#I WANT TO MEET ALL THREE BUT I AM ONE GIRL (maybe) WITH LIMITED FUNDS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

la-fille-en-aiguilles · 4 years ago

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Dog Tags

Billy Russo x Female!Reader

Request by @nebulastarr : Hey! Whenever requests open up again, could you do a Billy Russo x Reader where the reader liked Billy but doesn’t want to tell him because she thinks he won’t feel the same way

A/N: I was going to wait and get down to writing this once I was finished with my series... But this one has simply hit a little too close to home. I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I saw it and I ended up putting a lot of personal stuff in it so I’m sorry if it feels chaotic at times. Thank you for requesting, love, I hope it lives up to your expectations. The Only Living Thing series will be back with its third part next week. The song: Isak Danielson - Power

All you heard was an excited scream, that raised above all of the New York’s past-6-pm commotion, as a slender tall body smashed into you, locking you in a bone-crushing hug. You laughed happily, albeit feeling a little bit uncomfortable in Karen’s strong hold. You knew it didn’t seem that way, but Karen packed a wicked punch in those elegant arms of hers. Those self-defense sessions with Frankie boy that she’s been gushing about over the phone must have been finally paying off.

“Once I am done hugging you, I am so kicking your ass,” she breathed out into your hair as she squeezed you harder, as if reading your thoughts. “You’ve been ghosting me for what, a month now?”

You sighed guiltily as Karen pushed you slightly away, keeping her hands on your shoulders. You watched her as she studied your face, a creeping smile stinging at the corners of her mouth.

Grabbing one of her elbows, you groaned dramatically, pulling her towards the busy road. With your hands locked, you finally admitted:

“I did suck at communicating these past couple of weeks. Work’s been…. hectic”, the lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but this was the best explanation you’ve been able to come up with so far. “Please don’t kill me”.

Trying to keep up with your power walk, Karen let a bubbling laughter leave her lips.

“You’re not the one who should be worried then,” she gave you one of those bright trademark smiles of hers. “Next time I’m going to interview Russo, I’ll…”

You stuttered at her tirade as you walked, and of course it didn’t go by unnoticed. Karen was the best journalist you have ever met during your prominent career. She just sensed that sort of thing.

“I’m getting this ‘I-meant-to-tell-you-Karen-but-I-didn’t-and-now-you’ll-need-to-fight-it-out-of-me’ vibe”, she gave you a scrutinising look. “Want to maybe share whatever it is you’ve been not telling me before I go full interrogation mode on your plump backside?”

You rolled your eyes as you led her to a terrace-ringed Upper East Side high-rise, waving to the doorman through the glass doors. Jackson, a thirty-five year old ex-military with three kids and a labrador, gave you a brilliant smile as he hurried to open them for you.

“Good evening, Mrs Y/L/N!” He bowed his head in a stiff, very army-like manner. “A package arrived this afternoon for you, should I bring it up?”

From the corner of your eye, you caught Karen looking around, confusion written all over her face. You had a lot to catch up on.

“Don’t worry about it, Jax, just give it to me,” you didn’t mean to urge him, but you couldn’t wait to change out of your corporate attire into some comfortable old pyjamas and crack open a bottle of whiskey - that’s right, some habits did die hard. And to think you were a bubbles-kind of girl a year ago when you met him.

You could feel Karen’s blue eyes drill a hole in the back of your head as you took a small, envelope-sized package from Jackson’s hands.

It wasn’t until you both stepped into the elevator that Karen cleared her throat.

“When you said you’d rather have a girls’ night in, I asked Frank to pick me up from Queens, not from…here,” she spoke, her eyes skimming expensive red wood and mirrors. “Did you finally sleep with Russo and moved in with him?”

Whatever it was that Karen expected you to say to that, it definitely didn’t include you spitting out a roaring laugh, as you nearly dropped the package on the floor.

“Quite the opposite, actually,” you informed her after you finally restored your breath. “I left Anvil. And, well, Russo. At the end of last month”.

—

A half-bottle of whiskey for you and a bottle of white wine for Karen later, both of you were sprawled out on the lambskins thrown over the hardwood floor in your living room. Jazz music was seeping out of the speakers by the TV, a couple of Diptyque candles emitting a soft yellow glow.

You stared at the ceiling of your new living quarters, your mind a blur. As you folded your hands on your stomach, you felt Karen twitch as she bent her elbow and leaned her blond head on the palm of her hand, facing you.

“So let me get this straight,” she paused, narrowing her eyes. “After becoming the Forbes’ hottest CSO, concluding what can easily be described as deals of the century - especially the one with Anthony Stark aka Iron Man and his magnificent goatee…”

Involuntary, you giggled at this. This talk brought out some very dear memories that you wouldn’t trade for the world - the way Billy’s dark eyes shimmered in the dim lights of the opera house as he gave you a look that said you did it, ever the perfect team… Or the way he threw his arms around your frame, his long fingers sliding down your back… You knew you looked good in that dress, but the moment Billy saw you wearing it… You felt like the only girl in the world, the way his jaw dropped a tad, his lips opening up in awe…

Oookay, Y/N, can’t go there, your mind screamed at you as you wiped that dreamy smile off your face. Sitting down, you took your whiskey glass, and washed those memories away with a gulp of amber liquid.

Meanwhile, Karen ranted on.

“…you just quit?!”

She jumped to her feet all of the sudden, brushing her blond hair away from her face as she watched you excitedly.

“Jesus Christ, did Billy make a move?! He made a move on you, didn’t he?”

The urge to facepalm was fierce, almost overpowering, but you managed to resist. Slamming your empty glass against the floor harder than you intended, you gave her a bored look.

“No, Karen, why… Why in the world would you think that?” You sounded just a little short of desperate, so you cleared your throat. “I was his second-in-command, that wouldn’t have been appropriate…”

When you were done studying the flame, dancing within the glass walls of one of the nearby candles, you raised your eyes to meet Karen’s. She wore quite possibly the most blatant look of ‘you are shitting me’ on her face.

“So you just quit?” she stared at you in disbelief, unblinking. “No explanations provided?”

“This wasn’t how it happened,” you said, hating the fact that you felt like you had to justify yourself. You brought your knees closer, hugging them tightly. “I…”

—

“…I’m here to see William Russo”.  

With a nonchalant gesture, you unbuttoned your Burberry coat, looking at a red-head secretary behind a desk that screamed power and status with every inch of its epic proportions.

Anvil was certainly new money. With all of those hedge funds injecting their cash into emerging companies, there was no shortage of these - entrepreneurial endeavours that didn’t last long.

You didn’t know that at the time, but you were going to make sure this one would.

“My name is Y/N Y/N/L,” you added, perching your sunglasses on top of your head. “He’s expecting me.”

The red-head gave you a polite smile before checking something on her Mac.

“Welcome, Miss Y/N/L,” she almost seemed shy, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before standing up. “Mr Russo is indeed waiting for you. If you would like to follow me, please”.

As the redhead led you through the training grounds, packed with fit men and women that looked like they walked straight outta Gym Shark ad, you did notice a couple of vagrant stares in your direction. You couldn’t blame them. You looked slightly out of place; more Vogue than the setting allowed for.

You quit your job as the COO of a global FinTech company just weeks ago, looking for a new challenge. It was an adventure of a lifetime, and while your ex-executive board had literally begged you to stay, once you’d decided something, no promise of a generous promotion could make you change your mind. While you absolutely loved your job, working for one of the most prominent online payment giants in the world, it felt like it was time for you to step down. Due to all the processes and wise investments you’d initiated, the company could make millions of profits without their CEO having so much as to lift a finger.

And you, well, you lived for the hustle. And that’s exactly what you were here for.

You still had your doubts about Anvil’s owner and acting CEO, though. William “Billy” Russo had already become a household name in the financial circles, albeit the company he was spearheading had little to do with the FinTech space. Some said he had the potential to succeed; others badmouthed him for being ruthless and balancing on the very edge of legal limits.

In short, the man had you intrigued. So the very moment he called and invited you to drop by Anvil to talk strategy, you knew you had to meet him.

See the beast for yourself, so to speak.

The first thing you noticed about William Russo as you walked into his office, spacious and entirely transparent, with its glass walls overlooking the training grounds, was experience, for the lack of a better word. It was etched into his every handsome feature, especially into his scruff strong-willed jaw. As he raised his gaze to meet yours upon the red-head’s announcement, his black eyes swallowing you whole, you realized no light reflected on their surface. There was a certain confidence to him as he raised from his chair, his white shirt straining some over his chest, long dark strands of hair falling onto his long eyelashes. This man meant business, as those black impenetrable eyes zeroed in on yours. He almost seemed too flawless - to spotless to be an ex-marine, stained with blood and murder.

All that Hallmark handsomeness was nothing but a cover.

Before William Russo had even got a chance to open his mouth, you were determined to find out what was lurking underneath.

“Mrs Y/L/N”, the hot-shot gave you a polite smile. “Thank you for coming”.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Russo”, you didn’t move an inch. He may have invited you for interview, but he wasn’t the only one with a long set of demands.

You briefly wondered if he knew that.

Before your thoughts could take you further, William Russo made his way to you, composed and calculated. He stopped by your side, albeit for a moment; rolling the sleeves of his shirt further up, he shot the red-head a charming smile (nothing like the one he gave you).

“Olivia, would you please bring a fresh pot of coffee to the conference room? Mrs Y/L/N and I have a lot to discuss”.

When he turned back to face you, you noted unconsciously that he was taller than you expected, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders. The cool and composed look was back on his face as he motioned towards the doors.

“Would you like to follow me, Mrs…”

“Y/N”, you cut in with a slight raise of your chin. “I’d also prefer to call you William while I tear Anvil’s strategy down”.

His reaction didn’t disappoint. Some tension left his arms, his stung-up body relaxing just enough for a spark of mischief and curiosity flicker its way to his eyes’ surface.

A twinkle of a smile danced across his lips as he bit on the inside of his cheek, nodding ever so slightly in approval.

“It’s Billy”, he said, amusement echoing in his every word. "I don’t expect any leniency, Y/N”.

“Good”, you replied instantly, looking him straight into his eyes. “That’s not what I came here for”.

He nodded again.

And this time, there was liveliness in the quirk of his brow and a touch of insecurity in the corners of his mouth.

Now that was the man you could potentially work with.

—

Working with William Russo was anything but predictable. There were, however, certain patterns to his way of handling things. Whatever the trouble was, Billy was good at seeing the bigger picture - he was usually able to put things into perspective, but there were occasions when he refused to. You dare say that sometimes, you felt like he thought that money didn’t matter - like Anvil’s financial prosperity didn’t matter - as long as his team got not to risk their lives one extra time. You watched him turn down several lucrative deals that you’d busted your ass to put on his table, because it involved sending his men a little too far from home, in a place where he had no strings to pull whatsoever should anything go south. A part of you (the part that wasn’t frustrated as hell) admired him for that - it didn’t, however, stop you from disagreeing with him, time and again.

You may have never been to Iraq, and may have never known the horrors of sleeping with the bombs exploding a mere kilometer away, but you knew a game-changer when you saw it. There were risks involved, there was no arguing about that, but those were calculated, and those kind of deals could make Anvil jump straight to the top of the private military sector overnight.

William and you disagreed.

When William and you disagreed, no voice was raised, no blood was spilt, but Billy usually became distant, cold and just short of snappy when those conversations took place. 

He only crossed the line once.

  You were three months into your job as Anvil’s Chief Strategy Officer when Mayhew happened.

The clock on your desk showed midnight as you paced in your office, on the phone with Rex Mayhew, the U.S. Ambassador in Cairo. A cat-and-mouse game between the Egyptian Armed Forces and the nefarious arms dealer group had become common knowledge since a week or so; the U.S. special forces got involved in the conflict when it’d been discovered that the arms were being transported onto American soil. Rex, an old friend from your Yale days, had let you in on the fact that General Richard Ravelin, in charge of the operation, was looking to reinforce his rangs with private military before “neutralising the threat”. This was a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity, with a potential governmental recognition in play… and Billy wanted to hear nothing of it.

You were exhausted and barely hanging in there; Billy was categorical and stubborn.

You’ve dropped the phone on your table promising Rex you were going to give him an answer in two hours, tops. Taking a deep breath, you walked out of your office, your bare feet thudding on the parquet floors of the corridor. When you reached Billy’s hideout, you found the man leaning against his desk with a glass of whiskey in his unnerved hand.

“Billy…” you spoke firmly, barely stepping through the doorway. “Rex…”

“Can go fuck himself”.

Oh, okay. No sugarcoating this. Alright.

You saw his lips barely touch the amber liquid as he slammed the glass against the surface of his desk.

“I said no, Y/N,” he wasn’t facing you anymore, leaning on his desk with his hands digging into the wood, his back tense. “Please just go home. Have a good night sleep. We will talk about this tomorrow.”

You could have sworn you felt your head starting to fume. This was the third time Billy Russo was shutting you down. For the third time he was making you feel like an incompetent fool when you were trying to do your goddamn job.

Why in hell would he hire you if whatever vision you had for Anvil didn’t match with his own?!

“You could at least say this to my face, Billy,” you spoke a bit harshly before you could stop yourself. “You know, to my tired and disappointed face, with a mouth that you have been shutting up every time it offers you a deal of the century”.

This sounded so much better in your head.

“Why did you hire me?” you asked almost immediately, trying to soften the impact of the words that had already escaped. “If this isn’t the direction in which you want to take your company, maybe I should just…��

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Y/N, just fucking leave already!” Billy snapped like a branch that’s been holding too much weight, the sound of it dry and final.

…maybe I should just rethink the entire plan.

There was no point in finishing that sentence now, was there?

“I was there long before you came along, so I’d think I know a shitstorm in the making when I see one!” Billy was looking at you alright, brushing his hair back, his eyes black and void.

You had wished It would have been new to you - looking in William Russo’s eyes and not seeing him there. But it wasn’t. He was back to his Hallmark version of a man, but instead of playing a hero, he was now putting on his villain guise.

“Let’s get something straight here,” he leaned back on his desk, crossing his arms on his chest, his black eyes narrowed. “While you were making your way to the top of a rich-ass cookie-cutter FinTech company, I was crawling in the dirt in Iraq under a downpour of the Trident D5LE missiles. While the closest thing you’ve come to havin’ your hands dirty was bribing an investor or two, I was fucking beheadin’ people under the direction of the CIA,” his words were cold, measured and rhythmic, like a round of bullets being fired on a range. “You know nothing of what’s it like to be in the middle of that kind of shit show, princess, so when I fucking say no, you listen. Is that clear?”

Bark. Sit. Roll over.

“Crystal. Sir.”, you finally broke the heavy silence hanging in the air, just barely resisting the urge to salute him. “I’ll see myself out.”

Biting the inside of your cheek like your life depended on it, once you turned your back on him, your first thought was don’t you dare cry on his account, bitch and then almost right away wait at least until you’re home.

You could have sworn you heard William call your name in a stranded voice, but you made sure to slam the door somewhat hard as you left his office so you could pretend you didn’t hear him.

If you were to face him now, with all that power and toughness he exuded… You would never admit it, even to yourself, but you’d just end up on the floor, huddled into a shivering little ball.

—

You were grateful that the next day after the shit went down with Mayhew fell on a Friday. When you stumbled into your apartment in Queens at almost one in the morning, you immediately shot an email to the HR department asking for a day off. Once that’d been done, you dialled Rex to decline his offer to introduce Anvil to general Ravelin, washed the makeup off your face and crawled into bed, hugging the second pillow close to your chest.

You didn’t cry, if that’s what you’re wondering.

As you rolled out of bed in the morning at around 8 am, you took a shower and grabbed a coffee from the kitchen before settling behind your home office desk with a heavy head. When you opened up the Keynote presentation with your strategy outlined for the H1, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at the iPhone you left on your couch last night.

You weren’t going to check if you had any missing calls.

There was nothing you had left to say to each other.

…with your chest hollow, you powered up the screen. There were no missed calls and no new messages.

It all looked like you had another strategy to build now. If Billy Russo thought that calling you a rich-ass princess that knew nothing of the world, all butterflies and rainbows, was going to make you resign, then man, was he in for a surprise.

You once heard one of his men compare you to a military convoy, when the guy thought you weren’t listening.

He had no idea.

You spent the morning refilling you coffee cup and rebuilding your H1 plan from scratch. After about eleven calls with the people you knew could get you a foot in the door of the offices of some government officials, billionaires and generals, after typing, deleting and typing again for 5 hours straight, by 2pm you had a solid game plan. You were pretty sure it would still need some tweaking from Castle, who essentially held the role of the Chief Operating Officer, dispatching men and women on missions and planning operations, and, well, from Billy Russo.

The Badass-ex-Sniper-turned-CEO himself.

You kept the email short and to-the-point, sending the document over to Russo with Castle on copy, saying you’d be in the office to debrief on Monday.   Refusing to check whether your email’d been opened, you slammed your MacBook shut.

The rest of the day rolled on uneventfully. You grabbed a coffee with the People Culture Officer from your previous company, who also happened to be one of your dearest friends; then you picked up your dry cleaners and did some shopping, cracking for a pair of new shoes in Saks Fifth Avenue.

Shoes were, indeed, your weakness.

By the time you got home, the tired sun was yawning, stretching its rays in one last effort before rolling into bed. Humming a Dua Lipa song under your breath, you were putting your new Jimmy Choo’s away when you suddenly heard your phone ring.

You didn’t even have to look at it to know who it was.   You checked the time, however, noticing is was two minutes after the official end of the working day.

“Hi, Y/N”, Billy spoke, clearing his throat. “Are you… Um… Any chance you’re available to meet tonight? I would really appreciate it if you could give me fifteen minutes of your time. Please.”

It sounded like the real Billy Russo was back around. Insecure. Rugged. Imperfect.

“Can you pick me up?” you asked softly, “I’ll text you my address. There’s a pizza place just around the corner, I could use a free slice”, you circled the cold coffee cup you left on the counter with your finger. “Free as in you’re paying, Russo”.

A laugh that came somewhere from within caressed your ear.

“Uh, yes, I’m actually… Yeah, thanks. I’m leaving the office now,” even if he tried to hide it, a shocked surprise still seeped through the cracks in between the vowels.

You chuckled silently at his reaction.

“Just one more thing,” you ventured, placing the cup in the sink and making your way to the balcony - your small piece of heaven with a wooden chair, pillows and lavender. As you stepped outside, you put oyour free hand on the railing, just to feel the coolness of it, the evening air and the gentle flower smell stroking your skin. “What kind of car should I be on the lookout for?”

Billy hesitated, biting his bottom lip, running his nervous fingers through the thick strands of dark hair. The setting sun was hitting him just from the right angle, making his sculpted cheeks look like they were made of marble.

“A Rolls Royce Wraith”, he squirmed, rubbing his forehead, probably realising how lame and pretentious it sounded. “I’ll call you once I’m downstairs”.

“Uh-huh”, you smirked, leaning on the railing with your forearms.

You saw Russo pinch the bridge of his nose, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip again.   Your small balcony provided quite a view, when you really thought about it.

“Don’t take too long”, you couldn’t help it, it really was stronger than you. “I’m starving”.

With a wide grin, you dropped the call and went back into your apartment.

You were planning to make him wait for ten extra minutes when he would finally “arrive”.

Just for the hell of it.

—

“That’s a lot of hot sauce for one pizza”, Billy commented, watching you spray your truffles and cheese generously with the piquant olive oil.

You gave him a mischievous smile.

“What can I say,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair and licking the tip of your finger after you swept a drop of it from the top of the bottle. “I like them hot”.

That startled a laugh out of Billy as he eyed you with something in his irises looking a lot like awe.

Just when he was about to speak, a servant brought a glass of red wine for him and bottle of sparkling water for you.

You thanked the guy with a sweet smile, while Billy eyed him a bit coldly, obviously waiting for him to leave.

When the waiter had finally made himself scarce, Billy softly called your name.

You raised your eyes to meet him, struggling as hell to keep your stare vacant. (Which was hard to do with some foreign tightness in your throat).

“Before we dig in and I hope spend a nice evening as two friends, getting together on a Friday night”, he didn’t even blink? Was he blinking? You couldn’t tell, his black eyes swallowing you whole, again. “I want to apologise. I was completely out of line… It was unacceptable. You don’t need my validation, of course, but I still want you to know that you are doing a terrific job at Anvil, taking us to the heights I never even thought existed. It’s just… It’s hard for me sometimes to be a good CEO and someone who promised to take care of my men at the same time… Everything is happening so fast, I’m afraid to lose my footing.”

You reached out for his hand across the table before you could stop yourself. You didn’t take it, but your fingers brushed his ever so slightly before you realized what you were just about to do. Your eyes widened as you looked at him, searching for a reaction.   Billy remained perfectly still, not taking his eyes off you.

You grabbed a napkin next to his wrist, pretending this was what you had meant to do all along.   “We’ll get there, Billy”, you said, a small encouraging smile blooming on your lips. “We just need some tweaking”.

You weren’t sure if you were talking about strategy at this point anymore.

—

You had a great time at dinner.

(And a whole-hearted laugh as Billy finished your remainders of the truffle pizza, downing a litre of water to numb down the burning sensation in his throat afterwards).

You talked about your respective lives, your ex-colleagues, your hopes for the future… You dared think this who the real Billy Russo was.

And he was incredible.

After the two of you were done with dinner, you offered him to come upstairs to your place and go through the new strategy together. He didn’t hesitate, although you could swear you’d seen something ambiguous flash in the depths of his dark eyes before he nodded.

(You must have imagined it.)

The two of you ended up sprawled out on your soft faux fur carpet talking game plan, bouncing ideas off each other. You watched Billy frown, as he rubbed his mouth with his long fingers, smile in excitement and shake his head in awe when you voiced your ideas - you felt proud and appreciated, and you wouldn’t trade the sensation for anything in the world.

A couple of hours later the two of you had finally decided that it was enough brainstorming for one night, and you rose to your feet to go and make Billy a coffee before he got behind the wheel. As you pushed the start button on your coffee machine, you heard him speak over the noise.

“You know I’ve done four tours - three in Iraq and one in Afghanistan”, you popped your head up, only to see him play absentmindedly with something on his chest. “And every time I’m considering a mission for Anvil, I find myself back in there again… A part of a death squad.”

You carefully picked up his cup of coffee and made your way back to him. You didn’t say a word as you leaned lower to hand it over to him, encouraging him to go on.   Billy thanked you in a whisper before clearing his throat.

“Every time I have to send them somewhere, especially overseas, I force myself to stop and think… Is this really worth it? Is a fat check really worth putting the lives of my men and women in danger? And most importantly - you may think it’s stupid…” he avoided your gaze, staring into his coffee cup, a miserable smile on his lips. “I think, will it make a difference? If one of them dies on a mission, I have to at least know they made a difference… it’s selfish and it’s more about the peace of my own mind, but it is what it is, you know?”

When he looked up at you, his eyes were full, full to the brim. There was so much emotion in them, hatred, misery, hope, adoration, all whipped in a wild mix that was Billy Russo’s dark, velvet eyes.

“I carry these at all times,” the fingers of his free hand dropped to his chest, as he got a hold of something hanging around his neck. A necklace? “When in doubt, I just look at them - they help me remember where I’ve been and what I’ve done - and I just know if it’s worth it or not. The answer is usually no, by the way”.

He smiled again, the curve of his lips looking less haunted this time, as he sipped on his coffee.

Dog tags. Those were Russo’s dog tags.

“So they’re your reminder that, even being a badass CEO of a private military company”, you couldn’t help but feel some kind of zero gravity settling in your lower stomach as you saw him chuckle at your words. “…you still have a heart”.

“How poetic”, Billy teased you without missing a beat, putting the empty cup on the floor next to him. “But yeah. Sort of, I guess”.

As you fell asleep that night, you dreamed about explosions, piquant olive oil and holding Billy Russo’s dog tags in your hand.

—

The time flew by after that. In 8-month time (after some tweaking) Billy Russo and you became a team. It sometimes felt like nothing could stop you, as long as you were together.

It should not have come as a surprise that the two of you earned yourselves a catchy nickname - at first, it was spoken solely behind your backs, but soon enough it became some kind of a title, more powerful than that of the CEO or the CSO.

Anvil’s men and women (and especially Frank - the fact that he invented the nickname secretly tickled him pink) - were now calling you Bonnie and Clyde. The ultimate partners in crime, against all odds, doing the impossible.

The two of you also settled in an almost homely kind of routine. Ever since that Mayhew fiasco and the day that followed, Friday had become the non-spoken partners in crime day. What it meant in practice was exchanging Friday jokes on Anvil’s internal communications suite…

(Billy once attacked you with a “would you look at this, just found the actual footage of your interview @ Anvil”. Before you even got a chance to answer, he forwarded you a cheesy meme with two old women speaking to each other, one of them saying “We need someone who can do the job of two men”, and the other responding “oh, so it’s only a part-time job then”. When you shot him back a message asking whether he really considered himself an arthritic old woman, that seemed to have shut him up).

…grabbing a beer in a bar nearby…

(you sometimes invited your colleagues to join you, plus it was an unspoken rule that Frank and Karen were to be there as well)

…you making fun of Billy Russo’s eating habits…

(It was honestly a nuisance to have a lunch with him. The list of things he refused to eat went on and on: no asian food, no food chain restaurants (even high-rated), no soups, no cheesecakes… He sure was settling well in that peaceful life he earned after spending all those tours living off canned food).

…and just overall enjoying each other’s company.

By the time the ninth month of your being Anvil’s CSO had rolled in, you couldn’t imagine not seeing Billy Russo every day. Not noticing him rolling his eyes at a smart-ass comment you or Frank made, or his orbs lighting up every time you told him the deal with that or this decision maker had gone through. You simply could not understand how you managed to live day in and day out, and think you were genuinely happy, before you actually met Billy. Everything before him just faded away somehow, your memories lost their colour and spike in comparison to the life you were living now. You kicked ass at your job, your career thrived, but most importantly, you were feeling like this was exactly where you were meant to be, braving the obstacles by Billy Russo’s side, knowing he would catch you should you fall.

He would, wouldn’t he?

It was your usual Friday night outing, the seven of you - Billy, Frank, Karen, Curtis, James from legal, Ashley from mine clearance and yourself - occupying your usual table at Whimsy, the bar that must have made 90% or their revenus off of Anvil’s folk. It was just around the corner from the headquarters, after all.

The overall mood of the evening was rather nostalgic. It’d been four weeks since you’d lost a team member in a crossfire in Falluja, Iraq. After everything was said and done, his loss still hung heavy in the air, and it felt right to get one more drink in Jasper’s honour. The conversation flowed easily, even though the topics you’d spoken about were anything but.

“I remember how I felt when I lost Andy”, Ashley nursed her beer as she stared into the distance. “I just literally had the weight of the entire world on my shoulders, pinning me to the ground, I just couldn’t move on”, she finished her bottle in one go and motioned for the bartender to bring her another one. “Sometimes, I just ask myself, what would have I done if I’d known he was going to die the next day? Would I have stopped him from going? I think I would,” she thanked the bartender as he put the beer in front of her, her eyes a bit foggy. “Yeah, I definitely would have.”

Frank grasped Ashley’s shoulder and squeezed it hard in a comforting gesture; Karen gave her a tender look.

You didn’t know why your mind had gone there, but all of the sudden a memory of Billy sitting in his office chair, laughing his ass off at some offhand comment you’d made flashed before your eyes; it quickly got replaced by the recollection of his hand brushing against yours during the Zoom meeting you’ve had with general Warren Singer; then you remembered him putting his hand on the small of your back, staring daggers at some army brat wanting to join Anvil, eyeing you like a piece of meat (you learned later that day that the man’d been thrown out before having a chance to introduce himself); until finally, your brain stopped dead at the picture of Billy running his nervous fingers through his hair as he called you from his car, telling you he was only leaving the office.

What would you do if you knew he was going to die tomorrow?

Your heart sunk at the thought as you gulped hard, ducking your head and staring at your hands folded in your lap.

A soft touch enveloping your elbow had you facing the man of the hour, his black eyes shimmering with concern.

“Are you okay?” he half-whispered, half-mouthed, not letting go of your hand.

No.

Nothing is okay, Billy.

I’m so happy that I met you, but you’re scaring the hell out of me.

I never wanted any form of eternity until now, I never saw the point…

So stay. Please, stay forever, and feel something for me, too.

“Yes. I’m fine,” you whispered back, staring into his eyes, hypnotised and helpless. You watched him turn away from you as if in slow motion, the warmth of his hand leaving nothing behind but emptiness in your bones.

“Here is to always telling the things that matter to the people who matter”, Billy spoke firmly, raising his beer. “Here’s to never missing a chance to open up to the people we love”.

Well, if this was his way of crossing the t's and putting the dots to the i’s regarding his feelings for you, he couldn’t have been clearer.  

As far as confessions of love went, this one was non-existent.

—

You tried, time and again, to convince yourself you had to go. You learned the hard way that your unrequited feelings were feeding on a sort of inadvertent parasitic relationship where every moment of your day depended on the level of Billy’s unintentional emotional indifference. Your days were spent questioning his every move - every look and every touch; until, the grown-ass woman that you were, you’d commanded yourself to stop second-guessing everything - stop feeling - and decided your best course of action would be… to work yourself into the ground.

If Billy ever noticed anything, he didn’t show it - your were still you, after all, working hard, laughing when he said something funny, calling him out on his bullshit when needed. He didn’t notice slight change in your eyes, when their icy surface cracked at every other compliment he threw in your direction (and there was no shortage of those). He didn’t realize the smile you gave him was different from those tightlipped signs of appreciation you gave to Anvil’s potential clients, he didn’t think twice about the reason for which you glowed around him, your every move softening, your every gesture emanating warmth.

Because Billy hadn’t really known you until you started to have feelings for him.

You knew this couldn’t go on forever. This entire situation was bound to result in some explosion of nuclear proportions, and then all hell would break loose. You needed to get yourself out of this situations, but you just… couldn’t. You couldn’t imagine your life without Billy Russo. You couldn’t leave him.

Even if being friends with him meant tearing yourself apart and suffering in silence.

  Long story short, you waited with fear in your bones for someone to walk into your life and to get you out. You’ve had no fight left in you to do it yourself.

Your salvation came in the form of a phone call on a Friday evening, when Billy was on a recruiting mission in California.

You were typing back a response to his cheeky message when the call cut in half-sentence.

Billy Russo: Please remind me to take you with me instead of Frank next time? He’s driving me insane trying to set me up with the ladies from the Organising Committee. Any ideas on how I can calm him the fuck down?

You: Sorry, Billy, but recruiting is out of my mission scope. As for the calm down part, try bondage maybe? :)

Billy Russo: I’m going to pretend you did not just suggest I engage in sexual practices with Frankie. Karen will have my balls.

Billy Russo: But perhaps you’re right. Taking you with me is probably not a good idea. Wouldn’t want my new recruits’ brains to turn into mush because of how beautiful you are.

You: The flattery will….

“Hello? Y/N speaking”, you brought your phone close to your ear, your cheeks still a lovely shade of pink. If you were going to feel miserable when Billy came back, acting like nothing happened, you were sure going to make the best of that fuzzy feeling in your chest right now.

“Miss Y/N/L”, a smooth deep voice greeted you, and you could have sworn you’d heard it many times before. “I hope I’m not interrupting?”

Frowning in an attempt to remember, you urged:

“No, not at all. How can I help you?” you stared into the screen of your Mac, wheels turning in your head as you silently catalogued all the men you were in discussions with regarding a deal. “I didn’t catch your name…”

“Oh, how rude of me”, the man chuckled but there was no mockery in his voice, more like self-depreciation. “Tony Stark, from Stark Industries”.

Your mind went blank. Did you hear his last words correctly?

“Uh… Mr. Stark”, you quickly got a hold of yourself - well, as quickly as you could. “I appreciate you reaching out to me directly. What can Anvil do for you?”

You did a pretty bang-up job trying to mask your amazement with polite cheerfulness, and Stark had caught on that.

Tony Stark just called your cellphone number. What in the world?…

“We don’t really do alien invasions”.

Ohyourgod, did you just say it out loud?!

His uproarious laughter took you by surprise, reverberating through your entire body. It took every ounce of your self-control not to giggle in response.

“That’s a good one, I love it”, Stark finally said, restoring his breath. “And the better question would be, Y/N - can I call you Y/N? - what you can do for me”.

Before your brain could take you into some naughty direction, freaking Iron Man cleared his throat.

“Okay, this came out wrong,” he admitted with a sense of self-irony. “I um… I’m looking for the Co-Chief Executive Officer for Stark Industries. Well, Virginia Potts is actually looking for a Co-CEO, I’m just her errand boy. And my missions apparently include recruiting…. Anyway,” it was a bit of a challenge to follow Anthony Stark’s train of thought, but you were also still shocked, so that could explain it. “…I think you are the perfect fit for the job”.

You just stared into the screen front of you, your breathing barely audible.

“Mrs Potts and I would love it if you could swing by the A-Tower, let’s say, on Thursday? You’ll be surprised, but I can also whip up a mean cup of coffee…”

Say something.

Fucking hell.

Say something!…

“Thursday sounds great,” you blurted out without thinking. “Let me just shuffle my schedule around… I could stop by after lunch?”   Your hands were slightly shaking as you clicked on your mouse, opening your schedule window.

“Whatever works for you, Y/N”, you could hear Stark smile. “Not to sound like a creep, but I’ve been following your career for quite a while now, and I think that the work you've done in such a short span of time for Anvil is outstanding, even though you still don’t offer protection from alien invasions”.

That made you chuckle, pushing you halfway out of your stupor.

“I’ll put that on the list of things for us to consider”, you promised.

"Tell Mr. Russo I sent my best,” Stark added, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. “I actually might have some ideas for how we could collaborate. Let's discuss this on Thursday, too, shall we?”

After you said your goodbyes, you fell back in your chair, dropping your iPhone on the table.

You: The flattery will….

...get you nowhere.

You never finished that message, leaving Russo on Read.

—

Starting with that evening, things were moving fast - too fast for you to keep track.

After a three-hour long coffee and the tour of the A-Tower, Virginia Potts, the acting CEO of the Stark Industries, had offered you the job - just like that - and asked you to come back to her executive assistant should you wish to take the job, with your salary expectations and the information about your notice period. You thanked her for her time and promised to get back to her as soon as you made your decision.

Virginia Potts was a brilliant woman; but running a company like Stark Industries while being equipped with a vagina was certainly no walk in the park. Sexism was still very much present within the Boards of the Tech Businesses. You understood perfectly well why she wanted a woman in her corner - it would have been a massive slap in the Board’s face, but it was also about having someone to lean on, who just understood.

In any other circumstances you would have peed your pants in excitement. It was an opportunity to work for Stark Industries - no, scratch that - it was an opportunity to step in as a Stark Industries co-CEO. The idea of it still made you dizzy.

…but as you looked at Virginia’s email sent to your personal address thanking you for stopping by, your eyes were swimming with tears.

You weren’t ready to leave Billy.  You just couldn’t.  You couldn’t leave him.   There was no epic finale to your story. There was no big revelation, no closure, no moment of relief, no acceptance, nothing. Only a fat-ass what if.

And you didn’t know how to let go of a what if with Billy Russo.

And that was exactly why you had to do it.

You heard Billy come in the next Monday earlier than usual. He was positively humming Usher’s Yeah! quietly as he made his way past your office’s doors straight into his own.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You’ve been psyching yourself up during the entire weekend, telling yourself it wasn’t a big deal, we wouldn’t even flinch when you were going to tell him.

You had to tell him.

As you stood up from your chair, straightening you skirt with the palms of your hands, you suddenly heard the footsteps coming back in your direction. You froze in place like a deer in headlights when Billy swung open the door to your office, a box of Pierre Hermé macarons in his hands.

Your goddamn favorite Pierre Hermé macarons.

“You’re here!” Billy’s warm smile illuminated the room. “So much for a surprise, huh?”

He shook the box carefully in the air. You stared at it, dumbfounded, every single thought leaving you.

You couldn’t breathe.

In the hazy morning light seeping through the windows of your office, Billy looked beautiful and dissolute, shirt open at the collar, longer strands of dark hair falling into his eyes.

He was going to be the death of you. It really wasn’t fair.

“Billy, I have to tell you something.”

Was it you who spoke those words? They seemed distant and cold, so uncharacteristically detached.

Blood roared in your ears.

“What’s wrong?”

Billy’s reaction was instant. In three decisive steps he closed the distance that separated you, leaving the macarons on your desk. He stood still just mere inches away, and just like during your very first meeting, you had a fleeting thought cross your mind: you really were tiny next to him, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders.

You bit the inside of your bottom lip, trying to keep your composure. He stared at you unblinking. He wasn’t touching you, but it felt like his eyes were looking straight into your soul, undressing you, blowing that wall you built around yourself into dust. They were taking you down, piece by piece, determined to see what you’d been keeping from him.   Because, of course, he knew. He should have known something was going on. Hence the surprise this morning.

He had no idea what it was though.

“Maybe you should sit,” you said, making a physical effort to tear your eyes away from him, feigning sudden interest in the buttons of his shirt.

  That chest…

  …was going to be just fine. He didn’t feel the same way you did. He would just find someone else to fill your position. With brilliant women stalking him - in cooperative packs - that would not be a problem.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you”.

You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as his words reached your ears.  Fucking hell, you should have done that by phone. Or with other people around. You should have…

“You’re leaving”, you heard Billy repeat as his voice broke a little. He stepped away, burying his face in his hands as he dragged them down his jaw and neck, staring into the ceiling.

“Billy, listen, I…”

You were the one to close the space between the two of you this time, and before you could think too much into it… You threw your hands around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

The sensation struck you like a bolt of lightening when you felt his hands cross behind you back and pull you closer.

He smelled heavenly. Like a forest fire, a hint of smoke with oud and pine. You inhaled deep, deeper still, losing yourself in his comforting touch.

In his arms, just for a second there, you felt home.

“You… The company doesn’t need me anymore”, you nearly choked on words, screaming internally at yourself to keep the waterworks at bay. “It’s thriving, there’s not much else I can give you. My job here is done.”

I need to leave because your indifference is destroying me, and when I think I’m ready to let go, all it takes is one look from you, and I’m back to wanting you, to settling for anything you give me, like a goddamn fool.

“What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?!” Billy exclaimed, his hands grasping your shoulders as he distanced your bodies just enough for him to look into your eyes. “I nee- The company needs you! I was… You know, I was planning to make you the CEO of Anvil in a couple months time,” his smile, as earnest as it was, did not reach his eyes. “Yeah”, noticing your eyes go wide in shock, he let his hands slide down your sides. “You’re so much better at it than I ever was. I was going to join Frank and just manage operations… under you”.

You just stared at him, dumbfounded, not feeling a stray tear escape your eye and rolling down your cheekbone.

“These are the tears of happiness, I hope”, Billy added, and you barely registered his touch as his thumb wiped the salty drop off. “Well, I guess Anvil will have to settle for the little old me. With my best girl going places."

You gave him a strained smile before you carefully wiped your cheeks, just taking a moment to look at him. To try and read him.

Billy Russo was a goddamn ceiling. Plain white, cool and unattainable. In all of your time working for him, you have never seen this Hallmark version of him before. Which one was it?  

Oh wait, you guessed you knew. The happy-for-you friend.

“So where are you going?” Billy asked, his eyes empty. “Who snatched you away from m- Anvil?”

The stutter was so subtle you barely noticed. You were finally tired of reading into shit.

“Stark Industries. I’ll be their co-CEO”.

—

Before you left Anvil you promised yourself you’d get the deal with Stark Industries up and running. There was no one in the world you trusted more in terms of security than Billy.

(The fact that you couldn’t keep your heart safe from him didn’t really count, did it?)

As a matter of fact, Billy and you were going to shake hands with Anthony Stark on the deal on your last night of being Anvil’s CSO. It was happening in The Metropolitan Opera and required both Billy and yourself to dress for the occasion.   He promised to come pick you up at 6pm sharp; you were putting on the Jimmy Choo’s you’d bought a coulee months ago in Saks Fifth Avenue when you heard a low knock on your door.

Straightening up, you threw a quick glance at your reflection in the mirror. You decided to go with a long Marchesa black velvet gown with a rather deep V-line, a pair of long diamond earrings and an elegant half-up half-down hairdo, soft curls in the front framing your face.

“I’m coming”, you yelled out, picking up your leather jacket (because why the hell not) and your purse from the kitchen counter. Sharply opening the entrance door, you realized moments later that you didn’t even take time to prepare yourself for seeing William Russo in a tux.

If you weren’t already half in love with him, the sight before your eyes would have sealed the deal.

God-fucking-damn, like he needed any help being unforgettable.

With a black jacket thrown on a crisp white shirt with a couple of buttons undone and the tie hanging loosely around his neck, Billy was here to make a statement, to leave a mark. His hair was coiffed back in his usual style; honest to God, he looked like he just stepped out of the Man of the Year special GQ edition…

Just when your thoughts were about to switch to the way you must have looked next to him, ridiculous in your simplicity, like you refused to make an effort…

…Your eyes met his.

And the way he looked at you was so intense, his big black eyes with galaxies in them probing into yours, his strong jaw slack. There was beauty and tragedy reflecting in those orbs, but only just for a second - just for a second, he looked at you the way he probably looked at the sky he could never reach. Just for a second, he looked at you the way that made your heart beat twice as fast, like the world could crumble all around him and he still would not have blinked.

Would not have taken his eyes off you.

“Wow, Y/N, you look… You look beautiful”, he finally said. “I just can't spot a part of you that beats the other.”

Something in your chest exploded silently.

“Thank you, Billy,” you smiled at him - a genuine and happy smile, because you felt on top of the world with his adoring eyes on you. “You’re quite a catch yourself”.

Before you could scold yourself for your choice of words, you stepped out of your apartment and locked the door behind you.

“Shall we?” Billy offered his hand to you, without hesitation it seemed.

“We shall”, you replied instantly, slowly sliding your hand into the crook of his elbow.

And, just like always, you were going to enjoy it while it lasted.

—

The crowd in the opera was so posh, the looks all the women had been throwing you first made you question your choice of outfit. It’s after overhearing their conversations that you realized, the reason they stared daggers at you was the man that kept by your side no matter where you went.

Virginia and Anthony welcomed you at the buffet with sun-stained sincere smiles. After a short small talk, Anthony Stark informed you both that he had signed the contract earlier today, thus officially giving Anvil an exclusive security deal with Stark Industries. As of now, Anvil was the only company allowed on the Stark Industries’ premises in the quality of guards and protection officers.

The look Billy and you exchanged spoke volumes; while your eyes were sparkling with excitement though, screaming “we did it!!”, his bottomless black eyes were whispering “thanks to you”.

The four of you then shook hands and went through rounds of gratitude and appreciation; when a pleasant woman’s voice announced the imminent start of Onegin, inviting the guests to go to their seats. Virginia immediately took you hand, leading you straight into the Opera house, saying something about leaving men to finish their drinks. You threw Billy a laughing look over your shoulder, mouthing “come join me” before disappearing out of his sight.

“So on the scale of one to ten, how pissed at me are you, Mr. Russo?”

Billy turned his head sharply to a side, leaning on the high table, and spotted Anthony Stark himself, nursing a glass of whiskey. “For taking your queen away from you? Excuse the chess metaphor, but that woman”, Stark took a sip of his whiskey and savoured it before swallowing it down. “Is a goddamn queen.”

Billy chuckled, straightening up, digging his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“That, she is,” he whispered, his eyes still piercing the spot in the crowd where your smiling face was mere minutes ago.

—

When the opera ended, both Billy and you couldn’t be more relieved - because both of you hated it with passion.

Exchanging meaningful glances in the dark during the singers’ performances now and then, you had to bite your tongue in order to not just ask Billy if you could maybe sneak out. Russo proved to be more stoic than you, carefully covering your hand with his in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

You didn’t look at him once after that, afraid to say or do something that would make him remove his hand.

How much more pathetic could you get?

When the performance was over, Billy led you out of the opera house without saying a word, his hand hugging carefully the small of your back.

His silence was unnerving. You didn’t know what to make of it. Should you have shaken his hand off back in the darkness of the concert hall? Or should you have caressed it with your thumb?

Your mind was spinning in circles by the time he opened the door for you and you slid into the front passenger seat of his Rolls goddamn Royce.

When he got in the car and gripped his steering wheel, you reached out and placed your hand on his whitening knuckles.

“Billy,” you spoke softly, barely audibly. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” he whispered back, turning his head to a side to face you. His black eyes stared into yours, looking hypnotised and helpless. “Everything is fine.”

It didn’t take a degree in Psychology to see that he was lying. You could feel his gaze on you as you turned away from him, taking your hand away at the same time.

Billy started the car. The revving engine filled the silence, loaded with the unsaid words.

—

“…he then walked me to my door, we exchanged our goodbyes. And that was it,” you finished lightly, looking back at Karen.

Her eyes were red as she stared at you, unblinking.

“Unbelievable…” she whispered. “So you never told him?…” her lips barely moved.

You sighed.

“Have you ever felt like you’re potentially in love with someone? Like, you don’t actually love him, you know you don’t, but one day you realise that you could? You realise just how easy it would be for you to fall in love with him? With all the teasing and the banter, the play hitting each other, calling each other names, just…. You start to pick up on little things - like if you listen closely, in every shut up, there’s a barely-there ring of I could love you.”  You shifted on the floor a little, and Karen watched your memories transport you somewhere else again. While physically your were here, in your apartment - with your fluttering eye-lashes, uneven breathing and loaded expression - mentally, you were somewhere else.

“….You probably don’t notice it at first, but your body is drawn to him. Every accidental or absentminded touch…” you continued quietly. “And there’s that twinkle in his eyes when he looks at you and it messes you up, because - what’s going on with you? What the hell does it even mean? Are you imagining shit? You’re trying to make sense.”  

Karen didn’t interrupt, still staring at you as if she were seeing you for the first time

“I mean, he didn’t ask for any of it, you know?” you finally raised your foggy stare at Karen, as if searching for confirmation. “Maybe he just did something dumb one day, smiled at you or said something that seemed important and then all of the sudden you’re full on Looney Tunes, seeing stuff that isn’t there?”

Your words barely audible, you swallowed hard, before continuing.  “…I just kept looking at him with what ifs, and could haves, seeing all that goddamn potential. It’s so fucking twisted. Over-analyzing everything? Waiting for a sign?…” you chuckled bitterly all of the sudden. “…I was so fucking scared of reading too much into it, of crossing that line, because… It would be so easy!… Falling in love with him would have been so easy.”

Oh sweetheart, Karen’s eyes glowed with comfort as she reached out for your hand and squeezed it softly. But you already are in love with him.   

A loaded silence ripped through the air in your living room. The sound of an engine revving somewhere close squeezed its way through the slit of an opened window, and it seemed to break the trance.

Both Karen and you shuddered, and as you took in the realisation Karen’s eyes just bestowed upon you, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“It’s pretty late,” Karen spoke up, reading you like an open book. She knew it was her cue to leave the stage. You needed time to process. “Frank is in a bar nearby with Curtis, let me just give him a call, okay, sweetheart?” she gave your hand one last reassuring squeeze. “You know where to find me when you need me”.

“Yes”, you responded, blinking tiredly. “Thank you so much for coming, Karen. I didn’t mean to unload on you like that…”

“Shut the hell up,” the blonde advised, raising her eyebrows. “But honestly, Y/N, please call me once you… come to terms with things, okay?”

You nodded.

When Karen left, leaving the sweet and pleasant smell of her perfume behind, you closed the door behind her and turned around, leaning on the cold wood and metal with your eyes closed.

It’s been a month. This was supposed to pass by now. Billy was supposed to stop inviting himself into your dreams. You were supposed to heal.

You may have just realized you were in love with the man instead.

Letting out half a moan, half a groan, you peeled yourself from the door slowly, and brushed your hair back, wanting nothing more than to fall face-first into bed.

After you at least cleaned up a bit and put out the Dyptique candles, that is.

As your eyes scanned your living room in an attempt to asses the size of the job at hand, you stopped mid-way, zeroing in on the box Jax gave you earlier in the evening. It rested silently on the kitchen table.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you made your way to the kitchen area. Grabbing the package, you turned it around, looking for any indication of the sender.

The package wasn’t even stamped.

Curiosity getting the best of you, you took a moment to grab a knife from one of the drawers, and carefully swished it between the two cardboard sheets.

Flipping over the envelop, you heard something fall out of it before you could actually see it. A small sheet of paper floated in the air before falling on the surface, partially covering whatever fell out of the package.

Your heart squeezed the second your brain identified the object, attached to a worn silver chain.

With trembling fingers, you slid two metal pieces from under the paper, covering your mouth.

Finding their home in the palm of your hand, Billy’s dog tags shimmered in the dim candlelight.

Squeezing them in between your fingers, you grabbed the paper with your free hand, your eyes staring at one single sentence scribbled on its surface.

“You took my heart with you”.

#billy russo x you #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo angst #billy russo fanfic #billy russo story #the punisher imagine #billy russo imagine #the punisher story #billy russo request

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metareview · 3 years ago

Text

MINDHUNTER SEASON 1, EPISODE 5 - 6

Passenger seat's not the best way to transport a corpse, I'll give you that.

That's not much of an alibi.

We should've brought a six pack.

Can I get you some coffee?

I got some donuts too, half glazed, half cake.

He told me you'll be helping with the case.

How long were you with her?

We saw things the same way.

What'd you fight about?

Was she saving herself til marriage?

Girls like fooling around just as much as boys.

I don't know what all this has to do with what happened to her.

We investigate murders when there's a sexual angle. It may be unpleasant, but it's what we do.

Think he was faking?

Look at him - you think he could have easily moved a body?

Is he in trouble?

You think there's a gene for crying?

We're just saying there's not much here.

If you're hunting for girls, you've got big cities, you've got freeways with hitchhikers. Why choose a place like this?

How would a drifter know where the dump is?

It's hardly sexy but I'm trying to put together a list of questions for the killers that you interview.

Did you want to comfort him?

Maybe I'm just callous.

You know, psychopaths are extremely skilled at imitating human emotions.

How do they understand emotions if they don't have them?

Trust your instincts.

Maybe my instincts are wrong.

You really believe that a young, pretty girl can't be manipulative?

Even if she was, it would be what many women do to have an ounce of power in this world.

Speed actually makes this interesting.

Is this legal?

Uh oh, out comes the narc.

The interesting thing is, while I was lying, I actually started to believe it.

Women crying to men always works.

Why were you drinking so much?

I was tired of thinking.

Don't you get tired of thinking?

Don't tell him anything. Let him stew for a few hours until we get there.

This is where your community system pays off.

Why don't we have a cup of coffee?

I answered all your questions last week.

You've got everyone in a tizzy.

It's probably in your fucking file.

Marriage and fatherhood don't make anger go away.

Oh man, I don't want to rain on his parade...

You understand you're not under arrest?

You know a lot about this case you're not telling us, don't you?

Why would he be jealous?

Anyone else she might have confided in?

Does the case involve our merit?

We still can't rule out a sequence killer.

Shouldn't our funding cover separate rooms?

Well, that was a dead end.

If you're hiding something and they find out about it, it will not be good for you.

What are we missing?

Did you see those bruises?

I would need a warrant.

Do you know where he was?

He told me something bad had happened.

There was blood everywhere.

Did you notice any wounds?

Did you see a weapon?

It's just what I've always done.

Who killed her?

Do you have a husband?

I've been following your work and I have to say, I'm rather impressed.

There's a growing interest in your project around here.

It would be a shame not to take full advantage of that.

What the fuck were you crying about last time we saw you?

That's why he called you?

Why'd you kill her?

There's nothing right about it.

Tell us you're not a monster. Give us one reason to believe.

I am sick and tired of this shithole.

She made me promise to invite you to dinner.

This feels very grown up.

If you don't want to go, just say.

You could be a little less sarcastic.

What makes you think I'm being sarcastic?

I've been dying to meet you.

No one can mix a martini.

Go ahead and make fun of me.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing it well enough.

I just wish I knew what went on inside that head.

You walk him through the crime scene?

I tried to explain, exactly like you said, but he wasn't interested in talking.

I have a deposition this afternoon.

It's what we call a stressor.

How do I prove all this?

I'm just here to provide you with intelligent, accurate analysis.

It isn't my job to make the jury understand.

Is small talk a way you deal with your anxiety?

I actually wanted to talk something over with you.

Intellectually, these people have reached their limits.

I actually think they're quite intuitive.

I warned you this would happen.

I'm having a really hard time juggling my research and everything back here.

I don't have to remind you, your review is in three months.

It's no secret I find it difficult watching you waste your time down there.

Do you think I'm wasting my time?

Focus on the thing that'll make your career.

Do they know you're a lesbian?

Are you really going to hide half your life?

In society, everyone behaves in certain ways in order to avoid embarrassment, either for ourselves or others.

There must be a backstage, a hidden, private are where individuals can truly be themselves.

That's lovely, but you're missing the point.

Must we indulge in your melodrama?

You guys might be too late.

You know that's not true.

That's a motive.

This is an exceptionally difficult and disturbing case.

He's letting the wrong guy off with a lighter sentence.

No hard feelings, okay?

I know the outcome isn't what you wanted.

You know this is bullshit.

I've lost my appetite.

We need to hit the road.

What difference does any of this make if we can't communicate it to the people who matter?

We need more subjects.

It's all about finding patterns.

I think we can learn a lot from this guy.

We have to be able to distinguish the fractal similarities and differences so that we can codify it clearly. Otherwise, we're just wasting our time.

Sometimes you've gotta go with your gut.

This file is as thick as an encyclopaedia.

You think we're gonna get something that isn't in the file?

Do you mind if I take that room for my office?

Are you married?

I'm going to be working long hours.

Are you with the Bureau?

#rp sentence meme #rp prompts #rp sentence starters #rp sentence prompts #rp meme #meme.

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 3 years ago

Text

Book Two: Sapphire (Ignis x Reader) Chapter VI

After speaking to Monica and learning of Cor's plan to dismantle the Norduscaean Blockade, the sun had set. Deciding to head to the rendezvous point the next morning, the royal retinue departed from Prairie Outpost. They were stripped of funds and couldn't even afford the caravan. Instead, they opted to camp out at Lepellieth Haven nearby.

Once the campsite was established, Ignis went to work on dinner. While he was deciding what to cook, (Y/n) grabbed a wood-knitted basket lined with a pale blue fabric. She examined the basket before nodding in approval.

Prompto, who's been scrolling through the pictures on his camera, lifted his head when he heard her hum faintly. "What's with the basket?"

"I'm going to take a short stroll around the area and search for ingredients. The basket makes it easier to carry whatever I find," (Y/n) explained.

The photographer hopped to his feet. "Lemme go with you!" He put his camera down in his chair. "I-I know you're badass and all in a fight, but you really shouldn't be walking around at night. Y'know, with all the daemons..."

She smiled reassuringly at him. "I'll be fine, Prompto. If I'm not back in an hour, that's when you should start worrying. I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Do tread lightly, (Y/n)," Ignis spoke up as she left the safety of the haven.

Gladio watched the guardian leave before glancing back at the advisor. "You're not worried?"

"Unlike you all, (Y/n) knows her limits. I have confidence she needs not a hand to hold whenever she pleases to explore," he replied as he began chopping vegetables.

"Damn, Speccy," Noctis spoke up. "Sounds like you trust her more than us."

"To be fair, they've been together pretty much their entire lives," the shield remarked. He leaned back in his seat. "So tell us about (Y/n), Iggy. The rest of us have no clue what it's like growing up with a guardian."

"What could I possibly convey that she could not?" The tactician retorted.

"And why're you so curious?" Noctis mumbled. "Pretty sure they taught you the basics in school."

"I think spiritual beings was the only class I passed," Prompto chimed in.

"Some of us didn't go to a school where they could learn about guardians," the shield stated.

"Now that I think about it, the books mentioned each guardian is unique and their timings vary. When did (Y/n) come into the picture?"

Ignis kept his attention focused on cooking while answering the question. "(Y/n) manifested when I was merely three months old, but our unification didn't come until my fifth birthday. As you may know, spirits are born unto this world via a soul which they are sworn to protect. Just as we, they are brought in with an innocence and pure form. Guardians, unlike us, are stunned at growth and only develop their human form after their masters have reached certain ages. Their spiritual form can also change once development has begun."

Noctis blinked in realization. "Now that you mention it, (Y/n)'s tail was really short when we first met."

"Our first meeting was a time when (Y/n) had yet to develop her human form."

The prince smiled at the memory. "She was really small, too. All I remember was seeing a white fluff ball curled up on your shoulder. She was fast asleep and didn't even budge when I poked her."

"When did she develop her human form?" Gladio asked.

"The day I turned eight," Ignis answered.

Prompto gasped, eyes wide as saucers. "Now I remember!"

"Why're you shouting?" Noctis groaned.

"The reason why guardians take so long to develop is because their human forms are determined by their masters deepest desire!"

Gladio smirked when understanding what Prompto was getting at. "So (Y/n) looks the way she does because Iggy's deepest desire was a beautiful woman. Nicely done. Better make sure no one else tries to take her from you."

"Isn't that a little extreme? Y'know, for an eight-year-old?" Prompto muttered. "I thought maybe it was because Iggy may have been lonely..."

Prompto was indeed correct. Ignis' deepest desire at a young age was someone who would be his friend and someone who would care for him. He had his uncle, but he wanted someone else important in his life to care for him. (Y/n)'s physical appearance was not the result of his desire but simply how well she took care of herself. And now his newest desire was her. He cares deeply for her not because of her beauty, but her heart. What he adored most about her was her kind, caring nature and how selfless she was. She always put everyone else first, just like he did with Noctis. Although he was duty-bound to the throne, he wanted to put her first. However, his job prevented him from doing just that. His duty was to Noctis, not to (Y/n). He couldn't neglect the prince simply for love. He had a job to do and there wasn't any time for any thing or anyone else. Being an advisor was the one thing that was keeping him from professing his true feelings to the one variable that was constant in his life.

Once completing dinner, Ignis handed everyone their dishes. Noctis immediately groaned when he saw the chunks of vegetables floating in the broth, but he ignored the prince and enjoyed what he prepared. As he was about to scold Noctis for not eating, (Y/n) returned with a basket brimming with ingredients. Curious as to what she brought back, Ignis stood up and returned to the cooking station.

With a smile, the guardian showed him what she found. "I found some sweet peppers, sweet potatoes, chocobeans, and tomatoes."

Noctis had overheard and sighed dramatically. "You didn't find any meat?"

The girl placed a hand on her hip while Ignis examined the many items she brought back. "Meat doesn't grow on trees or bushes, Noct."

Suddenly, all eyes were on Ignis as he shouted, "That's it!" with a sweet potato in his grasp.

(Y/n) turned back around and began putting the ingredients back into the basket. "Some new inspiration, Iggy?"

"Indeed. I've come up with a new recipe."

"It better not have vegetables in it," Noctis grumbled.

"I look forward to trying it," (Y/n) smiled at the tactician, ignoring the prince's complaining. "Maybe I could even help prepare it."

"Yeah, right," Gladio scoffed. "Iggy never lets anyone help him cook."

"On the contrary," the advisor spoke up. "(Y/n) is quite the delight to have as an assistant when I am in need of aid in the kitchen."

"Wha-?" Prompto gaped. "You're treating us like curbside garbage compared to (Y/n)! We could totally help you in the kitchen!"

"Your cooperation in the kitchen would be fruitless for you, Noct, and Gladio are ghastly cooks."

The sapphire-eyed girl bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. She couldn't help but agree after tasting some of the dishes Ignis prepared with help from one of the boys. They always either tasted burnt or half-cooked. Even the cookies Noctis tried to help make weren't cooked all the way through. The center was still doughy because he made them too big and didn't set the oven temperature high enough for the cookies to bake properly. She wondered if the prince had done it improperly only because he wanted to eat the cookie dough raw and not bake it into cookies.

"Oh, c'mon, Iggy! Give us a second chance!" Prompto begged.

(Y/n) placed the basket down beside the grill and listened to Prompto continue to plead with Ignis. She took her portion of dinner and sat down around the fire. She enjoyed the simplistic soup, savoring each and every bite. As she was almost finished with the soup, she looked down at her bowl when she detected movement. Noctis was scooping the vegetables out of his bowl and placing them into hers. "Noct, why...?"

"You know I hate veggies," he said, continuing to remove what he hated from his bowl. "You take 'em."

She inhaled deeply before exhaling. "How old are you again?"

"I don't care if I'm 5 or 50, I'll always hate veggies." When all the vegetables were gone, Noctis ate what remained of the broth.

Deciding not to argue, (Y/n) finished what was left of her serving and Noctis' vegetables. With her bowl clean and her belly full, she offered to do the dishes in Ignis' stead. The advisor tried to protest, but she snatched up all the dishes before he could grab one. "You four should get some rest. I'll deal with the dishes. It won't take long."

Noctis and Prompto crawled into the tent to play a few rounds of King's Knight before going to bed. Gladio followed suit with his book in hand while Ignis lingered in his seat by the fire. He stared into the flames for a few minutes, delving into deep thought. When he looked away from the campfire, his eyes traveled over to (Y/n). She had finished with the dishes and neatly stacked them on the preparation table by the grill. Now she stood at the edge of the haven, eyes casted up to the night sky.

Pushing himself out of the chair, Ignis wandered over to stand beside her. He followed her gaze to see what had her attention. When he couldn't find what captivated her, he wondered if she too was lost in thought like he was a couple minutes ago. "(Y/n)?"

She blinked rapidly a few times before humming in acknowledgement. "Hm?"

"Are you feeling unwell?" He asked.

She smiled sweetly at him. "I'm fine, Iggy. Guess I was lost in thought again."

That's when he remembered what she told him at Galdin Quay. "Has the voice returned?"

She hung her head. "I...was hoping you'd forget about that." Looking back up at the sky, her eyes glistened as she focused on the cluster of stars only spirits could see. "I never told you before, but there's this mass of stars only guardians can see. It's called the Celestial Crescent. I would often gaze at it back in the city, but the lights and barrier prevented me from getting the perfect view. Out here, I can see it perfectly. And now whenever I look up at it, I hear the voice. With each passing day it becomes clearer, but I still can't make out what it wants."

"Is there nothing I can do to ease your concerns?" Ignis offered.

"Just talking to you about it is enough. I am grateful for you listening to me ramble on. It does put me at ease having someone to talk to this far from home."

"It puts my own harrowing thoughts to rest knowing you decided to accompany us. I fear our time together would've been cut short if you had desired to remain in the city."

She clasped her hands together behind her back. "I don't know what I would've done if I stayed behind. You and I are connected no matter how far apart we are. And if I had perished in the city when the empire struck..." She moved one of her hands from behind her back and placed it over the gemstone embedded in her chest. "I'd rather not think of the gruesome outcome that could've happened if I had decided to remain in Insomnia and wait for your return."

"Neither do I," Ignis confessed.

(Y/n) finally looked away from the night sky and focused her eyes on Ignis' tall stature. "It's getting late. We should call it a night. We've quite the day tomorrow and wouldn't want to be sleep-deprived. It'd be awful if one of us were to slip-up in battle and wind up injured." Without skipping a beat, she transformed into her spiritual form and flew into the tent. Ignis followed after her once extinguishing the campfire.

Inside the tent, the three boys were already asleep. Ignis laid down on the opposite side of Prompto. Once lying comfortably on his side and turned away from the others, he felt a familiar furry presence curl up near his stomach. Unconsciously, he reached down and stroked (Y/n)'s back as she slumbered. Even in the darkness of the tent, he could see her snowy fur clearly.

Eventually, Ignis felt sleep tugging at his being and he soon fell into a deep slumber.

<-------------<<<<<

The next morning, the group ate breakfast and packed up the haven. Ready to leave Lepellieth Haven, they set their destination to be the Norduscaean Blockade. They rendezvoused with Monica, who instructed Noctis to join Cor up ahead while she and the others remained behind to be a diversion.

Monica, (Y/n), Gladio, Ignis, and Prompto approach the blockade from the front. The imperial troopers on duty aimed their weapons at the group as more poured out of the blockade with their own guns drawn on the group. The guardian raised her hand and formed an ice wall made from large icicles around her and her companions to protect them from the gunfire. When there was a break in the firing squad, Ignis, Monica, and Gladio emerged from cover and attacked the soldiers. Prompto and (Y/n) remained behind the ice wall and used projectiles to attack any imperial forces that scurried their way.

After some time, soldiers stopped pouring out of the blockade and the grand metal gate slid open to reveal Noctis and Cor on the other side.

Prompto bounded over to his best friend with an excited squeal. "Noct!"

"Marshal. It's good to see you again," Ignis said.

Noctis glanced at his companions. "All right on your end?"

"Right as rain," Gladio replied. "The Niffs couldn't take their eyes off us."

"Thanks to you we were spared their attention," Cor stated.

(Y/n) went to speak up, but held her tongue when she heard the low humming of an engine. Looking around, she spotted an imperial drop ship approaching them. It hovered in the air as the imperial officer aboard addresses Noctis and the others. "Stay right where you are. Well, well, if it isn't Cor the Immortal. So you survived the Citadel. But you won't survive what I have in store for you. It's past time your legend came to an end." The officer, known a Loqi, spotted the guardian among the group and cackled. "And it seems a lowly spirit has ranked itself among this band of misfits. It'll be another one to mark off the list." Loqi enters the cockpit of his MA-X Cuirass magitek armor, then deploys to the ground.

"Say, Marshal, how 'bout you show us how it's done?" Prompto asked nervously.

Cor unsheathes his katana. "No wimping out. Let's move."

Alongside the MA-X Cuirass was a horde of soldiers and magiteks. Noctis focused on the large mech while everyone else dealt with the smaller enemies. After slicing through one of the MTs, the marshal glanced over at the spirit. "I'd like to see your specialty again, (Y/n)."

The girl glanced towards the magitek armor. "Who am I to deny a request from the marshal himself?" She broke away from the soldier she was attacking and ran towards the MA-X Cuirass. Ducking under its arm when it swatted at her, she trailed her fingers across the mech's arm. Ribbons of lightning course across its exterior before entering its metallic body and alter its coding. Loqi noticed his mech's strange behavior and how he was unable to control it any longer. "What is the meaning of this?!"

The MA-X Cuirass fires missile after missile at its own allies. Soldiers and MTs were blown to smithereens, leaving only Loqi and his out-of-control magitek armor. He screamed out when one of the mech's missiles hit the cockpit, causing it to crumble to a single knee. Noctis went to finish it and Loqi, but (Y/n) stopped him by grabbing the hem of his short-sleeved black jacket. She met his gaze just as the MA-X Cuirass self-destructed with Loqi still inside the cockpit.

Noctis looked back to the magitek armor and watched in awe as it exploded. He dispelled his blade at the same time (Y/n) released him. Turning to face her, he complimented her ability. "Nicely done."

"You can thank the empire for installing a self-destruct sequence. My magic only activated it when there wasn't another imperial enemy detected within a certain vicinity," she explained.

"Still, it's pretty damn cool."

She smiled. "Then maybe I should work on more surprises to keep you on your toes in battle."

Noctis blinked in excitement. "Wait, really?"

She nodded. "Yeah. There's been a few more things I've been wanting to try over the years, but never really got the chance. Now that we're all the way out here and we have to fight for our survival, it makes for the perfect opportunity to try the many other tricks I've stored up my sleeves."

Cor sheathed his katana and walked over to Noctis and (Y/n). "Impressive. Seeing you both in action puts my mind at ease. It's clear I don't need to worry any more. I'll return to watching the Niffs. 'Til next time, take care." The marshal leaves with Monica.

A moment later, Noctis and his companions move toward the open gate of the blockade. Ignis, who has retrieved the Regalia, slowly drives alongside the others. Gladio rested his greatsword on his shoulder. "Ain't so bad out here once you get used to it."

"Still a lot we haven't seen, though," Prompto stated matter-of-factly.

"And a lot for us to do," Ignis added.

"Yeah."

"Buck up. We're just getting started," Gladio said.

Noctis smiles, but it fell when he realized (Y/n) wasn't following them. Turning around, he found her staring up at the sky with a stoic expression. "Hey, (Y/n), you coming?"

Ignis stopped the Regalia and glanced at her. Gladio and Prompto turned around to also gaze at the girl. She blinked a couple of times before looking at them. Her heels clacked against the asphalt as she walked towards them. "Yeah. Let's see what other trouble we can get ourselves into."

"Do try to keep the trouble to a minimum," Ignis remarked.

She giggled. "No promises."

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

#ffxv #ffxv x reader #final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv x reader #ignis x reader #ignis scientia #ignis scientia x reader

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years ago

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Past Connections (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Past Connections Rating: PG-13 Length: 2100 Warnings: Mild Angst Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in March 1998. Summary: The second article hits the newstands.

@grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @snivellusim @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx @punkass-potato @coredrive @pascalesque @theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar @sabinemorans @buckstaposition @holkaskrosnou @yespolkadotkitty @fleetwoodmactshirt @seeking-a-great–perhaps

PAST CONNECTIONS SPEAK OUT IN DEA SCANDAL

Following the bombshell report The Post released in the March 2nd issue, the DEA came forward with allegedly incriminating documentation purporting a pattern of unsanctioned expenditures, where Javier Peña had filed expense forms on evenings spent with Colombian hookers.

During our investigative reporting, The Post was able to connect with three of the women who had been paid by Peña, using DEA funds, during his time with the DEA in Colombia.

Elena Ramierz, who was willing to go on record using her own name, was forthcoming with information concerning her time with Peña.

“I would not be where I am today, had I not crossed paths with Javi. He was willing to sponsor my immigration request — without asking for anything in return. Javier Peña is one of the only men I worked with who was a genuinely good man. He cared about all of the girls at the brothels and would look out for us. I cannot, however, say the same about other men who abused the systems the DEA willingly put into place.”

When pressed further, Ramirez went into detail painting a picture of the systemic abuses that were encouraged by the DEA, including but not limited to brutalizing sex workers, non-consensual contact, and intentional situations that led to physical and mental harm. These claims were largely substantiated by the other two women who were willing to speak with The Post.

“He hated what he had to do to get information for the DEA. You could see the weight on his shoulders. Despite the brutal situation he was in, he was always kind and gentle with me and the other girls. Whatever picture the DEA is trying to paint him out to be, it’s to hide their own misdeeds.”

At the request of the DEA, The Post also made contact with Lorraine Jackson (neé Davis) who was the former ex-fiancé of Peña. Jackson, who hails from Laredo, Texas, provided details about the nature of her relationship with Peña nearly thirty years ago. Despite the DEA’s insistence that Jackson’s testimony would be detrimental to Peña and Morley’s case against DEA, her statement was to the contrary.

“Look,” Mrs. Jackson stated, “Javier left me at the altar when we were kids. I was angry for a long time. A long time. Even after I got married and started a family with a truly wonderful man. I was still wounded by what Javier did, but it all worked out for the best. I can’t even imagine what life would’ve been like if he’d shown up. Have you met his daughters? They adore him. He’s a good man, despite what happened between us.”

Mrs. Jackson continued, “When the DEA approached me about our relationship, I let my hurt feelings get the best of me. He made a lot of mistakes when he was younger — but didn’t we all? He left, went to college and came back to work for the Sheriff’s Office. He’d closed himself off and frankly, he was an ass. I don’t pretend to know what happened in Colombia, I wasn’t part of his life then, but I could see he had changed when he came home. The DEA wants to paint him out to be a villain in all of this and that’s just not the case.”

The DEA issued a revelatory statement, rebuffing the claims previously printed in The Post.

There is no doubt that Ms. Morley contributed admirable efforts in the war against Pablo Escobar. As the American people have now seen, her records contain multiple instances where she assisted in the apprehension of multiple associates of Escobar’s.

Despite her efforts, during her tenure with the DEA in Colombia and Ms. Morley failed to uphold the standards expected of a DEA field agent. One year after her transfer, she entered into a relationship with a CIA liaison who was an active member of a joint task force formed by the two agencies. It became clearly, early on, that she was not capable of maintaining a professional work environment.

In 1992, when Ms. Morley revealed that she was pregnant, she was immediately placed on desk duty. During a meeting with her direct chain of command, Ms. Morley intentionally concealed the identity of her child’s father. When questioned about Mr. Peña, she blatantly denied that she had any sexual contact with her partner. The following year, when Ms. Morley and Mr. Peña provided the DEA with the truth, we were forced to terminate her employment for her misconduct.

While The Post may attempt to twist this situation into a gender-based discrimination case, it is abundantly clear that both Ms. Morley and Mr. Peña engaged in unethical practices unbefitting of federal agents.

The Post reached out to CIA Agent, Lance Collier, who Ms. Morley was in a relationship from June 1988 to June 1989, clarified that their relationship had been approved by his director prior to its beginning.

Collier was willing to go on record with a statement of his own, “Annie was one of the hardest working agents I’ve ever worked with. During meetings, I repeatedly witnessed her being ignored and silenced by her superiors. They would ultimately use her knowledge under the guise of their own, intentionally undermining her abilities. On numerous occasions, I was also present for meetings where Javier Peña and Steve Murphy would go to bat for their partner. Annie was well aware of the risk and complications related to being a woman in a male dominated field, and despite that she persisted. I have seen men who acted as bad agents against our government still be venerated, so why are they still punishing her for becoming a mother?”

The Post is dedicated to the continued investigation of this scandal.

————

“You’re brooding.” You told Javier as you shut off the stove and grabbed a trivet to sit the pot of wild rice off the burner.

Javier huffed, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned against the kitchen counter across from you. “I’m not brooding.” He rubbed at the back of his neck before he pushed away from the counter and moved to grab two plates out of the cabinet. “The timing was just less than ideal.”

“I know.” You grabbed an oven mitt and pulled out the pan of chicken patties, sitting it on the stovetop. “I wish Vickers had told us how thorough Valerie was going to be in her statement to the paper.”

“It was fucking mortifying, baby. I don’t know how I’m gonna make it through exams next week. Think it’s too late to make it a paper?” He questioned, grabbing the buns and mayonnaise out of the fridge.

“Unfortunately,” You made a face as you shut off the oven and moved to grab a paper plate to cut the tomato on. “It’ll blow over.”

“Not nearly soon enough,” He shook his head. “You know how much I hate looking back on that shit and now everyone knows my business.”

“It was a risk we were both willing to take,” You reminded him. “Say the word and we pull the plug.”

“I’m not pulling the fucking plug, baby. I’m just saying — did my class really need to know about my exploits with hookers in Colombia? I get that it’s tantalizing, but she pushed it too far.”

“Even Elena didn’t realize how far it would go,” You sat the knife down and wiped off your hands on a dishtowel, turning to approach him. “I’m sure the DEA thought they could put a wedge between us — like I didn't know what you got up to.”

“You talked to Elena today?”

You nodded, “I called to thank her. Her word would’ve been enough I think, but having two ‘Jane Smiths’ reaffirm what she was saying? There’s so much bullshit going on, in the pursuit of stopping drugs that has to end. We both know how they abuse those women.” You reached up and brushed your fingers over his cheek, leaning up on your toes to kiss him.

He snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him. “Think they’ll try to track down Matias next?”

You let out an incredulous laugh at that, “God, I don’t even know what happened to him.” You admitted, “I doubt they’d be able to track him down.” He had been a sweet young man you’d spent a handful of evenings with in the pursuit of intel nearly a decade ago. “It’s not like you don’t know.”

Javier dragged his teeth over his bottom lip and nodded slowly, “It’s just fucking bullshit. Even if it exonerated us.” He sighed heavily, “I should’ve cancelled class. Standing up there trying to keep on topic — knowing they’ve just read an article with three women who I’ve fucked.”

“Technically five.” You pointed, clarifying when he arched a brow. “Elena, Valerie, and Mia, Lorraine, and myself.”

He made a face, feigning disgust before he released you. “I hadn’t realized the DEA would be so determined to punch below the belt.”

“Because bribing Monica to say you’d fucked her was above the belt?” You pointed out as you moved to grab two buns out of the bag, throwing them on the plates and using a spatula to pick up the chicken patties and place them on each bun.

“Alright, alright. You’re making valid points.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “One day the girls are going to see these articles.”

“Then we’ll explain to them that sex workers deserve more praise and credit than they’re currently afforded.” You stated simply, “And that there’s nothing wrong about being sexually active — like we were, before we got together.” You shrugged.

“You wanna have that conversation with them?”

You shrugged, licking your thumb clean after you got mayonnaise on it, “Sure. It doesn’t bother me.”

Javier pinched at the bridge of his nose for a moment before he started plating up his chicken sandwich, “You got cheese?”

“Hang on,” You headed for the fridge, pulling the door open and rummaging around in the deli drawer. “Swiss or cheddar?”

“Do we have any of the pepperjack left?”

You hummed as you pulled open a drawer below, grabbing the bag of pepperjack cheese. “You’re in luck. I hid it the last time Nadia was here.” You tossed it onto the counter beside him, “That girl loves cheese.”

“Monica wasn’t in class today,” Javier stated, throwing two pieces of cheese onto his chicken patty before topping it off with the bun, “Did you hear from her today? I meant to call but got pulled into meetings.”

“I called her this morning at work,” You told him as you stowed the mayo back in the fridge. “She’s still pretty skittish after everything that happened.” You explained, smiling when you returned to your plate and Javier had scooped up a spoonful of wild rice for you. “Thanks, babe.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, “Anytime.” Javier gave your ass a playful swat before he headed for the kitchen table. “She’s got office hours with me tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t make a big deal about it,” You cautioned him as you sat down across from him at the table. “Honestly, she seemed fine. She just wanted to skip today.” You took a bite of your sandwich, before washing it down with a swig of beer. “I can’t wait for all of this to be over with.”

“You and me both, baby.” Javier retorted, covering his mouth with his fist as he spoke with his mouth full. “I want them to fucking pay for their bullshit and let us get on with our lives.”

You nodded your head slowly, “Everyone at the P.D. has been so supportive. They’re far from perfect, but they at least recognize what the DEA’s been doing is morally and ethically wrong.”

Javier rocked his jaw slowly as he stared at you across the table, “You still thinking about quitting?”

“All the time,” You admitted with a shrug. “I just want to get through this first. The DEA’s been such a dark shadow for so many years.”

“Once this is over, I feel like we’ll be able to really live.”

“Right?” You agreed with a grin, “Connie thinks we should go on vacation.”

“As soon as this semester’s over.”

You leaned across the table and took his hand into yours, giving it three short squeezes. “There’s a part of me that is stupidly excited about my name finally being attached to yours in the record books. And Steve’s, of course. It’s bizarre to see our lives laid out in the newspaper, but at the same time — I love it.”

“Me too, baby.” Javier grinned at you, “It means no more hiding.”

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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starfirette · 4 years ago

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Hello! Can u please write Helena Bertinelli with a Fem!reader tomboy that's a muay thai fighter and look like super cool and cold,but in the apartment its a very soft and lovely girlfriend with Helena? (And how the birds will react when them met her) Thank you,I Love you writing and HELENA IS SUCH A BAE!!! THIS GAL NEED MORE LOVE AND SUPPORT!❤

masterlist | word count: who fucking knows | 🏷 @kurreapormaranet @emofairygay | a/n: ;0 There are some things you might want to look up on youtube so you have a general idea of what’s happening. Clinch positions, tactical stand ups, thips

The rink’s seats filled massively, stretching to every wall that bounced the cheering back and forth.

The overall mission seemed simple, but it had Helena dreading this moment since Harleen explained what needed to happen.

The trust fund brat of the devilish Rossini family kidnapped the Rossini’s pride and joy: their little baby girl, Ayala. Ayala Rossini, four years old, is the Brat’s younger half sister and the new written in heir of the Rossini fortune. The Brat, Carmen, had been written out of the will after she kidnapped the new little bird Batman was keeping under his wing. She’d been sloppy and left behind all marks of her family’s (unbeknownst) involvement. She made serval costly mistakes which included Batman’s uncovering of the Rossini family’s plans of Gotham, Star, and Jump city. Half the family became arrested.

Carmen was all but disowned by her father, whom she already resented for marrying another woman so quick after the death of her mother. To get her revenge, she kidnapped Ayala.

So, Mr and Mrs Rossini employed Harley and her rag tag team of anti-hero thugs.

To get Ayala back, the girls would have to go undercover.

Their heroic deed would get them 30k each, so that was good enough. The Rossinis are precise and focuses; they’d been willing to pay as much as they had to in order to ensure the safety of their little crime lord baby.

Now Harley had her connections. She knew a guy who knew a guy who saw a friend with a girl outside of the 31 Flavors ice cream shoppe, and this girl just happened to know that Carmen spends her free time hosting epic fights in the secret tunnels of Smallville.

It’s a long ways away from Gotham, but is a perfect place to host such gatherings. The fights are frightfully violent and brutal. Also very illegal. No one would ever know that beneath the wheat and corn fields of Lil’ Ol’ Smallville county lays an intricate mafia maze.

Carmen Rossini is notorious for entertaining the winners to a “fine dinner with wine”. The rumors go that she runs an entire harem of Thai Fighting women, using them for sexual favors and personal security.

The entire mission is actually depending on that rumor.

The plan was to send in Dinah as a participant in the rink and hope she would win and earn the attention of Carmen.

But then Dinah got bronchitis. It was a nasty case, too, in which she wouldn’t stop coughing and hacking up green stuff into tissues.

The entire thing would have been called off if you hadn’t admitted that you are, in fact, trained in Muay Thai.

You’re positive that Helena would have rather kept this a secret, because she doesn’t like putting you in harms way. It’s a nuisance to have the world’s most protective girlfriend. Heaven forbid you even get a paper cut, else she’d make you wear rubber gloves while you read a book.

The entire group (save Helena) jumped for the chance to replace Dinah with you. You’d do perfect, Harley said, sounding so confident.

You intended to be flawless in the ring.

You’d not competed since high school, when Muay Thai was still just a recreational hobby. You’d had your wins and losses, but that was before you grew up to spend majority of your time fighting mafia crime lords.

Once Dinah officially relinquished her role of the mission, you took to the heavy bags. The repetitions became intense and harsh in the following weeks. You spent every night limping into bed.

Your sweet whispers that begged Helena for a soothing massage fell onto her deaf ears. She is stubborn, and she had been attempting to force you out of this competition since the day you’d agreed to it.

You were not afraid of Carmen, or anyone else she’d make you fight against. For the sake of the little Ayala, you would do this. Besides, you tell yourself, what’s the worst that could happen? With the Birds and their abilities, there isn’t much that could happen.

Nothing would slide through the cracks.

Hopefully.

The day did come faster than you’d imagined, though. The drive to Smallville was tense, especially in the backseat where Helena was frostily ignoring you.

Harleen was road raging, passing every trucker on the two way road that didn’t exceed 65 miles an hour.

“You know the speed limit is 45, right?” Montoya asked after she had taken a long drag of a cigarette. She had her legs propped up on the dash. Between her and Harley sat Cass, who was oblivious to the chaos around her as she sang along to a pop Spanish song. “Yeah, and?” Harley quipped. She cast her bright eyes towards Montoya, a wicked smile playing on her lips.“You gonna arrest me?”

Montoya couldn’t do much but sigh in defeat. If Harley didn’t mind crashing, then she didn’t either.

Between the bickering and the loud singing of the three front passengers, you and Helena were sitting silently in the very back seats. Your head was leaned up against the window which rattled as the tires of Harley’s ‘64 Starfire rolled across the gravely road.

Helena had been refusing to speak to you since the fight you got into last night. It was a real fight. She’s made it clear that she’s against you fighting in Carmen’s ring, and is especially against you joining her harem.

You’d first thought she was afraid of disloyalty; you had promised her that you wouldn’t ever cheat on her, even if it was for a mission. But it became revealed that’s not what Helena was worried about.

She feared for your life. She fears for your life every single day. No matter how small of a task, she can’t help but worry. She lost her mother, father, brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles; everyone. She’d been so helpless. She could only watch as she became the sole Bertinelli.

Helena couldn’t live on if something happened to you.

The fight ended on a confusing note. It didn’t end, per say, and you two did sleep in the same bed. However, neither of you has said a word to each other. You tried this morning, but she’d given you the snippy, cold shoulder.

As much as you hate putting her through so much anxiety, you know that you can’t back down. A girl’s life is at stake; it’s not the money you care about. Not to mention Carmen Rossini is about to make the top 50 worst criminals in Gotham County.

Harley rolled the car to a stop around a patch of gravel and dust. Everyone climbs out, rocks crunching under their shoes as they stretch and look around.

“Where is it?” Cass asks, shoving her hands in the pockets of her loose denim jacket. Her chapped lips are stained blue from the tootsy pop that she’d crunched on in the car. The soggy stick now hung from her lips, as if she had been imitating Montoya’s cigarette.

Harley locked, double checked, then re locked, then triple checked her car. She turned around, using her hands to shield her vision as she scanned the open wheat fields. “Dunno,” she admitted. “I guess I supposed someone woulda been here to meet us.”

You shifted on your feet. You wanted to try and make Helena happy before you’d at least go inside and get in the ring. The only issue is, she’ll only be happy if your forfeit now.

You would not.

Across the way, by a few yards at most, a rustling came through the wheat that came at least up to your hips.

A young man emerged; he approached the Birds with a guarded look that furrowed his thick, blond eyebrows. “You are Carmen’s guests, yes?”

He spoke with a thick accent. His honey blond hair contrasted his coffee brown features. He had a handsome face with a strong jaw, but something about him seemed off. He seemed intimidated despite being taller and broader than most.

“We are,” you answered for the Birds. “I am Y/n. I am the contestant.”

The man beckons you all forward. Helena glared at him, her hand steadily tapping the outside of her thigh. She was prepared to draw her gun and shoot anyone that could get in her way. In your way.

You tasted a bitter foam in your mouth as you attempted to stop Helena without raising too much attention.

“We––I––am here for the Carmen’s...event.”

The honey blond man tallied the Birds on his fingers, visibly distressed. “I do not thinka’ Miss Rossini expected so many of you...”

After a brief, strangled silence, the man shook his head and waved his arm along to escort you. “The bunker is just this way,” he explained. Harley and Cass walked after him.

Helena meets your eyes. Her gaze is firm, and maybe even angry. No way could you defuse that situation while still heading into the rink.

The wheat and grass crunched under your boots as you marched across the pace-by-pace clearing. A trap door in the ground lifted up swiftly, silently, as if they grease the hinges every damn day.

You remembered how this turned out for Suzie Salmon; casting one more look over your shoulder, you assured yourself with the presence of Helena.

Down the hatch, under the ground, you, Harley, Cass, Helena, and Mr Cannoli over here shuffled down the hall to a big dressing room. The entire layout felt more like a stadium then an underground crime rink. The dressing room has lush sofas and fur blankets; in the corner a SodaStream is mounted on an Ikea book table.

“Miss Rossini will join you shortly,” Cannoli-guy told you, nodding his head regally. He bowed out of the room, shutting the heavy oak door after him.

Cass jumped on the sofa. She sprawled out over the furs, kicking her muddy Chuck Taylors up. “Luxury.”

Harley snipped to Cass to get her dirty little feet off the merchandise.

You took a seat in the swivel chair in front of the large mirror. It looked like pure Broadway with the heavy lightbulbs that wreathed the glass.

“Can’t say they don’t know how to entertain a guest,” Harley squealed as she migrated to the SodaStream. “They got homemade cream soda!”

Cass jumped off the sofa to run after Harley.

Instead of facing you, Helena took a heavy seat on the couch. Her legs spread out, looking spectacularly muscular in her tight, black pants.

Unfortunately, you’re too annoyed with her to go lounge in her lap.

As much as you’d like to make amends, you know the only way to do that would be to back down. You’re going into that rink.

The door flew open at the second Harley had poured herself and Cassie a drink.

Carmen Rossini strutted in and you stared in awe. You tried not to let your jaw drop. Tall, voluptuous. Her hair is wavy auburn, her eyes deepest green.

She looked at you immediately. Reaching out for you as if you were the messiah, she chuckled. “You’re even cuter in person! Oh, sweetie, you––you do know how to drive a hard bargain. Your agent Harleen contacted me, where is she?”

Harley waved her hand from the corner. “That would be me. Ain’t Y/n a real figure?”

Scowling, Helena crossed her legs. She glared up at Carmen, and you remembered that Carmen is doing what Helena hates the most; complimenting you.

It’s not so much that Helena doesn’t like that you receive compliments; it’s just that she prefers giving them to you.

“I’m so happy to see you all here tonight,” Carmen said, clapping her hands loudly. “There’s nothing more exciting than tonight’s event. Did you know,” she cooed as she ‘boop’ed your nose, “that I’ve got people betting about two million dollars that you’ll win? I am so, so pleased that you’ve chosen to make your debut in my arena.”

You nod, your neck stiff. “I guess I’m excited?” you mumbled.

Carmen snapped her fingers. She signaled to one of her lackies to come forward. A box Is presented at your feet.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I brought you a little something. A uniform of your own, courtesy of moi. Don’t you love it? I had your photos analyzed by a fashion expert, and they designed your shorts to compliment you perfectly.”

The high waisted, Thai shorts are a deep ivory shade, with black flowers sewn into the design. They’re the most beautiful Thai shorts you’d ever seen! Your own were cute, but simple, considering that you didn’t usually think to be a fashionista while working out.

“They’re amazing,” you admitted. Over the top? Definitely. Did you expect anything else? Honestly, you’re not sure. You weren’t sure what to expect.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” Carmen, as she smiled, reached into the deep pocket of her red silk kimono-blouse. In her hands is a thickly wound prajoud, made of fine threads and paracord. The black and red jumped out at you like an old friend.

“I hope I got the rank right?”

“You did,” you say as you took the prajad from Carmen. “I could have brought my own if you’d asked.”

“It’s really not a big deal, my darling,” Carmen purred. She ran her hand through your hair, taking note of the silky feeling of each strand. “I will be watching. There will be people outside the door waiting to escort you to the arena when you’re done dressing.”

Her fingers are heavy with her bejeweled rings. The heavy tear shaped gems get tangled in your hair.

“You have ten minutes,” Carmen adds.

Helena glowered after her as she flitted out of the room. Her heels clacked down the hallway following the click of the door shutting in place.

Montoya took a long drag of her cigarette before she chortled.“You just gonna let her mark her territory like that?”

Helena didn’t say anything.

“Oi, Katniss,” Harley said loudly.

Helena’s cloudy eyes finally look to her friend. “What?”

“Carmen Rossini basically stole Y/n from you, and you let her!”

As you pulled out of your jeans, you sent Harley a little glare. “No one owned me to begin with,” you snapped.

“Hey, I’m all for women’s rights,” Harley exclaimed. “But it just seemed like—,”

“I know what it seemed like,” you snapped. “That’s the entire goddamn point, isn’t it? Get in her good graces?”

Case choked back her soda. “If that’s your idea of getting in Carmen’s creepy ‘good graces’ you gotta do better than that. You didn’t act sexy or flirt back at all!”

Helena stood to her feet. She brushed down the front of her black zip-up sweater. “I’m waiting outside,” she declares before stomping out with a frown wrung on her mouth.

Harley grimaced as the door slammed shut.

“Kid, come on,” Montoya sighed.

“I’m right,” Cass scowled. “You know that I am. We knew from the start that in order to get the little girl back, sexual favors would probably have to be granted.”

You pulled up your shorts. “Can everyone shut up?” You asked.

“What’s that?” Cass proceeded to ask, given she couldn’t talk about Carmen anymore. She pointed at the arm band that lay over the counter.

“Prajoud,” you tell her. Thank you pulled out of tour shirt. The heavy duty sports bra was already in place, but it gave you major uniboob.

“What does it do?” Cass asked again. Unable to contain her curiosity, she grabbed it off the vanity and fiddled with it.

“It’s like a belt,” you explained. “Instead of wearing a black belt, I wear a black prajad.”

“Who come up with that?” Cass asked.

“Uhm, Thai people?” Harley said as though it should be obvious. She snorted and jerked her thumb towards Cass. “Get a load of this guy.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s alright to ask questions, guys, just try not to be annoying. ‘M a little stressed out already.”

Harley took a final gulp of her soda. “Well, I guess we know who’s not getting action tonight. And that’s Y/n!”

“Why is Helena so upset anyways? Because Carmen was flirting?”

“No,” Harley explained. “See, she’s angry because Y/n’s going out and doing this fight, one, without asking her to begin with, two, for some other little kid, and three, with a evil Italian mafia tigress. She’s projecting her childhood fear that she’ll never be able to protect anyone she loves. She’s also rash, irritable, and possessive, so it’s just a cherry on top that the plan includes Y/n using her charms to sway Carmen.”

“Bravo,” you plainly say. “It’s almost like you’re a doctor or something.”

“Yeah,” Harley grinned. “Or something.”

You pulled the prajad over your forearm. You pulled the band tight, holding the laces in your mouth so you could knot it tight with one hand. You looked in the mirror, unsure of what to think of yourself.

You kicked your boots off next.

In socks, you turned to look at Harley and Cass. “Let’s do this,” you sighed.

Helena had been waiting loyally outside, leaned up against the jamb. Her eyes flitted up and down your figure, before rolling up towards the ceiling. “Let’s do this,” you said, sounding as if you’d already lost.

Marching down the hall in tow of the honey blond Italian, you tried to make eye contact with Helena. She was good at ignoring you. You’re not sure if it’s because she’s angry, stressed, or both.

Riddled with anxiety, you wish that she would look at you, or hold your hand at the very least.

At the entrance of the arena, you could see it was filled massively to the brim of its walls. You hadn’t realized how far underground you really are until you looked at the expansive seating. The rink’s seats filled massively, stretching to every wall that bounced the cheering back and forth.

You stepped to the stairs that wound up to the cage. You could smell the sweat and the matts; above the sound of the crowd cheering, you could hear your blood rushing fast in your ears.

“Find Ayala,” you muttered in Harley’s ears. “I don’t want to be here longer than we have to be.”

Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief, but they were momentairly dulled by a silent question. “I thought...?”

“No,” you said firmly. “We shouldn’t be here any longer than we have to be,” you tell her. “I’ll stay here, I’ll do my thing; you take everyone and look for that girl. If you’re not done by the time the match is over, I’ll distract Carmen.”

Harley couldn’t respond by the time you were dragged up the stairs. Outside the cage’s gate, you were given a little table at which you could rest at. It had a pitcher of ice water, some glasses, a washcloth, and a bottle of brandy. You took a large drink of the brandy first. You peeled off your socks.

It felt like a blur as you stepped into the cage.

Your opponent was your size; she looked your weight, too. You suppose that’s fair, at least. It’s not like in the movies. The real competitions are done by weight and height.

You turned your head to give one last glance to your friends.

Helena stood beyond the cage, her hand resting over the gun holster. Her eyes were fixated on you.

You had to look away.

Tying your hair up in a tight bun, you walked out onto the mat. Your opponent did the same; meeting you half way, you two shook hands.

You didn’t exchange names; that would only make it harder.

“The rules,” a voice boomed around the stadium, “are there are no weapons to be permitted in the arena. Please watch as the fighters return to their corners then begin the match on the sound of the bell. The match will consist of two rounds, each lasting seven minutes.”

You hovered in the corner of the cage. You stretched and jogged in place. You have enough training for this. You do. You know that you can do it; hopefully, you will.

The bell rang. You take a massive sprint out into the middle of the ring where your opponent had already paced out.

You wound up a punch. Your feet lifted off the mat as you leap into the air, and you delivered the blow to the side of her face.

Her teeth crunched under the impact. It was such a hit that you saw it spew out of her mouth, and hit the cage.

The crowd exploded into a frenzy.

Hovering at your face your hands remained in constant motion. Her kicks were well calculated and her movements tactical. She gave away all of her tricks, though, by looking twice at the target she would next go for. If she looked at your side once too many times, you would crouch and use your arms to block your ribcage.

The sweat that built up made the more precise attacks difficult. Your punch began sliding off her face, keeping you staggering forward, and in her wide open range.

You were struck once, twice, then thrice on your left cheek. It sent blood and saliva dribbling down your chin.

Your prajad began to slip as you struggled to regain your balance.

The girl’s long leg extended forward. Her foot jabbed a strong thip into the center of your stomach, practically digging against your bladder.

The bell rang, then, marking the end of the first round.

You fell into your corner with a wheezing gasp. You crawled for the little table. You drank directly from the pitcher.

You looked back to the crowd, half expecting to see a flash of unfamiliar faces.

Helena still remained at the ringside. Her hands are clenched through the cage, and her eyes are desperate to meet yours. You were confused. Why hadn’t she left with Harley? Did Harley not need her? Or did she want to stay and watch?

You felt stronger with her just a few yards away.

You staggered to your legs, where your knees wobbled like jello on a plate.

The two minutes of rest time had ended, and the bell rang once more. You slid back rather than go for her first.

She sauntered to you like a bear, her shoulders hunched and her fists close to her face. She swung hooks and uppercuts that you could just barely dodge. You were close to slipping backwards a few times.

“Y/n, watch out!” Helena shouted suddenly.

You couldn’t see the girl racing towards you like a battering ram through your blurry vision. Her fist slammed over your temple. You swore you could feel your brain tumbling around your skull as you fell to the floor.

You clutched your ear with your bare hands. Pain gushed out of you like water. You thought you could see it, visibly, as it poured down bright green and crystalline.

It wasn’t there; it was the spots dancing in front of you. Disorientation is a real bitch.

One tactical standup later, you’re back up on your feet. You pushed yourself forward, forcing the remaining energy you had out of your hands. You grabbed the girl by her long pony tail and dragged her into a tight clinch. She attempted to swim out of it; the friction of her wrists against your neck burned.

You tugged her down, driving a sharp knee into her stomach. She stayed in your clinch for a long time, gasping for air as she couldn’t evade the knees. You finally released her. She staggers back. She falls onto her ass, visibly shaken up and at a loss for breath.

The crowd began to scream at you. Some did a countdown, others urged the other girl to get back up.

It was too late for her.

The bell rang, marking the end of the seven minutes, as well as the second round. She had lost, and you had won.

You limped towards her. Despite your own pain, you lifted the girl onto her feet.

“Good game?” she rasped.

“Hell yeah,” you wheezed.

It felt like the ultimate orgasm to go back and gulp down the water. The cold, damp washcloth made a good compress for your busted lip. You judged by the twitching of your left eyelid that you had a pretty sizable welt there.

Helena ran to meet you as you limped down the stairs out of the cage. She threw her arms around you tightly. “You’re alright,” she gasped.

You tried to hug her back. Your arm hung loosely over her lower back as you tried to laugh. “Did you doubt that I would be?” you asked her. “Where’s Harley and Cass? Montoya?”

“They went to find the girl,” Helena said in your ear. “I couldn’t leave you...I had to stay and watch. I had to make sure.”

She pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck. “Let’s go,” you said firmly, “before Carmen comes for us.”

Helena helped you leave the arena. By the time you vanished, the stadium was already announcing it’s second match, featuring a woman named Selina. The people went into a hectic frenzy of excitement when Selina’s name was announced over the speakers. You knew as you were walking out she would never be able to escape this place.

Honey-blond-haired Italian guy jogged to keep up with you. “Miss Carmen asks that you wait in the dressing room,” he called out. “Yeah, yeah,” Helena called out. “We’ll be there.”

He followed you down the hallway, keeping several paces back to maintain a steady watching distance. He paused as he watched you and Helena head straight into the dressing room.

Sitting on the sofa inside is Harley, Cass, and a little girl sleeping in Harley’s arms. You were shocked. For a four year old girl, Ayala was incredibly small and fragile looking. Her olive skin and auburn hair is just like her elder sister’s. The hollows beneath her eyes are dark and colored by her greenish veins.

“Let’s scadadle,” Harley hissed as she rose to her feet, though struggling to keep Ayala in her arms.

You all rushed out of the hallway, quickly as to make it before Carmen could come back from the arena.

“Where’s the exit?” Cass asked.

“It’s this way,” Helena says. She pointed straight down the hallway. “The car’s waiting for us above the trap door.”

“Yeah, unless someone stole it,” Cass mocked. “What if we get locked in? Like in Hotel California?”

You could hardly begin to understand what Cass was saying. Her words were jumbles of sounds and her figure a blur of her dark hair and red jacket.

“We’re not getting locked in,” Harley exclaimed. “Let’s just get outta here!”

Helena climbed up the ladder first. She punched the door up, then open. “Give me the kid,” she said quietly.

Harley struggled to lift Ayala up.

Helena scooped her easily into her strong arms. Ayala stirred awake and whined as she became more and more aware. “I want to go home,” she mumbled, her voice quiet and empty.

“We’re taking you home, pumpkin,” Helena assured the little girl. “I’ve got you.”

As Cass was going up the ladder, a loud clatter arose down the tunnel. “Uh oh, spaghetti-os,” Harley whistled. She pushed you up the ladder next. “I’ll meet you guys up there,” she promised, sounding entirely confident. “Montoya,” she whistled between her teeth. “Feel like doing some target practice?”

It was the first time all day that Montoya smiled.

As you climbed up, you heard Harley’s shrill laugh between the shots of two, little handguns.

“Into the car,” you wheezed to Cassie. She looped her arms around your waist to help you limp into your seat. “Buckled in?” you heard Helena ask the little girl. She looked so shy despite all that’s going on. The curls of her hair were brushed behind her ear as Helena held her tightly. “You’re going back to your parents.”

Harley came running out seconds later. “Let’s get this show on the road,” she exclaimed.

“You have the keys!” Cassie shouted back.

Harley jumped into the drivers seat. She honked the horn loudly. “Renee, let’s move it!”

Montoya was limping a few feet away, struggling to keep up Harley’s pace. She crawled inside and as soon as she did, Harley pressed the gas, and sped away.

“Smoking is so bad for you, you know that, right?” Harley chastised. “Maybe if you just used the nicotine patches I bought you for Christmas, then you wouldn’t have so much trouble keeping up with us.”

“Take the patches,” Montoya huffed, “and shove them up your ass.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. You leaned back into the headrest of the rear seats. Helena held Ayala beside you, stroking her hair gently as she held her cellphone to Ayala’s ear. Her parents were on the other end, and you could hear the cries of relief.

You met Helena’s gaze, and you managed a smile on your busted mouth.

“I love you,” you mouth to her.

“I love you, too,” she replied.

#helena bertinelli x reader #helena bertinelli imagine #my helena babes #crossbow killer #crossbow killer x reader #huntress x reader #huntress imagine #dceu imagine #dceu x reader #birds of prey x reader #birds of prey imagine #birds of prey #mary elizabeth winstead #starfirette writes

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fwoopersongs · 4 years ago

Text

何必诗债换酒钱 - Notes

youtube

Clean version here and thoughts under the cut.

I saw the song translation notes made by @shelterfromrain a while back and thought, wow! what a fantastic idea it is to share the results of the rabbit holing (that you inevitably end up engaging in when doing this) and leave a record for your future self while at it too! Currently some of the song and poetry translations on fwoopersongs do have little notes, but those were casually written on the fly and after so long, the thought process behind certain choices often get forgotten, which is such a waste... Long story short - I’m doing it this way from now on!

This song was requested by @peerlesssqq on twitter - which may or may not have bumped it up by like a year on my list (yes, I’ve been sitting on it since 2018 and you’ll see why) - and I had WAY more fun than expected, so 谢啦 ~ It was a delight to receive your DM request. I was happy for days!

Some background: 《何必诗债换酒钱》 is the theme song of 【文定乾坤】- a collection of musical works that feature notable contributors to Chinese literature in ancient times, poets and the like. Oh, and I did notice that the MV on bilibili looks like it could be a promo for a webtoon or game. Who knows? I’ll be checking out the rest of the songs, that’s for sure!

The following part of this post will be my thoughts for first the title, then each section - the intro, verse 1 & 2 and the chorus, ending off with some final comments.

Disclaimer first though (otherwise later you read already then feel like beating me up): Everything in this post is only my interpretation of the song. I have quite limited familiarity with mainland literature and culture, so of course don’t expect much xD Here you’ll only find a story-loving banana who jiak-ed kantang too much in her youth and now regrets it a whole lot. 说好了哈 I’m pants at analysis, worse at Chinese, and am not at all good with words ok?

Title

So《何必诗债换酒钱》, let’s start off with the word here that’s unfamiliar to most of us:

诗债 | shī zhài or a debt of poems/poetry debt is a legit thing! - All you authors and artists out there might be familiar with it - It’s what you call the resulting debt when a poet promises to write something for another person but hasn’t done it yet. Procrastination has apparently always been the curse of content creators.

In fact, in the Bai Juyi’s poem that came up on the 诗债 baidu page《晚春欲携酒寻沉四著作先以六韵寄之》- possibly addressed to a friend he owes - he was complaining of illness, old age and writer’s block. But then oh, he goes on and then I passed by a party where they had drinks, and was quite up to my gills & totally out of it for some time, and THAT’S why I’ve done you dirty and owe you ever so many poems. I don’t really understand the last two lines but apparently he then offers to bring a drink for this person he’s talking to, mentions a wish to meet a winter goddess (????? pretty girl? or the snow? idk which), and starts reminiscing the times that were like a precious string of pearls they had singing at Yang Pass. Most likely farewells, but without context I just don’t get it. Anyway bribery and misdirection huh? I see what you did there bro, and I’m sure the person you attempted to distract saw it coming too...

何必 | hé bì, is a rhetorical question of Must you really? In the case of this word, 何 functions as roughly ‘is it that’ and 必 as ‘it must be so’.

换酒钱 | huàn jiǔ qián is of course, exchange for money to purchase wine.

‘Must you really promise poems in exchange for money to buy wine?’ then is the literal translation of 何必诗债换酒钱.

So here is the question: Is alcohol worth a poetry debt? Onwards to the answer!

Intro

生就诗骨算来三百篇 Born and already a poet to the bones, (with) three hundred works counting up to now.

浪掷秦淮长安风流李杜王白 Spending lavishly in Qinhuai and Chang’an, free/unrestrained as Li and Du, Wang and Bai;

余下十分便随意肩上担 whatever left is divided in ten parts, casually thrown over a shoulder

权作金玉铜板相谢好人间 and taken for jade, gold and coin, a big thank you to this good world!

I interpreted the 生 in the first line as 天生 i.e. innate, natural born talent, so this first line describes someone born with a gift for poetry with ‘three hundred’ works to their name. Although... that three hundred should not be taken too literally, it’s more likely to be an allusion to collected works like the 16th century anthology of poems, Three Hundred Tang Poems. After all, Li Bai, Du Fu, Wang Wei and Bai Juyi are the most famous Tang Dynasty poets… and they were all name-dropped in the next line!

浪掷 | làng zhì was a new phrase for me, and means something like spending freely and lavishly or willfully wasted. Of course Chang’an was the capital during the Tang Dynasty and it was the world's most populous city at the time. One can only imagine how prosperous it must have been… and what fun things were there to spend your money on! The banks of Qinhuai river and that general area was once a gathering place for noble/wealthy families, scholars looking for a good time (and some say, the red light district xD). Though by Sui/Tang, that area was no longer doing as well due to political shifts. So the mental image I got from 浪掷秦淮长安 is of someone gallivanting through places of interest, from the bustling and prosperous to the dilapidated.

风流 | fēng liú is as always, hard to translate with no full equivalent in english. The feel it gives me ranges from, ‘cool, dashing bloke on a galloping horse with their cloak/robes/hair flowing elegantly in the wind’ to ‘pleasure seeking dandy who totally knows how to enjoy life, all the courtesans know him by courtesy name!’.

The third line started with 余下十分, which will not make any sense - why leftover? Divide what by ten? - until its put in context with the following:

Three hundred poems 算来三百篇 + 权作金玉铜板 pretend they are gold/jade/money (权作 | quán zuò just means to take one thing for another temporarily.)

The load thrown over the shoulder 肩上担

Spendthrift behaviour on tour 浪掷秦淮长安

The TITLE: bro so u wanna promise poetry in exchange for money to drink? why.

Let’s take those precious poems that can be exchanged for gold - a whole bagful of scrolls, and now I’m so rich I can scatter my money down the streets of entertainment districts and the capital! The very image of a 风流 poet, reckless and free spirited.

// Folks, please learn from this silly girl and do not read songs (or poems) line by line. They need to be appreciated at a distance, not one inch from your eyeballs.

Verse 1

两分与月劳烦身前打点 Two parts to the moon, (may I) trouble you to take care of me while I’m alive.

哪处巍峨峰峦当借我悬来观 Wherever there are majestic peaks and ranges, do lend me (your light) to hang and see by.

三分典高楼好与长风赴宴 Three parts pawned for the tall building, good for attending the banquet alongside the wind,

遍寻可爱星子唾手一把玩 searching for charming little stars, easily caught to play with.

Now we get to see how the poet is spending his ‘wealth’. This verse is a lot more literal as compared to the introduction, so there’s not much to say.

打点 used here is so interesting! Because it’s what you call bribing someone in a superior position to smoothen your path ahead (so to speak). Thanks to a childhood of tvb drama, I vaguely associate the type of people who would 打点 with rich merchant or minor noble fathers who want to give their sons an easier time at court. Either that or lower ranked officials with less moral scruples. Anyway, what’s being said in the song is something like: here is 20% dear moon, I’ll have to trouble you to bless me for the rest of this lifetime, and also please lend me your light to see by when I have need of it at scenic spots *for art*. The moon is a muse for many poets in all its forms after all… 明月, 圆月, 孤月, 残月, 冷月, 江月, 秋月 and so on.

Actually that whole sentence 劳烦身前打点 is so playful and fun that I put it in quotation marks to emphasize it. We’ve only just begun. Is the speaker already drunk?

And with the third line, 30% has been spent. Just noting here that 典 | diǎn can be read as pawn or mortgage. Another interesting thing to note would be that this imagery of ascending a tall building 高楼 and reaching out for stars 星子 in the last two lines of Verse 1 brings to mind one particular poem, famously attributed to Li Bai. Following translation by yours truly.

《夜宿山寺》- Overnight at the Mountain Temple 危楼高百尺 | dangerously towering a hundred feet high 手可摘星辰 | the stars are within reach 不敢高声语 | one dares not raise their voice 恐惊天上人 | for fear of disturbing the deities

Though the two probably have nothing to do with each other, doesn’t the reverence in the tone of this one bring out the playful irreverence of the other? So. Much. Fun. I adore the whole feel of 遍寻可爱星子唾手一把玩 SO MUCH.

Verse 2

两分与桥歇脚南北行船 Two parts to the bridge where travellers on foot and by boat from the north and south can rest,

欣然八方风物闲话半日茶碗 delighted by the scenery all around, idly chatting half the day away over bowls of tea.

三分典流水润色枯瘦石山 Three parts for the running water, moistening the gaunt stone mountains

又将天地一展伸手试浓淡 and again spreading heaven and earth wide, reaching out to test the viscosity (of the water).

It took a few listens, but in the end I really enjoyed the aesthetics here. And again, this verse is quite straight to the point albeit with two things I cannot understand.

The first point of confusion for me is why the lyricist chose to use 桥 | qiáo, a bridge as the place for people to rest on their journeys. I assumed here that this in reference to a pier or dock, assumed also that he is donating funds for this structure to be built or repaired. However, if that were the case 坞 | wù would have been enough - 船坞 was supposedly invented only in the Song Dynasty though, so maybe that’s why another word was chosen. But it’s not like there is any incidence of 桥 being used to mean ‘dock’ either!

The second thing that confuses me is the use of 典 for 流水. In verse one, that 典 was referring to the poetry works sold to reserve the venue for a banquet. That usage was apt. Here I suspect it might be for parallel structure, because there is no alternative reading for 典 that might allow one to use their 30% 三分 to do anything to flowing water 流水. That’s the literal reading, of course.

If we’re taking this a little less literally, it can be interpreted as borrowing the scenery (figuratively, since the place would not belong to anyone in the way you might own a property) to admire. It also expands on the second line’s mention of the surrounding view 欣然八方风物; there is running water which completes 润色 and brings the appearance of the gaunt and rocky mountains 枯瘦石山 closer to perfection.

润色 | rùn sè means to polish, to bring to greater heights. When you say something has been 润色 it is made more brilliant and closer to perfection by that addition. It can also mean moisten.

We always hear ‘rivers and mountains like a painting’ 江山如画 - originating from Su Dongpo’s《念奴娇·赤壁怀古》- used when the scenery is wonderful, because how often is real life as ideal as what we can imagine and depict? And that is exactly what is described here. The feeling out if the ‘water’ is concentrated or diluted 试浓淡 is used in answer to 一展 unfurling. 浓淡 of ink to 一展 of painting scroll. The land and sky seem like an ink wash painting, so beautiful that the viewer cannot help but reach out to run their hand through the water.

Chorus

Chorus Part 1

若趁游兴直到酣 If we take advantage of our wanderlust and go roaming till it is sated,

千字文章不值钱 classics and essays shan’t be worth a coin.

诗换花词换雪 A poem for a flower! A song for snow!

再作檄文斗天官 Another denunciation for those heavenly officials!

Starting off with three new terms for me: 游兴 | yóu xìng means enthusiasm for travel. 酣 | hān can mean having a great time drinking, or being very satisfied and satiated. 檄文 | xí wén is a type of official document written for important announcements, declaration of war, or denunciation and condemnation of certain people or actions.

While I still feel this need to go out to see the world, I shall keep on the road until I am satisfied. Who cares about writing, who cares for study, it’s all worthless to me. I do what I want. And what I want is to write a little poem in exchange for a flower, some lyrics for a flake of snow. I’ll even write a denunciation against those officials in heaven (immortals). Fight me!!!!

I point again at Verse 1 with climbing the tower to play with stars. It’s no longer just playing nearby, now he wants a go at the gods.

Among the four parts of the chorus, this one is the simplest for sure. The lines mean exactly what is said. It also feels the most chaotic and mischievous. Is the speaker drunk? Is he high on something? One thing’s for sure. He’s out of money.

Chorus Part 2

何愁不得一样我 Why feel troubled that (I) cannot have another just like me?

知交尽向话中添 for one who understands you and is understood, look entirely towards stories to fill that place

唐解元嵇中散 people like Tang Bohu (first in provincial examinations) and proud, upright and stubborn Ji Kang

且驰大梦任疯癫 Just chase that great dream, allow yourself to go mad.

I feel like the first two lines are quite straightforward, though they might not appear so on first reading: How could there be a need to feel sad or troubled that I have no like-minded equal. To find a true friend who understands you without need for words, and whom you understand in return, all you need to do is turn to those tales and stories 话中 for people to fill 添 that place.

唐解元 - People like Tang Yin, courtesy name: Bohu 唐寅, 字伯虎 (1470–1524 AD), noted painter, calligrapher and poet of the Ming Dynasty. Tang Yin led a life full of ups and downs that really cannot be covered in a paragraph’s worth of song translation notes. You can check out his wiki page if you’re curious though! There’s a little more on him where I cover the last line of this section. He is addressed as 解元 | jiè yuán here which is the term for the top scorer of the provincial examinations (second stage in the Imperial examination ladder). It is also an honorific for scholars. Tang Bohu is both.

嵇中散 - People like Ji Kang, courtesy name: Shuye 嵇康, 字叔夜, (223–262 AD), one of the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove - a group of friends who wisely kept themselves aloof from the dangerous politics of the Court, and devoted themselves to art, refinement and debate, of the Three Kingdoms period. He was a Daoist philosopher, musician, writer and poet.

An accomplished musician, the qin composition 廣凌散 | guǎnglíng sàn is attributed to Ji Kang, though some versions of the story claim he learned it from a ghost while stopping at a pavillion on his way home. 嵇中散 was one of the names he was known by because of his appointment to the position of Attendant Counsellor, 中散大夫 | zhōng sàn dàfū, a civil official unspecified duties in the court of Cao Wei.

When Ji Kang was sentenced to death for his attempt to testify for a wrongly accused friend, three thousand scholars petitioned for his pardon to no avail. It’s said that at the execution ground, while they waited for the appointed hour, he had his favourite qin brought out and played a brilliant interpretation of Guanglin San that is now forever lost.

Do go read about them both if you have the time!

I would like to point out for the last line that 任 is to allow, to indulge, and it’s just such a heady sensation to say 任疯癫 - indulge in the madness! throw yourself in and don’t look back!

There is an easter egg here too. A nod to a poem by Tang Yin which can be read as his stance on his lifestyle choice after the alleged accusations of bribery in the final step of the Imperial examinations left him disgraced, and unable to pursue a civil career. Thematically the line does not call back to the poem at all, similarities end with the choice of words: chasing the dream 驰大梦 and indulging madness 任疯癫. I leave an excerpt below. Translation again by me.

《桃花庵歌》- Song of a Plum Blossom Cottage // 若将花酒比车马 | if tawdriness and wine were compared against fine carriage and steed 他得驱驰我得闲 | he would have to drive and work hard for speed whilst I have my idle rest 别人笑我太疯癫 | others mock me for my madness 我笑他人看不穿 | i am amused for they do not perceive 不见五陵豪杰墓 | can’t you see that at the Emperors’ mausoleums and heroes’ graves 无花无酒锄做田 | there are no flowers, no wine, only land ploughed for farming

The second part of the chorus isn’t related to the first, but it has the same theme of showcasing the untamable (unhinged xD) spirit of the speaker. This time, the people he admires ‘intellectual equals’ and kindred spirits are featured, the 任性 feeling here has been pushed to greater heights.

Chorus Part 3

敢夸洒落何须酒 If one dares to boast of carefreeness, why, they hardly need wine.

不煮黄粱也称仙 Even without brewing millet they would still be called Immortal.

镜湖桌白梅盏 The tables in the mirror-like lake, white plum blossoms in the cups,

等来春风恰开宴 await the spring breeze which arrives just in time for the feast to start!

Li Bai is regarded as both the god of poetry 诗仙 and god of drunkards wine 酒仙 because he wrote some of his greatest poems while drinking. The first two lines seem to be gently poking fun at that. Like hey, if you dare to claim to be all groovy, surely you have no need for alcohol? Just like how an immortal would still be an immortal without wine, your writing talent should not need any stimulants. This would be the time to mention that 黄粱 | huáng liáng is also known as millet, a type of grain that can be used to brew wine.

洒落 | sǎ luò has a few meanings, like shower down or blame, but the relevant one here would be 洒脱 generous, uninhibited and open. For me it feels similar to 风流 in that there is that ‘free, and exhilaratingly unrestrained’ element. 洒落 is in the most positive sense, being always open to having a good time, but without that dissolute or vaguely whirlwind-romance like connotation of 风流.

It feels like the intensity is letting up a little here - this is a light-hearted and frivolous song all the way through, but the words 洒落, 称仙 and imagery of a clear lake, white plum blossoms and the crisp spring breeze are grounding and sweet. Spirited in a different way from before.

Chorus Part 4

四角天地也醺然 The four corners and heaven and earth are also tipsy,

醉极自有桃李搀 when I’ve overindulged, my students will be there to help.

快意只笔下讨 Gratification can only be claimed from beneath the brush;

何必诗债换酒钱 is falling into poetry debt worth that money for drink?

New words: 醺然 | xūn rán just means drunk. A new word for me though! 桃李 | táo lǐ is literally peach 桃 and plum 李 (李花, also known as 玉梅) flowers, and is a metaphor for students. The term originates from a story in 《韩诗外传》which was set in the Wei Kingdom of the Spring and Autumn period (771 to 476 BCE). There was once a highly ranked official who was sacked from his post and left for the north. He met another gentleman and remarked that the people he helped before did not lift a finger when he was in need. This person replied that, if someone were to plant peach and plum trees in spring, he could relax under their shade in the Summer and taste their fruit in the Autumn. But if that person were to plant weeds, nothing can be done with their leaves in Spring and there would only be burrs to hurt himself on in Autumn. Clearly the people the unfortunate gentlemen had helped before were not worth his effort. Students ought to be carefully selected and carefully cultivated as one would a tree.

Reading the four corners and heaven and earth 四角天地 are also tipsy 也醺然, I imagine the world sort of spinning around the speaker because he is drunk. But that’s okay, because his students (or the trees xD) will be there to support him.

快意 | kuài yì is the feeling of sudden relaxation, and then lightheartedness and joy. In this line, I felt like the intention would be closer to 畅快，爽快 and so chose gratification, because really writing is like scratching an itch isn’t it? Pleasure from satisfaction of a desire. Phrasing it as 笔下讨 is so very fitting though, because 讨 can be interpreted - somewhat contradicting - as either to demand or to beg. What could be more gratifying than having squeezed out the perfect sentence or word under your figurative pen?

So so so after all that, 何必诗债换酒钱? What do you think, is alcohol worth the poetry debt? Is Mr. Poet actually drunk and about to dig himself a deeper hole of owed poems to get even MORE drunk, or has he just been thinking about it all along? :)

Thoughts

This has been such a fun adventure following our madcap big spender from the shining Chang’an to the inviting Qinhuai, shadow of great poets in tow and all. We’ve done everything from talking to the moon and seeing the sights by her light, to boating down a river, dragging fingers through the water. It was sort of like being on a backpacking tour, except with with someone contemplating opening (or perhaps regretting opening this can of worms?) poetry commissions instead of singing in the streets?

Dear reader, if you’ve reached this point of my post, thank you. I hope you enjoy the song as much as I do now!

#何必诗债换酒钱 #translation notes #i made a new years resolution and this is step one #i had so many more things to say lol but it's like 1 am and i need to go to bed #this took way longer than i thought it might

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hutchhitched · 5 years ago

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Maybe This Summer, Prologue

After many months and several delays, I’m excited to finally share Maybe This Summer with you. Last year, I offered an auction for a 50,000+ word story for @fandomtrumpshate, and @ldyglfr62 won the bid. She gave me free reign to create a mild age gap!Everlark story with Gale as Katniss’ best friend. With a little inspiration from Dirty Dancing and the second season of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, Maybe This Summer is the result. The story will post on Tuesday mornings at 11:00 am CDT.

Big thanks for @ldyglfr62 for bidding and trusting me to create this story (and being patient and gracious as I worked through some personal issues) and @xerxia31 for mad beta skills and turning the nine pictures I sent into this gorgeous graphic.

Summary: Katniss Everdeen needed a vacation. On a whim, she reserved three months at Panem Resorts in North Carolina. She expected to spend her time recovering from the recent death of her sister, exploring the nearby nature reserve, and reminiscing about happier times. What she didn’t foresee was bumping into Peeta Mellark, one of Panem’s most valued employees, during his early morning run. Neither did she think she’d grow to admire him when she’d hated him from first sight, but his killer smile and gorgeous blue eyes had a way of breaking down the walls she’d built around her heart. Maybe this summer she’ll finally get what she’s always deserved. AO3

_______________

Winding Road

A canopy of trees shaded the ribbon of asphalt as Katniss Everdeen sped along the winding country road. She hadn’t been there in ages, two decades passing since the last time her mother requested time off from work and bundled her daughters into the car and took them on vacation. She’d chosen the same place for nostalgic reasons and was determined to find something to smile about during her time at Panem this summer. She needed that.

Things hadn’t gone too well for her over the past few years. Her mother and she had almost no relationship anymore—not since her younger sister Prim passed away—and it was hard for Katniss to care about much of anything anymore. She still had her best friend Gale Hawthorne and his wife Madge, but otherwise, she felt more alone than not. When her boss noticed her increased stress levels and a few minor mistakes in her data that could have been much worse, he ordered her to take some time off and center herself before coming back to work. She should be grateful he hadn’t fired her, and she was, but she also had no idea how to fill her time without spending it in the lab at West Virginia University.

Katniss didn’t like to sit still, and the weeks had loomed before her when she sat alone in her empty house. On a whim one night, she flipped through an old photo album she’d taken from her sister’s place after her funeral. On the third page, she stopped, troubled by the happy smiles jumping off the page and making her heart hurt. After a sleepless night, she maxed out a credit card booking three months—from Memorial Day to Labor Day—at the resort. She needed something. Maybe, just maybe, this was it.

“I wish you were with me, Little Duck.”

Her voice echoed in the empty car, but if she tried really hard, she could almost hear her sister answer.

I wish I was, too. We had so much fun the last time.

“We did, didn’t we?” Katniss chuckled. “You remember that little girl we made friends with? Rue, I think her name was. You two were so alike. Both tiny and sneaky. You used to slink out into the night and meet up with her. I never could catch you, but I knew you were doing it. Mom never did figure it out—or believe me.”

She saddened at the memory. “You were always her favorite.”

Of course, I was. I’m the baby! Was the baby.

“You’ll always be the baby, Prim. No matter how old we get.”

And you’ll always be my hero. The big sister who can do no wrong, who can slay dragons and bullies alike. The one who protected me all her life and made everything that much better when I was still with you.

“I couldn’t protect you from that.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she heard Prim agree.

No, you couldn’t. No one could.

“I should have been able to do it.”

You should stop blaming yourself.

“Maybe someday.”

Maybe someday. Maybe this summer.

Her smile faded as her sister’s voice trailed into silence, and Katniss shook herself and looked at the GPS. Prim was gone, and they hadn’t seen or talked to Rue since that one summer twenty years ago. She wasn’t thirteen anymore. She was thirty-three, a professional agro-botanist working in a grant-funded lab at a major research university. She didn’t have a sister anymore, and she certainly wasn’t going to encounter either one of the young girls dancing in her memories at the resort this summer.

Still…she wanted something more than what she had. Why did the past pull at her so hard?

“Just a little bit of time. That’s all you need,” she muttered to herself, unsure if she was trying to convince herself or merely fill the quiet. When her phone rang, she cursed as she was jerked from her internal dialogue and jerked the wheel before righting the vehicle and pressing down on the brake.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Catnip,” Gale rumbled from the other end. “How’s the drive?”

“Terrible,” she snapped and narrowed her eyes when he chuckled.

“I’m sure it isn’t that bad. You should be almost there by now unless you stopped every five minutes to take soil samples.”

“Well, fuck. I should have stopped every five minutes to take soil samples. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“I’m sure you’ll work that in some once you’re there. Ferns, leaves, bark, soil. You’re a super nerdy scientist through and through. You picked that place for a reason, Kat, and it’s not just because you and your sister had a good time there back when you were teenagers.”

“You don’t know me,” she grumbled but had to admit he was right. She was hoping to get some work done while she was there, despite strict orders to leave the lab back at the university. A real scientist always observed, and if she happened to do that through a microscope that just happened to be in her backseat…well, then, that was just part of the charm of spending her summer at a resort surrounded by a nature preserve called The Woods.

“I know you better than you know yourself,” he retorted. “That’s also why Madge and I booked a cabin next to yours for the week of the Fourth until mid-July. Thought you might be ready for some company by then, and Madge loves getting out of the city for time by the pool. I figure you two can have some girl time, and then I’ll steal you away for nature walks and the like.”

She was so pleased she couldn’t quite stop the smile from tugging at the corners of her mouth. Unwilling to admit her glee, she joked, “Fine. You do know me. And Gale…”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

She was serious, and he knew it. He’d been there through everything—her father’s death when she was eleven, her mother’s snap with reality, Prim’s diagnosis and demise, her own depression as she mourned and floundered. Gale was a godsend friend who shouldered her burdens without making her feel like she owed him. The fact that he’d married her only other real friend solidified his presence in her life in a way that made her grateful that he cared about her and relieved he respected her independence. She hated owing anybody anything, and she especially didn’t like taking anything from strangers.

“You’re welcome,” he answered gruffly. “Text me when you get there, and try to relax a little bit, okay? You really do deserve some time to yourself. You’ve never had time to grieve properly.”

“I mourned Prim,” she reminded him, but that wasn’t all he meant.

“Your father, your mom, Prim, all of it.”

“Yes, all of it. That’s enough, Gale.”

“I’ll talk to you soon, Catnip. Safe rest of the trip.”

“Goodbye, Gale.”

She hung up and checked the screen again. Two more miles, and then she’d take a left into the nature preserve. Just past that was the entrance to the resort’s lodge, and she was ready to be there. Ready to take a shower and get the road off her skin and hair. She wanted a nap and a good dinner before escaping into the book she hadn’t quite managed to finish before leaving on the trip.

When she turned the corner, she flipped off the air conditioner and rolled down the front windows. A warm, humid breeze whipped through the car until she slowed to the requisite 35 miles per hour speed limit. The hybrid motor was practically silent, and she could hear birds chirping to each other as she passed under the natural awning of oak, ash, and maple trees. It was absolutely beautiful, and her heart rate slowed a little as she meandered along the lane that led to her summer escape.

Excitement coursed through her, and she tamped down the tingling sensation that something life-defining awaited her in the next three months.

“I miss you, Prim. If only you were here to share this with me,” she whispered and listened to the wind rustle through the trees.

Maybe I am, came the silent reply.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #maybe this summer #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen

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sidecharacter965 · 5 years ago

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Ruby Meets Yuu (MC)

A/N: Hi all! It’s been a while since I posted actual content and not just reblogs So I present you with a small fic I wrote for the Twst OC Discord’s weekly challenge! I hope it’s okay, I haven’t written in a while lol

“Hey, Explosion-head! Ya got any friends besides The Great Me, Deuce and this one?”

Grim jabbed his paw in the direction of Yuu, who sighed in annoyance. Ace sipped his tea, considering Grim’s question.

“Why do you wanna know? Planning on roping them into this chaos too? If so, I have just the lady for the job! We may not be friends, but her reputation precedes her.” The air froze. Yuu, Grim and Deuce turned their heads towards the red head in confusion.

“... Did you say lady, Ace-kun?” Deuce asked slowly, unsure if he had heard his friend correctly. “Night Raven College is an all-boy academy…”

“Of course I said lady, you idiot! Do you need to get yer ears tested or something?” Ace snarked. “Ruby Chandelle is one of the No.1 troublemakers of the school, apparently her dad is so loaded that she bought her way into Night Raven! An’ they can’t expel her because her parents provide so much funding for the school.”

“But that’s…” Deuce started, wearing an expression mixed with shock and distaste.

“Not what I wanted, but hey, when am I ever given a choice in the matter.” A nonchalant voice interrupted the conversation as a slightly disheveled figure stumbled out of a rose hedge maze that led to Riddle’s ongoing tea party. She was wearing the normal school uniform but had a purple vest instead of the Heartslabyul red. “You should probably get out of here because in about seven point three seconds, the jam tarts will be running away though here and Riddle will be absolutely pissed.” The girl quickly glanced over her shoulder, almost flicking a curly bunch tied with a purple ribbon into Deuce’s face. When Ruby looked back, her eyes settled on Yuu, recognition sparking in her violet orbs.

“Hey… Aren’t you that kid who caused the beautiful commotion in the entrance ceremony? Now that was an entrance!” Ruby would have lost herself to laughing had it not been for the forty or so jam tarts that started running out of the maze. They seemed to have sprouted little legs. “In any case, I should be running now. Can I ask a favor? Of course I can ask a favor you’re the “janitor” here.” Yuu’s patience started running thin. They did not like this girl and did not like the way she called the situation in the entrance ceremony “Beautiful”. It was enough having one student mocking them for the incident and this childish one was pushing her limits. “Tell Kalim- The Scarabia dorm leader- and Lilia,- That’s the one with a green vest- “Rendez-vous dans le troisième labyrinthe.” And make sure not to butcher the pronunciation.”

Ruby then turned on her heels and sped through the gardens. “Oh and Yuu, keep up the chaos, and maybe I’ll recruit you someday!”

She was gone.

Bonus:

“Pfft… Ha… Ha ha ha ha ha!” Ace lay on the ground clutching his stomach. “D-did you see them?! Forty jam tarts running away from the tea party on little legs- AH HA HA Ha haaa…”

“Yes… We saw them.” Deuce sighed.

“It’s been five minutes and he hasn’t stopped laughing.”

“Just let him be…”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland fic #Ruby Chandelle #grim twisted wonderland #ace trappola #deuce spade

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dutifullyfreelady · 4 years ago

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Discovery Week

One of the problems that we are facing today is this pandemic, this pandemic has brought danger to us and it is really a life changer for us, none of us had ever expected that this will happen to us, and because of this pandemic, the numbers of people that are allowed to go outside are just limited from one person per family, but what about those families who are very busy and doesn’t have the time to buy for their needs? In this time of the pandemic, most of us today are only relying on online selling platforms like lazada, shopee, etc, but how certain are we that we will be receiving the right product? How certain are we that our purchased product is 100% safe, legit and not defective? As a matter of fact, we often buy expensive and overcharged items, also we can’t deny the fact that some of the quality of the products that are bought online isn’t worth it. The costumers today are also having a hard time because some of their heavy equipment can’t be delivered door to door, especially that the majority of us doesn’t have a car and the unavailability of the vehicle brought burdens to us also, especially that most of the couriers will not deliver our orders here in our area because it’s in the “bukid”, moreover, there are also a lot of people who lost their job because of the pandemic. As a group, we hypothesize that most of the consumers are having problems in receiving their items from online stores, most of the time they will receive defective items and wrong items, or products that didn’t reach their expectations, maybe it’s because of the mishandling of the courier in addition to that, costumers today are also suffering because of the unavailability of the vehicles.

And to prove our hypothesis, we had conducted an online interview and this will serve as our hypothesis testing to prove whether our hypothesis is right, as much as we would like to interview strangers, we aren’t allowed to go outside and to interact with people whom we don’t know, especially that we are minors. Last September 10, 2020, I already conducted my interview and completed the 8 people, I only interviewed 8 people because I’m not allowed to go outside our subdivision for I am still a minor. The first four people that I had interviewed are Ms. Corrine Joyce Baloc, Ms. Ghendie Ann Rubin, Mr. Nathaniel Laquia, Sarah Salagantin, and Ms. Cyrell Escudero they were my classmates in Senior High School and they are currently studying at Xavier University Ateneo de Cagayan as a Psychology student, it is important to include students in our interview because they are one of our market targets, the four of them shares the same problem, as a consumer, their problem is that they are easily being deceived by the sales talk and being fooled by the pictures in the online shop and they usually get a low-quality product, like such as she would discover that their purchased product does easily get broken after few weeks of using it, they also have a problem of overpricing and overcharging of the products. We included them in our interview because most of the consumers today are teenagers and students. The fifth and sixth and seventh person on my list is Kyneshi Omamalin and Rey Inihao, they are already in their mid-30’s and currently working at Rebisco Corporation at Alae, Manolo Fortich, Bukidnon, one of their problems as a consumer is that they usually get upset most of the time because of the turtle service of the company today specially that we are in the midst of a pandemic, the service today is really slow and for the eighth person on my list is Ms. Rhoda Petalcurin, she is a housewife and according to her, one of her problem as a consumer is that most of the time, the information of the products aren’t complete that’s why she is having a hard time on what product she will be purchasing because most of the sales lady today doesn’t have a pleasing attitude and aren’t approachable.

Based on the hypothesis testing that we had made through an online interview, we proved our hypothesis right, most of the consumers' problem today is getting defective products, products who aren’t worthy of our penny and receiving wrong items, while some of us are having problems with an unapproachable sales representative and because of that, the consumers often bought the wrong products because they don’t have any knowledge on what product they will be purchasing.

During our group meeting we have discussed on what problem we will be solving, I suggested to them that we will just be making an app that will provide and cater all the needs of the consumers, since our hypothesis is proven right, In order to help the costumers and the jobless people who are in need, the our group decided that we will be developing an app just like food panda and grab, by this app, we will be able to help those who are in need, our app will be called “GRAB IT” our app will not only focus on the foods, we will also catering other concerns, for an instance, there is this girl who needs to buy a new earphones because her old earphones is already broken, all she needs to do is to is to download the app on the play store and app store, after downloading the app, she will see a list of riders that is available, she will then choose her rider and book for an appointment, after booking her appointment, a confirmation code via SMS will be sent to her, all she needs to do is to input the code, after that, the costumer will have the number of the rider so both of us can talk properly and also for the costumers convenience, the costumer will tell her concern to the rider and the rider will serve as an helping hand to the costumer, the rider will then go to the mall to buy her desired earphones, and it will be deliver to their houses, door to door, the mode of payment will be cash on delivery and via bank and for the jeepny drivers, they are the ones who will be catering the needs of the costumers, specifically in purchasing heavy objects and equipment, for example, costumer 2 is having a hard time because his purchased cabinet and sofa sets will not be delivered to his house due to the strict implementation of the ECQ, all he need to do will just book for an appointment and after few hours, his cabinet and sala set will now be delivered to him. To make sure that the costumers are not playing a prank, we will be implementing strict rules and regulations that they need to follow, and if they will be violating this, we will make them pay for a fine ranging from 100,000-900,000 to ensure that none of our riders will be tricked since we will be using the company’s fund to buy their needs. We choose this solution because we want to help the people who are suffering due to the pandemic as well as to the drivers who lost their jobs due to the pandemic, also our prices are very affordable and reasonable, especially that all of us are having a hard time during this times. Our prospect target will be the people who are living specifically in Bukidnon and Cagayan de Oro, we will be having three warehouses, our first warehouse will be located at Valencia Bukidnon, we chose that area so we can cater people who are in nearby areas just like Maramag and Malaybalay City, our second warehouse will be located at Cagayan de Oro City while the third one will be located at Manolo Fortich Bukidnon so we can cater people who are living near Manolo Fortich just like Alae, Damilag, Crossing, Libona and Camp Phillps Bukidnon, anyone who are living in the said area, specially that most of the couriers will not deliver in that area, it would be an advantage for us since we will only have small competitors, who’s age are ranging from 15 and up will be our customers, we choose that age gap because most of the people who are in that age are the ones who are fond of using online business and other online selling platforms. Luckily, all of my groupmates agreed on my suggestion.

I learned a lot of lesson in this week, one of them is having teamwork, as we all know teamwork is a lesson that all of us should never forget, because you will have to work in groups in your life, if we will ignore teamwork and cooperation, we will face lots of challenges and difficulties along the way, just like for example, in a group, without teamwork, no work will be accomplished and if everyone works in a group, the amount of work that is accomplished is more than what an individual alone can achieve. When everyone works in a team, we can achieve our goal, it makes things easier for every person in an organization, therefore working in teams helps each person in the team or group aside from that, you can learn a lot of things from your groupmates, and this proves that no man is an island.

#entreprenuership #entrepreneur #interviewdone #myfirstblog #entreprenuerlife #firstweek

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aussie-em · 6 years ago

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Well This Can’t Be Good

Camp Half Blood Genderbend Chapter 1

Read on A03

Read on FFnet

In which the demigods of Camp Half Blood have their genders changed. And the Hunters of Artemis. Did I mention they're mad at Dionysus? Remember when everyone was safe and alive and happily living at Camp Half Blood after Heroes of Olympus with Leo and Solangelo? Nope, I don't either.

First

All

*Annabeth*

Annabeth woke up to the sound of screaming.

She raced out to the Athena Cabin's porch, ignoring the sick feeling in her stomach. After a second of searching for the culprit of the screaming, she wasn't surprised to find that the Aphrodite cabin was running around, as fast as their Gucci high heels could take them.

What she was surprised with, though, was that the rest of the camp was running around in the fray.

Annabeth hurried back inside, absentmindedly stepping over one of her brothers who was asleep on the ground and grabbed some of her clothes to change before dealing with this mess. As she closed the door she finally took a look at herself through the mirror.

Wait.

Her hand floated up to where her hair used to be. She scanned over herself in the mirror.

Hades...

She quickly changed and bolted into the main cabin. "Uh... Anyone else feeling different?" She called.

"ANNABETH!" Her youngest brother, Riley, screamed. "I'M A GIRL!"

The ten-year-old most certainly was. His usually short blonde hair was now styled into a bob, and he had a more feminine shape to his frame. She looked over the rest of her siblings, noticing Hannah, Riley's twin, was now male, her long hair gone.

She cursed as Malcolm walked over, looking uncomfortable. "Any ideas?"

He shook his head then paused. He had seemed to come to the same conclusion as she had.

"Dionysus... last night." She groaned.

"He is the Greek god of gender." He nodded.

Annabeth sighed as she ran her hands over her face and pushed the new hair covering her forehead out of her eyes. "C'mon. We gotta tell Chiron."

Seconds later, a certain son of Poseidon swung open the door to the Athena cabin the same time she was pulling it open.

"Annabeth." He sighed, slipping his fingers through hers as she pulled him and Malcolm along to find Chiron.

"So... what happened?" He inquired, trusting she would have the answer at hand.

She didn't.

"I- I don't really know." She blinked. "The gods' powers are hard to understand. But think about it; Dionysus is the god of gender."

He whistled lowly. "Last night." He guessed.

"Yyyep." Annabeth pulled a face.

They stopped as Chiron cantred up to them.

"Annabeth?" He guessed.

"Yes. We think our genders have-"

"Changed." Their teacher finished gravely. "I suspected that much."

Percy raised his free hand tentatively, looking around at the panicked state of the camp. "Just wanted to let you know; the Aphrodite cabin is having a full-on panic attack. Drew fainted, but at least she is out for the count. On the other hand, Piper is probably using a bit too much charmspeak."

"Got it." She stressed, then turned back to Chiron. "We were just coming to find you. Counsellor meeting?"

"Yes. Percy, can you run and find Piper? I hate to pull her away from her cabin and their... panicked state, but we'll need her charmspeak to calm down the rest of the camp if Drew is unconscious. I'm worried that we won't be able to calm everyone down without her. Malcolm, Annabeth; go find the cabin counsellors."

"Already on it. Malcolm; I'll do one to twelve; you get everyone else."

Percy and Malcolm ran off ungracefully to find their respective peers.

Annabeth turned to him and sighed. "And to think we only had nine days until school was back in and no drama."

Chiron chuckled sourly as she ran off to find the remaining eight head counsellors of the Olympian gods.

An hour later, the demigod head counsellors of each cabin had communed in the Big House rec room. Ten minutes later, Dionysus had communicated (through his sons, of course, because he wouldn't speak to anyone else) to the demigods the idea that they might have to get used to their new bodies.

Clovis even woke up from his chair in the corner when Nico screeched, "HOW LONG?!"

He was already sulking in a corner, Will rubbing his forehead as he tried to coax his boyfriend out of the shadows.

"Calm. Down. Nico!" Will placed a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder. "It might actually be interesting!"

"And wait until Hazel finds out you're a girl!" Piper finished. Nico and Will glared at her simultaneously as she and Leo laughed. "She might even want to come over and stay a bit."

Nico's hair was even longer than before. Annabeth stifled a laugh at the thought that Piper purely wanted to braid Nico's hair, now that she had more to work with. Even Annabeth rarely escaped that.

Nico just groaned and buried his face in his hands.

Dionysus' son chuckled sourly. "Well, at least we didn't change."

Leo laughed. "What do you mean? You're missing out!" He cackled as he threw his head back and set his mass of curly hair on fire. Annabeth didn't like how this was going. He was definitely enjoying this way too much.

"Well!" Annabeth directed a soft glare at Leo which made him sit up and pat the flames out of his smouldering hair. "I guess we just need to go back to our cabins and..." she blinked. "Well, any questions before that?"

Samantha from Hebe raised her hand and didn't wait before she called out; "Should we change our names? You know, so they're similar but respective genders?"

Annabeth considered this. "No. That would be too confusing. Keep your names."

"Pronouns?" Someone under the table asked.

Annabeth grimaced. She knew this would be difficult to explain. "Well... let people know what pronouns you go by. We can get wrist ties in pink, blue and green, maybe. I know the pink-blue idea is sexist but it'll be the easiest way to silently communicate the pronouns across. If someone uses the wrong ones, just correct them, please."

"How will we get different clothes?"

"I guess we could trade clothes with our siblings, or close friends," Miranda Gardener shrugged, "Or the camp store. How about getting the camp store to give every camper two outfits? That should be enough if everyone else swaps, or you can just wear the clothes you have now."

"Perfect, Miranda," Annabeth nodded. "No more questions?" She inquired, looking around the room. When nobody spoke, she continued, "Well... let's just be grateful that the Hunters left last night. During the night... oh no." She groaned. "Does anyone have a drachma?"

Percy passed her one, and as she was about to throw it into the fountain on the wall, a perfectly timed Iris Message came through from Thalia.

There was almost as much screaming there as there was at camp this morning. Thalia stood in the front of it all, looking almost unchanged.

"Annabeth!? Explain."

*Piper*

The Aphrodite Cabin was in shock. Piper needed all of her influence over her siblings and some other panicking campers. Fortunately or not, Drew was still unconscious.

"PIPER!" Dianne screeched, "I have nothing to wear, my hear is completely ruined, and I can't wear makeup, because I AM A BOY!"

Piper sighed and held out her hand in a 'stop' motion. "Dianne, we all have problems with this. Take a deep breath, exhale, inhale, calm down." She didn't even notice she was using charmspeak until the rest of the cabin seemed to stop and breathe a louder.

"Listen, everyone. No screaming, please. And Lacy, can you write this down for Drew? I really don't want to explain this to her." Piper breathed a long sigh of relief as Lacy, the cabins resident secretary, nodded and grabbed a notepad from the chest at the bottom of her bunk.

"This curse has been given until the next Summer Solstice. That's in about nine months time."

She took a sharp breath, expecting Drew to raise up from the dead, or someone to override her charmspeaking powers. Thankfully, nobody did and Drew remained unconscious.

"Dionysus issued the curse, so there's really no way to reverse it. We're not going to change our names, but you can change your pronouns if you so wish, and we'll have bracelets or anklets made with your pronouns written on it if you want it. You're getting a free outfit from the camp store, you could swap clothes with your siblings, and you can obviously fund your own shopping antics if you choose to buy more," But knowing her siblings, Piper muttered, "Which you can sell or donate or something at Summer Solstice."

She tried to remember what else Annabeth and Dionysus' son had mentions regarding this situation.

"Oh yeah. Also, because Dionysus is ever so merciful, the mist will change you back to your normal selves outside camp borders, or really when you aren't near any mythological beings. So you won't have to be worried about your school, or parents." Piper grimaced, hoping none of her siblings' parents or their siblings could see through the mist. But Aphrodite wasn't really one for telling her lovers about the whole 'the Greek gods are alive and thriving' thing.

She rolled her eyes, remembering that Annabeth mentioned quietly to her afterwards that the real reason Dionysus had more control over the mist inside the camps barrier and he was pretty powerless in the outside world. She wasn't about to mention this to her siblings though.

"The Hunters of Artemis are going to be especially annoyed, so if they come over in the next three quarters of the year please try not to pick any fights with them. Any more questions?"

Nobody called out, and Lacy scribbled on her notepad for a second more before adding a dot to the end of her sentence and nodded, "Is Artemis male now?"

Piper shook her head. "Dionysus doesn't have that sort of power over another god, especially another one more powerful than he is, and Artemis can always change her form anyway."

Nobody else called out, so Piper took that thankfully as no more questions for her to answer with her limited knowledge of the situation.

"Great. Well, it's time for breakfast. Quickly, get changed and we'll go. We still have the next nine and a half months to survive and to figure this out."

#chb genderbend #annabeth chase #annabeth #percy jackson #Piper McLean #camphalfblood #rick riordan #hey look i wrote it early

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elliesproblems · 6 years ago

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To Whom it May Concern: Chapter Five

Running from Certain Death

Entry: November 13th, 2017

I hate that she has become this all capable being of my nightmares. Like a mean girl at highschool who can make the whole building her army at the flip of a coin. It doesn’t matter who is right and who is wrong. Loyalty doesn’t always mean good. But she was an awkward person, and I doubted any mean girl could have the power to change anyone's minds in mass like she did.

It hurts to know that those you have come to trust can be a liability; that they are dependable as long as it doesn’t go against her grains. It’s been a year since it’s happened and still I don’t know why or how. Maybe it’s the not knowing that makes me think of her as all persuasive. I don’t know how she did it or why they all left me behind.

Maybe it’s the not knowing that feeds the paranoia of it happening again. I knew she was drifting, I knew she was unhappy, but I could have never seen it all coming. It was series of believing that it couldn’t get any worse only for someone to punch me in the gut around the next corner.

I’ve met the person that comes out when I’m on the cold concrete, and being stupid enough to believe that it can’t get worse. The girl that lived through it all; never saw the end of it. I shut it out and locked Jay alongside it. I got rid of it all to be able to breathe again. I lost it all, Jay included. It was as if I were orbiting alone, in the darkness; seeing them all together and happy, but never apart of it all. I’ve had my fair share of wanting to never be here, or wishing to not be alive, but they were always these abstract feelings. They were desires with no words to them.

It was then that I actually felt the first want to die; not in a ‘no longer exist’ way, but in a ‘I want to feel the pain fade away from my body, and never have to look at any of their faces again’ way.

Despite how angry I was with them, knowing that dying might very well be the only way for them to feel any remorse for blaming me. I was still more scared of the idea of wanting to prove a point with my blood than than the idea of them leaving me again. I was determined to prove them all wrong, but cowardice stopped me, and cowardice saved my life. In that long year, I learned to live without them all, and I made the biggest gap between me and all of them that I could manage, so the if she were to ever come back, none of them could hurt me. She could take them, there was no changing that, but at least this time I won’t need them. She did this to Jay but she could never touch me.

Sometimes I hate myself for still caring about how little they value us. It’s old news, but still an ulcer. Sometimes I try to save myself from it.

When it seems like I have nowhere else to turn and the only way to escape the walls that are both closing in so fast I can’t breathe, and the walls that are receding so fast that I could never catch up, it seems like the only option is to just punch your own ticket, and get the hell out of here.

It would be the only way for them to regret what they did; and it would be the only way for closure. They are all at fault and then they would finally have to wear the weight of it.

But I survived it the first time. Not a lot of me survived, but I'm here. Somehow. Now all that’s left is the fear of her coming back for round two, and I know that I will not last. I’ve come to terms with the weakness of my own mind.

I’ve learned that wanting to disappear from the hands of your ‘loved’ ones is an addictive emotion that feeds the destructive fire bleeding into my actions as I grow to always be angry with their failure to see right from wrong. I blame them the way they blamed me, but there is one simple solution to satisfy the want to end it all. It ties over the feeling I get whenever I look over a railing for a little too long or when I take three pills where I only needed one.

I can just disappear. I can drive off into the sunset and into the unknown because what I’ve known hasn’t been all that great. If this place that I am at is slowly killing me, then it’s only sensible to leave, kill the person I once was, and become another. I wanted to stand up and refuse to be someone I wasn't anymore. I wanted so badly to become someone she never met so I did. I wanted to become someone that wasn’t hurt by them, but I still was, and I never went through with it. I never demanded to be seen as someone else. I never had the funds before the feeling grew more violent and demanded more than a new persona.

November 13th, 2017

I’m too comfortable with how things are now, it makes me feel restless. I’m worried for the future and how many times I’ll have to compromise where most shouldn’t. I’m worried with how predictable I’ve become, and how I know my limit will be passed again.

I’ve learned to let go of T***. I was holding on for what was familiar rather than love. I’ve learned to be happy for him and the fact that his life is falling into place faster than anyone expected. But I worry for the possibility of her coming to the wedding. It’s haunted me enough quiet nights.

She has the ability to turn everyone against me, and even if she’s gone from my life, everyone I’ve ever talked to serves as a bridge to her. They’ll willingly bring her back, and I’ll lose what little footing I’ve gotten back,

I worry for how predictable I’ve become because I know what will become of me if she is given the second chance to do it again. Every foothold I’ve gained lacks the security and strengths of the friendships I once had. I’ve learned where they all stand when they look at me.

T*** will stay true until a better opportunity rolls around; I hope next time he won’t have to push me away to get to it. Even now, every missed meet up and late answers sends tremors through our poorly crafted makeup, made of nothing more than pretending nothing ever happened. He only came back once I learned to be content alone.

F**** will only pretend to be supportive, but will defend her no matter the cost. She digs for feelings, with only the intent to feed the information to her, congratulating her on a job well done. It’s only common sense not to trust F**** to have my well being in mind.

Dads support only goes as far as he can understand, and even then, there are a few things he won’t support regardless. He’s not as protective as I originally pegged him out to be. As long as nobody got physical or foul mouthed, he was willing to support her. Because he understood her side more than mine.

Mother was only fed F****s words, and she was easily the first to turn against me. I was made to appear crazy by the very person who drove me there.

I won’t be able to stand a second round even though it’s close approaching. She shows her face at the wedding, they all approach her with “I miss you’”s and “I haven’t seen you in a while”’s. They all know it’s because of me, and this time they won’t consider my well being. And if she can turn them against me the first time, when I believed that they were mine. I want to say I wont see the second time coming, but that was true for the first, and we all know, it will somehow always be worse.

I can’t outlive a second round. I hate to be dramatic, but I have to prepare.

I’ll be saving money to run off to Biloxi because I can’t kill myself if I’m in my happy place, right? I don’t know for how long. I might hide out there until I’ve become a missing person, or I may just live their until I emotionally level out.

And sure, it seems predictable, but none of them would waste the time to come looking for me anyways.

A note from the future, because sometimes your biggest fears are not as terrible as you think they are. Maybe there is a 'pleasantly surprised' to count on.

She is invited to the wedding. I knew in advance, T*** admitted himself that it had been a mistake, but the damage was done. She knew the date and the place, and had never been one for human decently to know she shouldn't have been welcomed.

The biggest surprise was that she wasn't.

T*** did not uninvite her. He didn't want to seem rude, he thought she would show up anyways, she was there when he got together with his now husband, he did want her there.

So I gave up. I didn't save anything because I was promised that I had nothing to fear, and I was part of the wedding, after all. He wanted me there. Just not badly enough. How could he be rude to her even through her putting him several thousand dollars in debt? How could he be rude to her even after all she's done to what he claims is his best friend?

I stayed home. I resigned my place, I gave up, I was not ready for the 'I miss you's and 'I haven't seen you in awhile’s, but I knew they were coming. I wasn't ready for round two, but I knew it was coming. I thought I knew, but I was wrong twice now.

Dad stayed home, F**** stayed home, E**** mom, all of them. I never gave a second to think that they would, but this time they stood by me. This time I wasn't on my own to be blamed.

#ellies log #elliesproblems #i love yall #to whom it may concern.#chapter five #osdd system #osdd #did #disasociative identity disorder

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afroarmy94 · 6 years ago

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Breaking the Rules (m)

Summary: cliche idol au where the boys notice you and it devolves to sinnnn

• "You look so delicious sweetheart that we're doing our best not to eat you up right this instance. Don't test our patience with your adorable pouting because once we're done with you you'll see just how sure we are about our choice." •

Pairing: ot7 x reader

Warnings: pure smut, maybe a hint of like fluffy possessiveness??, some JiHope, it’s an orgy so yeah

Word count: 2.6k

a/n: I’m a terrible tumblr user so maybe check out my ao3: afrohexe. But I want to learn how to format fics better on here! Also this is my first x reader fanfic and I’m super nervoussss. Leave and comments or suggestions!!

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Standing outside of the concert hall you find yourself almost unable to handle the fact that you're going to see these boys live and not just through your phone screen at ungodly hours of the night.

Time seems to pass too fast and too slow at the same time and before you know it you were already standing in front of the stage. (sorry not sorry to all the other army you pushed out of the way to get there).

Finally, they're there and you're losing your mind. A few songs in you bless your size for being able to barrel you next to the stage because you swear that you've made eye contact with the members multiple times. Knowing that thousands of people have done it before, you pull out your phone just needing to capture what must be a once in a life experience because who will believe you about all this eye contact?? So, you sneak your phone out for a mini video during Joon's part in Mic Drop. His eyes were literally on you till he accidentally tripped and you couldn't believe that you caught such a cute moment on your device!

Thinking nothing of it you put your phone away satisfied. After the mic drop performance they have a mini break where they show small videos on the large screens and as you coo at how cute they are suddenly you feel a firm hand on your shoulder. Thinking it’s another concert goer you shrug them off, but they pull on you and you see that it’s actually a security guard. Your blood runs cold knowing that this could only mean one thing. BigHit did warn everyone that they were enforcing security this year but based on all the fancams you still saw you thought you could get away with it... apparently you were wrong.

You feel your heart drop to the floor as he guides you out of the crowd, you try not to cry as you feel the shame of people staring. The guard ends up bringing you to a room in the concert hall and tells you not to leave till the end of the concert. Finally, alone with your own thoughts you can't stop the tears from falling. You were at least thankful that it was towards the end of the concert and that you wouldn't miss out too much but still not seeing the full concert was heart wrenching.

You don't know how much time has passed when you hear "Are you the little trouble maker? "

You can't believe your eyes when they meet Joon's without a stage separating you. You start blabbering your apologies when he says, " It's alright Y/N we dont mind"

"we?" and then before you can wrap your mind around the fact that he said your name, from behind him come the rest of Bangtan. That was enough for you to start seeing spots and then everything went black.

You feel your head swimming and light piercing your eyes. Maybe you should have stocked up on more sugar before waiting in line for hours, because the hallucinations you were having were so life like. You swear you hear the deep rumble of Jeon Jungkook's voice and either your years of Korean classes were going down the drain or he was actually complaining to his hyungs about how good you smell.

"If you couldn't handle sitting next to her than you shouldn't have pushed us all away Guk" said someone with a tinkling laugh. You feel the body next to you warm up as if the blush has traveled in equal amounts to his embarrassment. And it was this warmth that prompted you to let the dream wash over you and just snuggle into it. Before your world becomes quiet again you hear a gasp followed with a laughter from far away.

As you slowly wake up from the most realistic dream you've ever had about the boys you find your surroundings definitely not being the hotel room you had rented with your limited funds. You start to sit up and see someone in the corner of the room, before you could scream though you recognize the very very familiar face. "H-Hoseok?"

He smiles at you and asks if you're feeling better. All you can do is nod cause you're at a complete loss for words.

"We had to bring you back to our hotel because we couldn't find who you were with, I hope that's okay. We didn't want to leave you at the mercy of our staff," he laughs.

"Oh my god I'm so so sorry about breaking the rules, do you think they'll sue me?? I'll be forbidden to ever attend another concert and I’ll be broke and live on the stree-" he cuts off your rambling with a finger on your mouth. "Shh Y/N it won't be that bad, I'm sure they'll see how sorry you are."

You know these words were meant to comfort you but the look in his eyes did the exact opposite. His fingers move from your mouth down your jaw, and you stay completely still, letting him basically trace your whole face with his hands.

"You're an obedient one aren't you," he purrs. You're surprised your eyes remain in their sockets and that you don't choke on your own saliva because surely he can't be saying what you think. "I know I'm supposed to wait for the others but surely a kiss wouldn't hurt, I'm sure you want to show how sorry you really are right?" You just nod not knowing if he was serious or not. "Use your words, baby."

And before you can even think you're mouth starts moving, "Yes, I want to show you how sorry I am."

"I told you she'd be perfect"

You almost jump three feet in the air when you hear the voice of Namjoon coming into the room. Hoseok looks less than happy with the interruption. "I was just getting to the good part Joooon."

"Not without us you aren't hyung," says Jungkook entering the room as well. You have no control over your face as the members come in one by one, but you know you must be a sight by the way they giggle when they see you.

"She is perfect hyung, look at the way she almost let Hobi-hyung kiss her right away," observes Taehyung and Jimin nods enthusiastically beside him.

Namjoon sits down on the hotel bed next to you and begins to explain, "You see baby I have a talent for judging people from sight, it makes me a good leader as well. And when I saw you shyly trying to film me I knew it wasn't to post on twitter but just for yourself, but I couldn't help but notice that you were filming during quite a risqué scene huh?" You nod shyly " Don't be embarrassed baby girl, you're going to be perfect company for us, we love an angel with a dark side to her."

They must believe you've lost your voice at this point because you're pretty sure you haven't said a single word this whole time since they've all stepped into the room.

"So Princess, would you do the honor of spending a night with us?" This voice comes from Yoongi who's otherwise been standing off to the side quietly observing but the look in his eyes makes it seem like he's really really hoping for this and how could you ever say no to your favorite honey boy.

"Yes, I'd love to spend a night with all of you b-but are you sure me? I'm not tall or thin or especially pretty??" You can't believe you're actually about to ruin this moment with your insecurity but as you gaze down to your ample chest and tum, seeing your thighs pancake as you sit, you can’t help but think it's all a joke. As you look back up you notice that they followed your line of sight. The look in their eyes were so dark you didn't know if you had angered them by making them realize what you actually look like or what.

Jin makes his way behind you placing his hands on your shoulders, "You look so delicious sweetheart that we're doing our best not to eat you up right this instance. Don't test our patience with your adorable pouting because once we're done with you you'll see just how sure we are about our choice."

"So will you let us show you why we chose you? Make sure to use your words so we know."

"Y-yes, please show me."

As you say this Jin reaches in front of you to take off your shirt leaving you in your bra and shorts. You try to cover your stomach but before you can Taehyung reaches and stops you. "Don't hide from us little one, we want to see all of you."

"It's all I could think about when performing" comments Jungkook. The others nod in agreements and you let them start stripping you. There's hands everywhere on you at once pushing you down into the bed and it finally clicks in your head what's happening. As soon as it does you start to feel how unconsciously wet you had already gotten. You notice that Jin is still behind you but now underneath you and you begin to complain about how heavy you are, but he says he wants to feel you on top of him. He tells you how soft your curves are and how he wants to take his time exploring you.

You feel a tickle in your inner thigh. "Look at you dirty girl, were you this wet watching us perform too? Hmmm were you going to stroke this beautiful pussy once you got home tonight?" Jimin seems to be talking to himself more than to you as he tentatively licks your folds. "Oh my fuck, you have to taste her." You had never been confident about your taste but as Jungkook leans in to take a taste as well and hums in appreciation you let out a shameless moan. This seems to be all the consent the rest need to pounce.

Yoongi is asking if he can enter your mouth and as you drool and nod he slips his member in. "F-fuck, her mouth feels so good. I knew your lips would be perfect around my cock baby."

You hear a whine from Tae and you try to give him attention as well, switching between him and Yoongi.

Jin is still underneath you wrapping himself around you and massaging your chest. "Look how they spill out of my palms, you were meant for this weren't you sweetheart. Joon come and fuck our sweetheart's perfect tits." You hear a groan and Joon comes above you to do exactly that. He grabs your breasts and smears his precum on them making them smooth for him to glide in between. This along with Jin pinching your nipples lets you know your chest is going to be sore days later.

"I need to feel her hyungs," whines Jungkook. And before you can register where he wants to feel you, there’s a tentative brush of his hardness against your folds. You're almost ashamed of how soaking you must be. Taking a breath from servicing Tae and Yoongi you plead with Jungkook to enter you. He does so in one thrust and because of how much stimulation you've been getting, you cum from that alone. "Holy shit she's so f-fucking tight. Did you come all over my cock baby? Does it feel that good?" You can do nothing but cry as the aftershocks hit you. Thankfully he waits till you come down to start thrusting. "O-oh my god Jungkook you feel so good." You can't believe how full you feel, your vibrators being nothing compared to this. You hear skin smacking but not just from you and look over to see Hoseok mounting Jimin as they watch you get destroyed by the other boys. They notice you looking and Hoseok smirks, "Don't worry princess, we'll take care of you later as well." Jimin is close enough that you can grab his length in his hand and start pumping him. He lets out a gasp, "You’re such a greedy girl aren't you baby? Does it turn you on to see what you do to us? I can't even wait to be in you later." It's amazing how dominant Jimin still is even while bottoming.

You feel Tae and Yoongi rubbing themselves on your cheek trying to get your attention again. Before you take them back into your mouths you hear Jin ask you something from underneath you. " Think you can handle me in this perfect ass baby hm? Have you had anything in your ass before?" When you say yes, he laughs calling you a dirty angel and starts rubbing himself against your hole before he starts entering. Once he's full seated inside you feel like you might explode from all the sensation.

Jungkook always being competitive won't let you forget him (though you never could anyway) and he starts thrusting deep and hard in time with Jin.

The room is filled with such lewd sounds you're hoping that no one walks by. You are drooling all over Tae and Yoongi's cocks. While you masturbate Jimin who's being plowed by Hoseok. Joon on top of you using your breasts as he pleases. While Jin and Jungkook are inside of you and you swear they're rearranging your insides.

You're about to cum a second time and as you voice this you hear the others grunt in unison, and as the perfectly synchronized group they are you all cum at once and you see stars for the second time this night but this time you recover much quicker. Seeing the boy's faces as they orgasm will be forever imprinted on your mind and you don't even mind the mess they make on you.

You all lie there for a minute just allowing the bliss to wash over you. As Jin and Jungkook slide out of you and Joon grabs a towel to clean you up with. Once your clean you try to reach down to grab your underwear but Hoseok stops you. "When I said that I was going to be inside you later I meant it. You're not going anywhere for the night." Yoongi comes up from behind you and says into your neck, "Actually can you not go anywhere ever cause I haven’t come that hard in a long time and if that was just from your mouth I can't wait to see what your pussy can do."

As you look around you see that everyone is nodding in agreement. "You all want me to like...stay stay with you?"

"I know this must sound like the orgasm talking but baby girl that was an amazing time, I knew you'd be able to handle all of us with this sinful body of yours. If you'll have us we'd love for this to not be a one time thing." Joon's deep breaths lets you know that he's definitely serious about this.

"Hmmm but I think I already paid more than enough for my crime." Their faces fall and as you giggle they get confused. Even though you are super shy you're super sexually open and maybe also a little bratty. So, to see that they'd think you would refuse them was too good an opportunity to pass up. Before Joon can come up with a counter argument you shush him.

"I think the real question here is if you can handle me.... Daddy."

The air becomes still, and you fear that maybe you messed up with that certain kink. But before you can apologize, you see them all hard again. This time there is no hesitation to touch and kiss you as hard as they want. As you feel two of them try to enter you at once this time you realize that maybe you bit off more than you can chew...

#BTS smut #BTS #BTS scenarios #BTS imagines #BTS x reader #ot7 x reader #chubby reader #BTS idol au #army reader #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

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vsheridanwrites · 6 years ago

Text

Need a little break?

I know that this isn’t always the best day for people, so if you need a ten minute break from whatever, see below for a short story. Read fast, this is only up for 48 hours!

Title: Under Mistletoe

Description: 1st person point-of view. Historic (1934), romantic fluff, using my characters from my novel No Good Men, out with NineStar Press in the spring

It’s a small Christmas tree, but it suits since we are a small family with just the three of us. It’s so small that Pearl decorated it by herself, her tiny hands weaving paper chains among the branches and placing ornaments with as much care as a six-year-old can muster. When she finished, Alex declared it the best tree he ever saw. Perhaps it is. He did not have a happy childhood.

I, on the other hand, spent Christmases surrounded by a very large family, and a monied family at that. Our trees were large, decorated with beads and tinsel and glass and peppered underneath with dozens of gift. The whole day was loud and filled with food and music. It was almost enough to make me forget that it never felt quite right.

Alex yawns and flops next to me on the couch with a cup of coffee for each of us, blinking against the early hour. His sandy hair is sticking up along the side, and I smooth it down for him. He gives me a half-smile and leans against me.

“Merry Christmas, Sev,” he mumbles.

I pat his knee, then tilt his cup straighter so he doesn’t spill his drink across our laps. “Buon Natale, caro.”

Pearl has already ripped through her presents. There weren’t many, three to be exact. One from Alex and me, one from Bella, and one we insisted was from Santa. I feel a little sad that we could only find the funds for so few things, but after meeting her birth father I think three is three more than she got last year. She does have a stocking full of candy and cookies, though, and she has already eaten her way through half. I consider lecturing her on patience, but it is only once a year.

“Why don’t you try on the dress Bella got you to make sure it fits,” Alex calls to her.

Pearl pauses mid-bite through a sugar cookie, then nods enthusiastically. “‘Kay,” she says through a mouthful of crumbs. She snatches up the dress from its box and starts heading for the stairs. She stops before she gets there, turns, then races up to us. She holds the cookie out to me. “Can you hold this?”

“Of course I can,” I answer as I take it from her. As soon as it leaves her hand she bolts upstairs.

Alex chuckles. “Look at you, letting her have cookies for breakfast. I thought you were supposed to be the responsible parent?”

“Keep saying things like that and next year I make sure we only get her oranges.”

“What’s wrong with oranges? I got oranges for Christmas as a kid and it was great.”

“Do not take this badly, caro, but you are entirely too easy to please.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just really good at it.”

He kisses my cheek briefly, so briefly that it barely happens. Many of his kisses are like that, quick and furtive. Some of it comes from hiding, but some comes from his nature. He is anxious and impulsive, his mind flipping through a hundred things a minute. Even now, half-asleep and sitting, he is not still. His fingers drum silently against his cup.

“Relax,” I say. “There’s no reason to be so jumpy.”

He laughs again, awkwardly. “No, you’re right. Just…”

He tries to avoid speaking by taking a drink, but I can tell he’s flustered. He’s so expressive – his eyebrows and mouth twitch at the slightest change of emotion, and his pale skin will flush bright red – and right now his forehead is furrowed in thought.

“Are you sad,” he asks finally, “that you’re not with your family?”

So he’s noticed how pensive I’ve been the last few days. Or maybe he hasn’t, and he’s just being himself, chasing down every mental road to see where it leads him. “I am with my family,” I say.

He gives me a skeptical look. He knows how I play with words to make things seem better than they are. “You know what I mean.”

Well, I don’t want to lie to him. Not outright. “I miss them, I do. But I am not sad. I am…” I struggle over the words in English. They aren’t so easy when I’m tired. “I wish they could see me happy, but since they won’t…” I shrug. “Then they don’t deserve to see it.”

He watches me expectantly, but I don’t have anything else to say. There were always many versions of me, but I’m too old to keep up all the facades. I had to let one go, and I chose the one I hated most. If people preferred that one, well, it was a living lie, and I won’t do it anymore. If they want to see playacting they should go to the theater.

Alex gives up waiting for me to speak again and returns to his coffee. I wonder if he is sad. I do not know much about his life before this, but I know he had two friends who are now dead. Maybe there were more I don’t know about who he had to abandon, though I suspect not. He’s actually very shy; I’ve never seen him introduce himself without prompting.

Pearl thunders down the stairs and skids back into the living room in stockinged feet. She beams, ecstatic. And why would she not be? The dress my cousin has given her is fit for a princess. It’s a rich plum color with white lace on the collar, cuffs, and hem, with a white sash that I suspect is made of silk. Alex’s eyes widen, and I’m sure he is worried about how much it cost. But Bella has a lot of money and a much bigger heart than people give her credit for. If she wants to give the girl an expensive dress, who are we to stop her?

“Che magnifica,” I say. “How wonderful! You should write Bella a nice note tomorrow to thank her.”

Pearl nods, but she’s not really listening as she holds the skirt out to admire it. She squeals and spins, and when she stops she runs up to us, her hands folded together to plead. “Can I wear it today? Can I, can I?”

Alex opens his mouth, but I am faster. “All right, but you must be very careful in it. You wouldn’t want to ruin it on the first day of having it.”

“I’ll be careful!” she promises.

“Bene. Then why don’t you bring your new toys to your room and finish getting dressed before church.”

She runs to the tree to gather the teddy bear and wind-up car from beneath the tree, eager to obey quickly lest I revoke the permission. Alex sighs and gives me a look that’s more amused than annoyed.

“Now she’s never going to want to take it off,” he mutters into his coffee as she races back up the stairs.

I shrug. “Wouldn’t you rather she wear it than we pack it away and then discover she outgrew it before she could put it on?”

“Good point. Knew you were the smart one in this relationship.” He frowns into his now-empty cup. “I swear I had more coffee than this.”

“Here, I’ll take it.” I reach for the cup.

He pushes my hand back and stands up. “No, I’ll get it.” He adjusts the front of his robe and meanders to the kitchen.

I shake my head. Stubborn man. But I like that about him too, at least some of the time. He doesn’t waver or give in too easily like I do. I am trying to be more like that, more sure, more… unafraid. But it’s hard. I would like to please as many people as possible, but I have learned, unfortunately later in life, that even if I bleed to death for them, some people will never be satisfied. Luckily, I am no longer with those people and have the space to grow.

I settle into the couch and take small sips of coffee while I study the tree some more. The lights reflect in the colored glass of the ornaments, giving it a sparkle I hadn’t really noticed until now. Pearl really did do a lovely job considering the limits. I hope she enjoyed herself and that she remembers today pleasantly, even if it is somewhat spare.

“Sev,” Alex calls.

I turn my head. He’s standing on the threshold of the kitchen with a mischievous grin. About six inches above his head is something green. It’s mistletoe that was definitely not there last night when we went to bed.

“Did you just put that up?” I ask, trying and failing to hide my smile. He’s being bold today. Usually I’m the one who instigates affection. I put the cup and half-eaten cookie down and walk over to stand beneath it. “You know, I don’t generally let plants tell me what to do, but this time I will make an exception.”

The shy grin turns into a full smile – so rare for him – then wraps one arm around me. He is much taller than I am and much stronger, and every time I’m in his embrace it’s like everything bad in the world is kept out. “I want to tell you something,” he says.

“Hmm, is it that you love me?”

“I thought that went without saying.” He chuckles. “You know how I went into the city yesterday for errands? One of them was a meeting with a dime novel publisher.”

“You sold a book?” I exclaim.

He nods and blushes as if he’s embarrassed he’s finally gotten something else published.

“Caro, that’s amazing. The best Christmas present, truly.” I bring his face down to kiss him. He smiles through it.

“And, uh, one more thing. Close your eyes,” he whispers.

All my giddiness evaporates as I realize he’s trying to surprise me with a gift. “Oh, Alex, no. I thought we decided we weren’t going to exchange presents?”

“Close your eyes,” he repeats.

I sigh, but do it. It’s too late to protest now, anyway. His arm slips away from my back, and I can no longer feel his presence near my face. Then he takes my hand. I expect him to turn it over and place something in it, but instead he pulls it forward. …Forward and down? I open my eyes, and there he is kneeling in front of me. My heart jumps.

He shows me his other hand, which is empty. “I don’t actually have anything to give you yet,” he stammers. His cheeks and ears are flame-red now, and his eyes stare into mine. “And I won’t until the payment for the book comes through next month, but I didn’t want to wait anymore.” I can barely hear him over my heartbeat in my ears. He presses both hands around mine and takes a breath. “Sev, please, will you stay with me always?”

As if there was any chance of me saying no. “Of course, caro. You didn't even have to ask,” I answer, my voice unexpectedly cracking. “I was always yours from the minute I saw you. Now get back up here.”

I coax him back to his feet. His heart is hammering fast enough that I can feel it through his clothes. He smiles bright enough to outshine the tree by far and pulls me forward to kiss me. There’s no timidity about him now. He even lifts me off my feet for a second. It feels much longer, like I’m floating, like if he let me go I wouldn’t fall, but fly.

My feet touch the ground again, though I barely feel it. Alex stops kissing me, joyful tears running down his flushed face. I wipe them away with my thumb, and he relaxes, finally, at my touch. Eyes closed, he simply breathes and lets me trace his features.

“Ti amo, caro,” I say softly. “Sempre.”

He nods, eyes still closed. I don’t say anything else. He needs his own moment of peace.

Of course, nothing good ever lasts quite as long as you would like it to, and the quiet fades as Pearl cascades down the stairs once again. Alex opens his eyes and sighs, but the content smile is still there. Hopefully it will last at least the day.

Pearl scampers up and gives us a pleasant, curious look. Alex starts tensing again. We have not specifically hidden anything from her, but still we are usually much more guarded. I prepare to answer an awkward question.

She tilts her head slightly. “Where’s my cookie?” she demands.

A startled laugh escapes Alex’s lips.

“I left it on the table, gattina,” I say, relief settling my shoulders. “Do you think I would eat it on you?”

She narrows her eyes like she suspects I’m lying, then whips around to retrieve it. I turn back to Alex. He giggles when he sees me watching him, and I laugh with him.

“I think we’re going to be okay,” he says, the soft smile still curling on his lips.

It’s such a simple thing to say, certainly not what other people might think of as romantic or profound, but after all the hardships we have already endured and knowing many more are to come, just the idea that it might work out in the end is wonderfully comforting.

“Come,” I pat his arm as I slip past him into the kitchen. “We have to start breakfast.”

“I thought the cookies were breakfast?” He gives me a pleading look, almost as pitiful as Pearl’s.

I sigh, but don’t argue. It is, after all, only once a year, and there are many more to come.

#writing #short story #christmas #noir thing #writing sample

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