, what songs would be on the soundtrack?

A Freaking Lot. My soundtrack would go on and on honestly. A few that would be there though are (not in order though):

- Shattered by Trading Yesterday

- Wannabe by the Spice Girls

- I Giorni by Ludovico Einaudi

- Tous les Secrets by Celine Dion

- For Me from the N no tame ni OST

- Decompose by NELL

- I’ll Remember by Day6 [don’t be confused by the title in the video - the song is the right one]

- Sing Me by Day6

- Hello how are you by Ritsuka

- Another Sunday by Trading Yesterday

- Main Koi Aisa Geet Gaoon from the Bollywood movie Yes Boss

- Ajab Si from the Bollywood movie Om Shanti Om (2008)

[I have so SO much more but I think 12 is good enough for now. Also I’ve added links for each song if you were curious!]

6. What item would be your top choice to make into a horcrux?

I’ve actually spent years thinking about this and I’m actually STILL not sure what I would make. I would say a note of money, but there is something about that that makes me uneasy. I’m sure this answer will change later, but for now I would make my silicone/rubber phone cover a horcrux because it seems resilient and quite unsuspecting (maybe).

7. Who would play you in a movie about your life?

America Ferrera. I’ve been told I resemble her looks-wise, and since my life isn’t very screen worthy (which means hello Normal Girl) her being amazing as Carmen in Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants is already an overqualification for portraying my life anyway.

8. Most relatable scene from any book/movie/anime/etc.?

When they drool over food and prioritize that over any other situation. Prime examples flitting through my head now are:

- in Lucky Star where Konata and Tsukasa go on a discussion about which side of the chocolate cornet they would eat from and why.

- practically everytime Yui and Ritsu jump at tea time with cakes in K-ON! disregarding doing anything productive.

9. If you were shrunk down and somehow got stuck in a blender, how would you get out?

I would try to disengage the blade cutter and prop it against one side securely so that I can (carefully) climb, use it as a foothold and push the small round cap on the top of the lid out and then crawl out. If that didn’t work then I’d just wait till someone came by and yell at them to get me out.

10. Would you count manga as a piece of literature? Why or why not?

I would because I consider manga as a comic which is technically considered as a literary piece anyway. (I even looked up literature to double check)

11. compliment yourself. (joey, you’re just to freaking good to at making up questions).

Well done on making it through life so far Astea with your stuffed toys *pats on back*

WELL now it’s time for me to make up these questions muahahahah (okay no I can’t be actually cleverly dastardly to save my life).

1. What season would you have control over if there were masters of the seasons (Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, Monsoons etc.)?

2. If you could only have one pet, would you have either a cat/dog/other? And what breed would they be?

3. When looking at the menu in a restaurant, what is the first page you examine and why? [because I don’t look at the appetizers first like a normal human and I’m curious to know if I’m the only one]

4.If you ever had the opportunity of accurately knowing what your future would be, would you want to know? Why/Why not?

5. Which social media platform are you most fond of and why?

6. If you had to choose one sin to be known by for the rest of your life (from the Seven Deadly Sins) which one would it be and why?

7. What form of entertainment would you consume when younger (books/tv shows/magazines/movies etc.) and has that changed?

8. Are you a light traveler? Or the kind that needs two heavy duty suitcases for a week’s holiday?

9. Would you rather life be a steady constant or a rollercoaster?

10. Was being famous something you had ever wanted? If so what kind of celebrity did you want to be? If not, why?

11. Do you believe in reincarnation? If so, do you think you’ve been reincarnated or are you brand new?

I tag @katzuyas, @savedbythenotepad, @exile-wrath, @possibleplatypus, @dreaming-fireflies, @crossroadswrite, @thechroniclesoftrash, @omgkatsudonplease, @peasantaries, @miyakuli and anyone else who would like to try!

[And as always those who are tagged don’t need to do this if they would rather not!]

#astea's tumblr tag #porkcutletbowltrash #it's been a while #this will never not be fun

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ayy-jayy-siciliani · 3 years

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AJ + Lydia || Therapy

When: Late February 2021

Where: AJ’s therapist’s office, Downtown Santa Monica

Major Warnings: Mental Health / Mental Illness, Suggestive comments (lmao I mean come on)

Featuring: Lydia Belmonte @lydiabelmonte

It was that time of the week again in which AJ would go to therapy right after working out and then he'd head home or go swing by to bug Lydia. He didn't tell her about therapy yet, mostly because it seemed like whenever he talked about going to therapy, there was always an awkward or weird reaction and then he'd have to mention the fact that he experienced trauma. Sunny, happy-go-lucky AJ going through trauma was unheard of, so, he decided not to mention it. Except today, he was surprised when Lydia asked to meet up, and as a quick scapegoat, he said he'd swing by Lola's to check up on her. On the one hand, her apartment was right next door to the building, on the other hand, he hated lying, but figured today he'd at least tell her the truth after the fact. However, upon leaving his session...he'd have to blurt it out fast when he saw Lydia standing in the lobby. "Lydia, hey. What're you...doing here?" He asked carefully.

lydia b.

Lydia was starting to find AJ being sketchy as of lately, she tried her hardest to trust him, but she was only human and the bugging voice in her head whispering that he was cheating on her, with a troublesome past relationships and the way her parents were, Lydia found herself going to the place AJ went. As she entered and looked around the office to see AJ come out and she raised her eyebrows before turning back around to outside. she couldn’t decide what hurt more, the fact AJ didn’t feel comfortable telling her about this or the fact he lied to her.

AJ could feel his stomach drop at Lydia's expression, between that and the way she turned to head outside, he knew today was going to be a day. Instead of making a scene, he followed after her until he knew he could catch up and block her off. Once he got to that point, he sprinted, stood in front of her and said, "Just--hear me out for a sec, okay?" He breathed out. "My mental health, isn't the best like everyone perceives it to be. I got my own demons to battle and, I don't want to burden you with all that. I know I shouldn't have lied in that moment, but I was going to tell you, don't think I wasn't. If you don't believe me, here," He handed over his navy blue journal. "That's why the top drawer's locked. I'm not cheating on you."

lydia b.

Lydia should have figured that AJ would run after her, he wasn’t anything like her last boyfriend where they’d ignore each other until one of them caved in. She knew she was still getting used to this new healthy coping but sometimes like this, facing things head on always made her fight or flight kick in. “I don’t want to read your journal Anthony, the fact you lied to me—you didn’t trust me enough to know that you’re seeing a therapist,” she snapped pushing the journal back onto his chest, “you know how I feel about liars—I thought you were cheating, you know how ready I was to catch you in the act, figure out plans on to avoid getting my heart broken?” She tried to side step them, wanting to get out of the public’s eyes and perhaps not see the look he was giving her, that would make her cave in easily.

This was not going to be an easy fight knowing very damn well how Lydia's temper was and...AJ's was completely shut off for the most part. "I do trust you, but I wasn't ready to tell you yet because it's not as easy as it seems," He sighed, shaking his head. When the journal was shoved back into his chest, he could already feel his heart sinking even more. This was such a shitty feeling. "Why would I cheat on you, Lydia? After everything, why would I throw that away? I care about you, I don't want to hurt you and I was just protecting you for a little bit longer from learning about all the dark and sad shit cause--you've been so happy and that's all I want to see you, is happy. I hate that I lied, okay? I'm sorry," He called out. He knew that they were in public and even though there was no one around, last thing he wanted was this to escalate to Gossip God. "Lydia, can we, just talk it out in the car, please?"

lydia b.

“Protecting me from what? If you haven’t noticed I don’t come from a good home and I sure as hell don’t expect my life to turn into a damn fairytale over night.” Lydia looked at AJ, staring at him in silence, she didn’t want to talk things out, she wanted to run, gather her thoughts quietly to herself and curl up in her bed. But that wasn’t the case for this moment, she could feel her old self wanting to push him, rile something up inside him, make the worse of himself come out. Maybe she wasn’t ever going to get over her toxic ways, at this point she didn’t know whether to accept it or not. “No...I don’t want to talk it out in a car, you can get in the car and I’ll catch a Lyft.”

"Neither did I!" AJ fired back, feeling the frustration rise in his chest. It was the first time he didn't bounce around the talk about family nor sugar coat the situation. "I'm protecting you from the not so good parts of me and you might not understand, but I didn't come from the most happiest home either. Not til much later. It's why I'd rather talk shit out than let it fester because I'm busting my ass off to not wind up like my dad, who hurt my mom, my sisters, and me," He began to choke out and cleared his throat. "Least I can do is wait for the Lyft to get here to know you're safe. You don't have to say anything else. I get it."

lydia b.

Lydia didn’t know much about AJ or his family, other than the fact that his dad wasn’t around and they all had their own ways of coping with the loss of a father figure. She understood that, except with her mother, which was probably why she didn’t have good mother instincts or whatever the reason she was the way she was. She silently turned her gaze away from him and looked down at their feet, clenching and unclenching her hands on the sides of her body, breathing out. “where’s your car.”

AJ hoped there was a sliver of understanding with Lydia, even though their situations were different, they were both raised by single parents and their grandparents, at least that was what they had in common. It was AJ's true story after all, he just left out the part of his dad, for good reason. He had to learn to cope. "This way," AJ quietly said as he motioned towards the navy blue jeep that was a few cars down.

lydia b.

Lydia didn’t want to follow Aj, she wanted to walk past him and make her way to the nearest bar to throw back a few shots. But the fact she was trying to make things work was rather hard especially with what she was used too. She didn’t utter another word as she followed after him towards the car, crossing her arms over her chest and chewed the inside of her cheek as she walked to the passenger side door, waiting until he opened it and got inside to look straight ahead in silence.

The walk to the car was a painfully silent one. It was a walk in which AJ fought the tears that threatened to fall. He tried focusing on his footsteps and his breathing, even just the most ragged of breaths could upset the calm before the storm and cause it to rage before they even made it to the car. When they made it, he opened the car door for her and then hopped into the driver's side and took a breath. "I go to therapy every Wednesday after the gym. Lola knows, Ivy...not so much. We don't talk about what happened with our dad, but we all have our scars. Some of us physical, but mostly emotional. I get nightmares every now and again. I don't know how to properly express negative emotion except by running and if I can't run, I pace my room and don't sleep."

lydia b.

she didn’t expect their conversation to end up like this, she didn’t want to pressure AJ into telling her about his dad when he wasn’t ready. Yet it appeared her anger got the best of her as she stayed silent and let him continue talking. Lydia wanted to reach over and comfort him, but she wanted to hear more, wanted to know more about AJs life, learn more about him that he doesn’t show in front of her.

It was a hard conversation that needed to be had, even though AJ wished that things weren't so tense so it'd be easier for him to open up, but here he was, staring blankly at his hands that would grip and release the steering wheel each and every time to get him to feel something and keep him centered. "I protected my mom and my sisters, a lot from him. I'd cause distractions to buy Ivy time to get Lola and hide. I'd jump in front of my mom so he wouldn't hit her, it's why I got the scar on my chin, actually. I tell magazines and reporters it was from a bike," He chuckled lightly and took a breath. "I don't share this side because it's a side that I need to learn to cope with first, above all else. I get scared to get angry because I've seen that man angry and...I don't want that for myself, for the people I care about. I don't want to be a monster. That's why I come here, every Wednesday. Learn healthy coping mechanisms, talk about life."

lydia b.

AJ opening a whole new can of worms and confession had her looking at him, her dark eyes widen at the news, the fact him and his sisters had to deal with along with his mom. It was no wonder he didn’t get upset when she tried to push him to get upset, she started to feel guilty for how she continued pushing him out of the comfort zone he was in while as she knew he was trying and she needed to try as well. Lydia knew therapy was good for some people, she just wasn’t one of those people due to being put in therapy at eight years old due to her parents decision. “Anything else?” She asked softly, her eyes looking at the side of his face before looking back outside.

"That's um...pretty much it," AJ responded just as softly. It was for the first time, in a very long time, he had felt vulnerable. None of his past exes knew about the darker side of his family life, none of his friends knew. It was always something kept within the family, aside his therapist. So now, he could feel the anxiety surge through him. He couldn't even turn to look at Lydia, afraid of how she might react. All he could do was focus on his breathing at the present moment and now the rushing thoughts in his mind, or the guilt that continued to eat at him.

lydia b.

Lydia nodded her head quietly, the silence in the car deafening, mostly her just processing the man she assumed she knew just came out of the shell he tried to perfect into seeming unhurt by anything. Lydia was starting to realize that she didn’t deserve AJ, he deserved someone who would love him and be that shiny person with a good heart, which she didn’t have or at least she believed she didn’t. “I think we should break up,” she said, maybe it was cruel for her to utter those words in a moment like this but she wanted to see something, be a bully but other than that, she would come clean and pull him into a hug.

AJ hated the silence in the car but he had nothing else to say from there on out. Mostly because it was him trying to gather his thoughts together, trying to keep from suffocating in his own mind. It was hard, opening up to someone like Lydia, who was already hurt by the world, but remained tall and managed to work her way through it the best way she knew how. That was what he admired about her, after all. Except...when he heard the words that came out of her mouth next, it was like a punch to the gut. He felt the tears coming on, but still kept a blank face and didn't turn to her when he said, "If...you think that's what's best for you, I wont stop you," He breathed out, trying to steady his voice as best as he could.

lydia b.

Lydia wasn’t sure what to expect, but his words, she wasn’t expecting one bit. She thought he would at least try and convince her not too, not agreeing willingly. “Just like that...you won’t even fight for us?” Lydia turned to face him fully, her heart squeezing at the fact he probably was hurting and yet here she was adding salt to the wound.

AJ's mind was wracking through the countless hours of therapy now of how to properly react when someone hurts you as he tried to even out his breathing. Even one wrong breath and he'd be a mess of tears and humiliate himself even further. "You wanted to know everything and you're...dumping me. I don't know what else you want me to say. I can't really...force you to stay, you know?"

lydia b.

Lydia stared at AJ, gaping at the fact he so easily waved his white flag, it annoyed her but another part of her enjoyed that side of him. Lydia reached forward and grabbed his chin, pulling his face to hers, staring him in his eyes, “you’re an idiot, you really think I would end things because of a sad past? I’m sorry that your father did that to your family, sorry that you had to lie to me about seeing a therapist—theres nothing wrong with that, it’s actually healthy, and most of all....I love you.”

AJ was caught off guard when Lydia pulled his face to look her in the eyes. "That's not funny or okay to do, Lydia--" He began to scold Lydia for the cruel joke but paused and took a breath to hear her out. At Lydia's apology and love confession he blinked at her for a second. Now he really thought he was being punk'd. "Lydia, seriously--that's not something to play with. I mean, I appreciate the apology but...don't just say that because I'm down."

lydia b.

Lydia wondered if it was the good time to utter those three words out, the same three words she vowed to not say ever again, that she used all the love she had to one guy and he broke it. The words alone felt different and the fact she was okay with saying it to AJ. “You should know I never even tell my friends I love them, this isn’t some spur of the moment because I’m always worried about being cheated on.”

AJ was completely in shock at Lydia's confession and let out a chuckle, it was that relief that lifted from his shoulders and slowly, the knot in his throat began to lessen and he felt like he could breathe again. "Damn, I feel pretty damn special then," He teased. "You beat me to the punch though, because I love you. And I'm not saying too as an echo, this is me saying, that I love you, and you drive me up the wall with your sadistic ass, but," He brushed a piece of hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek, "I can't imagine not having you."

lydia b.

Lydia smiled, she never would’ve guess that she would utter those words out to him in this sort of fashion. She figured she would be in a desperate moment and confesses, she realized maybe she should lay off the romantic movies for a bit. “I think you’ll survive, if you could do it before, definitely can do it after.” Her hand reaching up to squeeze his forearm, “does that mean I can’t go and screw parker one last time?” She jokingly asked.

AJ let out the loudest sigh as his hands cupped Lydia’s face carefully after her both remarks. “Lydia, you have to let me love you and not kill this moment,” He said in a more serious tone. “I know you hate romance but, at least just take in this moment, right here, right now. Cause this is it right here, there’s no going back. I know you’ve been hurt before, so you have to joke in moments like these to protect yourself, but I’m saying let me in. I’m not going to hurt you, Lydia.”

lydia b.

Lydia stared into his eyes, her heart fluttering at the serious look he held in those eyes of his. She knew it was wrong to joke around but it was what she knew best to do in situation like this. “Correction you did hurt me, should I remind you of the little secret you kept from me? How can you ask me to trust you when you do something like this?” She pointed out, she wanted nothing more than to do just that, let him in for once, now that she knew her true feelings for AJ she believed she could.

AJ took a breath and nodded, “I did, and I’m sorry for hurting you by hiding where I was going. It won’t happen again, you know unless it’s Christmas and I’m trying to hide from you to buy your present or your birthday—But it doesn’t take away from the fact that, this isn’t a joke, Lydia. I know you’re scared because you just said what you said. You can’t vocalize vulnerability and just before I make it to the door you shut me out, y’know? If this means I’m back outside of your wall, let me know, I know I have shit to work on, but I just want you to be sure, and I guess, I want to be sure too, that I’m what you want,” He admitted. “You don’t have to let down all your walls right away, but I’m just asking for you to sit in the moment.”

lydia b.

“You’re asking a lot from me AJ,” she felt the quiver in her tone, clearing her throat, “I just told you I love you and your past, but if you can’t accept the way I handle my own uncomfortable situations then maybe we need to take a breather. I’m not breaking up with you and you’re nothing like my ex but I know sometimes you feel as if I would leave you for him. I won’t, yes parker and I have a past. I can’t change that, I have a heart that I’m still repairing. It may take sometime but I will let you inside.”

“Yeah...I think we do need to take a breath—“ AJ attempted to say before his lips quivered into a smile. “Fuck I can’t do it with a straight face!” He laughed softly. “Lydia, I know you need time, okay? I just got frustrated for a sec cause I thought you were still joking, but you’re not—and you’re right. Lowkey, sometimes I think, you’ll go back because of that past yknow? But,” He looked at her with sincerity, “Take your time. I know this won’t be a cake walk. I got you.”

lydia b.

“Then quit getting mad at me because I won’t let you in right away,” Lydia slapped his shoulder and moved away from his grasp, looking out the window. “I love you but you’re a big pain in my ass sometimes, you know how ready I was to attack a bitch you we’re screwing? I could have end up in jail.”

AJ laughed, shaking his head, rubbing his shoulder when Lydia had moved away. She had a hard hit. “Didn’t like the tables turned on ya huh?” He teased. “But no I just thought you were fuckin’ with me, so that’s why I got flustered, I’m sorry baaaabe,” He called out to her for the first time as he went to pull her towards him. “I love you, but just know I can carry you before you murder anyone for staring at me,” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’ll even make it up to you. You could...” He whispered in her ear “Peg me or I could let you sit on my face?”

lydia b.

Lydia felt a shiver go down her spine at his suggestion, the little devil on her shoulder suggested to cave in, but her stubborn side wanted to pout a little longer. “Don’t be using sex against me, you know that’s my strategy,” she grumbled and turned her face away from his, sitting there with her arms over her chest. “It doesn’t help that I have to glare at these bitches for gawking at you and you giving them a smile.”

AJ chuckled at Lydia’s stubbornness. She was endearing like that. “You can’t say it didn’t rile you up a little,” He smirked, pressing kisses to her cheek and neck. “But I don’t smile at them the way I smile at you. I’m all yours, you know that.”

lydia b.

Lydia sighed and rolled her eyes, typical answer for him, she was still iffy but that was just her insecurities that one day AJ would get tired of her shit and break it off with her. She didn’t share those thoughts due to him probably saying that he loves her and only sees her type of bullshit. “Maybe I’ll flash my own pretty smile at both men and women that hit on me, giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

AJ turned Lydia to face him and he gave her a more sincere look. "Lydia," He said softly. "I will literally fuck the shit out of you if you try and make me jealous, I hope you know that," he began with a mischievous look, but then followed up with, "It's also normal to worry. You're gonna need a lot of reassurance, and that's okay. I'll show you every damn day, that I love you, even when you drive me up the wall. I'll be gentle with you...outside of the sheets."

lydia b.

her eyes widen slightly at his words, she always forgot that this part of him always comes through when tested by her. She just never expected for him to say those words, but it excited her to see if he would fall through with his promise. Her eyes twinkled with mischief and smiled, “at least I said it first and now you can stop over thinking if I do like you, I love you, until you try what you did again then I will cut you off so fast.”

AJ had to try to bite back a smirk when he noticed Lydia's eyes go wide at the sudden switch up. He liked casually reminding her at the worst times about how much of a freak he was. The only downside was they were in his jeep...in front of his sister's apartment. "I know, I know," He chuckled. "I promise, it won't happen again. I'll be honest with you. I love you."

#p:lydia

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clove-teasdale · 6 years

Text

eureka

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A/N: challenge #3. YALL, THIS TOOK FOREVER AND I’M READY. Anyhow. this is a late rp and fic I should’ve done ages ago (I’M SORRY GRACE, SHUSH). I’m using it as my challenge cause deadline is near. Another rp with a royal will come after this tho. This has detective clove and conspiracies(?) I hope you like it <3 some stuff is revealed more clearly and hopefully the ending isn’t bad. forgive typos and lengh (around 4k smh). ft. @brooks-schreave , some guards and the mysterious call I’d mentioned on my last fic. This takes place before the first official dates with nate and that rp from the brooks pov.

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

“Lady Clove?” Officer Rogers’ voice asked from the other side of my door after a knock.

I closed my magazine and placed it on the desk. “You can come in.”

The young officer did so quickly, bowing more than he should’ve. He was the awkward out of the pair that sometimes patrolled our hall. “Young and inexperienced,” Barnes had explained the day I’d asked one of them to bring me lunch.

It had been the day of the Report when the maids were too busy with my clothes and hair and shoes to get me the lunch I’d skipped, earning a scolding from Chris, the eldest of the trio. Rogers had almost immediately scurried to do the favor I’d asked until Barnes had sighed and stopped him, remembering him he was to tell a servant and then return to the post instead of bringing it himself. The blonde had been so visibly flustered by the reminder it was almost comical.

Barnes had only shaken his head as he watched him go. He had one of those misleading faces, not seeming but a few years older than Rogers, but clearly older by the way he carried himself and acted. Keen and observant--not someone that could do the task I’d asked Rogers without suspicion. Rogers was rash, too eager to prove himself to question the logic behind a request.

“Did you get it?” I asked, walking over to him as he took a few magazines out of the shopping bag.

“Yes...may I ask why these ones in particular?”

Okay, he had some curiosity after all, but at least no skepticism. “It’s interesting to see what other people think of the Selection. I never thought I’d read about it while participating in it, so it’s smart to be informed on how the outside perceives us”

“Ah,” he seemed to understand, or at least buy my excuse. “You only get access to Illéa Illustrated in the palace.”

I nodded, taking a look at the covers of the set he’d handed me. “Usually, that’s the norm, yes.” Because Illéa Illustrated was a supporter of the royal family. That’s why they got to cover the most crucial information and were granted the most interviews. Sure, they let us get some random gossip magazines as well, but those were the harmless ones that just had fun at making us look bad--or good--and creating fun content for people to read.

The titles I’d asked Rogers to get were all affiliated to the monarchies’ strongest critics. The ones that didn’t get big outlets like newspapers...or that’s what I could recall Dad saying. It was his job to be informed about that type of thing and though he always considered them to be annoying, they were never a concern. Their general pettiness and unprofessionalism posed no threat. I knew they were always under his hidden radar though, just in case they ever stumbled upon a problematic topic.

At the moment, their opinion was what I wanted. Any type of ridiculous reaching. They wouldn’t say something big or the whole country would already be talking about it whether they were unknown writers before or not, but there could be something. After the call earlier that week, I’d take whatever I could take.

“Hey, Daisy,” my father greeted as the call began. Sometimes he liked calling me random flowers as an inside joke to me being named after a plant, but not any ever so popular flower.

“Gonna tell me how much you miss me?” I asked, leaning on a wall. I was kidding, of course. We never called each other for that sort of stuff. Mom would be the one to do that, but he kept the charade going.

“Yeah, sending all the kisses to my favorite daughter.”

“I’m your only daughter.”

“See? You don’t even have to doubt I’m being serious because there’s no way you’re not the favorite.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing very well he was probably reading over paperwork as he made ridiculous remarks to me on the phone. I felt a smile tug at my lips, but it wavered as Nate’s confession a few days ago came to mind. His lie about me not wanting to see them anymore.

Pressing my lips together, I twirled my finger around the cord of the phone. A weak attempt to stop myself from snapping at him. “So what’s up?”

“Cutting it to the chase, good,” I could hear the amusement in his voice and I wished I could share it as usual. “I’m going to the palace soon. I thought I’d give you a heads up. Make some time for me in your heavy schedule. I know you’re an important Lady now.”

Part of me wanted to keep the sarcasm going, but the other half was dreading the news. Would I be able to carry a full conversation without bringing his lie up? If I decided on boarding the topic on purpose, how bad would it be? I wasn’t sure I wanted to open that can of worms. We didn’t talk about those years now. Only mom ever brought them up in arguments with him.

“Clove?”

I realized then I’d been quiet for a moment. “Yeah, sorry, I thought I saw a guard gesturing at me,” I lied, “he was just waving a fly away.”

He scoffed a laugh, and I gulped when a thought hit me. “What’s got you coming to the palace this time?”

“Oh, you know how work is.”

“Does Mr. Revis have a new stupid plan in progress?” That got him to chuckle. “No, no dumb projects to debunk with the others this time. Just meeting up with Radcliffe.”

The private secretary of the King? “Did something happen?”

“No, we’re conducting a meeting, that’s all. General discussion on an ongoing thing, nothing too important.” He brushed it aside and all my thoughts were suddenly on high alert.

“Only the two of you?” A pause, nothing but a second or two, but I clenched my fist around the cord as I waited.

“There might be a couple other advisers actually, but it won’t be until Thursday. Will you make some time for your old man?”

“Sure, I’ll check my schedule. I wasn’t aware you had a project with him though.”

He knew I was curious. When I was younger I always said I wanted nothing to do with politics like him, but I liked knowing about it. Dad always said I was being nosy, but he caved in, slipping in a detail or two. Thankfully, this time wasn’t different.

“Oh, well, actually it’s about you girls. You’ll have to learn to deal with more than just etiquette and glamour, you know?” A voice interrupted on his side, very likely Tony, his assistant. “I’ll take it in a moment,” he replied to him, then back at me he added, “Hey, gotta go Tulip, but I’ll see you later in the week, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll see you then. Tell mom I say hello.”

“I will.”

We said our goodbyes and hung up, so I was left alone, frowning at the phone. What he said had made sense in a way, it was expected, but it made no sense for him not to simply say that from the beginning. It wasn’t normal for him to bother being secretive with me.

Once back on my room, I looked out the window that revealed another sunny day in Angeles. My gaze wandered off to the closet where I kept a bow with some of the magazines Rogers had bought for me and a couple old ones from the library; the only sources I’d had to analyze so far in my strange research.

We’re conducting a meeting, the words echoed in my head. If there was something I was good at it was coming up with stuff on the spot, half the time no one noticed and I’d gotten that ability from Dad.

Why did he pause? Hesitation.

I’d been too restless and needed a distraction, so trying to make friends as I’d told Wilson I would, I went to one of the rooms across the hall. Eloise’s room. We’d talked a few times during breakfast the past days, starting with the food and ending up on whatever topic came to mind after some random story or the other.

She had an easy going personality, and after a not-so-quick game of chess with elaborate rules, I realized she wasn’t too bad at guessing games. I was right about us maybe being friends eventually, the conversation going pretty well after the game. It did begin to die down after a while though and another idea formed in my head.

I’d been considering how to get to the third floor, the dreaded Thursday dawning on me as I figured my plan to spy on that meeting somehow. Besides, lying my way past the guards--which I’d learned would be Barnes and Rogers--I had not much of a plan. In theory, I could pull it off, but…

I looked back at Eloise. “How would you feel about staging at fall?”

Eloise wasn’t one to pry, but I still gave her a decent excuse the next day as to why I was trying to get to the third floor, mentioning it was a surprise for my dad visiting.

“Well, that’s a lot better than what I was imagining,” she admitted.

Right. Better.

Once she’d done her part and the wonder duo was focused on helping her out from her fall, I sneaked up the stairs. I’d have to give the girl credit for being so on board with this later.

The hallways in the third floor seemed both familiar and foreign, but once I managed to remember where my dad’s office was, it only took a couple more minutes to find Radcliffe's. I made sure to keep my steps silent, my hands already sweating a bit by the time I reached the door, hoping to catch some of the conversation inside.

I was practically in front of it when arms were wrapped around me from behind, my first instinct to yell. A hand was over my mouth before I had a chance to do so, however, and the arms were already lifting me slightly to haul me back.

Oh, God, what now, think, think, think... I squirmed, trying to free myself, trying to push back the second instinct: to panic. Hard grip, quite a couple of inches taller, very likely stronger and a man, my thoughts scurried, but as laughter erupted from inside the meeting room and the doorknob twitched, they deviated. They had the door locked?

As I registered that in my head, the assailant took advantage of my distraction and dragged me behind a wall, out of sight as the door opened. I focused back on the more important matter and freed one of my arms enough to elbow his side. He groaned in pain and the arms released me. I spun around ready to punch whoever it was but stopped as soon as I recognized the freckled face in front of me. You moron, my fist fell beside me. “Brooks?” I would’ve yelled it if it weren’t because we were hiding.

He shushed me anyway, eyes scanning the area. Not a second passed before he reached for my hand and dragged me down the hall. “Follow me.”

That’s not how following works. Wiggling my hand out of his grip, I continued the argument in hushed tones. “Do you want me to have a heart attack? Next time you do that I won’t aim for a rib.” Seriously, what is wrong with him, for the love of-- His hand went to the area I’d elbowed. “My bad for helping you not get caught.” I averted my gaze from his hand to push away the guilt of hurting him. It wasn’t like my reaction had been uncalled for. “I had it under control. If someone saw me I could say I was looking for my dad. He was in there.” I pointed back at the hall, but paused, realizing he was there. “Wait, hold on, how did you know I was sneaking around? What are you even doing up here?” “What were you doing there?” “I asked first.” “Promise not to tell?” There was clearly something going on. I narrowed my eyes before taking a subtle look around myself. Shifting, I placed a hand on my hip. “Go ahead.” He took my hand again for some reason, giving me no chance to glare at him before dragging me to the staircase. Barnes and Rogers were back on their posts by the time we reached the bottom, at first not giving us much of a glance.

When I looked over my shoulder, however, I was briefly met with Barnes’ scowl and Rogers’ bewilderment. I caught a glimpse of the blonde one wiping his head to look back at the stairs in confusion before we turned down a corner.

Brooks knew exactly what shelf he wanted to show me and immediately took a journal from it. “Look at this.”

I was annoyed by his lack of an explanation as we rushed here, but took the journal anyway to flip through it. I frowned as soon as I opened the middle of it and noticed it was more of a book. Margins were filled with annotations next to the simple text, the word “Selection” popping up pretty quickly on the Times New Roman font.

It was about the Selection, but the cover didn’t indicate it. It didn’t even seem like a book until you opened it. I’d scouted the library for days now and there was nothing but magazines regarding the Selection. I lifted my eyes back to the prince in surprise; then suspicion as I noticed his serious gaze. We couldn’t possibly be looking into the same stuff, yet… I tried figuring out the annotations before making any questions.

Whoever had held that pen, deserved never to hold one again. It was worse writing than mine in a rush. “The Selection will be a raffle,” the text read, underlined to lead to that godawful penmanship. My eyes widened a minute later as I managed to deincript one of the sentences.

No puede ser realmente al azar.

“It’s a fixed raffle?” “What?” Brooks snatched the journal back, “You can read this?” I glared before taking it from him again. “Yes, I can. It’s horrible handwriting, but I know my Spanish when I see it.” I frowned at the sloppy letters, strung together more than they should be. “Or mostly…”

He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky laugh. It was like watching a mathematician figure out the solution to his equations had been in front of him all along. “Do you know what this means?” I gave no reaction, trying to figure out more sentences as I gulped. I understood how he felt. I felt the ‘eureka’ tugging at me, but I couldn’t settle for it. I’d spent the past weeks thinking maybe all of my ridiculous thoughts were a product of my boredom and know I had something tangible.

I resorted to sarcasm as I focused on more annotations and replied, “That he was a Hispanic doctor?” “Clove, think. I know you can.” “I was joking.” I frowned, flipping through the journal once more. “It means bad news.” “Why were you outside the meeting room?” I ignored him, thoughts spiraling down a path I didn’t like. Could it all be true? Had my lousy math actually led me to something? Did dad know? There was no way he didn’t. “Clove!” “What!” I yelled, throwing library rules out the window as I shot him an angry glare.

“Why. Were. You. There.” Pursing my lips, I looked away and rubbed my forehead.

Dad knows, who are you trying to fool? He would have to know. Lies aren’t new to him. He’s cheated on mom, now the country, not that big a difference, is it? I clenched my jaw at the thoughts. You were there because you were suspicious of him. Why else would you have gone? You heard his hesitation. He knows. You know.

Before I could stop myself I was answering in a ramble. Mentioning how weird dad had been, the ‘crazy odds’ Eloise had mentioned, the magazines, the stupid math and percentages. The order girls had been eliminated in the past and the high castes increasing.

“Hey, hey,” his hands were suddenly on my shoulders and that stopped me, my eyes landing on his hands. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

I gave him a warning look and he took his hands away. I could take a guess at what he was thinking. “It’s a terrible idea.” “But you can read this?” His excitement was clear on a smile.

I looked at the ceiling with a sigh. “Kind of I guess. With some more time...” He didn’t let me finish, pulling me to him. I blinked in his arms, too stunned to react. Brooks was hugging me. “What-”

“Bless you. Follow me.” He let go and dragged me out of the library. I snapped out of my confusion midway in the hallway.

“Slow down, I’m not a rag doll.” “Quit whining, Teasdale.”

I gave him a cold stare once we arrived at his door. He pretended not to notice and pulled me inside, closing the door and then locking it. I raised an eyebrow.

“Someone else would find that creepy just so you know.” He gave me an exasperated look, slowly reaching for the doorknob again and unlocking it as if proving a point. “There. Shut up for two seconds now.”

Going over to some drawers and rummaging through them, he told me to come. I rolled my eyes but did as he asked when he added a “please.” Then, pulling out a chair for me at the table in his room, he opened the journal. “I've been taking notes on different things I find out about the Selection. Past conspiracies, ex-selected, drama, etc. I'm looking for patterns.”

I set my annoyance aside and sat down, intrigued by what he could’ve found himself. I’d never seen him excited like that. “Do you have anything?” He showed me his notes.“I've done the math, and the numbers of relevant girls in each selection has risen every time.” “It was 48% on your mother’s.” “And 51% for Nate's.” He had the same numbers as me.

I clenched my jaw and stood up. “I need to talk to my dad.”

Reaching for my hand, he urged me to sit down. “Clove, you can't do that. Do you know what could happen?” “I don't know, but the pile of things he has to explain can't seem to stop growing.” “Do you know nothing about politics? Take it from an inside outsider, you don't want them knowing what you know.” I was aware of that, but disappointment and anger wrestled to take over and make me go back up there, guards or not, to yell at my dad for answers, demand he explain himself. Maybe even hoping he didn’t know and he’d help me uncover the truth. It would be a stupid move, however.

Silence settled in the room as my shoulders slumped. Brooks said nothing, letting it stretch for a minute or so, probably having his own thoughts to go over. Eventually, he added, “Hey, I know we're not actually the best of friends... but I could really use your help.” And I could use it too. Earlier that day, I hadn’t been sure I’d get anywhere with my little research, I just couldn’t bring myself to drop it either. Now I had another piece to the puzzle. I had a possible confirmation. Possible proof all because of...Brooks.

Neither of us would get answers alone and I needed them, so I met his gaze, letting determination overshadow everything else in my mind. “I’m in.”

“Way to go, Teasdale,” he grinned, hand raised to offer a high five. I stared at it for a moment, thrown off.

“Are you okay?” He slowly let it fall back down. “Uh, yeah... Why?” “Well... you're being.. nice. I'm trying to determine if this is one of those ‘one in a lifetime’ moments because you need me, or if Quinn was right.” He raised both eyebrows, asking what his older sister had mentioned of him and I explained that she seemed to believe he was actually trying to be nice but I coulnd’t see it.

Something like shame crossed his eyes as he looked down, playing around with a set of pens on his desk. “I-I've always been nice.”

I leaned on the table with my elbows. “Yeah, that hasn't become any more believable than the last time you said it.” “I hope you're enjoying your seat,” he propmted, giving a flat look I was quick to return.

“What a gentleman.” “Just for you,” he almost cooed, tapping my nose with his finger. It took me a second to react and wrinkle my nose.

“Don't make me regret my decision. I could take the journal and work alone.” “Not gonna happen. Speaking of you taking the journal, I want you to try and figure out what the writing in the margin says.” “I’ll try to work on it.” I reached for the journal, examining the margins with old penmanship. “The ink is kinda smudged on some parts but I’ll figure it out.” “Thanks for doing this. I owe you.” “I’ll keep that in mind... Neither of us is telling anyone about this, right?” “Definitely not. Not until it gets far enough.” I stood up, taking a deep breath. “Alright. It’s an agreement.” Unsure of how to end the strange encounter I decided to go for something formal, extending my hand for him to shake. He reached for it slowly, the same hesitation I’d had at his suggestion of a high five. Or so it was until he opened his mouth again. “We've made so much contact in such a short span of time.” “You just had to make it weird, didn’t you?” “That? That's not weird. This?” he held my hand and pulled me close. Close enough to share the same breathing space. “This is weird.” My eyes could only widen in surprise before I pushed him off his chair with the same hand he’d pulled me with. A sound resembling a pterodactyl shriek escaped his lips as he fell back.

“AND YOU SAY I'M MEAN?” he screamed, sitting up on the floor. I snorted a laugh, but then cleared my throat. “Serves you right.” “Abuse is wrong.” I scoffed. “Invading personal space is wrong.”

He scoffed too. “Yep, still dramatic.” “Fine,” I hugged the journal to my chest, “I might be keeping this for myself then if I'm so dramatic.” He gestured to me. “That's just proving my point.” I said nothing and turned to the door, but as I did someone on the other side opened it, poking a head inside. Quinn. Dang, I should’ve let him lock it.

“Well, then...” Quinn shut the door quickly, “I'm going to go.”

“Wait up, I’m leaving as well!” I called out. “I'm feeling the love,” Brooks mumbled, still from his spot on the ground. I gave him a fake smile, like the one he'd given me the first morning in breakfast. “The floor loves you too.”

#brooks tag #quinn tag #barnes and rogers tag #challenges #teasdale's tag #i hope the ending isn't bad lol #enjoy!#//fics

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italianexotiicbeauty · 4 years

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Mary Savarese / Phoenix Fire

[ A HAUNTING IN MYSTIC. ] // [ cameos: Kelly Savarese-Becker & Reuben Gimness! * with permission ] In ghostlore, a haunted house or ghost house is a house or other building often perceived as being inhabited by disembodied spirits of the deceased who may have been former residents or were otherwise connected with the property. Being in a different body with the exact same consciousness in another timeline sounded almost like it was science fiction, matter of fact it likely would seem to be an episode of at least The Twilight Zone. However, it was in fact a reality for one Mary Savarese - the fates did not think her job was done and manipulated not just TIME but SPACE as well to bring her consciousness into another body ( and her powers followed a few days later ). Suppose it helped they somehow mystically found a woman who had been in a coma for two weeks, but of course when she woke up whomever that woman had been did not exist. No, when she opened her eyes - guess who she had seen standing near her bedside? Her older sister, Kelly. How else did she know that she was herself and not the person she took over?! Plus, that reminded her of that one Stargate: Atlantis episode where Cadman was also trapped inside McKay, yes she literally asked in her own mind about twenty times if she was the only consciousness inhabiting that body. No response every single time answered that. Guess what she was also still fully aware of? How fragmented her memory was so when she asked Kelly why she had been in the hospital? The elder Savarese for a second looked bewildered before recollecting her younger sister's memory, "You fell into one of the tanks at Mystic Aquarium - they are not sure . . . how you even got in, all they found on you were your keys, wallet and those four bracelets." . . . Three for four, get you in the door. A voice in the corner of her mind seemed to whisper, making her expression crestfallen instead of shocked which alarmed her sister. "Mare? I know you had been at Katie's grave earlier that day, and then Nonna Rita's -- you weren't trying to join them were you?" Blinking a few times, a familiar look of anger made her sister take a step back at the suggestion. "Okay, my mistake for even thinking that. Don't . . . melt or burn anything." Thankfully, that did not happen nor did Kelly seem at all aware that Mary was currently without her powers. "I realize that my best friend since junior high has been dead for almost three years now, and Grandma Rita has been dead longer but we both know the only thoughts I ever struggle with? What to have for dinner." In this timeline, Mary did not seem to have her dogs - she checked her wallet and if they existed? There would be pictures of them in there but there weren't. "I want a dog." Kelly seemed genuinely taken aback by her sister's random statement, "What breed?" The nurse walked in with the release papers, Mary had to take it easy for the next few days and Kelly drove her back to the hotel she was staying at. For some reason, she had removed her wallet, keys, and the bracelets before dropping into the tank. Which tank? . . . The shark tank. With cuts on both palms, so they ruled out a suicide and somehow the camera feed was all wonky as well. Mary flopped, face first onto the bed with a groan before rolling onto her back. "A Greenland Husky, a Bernese Mountain Dog, a Doberman, a Beligian Malinois, a Corgi, and a German Shepherd - or just one of those." Carefully, Mary sat up as Kelly handed over her niece who cooed and babbled at her aunt - seems that in this timeline, Kelly still had both kids and her husband. "Question, before you go back home . . ." She was snuggling her niece before watching her crawl on the bed, dark eyes watching the little one before her mother picked her up again and put her back in the car seat. "Yes?" Both eyebrows raised as Kelly looked to her younger sister, then turning to smile down at her daughter. ". . . By some chance there was not a shiny gold wrist communicator like right out of power rangers found with me, was there?" Mary bit on her lower lip, feeling the familiar protrusion of her piercing when teeth reached the left corner of the flesh. Ooh! Still have that and likely all of my ink! She thought to herself while looking up at Kelly again. "Well?" "Thought my silence answered that question, that's a no." Shaking her head, Kelly leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her baby sister's temple before covering her daughter with the little blanket that occupied the car seat with her. "Just try and get some rest okay? Not sure why you were even at Mystic, but just go on home to Savannah." Forcing a smile and a nod like she was ACTUALLY going to listen, Mary waved as Kelly left the hotel room with her niece as well. As soon as they were out of the room, her expression changed and immediately she searched the entire room for either her phone, laptop or tablet. Thankfully, both her phone and laptop were locked up in the little room safe, so she plugged them both in and powered up her laptop to check something in an email. Clicking on one of the opened emails, eyebrows furrowing as she clicked a link and a news article popped up. SIX FOUND DEAD IN MYSTIC AQUARIUM MYSTERIOUSLY NEAR THE SHARK TANK. PALMS CUT AND ALL DROWNED. Not that anyone would see it, but her expression paled a little when she clicked on another link from the exact same email that brought her to a forum page. They found a Ouija board and black candles, a friend of mine works for the crime scene clean-up and they had them throw it out along with other known occult items! One user had mentioned, another responded. Sounds about right, like they are trying to not create a mass panic or some shït! Totally a haunting now. ". . . Son of a biaaaaaaaaatch." She rested her forehead on the palms of her hands before scrolling down a little more to read another comment, Guuuuuys! A well known medium in our community did a podcast the other night about thiiiis!! Her spirit guides are warning no one to go there, it's a W R A I T H! " . . . Oh jeeze, that explains so much but the fūck?! Why did I survive?! . . . O h." Dangling around her neck still, was the lone white angel feather which explained how she survived the attack. A wraith is an undead creature whose name originated in Scottish folklore. A type of ghost or spirit, wraiths were traditionally said to be the embodiment of souls who are either on the verge of death, or who have recently passed on. In modern times, the concept of a wraith is more likely to refer to an evil spirit, particularly one which has unfinished business in the mortal realm. They are typically depicted as skeletal figures draped in tattered rags, and are most commonly associated with graveyards or other haunted locales. The modern perception of a wraith is that of an entity which actively seeks harm to those that it encounters, no matter their motivation. ". . . About a thousand miles from noooooowherrrreeeee!" She softly sang to herself while looking something up, turning on her phone to take a few notes before turning off her laptop. WEST HAVEN, CONNECTICUT // 7:45 PM. the alley behind duffy's tavern. Leaning against the brick wall between the bar and another building, Mary checked her watch one time before a portal opened up behind her in the shape of a door. "Mary Savarese?" A dark voice called from within, she tapped her nails on the brick three times. The being spoke again, "What is it you require?" "Four silver bullets, and a silver stake just in case." The being made a noise in it's chest before a small box slid out. "Lovely." She waited until the portal closed again before picking up the box and opening it, inside sat the bullets and the silver stake. "Excellent, the bullets for the heart and throw the stake at the head just to make sure." The box snapped shut and she exited the alley for the lot across the street where her rental was parked, opening up the little backpack in the front seat and taking out the Beretta Px4 storm to empty the bullets from the magazine, as well as the round in the chamber in exchange for the four silver bullets. Once the gun was reloaded, she placed the stake inside the backpack as well and drove back to her hotel. She cringed as she noticed three missed calls from her sister and sighed, deciding to text her back instead. SMS: Kelly I know you wanted me to go home to Savannah but I got unfinished business here. Then I am hopping the first flight out but NOT back to Georgia. SMS: Kelly I'm heading to Virginia Beach an' locatin' an unsuspectin' ex of mine for cuddles after this. Pretty certain he won't turn me down. SMS: Kelly Still thinks I am cute. Turning off the phone, she packed up everything in the room save for the outfit she would wear tomorrow. The suitcase was left open on the floor as every light but the one in the bathroom was turned off, three of the bracelets were on and she could feel the familiar pull at her stomach - like getting ready to travel through a portkey or apparating - she stepped in the far corner of the room and within seconds was within the dark halls of the aquarium. Thankfully, she was near the same location as she had been during her last visit -- oh yes, she remembered which meant that access to the shark tank was just down the hall and behind a locked door. Within seconds though, she was on the other side of the door and half-way up the darkened stairs. The backpack was left hanging on the end of the railing at the top of the stairs, soon she became ignited from head to toe in flames before walking up the rest of the way. Seconds later, she was on the platform that was used by the aquarium staff to feed or check the marine life and it was obvious which tank was the shark one because it was now taped off. Or . . . SHOULD HAVE BEEN. The tape was cut in one section and she could hear voices coming from another area. One in particular caught her attention as a group of people - carrying flashlights and recording equipment - came into view. "Oh, hell has SOOOO frozen over - Reuben Gimness, who in the HÉLL let you investigate?!" At the sound of the familiar voice, Reuben looked over to the shark tank where it came from. "Holy shït -- Hey Mary! Uh, the good people on the board of this fine establishment?" He smiled charmingly, or tried to but started saying ow ow ow ow ow on repeat when she came over and grabbed his ear. "Oh, really? Did you just HAPPEN to leave out the part about bringing tarot cards AND a ouija board to the Opera house here and causing it to be further haunted? No? Yeah did not think so!" Giving his ear a more harsh pinch before letting go, her arms crossed her chest as she glared at him. ". . . Can't BELIEVE you still remember that, come oooon! I am capable!" "Yeah and you do not read texts from books that manifest demonic santa's to hunt us like wild boar either." Her tone snappy as Reuben rubbed the back of his neck, looking at his group of ghost hunters then back at Mary. "Why am I even surprised, a walking spirit box is exactly what this needs - it's a WRAITH Reuben. Or did you just leave that out from when you accepted this case, and enlisted the help of your spooky crew here? Hm?" Mary then tossed the silver stake at Reuben who caught it, "Since you are the tallest out of all these yahoos you decided to endanger - you get to stab it in the head to insure it will not be coming back." Reuben had caught the stake as Mary motioned for the others to hunker down for safety in the starways so they did not get flung around like ragdolls. Reuben had been about to say something when the lights flickered before going off, Mary heard one or two of the Ghostfacer's scream. "Turn off all your flashlights. " The flames around Mary illuminated the area brightly as she stepped away from Reuben, watching the shadows. Extending the light forward, she saw a flicker of movement before pulling Reuben down to the floor with her as the wraith roared in rage as it flew at them. "Seems round two is off to a good start." When she said that, Reuben stared at her. "Oh uh, another story to share over pizza from Pepe's and Foxon Parks I promise." Rolling onto her back, the familiar sound of a hammer clicking back echoed a little in the room."Would now be a good time to ask if you have a plan?" Thankfully, the floor beneath them was dry and the entire front of her body was now wreathed in flames. He could see her glaring at him, the Px4 Storm was lying beside her and her right hand was the only part of her not illuminated by a brilliant orangey-red hue. "I am going to ask you that same question, or better yet !! Watch your dumbass ask Sam or Dean Winchester that one. For the record, yes - four silver bullets to the heart and that stake through its skull to seal the deal." "Where did you learn that?" "You kiddin'? I troll a hunter's forum for advice." Reuben chuckled and then winced when she punched him. "Guuuys!!! It's coming baaack!!" Swearing under her breath, Mary raised the gun into the air as the wraith flew over them and took a gamble - opening fire just as it did, two of the bullets piercing the heart just enough to slow it down. Reuben scrambled to his feet and ran full speed ahead, jumping in order to drive the stake through the wraith's skull . . . which he succeeded in doing but got flung into the nearest wall as the creature began roaring during its final moments. The whole room shaking, Mary grabbed a hold of something when a pocket of air imploded and sent whatever wasn't nailed down flying as it disappeared from sight. The lights came back on and the mice hiding on the stairs raced over to see if their fearless leader was okay, Mary moved back down the stairs for the locked door - backpack in hand and disappeared into the darkness again. BRADLEY INTL. AIRPORT // HARTFORD, CT. 4:45 am. Tiredly, Mary settled into one of the seats near the boarding gate for her very early morning flight to Virginia Beach. She had returned the gun to her safe in Savannah since it was one of the unregistered ones, flying with that would be trouble. Just as she moved to take a sip of her iced latte from Dunkin Donuts, her phone buzzed a few times with texts from Reuben. THREE BODIES END UP MYSTERIOUSLY IN THE CONNECTICUT RIVER NEAR GILLETTE CASTLE. STAFF AND VISITORS REFUSING TO BE ANYWHERE NEAR THE LOCATION WITHOUT ARMED SECURITY. RUMORS OF A MASSIVE BLACK SHADOW WITH YELLOW EYES BEING SEEN . . Mary groaned faintly and just shut her phone off, not even bothering to respond and sipped her caffeinated beverage while waiting for her flight to come in.

#[ please do not reblog. ]#[ alt timeline metahuman mare. ]#[ one shot story // vignette. ]#[ not based on anything portrayed here via tumblr. ]

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