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scandalousfemale · 4 years

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Ch.1 End of the World As We Know It

Chinese!OC x Kelce

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Zombies were meant for apocalyptic movies and TV shows where one could binge watch for a day and return to their mundane life. But something happened, a lab test went wrong and suddenly the outbreak started. This story takes place exactly three weeks after zombies slowly started to take over the planet.

Series master list

WC: 3,445

Warnings: this is a zombie apocalypse fic, mentions of zombies, mentions of death, slight mention of ripping of flesh but not much, mentions of weapons!!! Knives!, mention of sewing up a wound, someone got sliced with a knife and needs to be sutured, mentions of fear

A/N: To every single person who has shown interest in this, thank you so much. Whether it’s because you were excited for a Kelce fic or you were excited for (finally) an Asian oc/face claim, just know that your support kept me writing this. I loved every second of writing this first chapter, it’s one of the first, in a while, that came really easily to me and I am so in love with the characters already. Again, thank you so much for your support and your feedback. You all keep me going. Now, please, jump into this AU with caution. Some might not make it out.

It is widely believed that right before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Kaili wondered, sitting in the empty and dark pharmacy by herself, if her cousin was granted that mercy. She can still hear the echoes of Wei’s piercing scream, forever haunted by the thought that maybe she could’ve done something to save her. But she couldn’t have. And there was no way that her death could’ve been peaceful enough to collect a couple of seconds to remind her of a life before this.

Hell, it was hard for Kaili to remember a life before this. The scattered news reports said that this outbreak had started about two or three weeks ago— she’s lost count, that there had been a mistake. The labs were trying to test out a new vaccine, one that could cure people of any potential virus that would have affected the human race and become the next pandemic, but something had gone wrong. Though she didn’t trust the reporters to tell the public much of the truth to begin with, the people have been saying that the virus had begun in New York, where scientists were trying to inject an gene editor into the bloodstream. It was supposed to make the recipient stronger and their immune system more durable for whatever that came their way. In a way, it did. When the first volunteer died, their body carried on living...lunging forward, biting, and passing on the mutant gene to anyone else who had gotten bit.

That brings us to the problem at hand and why Kaili was trying to silently mourn the loss of her family as her backpack full of first aids and snacks were flushed against the wall behind her. She had seen the news of the outbreak on her campus TV and gotten in the car, headed straight for her family. She was just hoping that they wouldn’t have been freaking out, seeing as it would be easy to panic when all they saw were images of people ripping each other’s face off and they don’t understand the language very well

Kaili is first generation American, stemming from Chinese immigrant parents. They worked so hard to make sure that she never had a want for anything that she truly needed but in doing so, they’ve neglected a lot of their own necessities. When she was smaller, she’d ask them for seconds and they would make sure that she’d be full, even if that meant that she ate their food. Of course, once she caught on, she’d stopped asking, even sometimes putting more on her parents plate than her own.

The feeling of her heart thumping fast in her chest when she saw her house lingered in her still. The anxiety never really rid itself from her. The images of her parents crouched on the front lawn, devouring her aunt and uncle in law still flashed in her head. She didn’t even have time to cry when her cousin, Wei, jumped into her car and told her that she heard it was safer if they started going down south. As long as they got away from the epicenter that is New York. Both girls didn’t have a chance to grieve their parents until they were out of Maryland and on the way to Florida.

Of course, they never made it that far. They’d spent a week holed up in an underground parking lot, just processing the information. Looking up the news until their phones ran out of battery. Some days the girls barely spoke to each other, they’d just share a knowing look, a touch that would let the other know that the pain was acknowledged but they wouldn’t speak much of it.

Then, when they started to slowly come out of grief and into self preservation, they started on their trip again. Which wasn’t exactly easy. Of course, cars needed gas and people— the living, needed food and sleep. So, even on their journey, they were forced to stop. Sometimes they’d meet others along the way, especially those who swarmed the grocery stores and took everything that their arms could carry but most times it still felt like a normal day. There were people who believed that it was just an isolated incident in an isolated state.

When they reached South Carolina though, it felt like a ghost town. They’d decided to go to a grocery store and usually they were good at their surroundings but maybe the town just felt too safe. Too...empty. Wei walked in without being careful and the flesh eating monsters heard the bell of the door. They’d swarmed her before she even got the chance to pull out her weapon.

Kaili didn’t like sleeping anymore because of that. She doesn’t even remember screaming at the sight but she must’ve because the attention was suddenly drawn on her. And so she ran to the closest empty shop she could find and she’s been stuck here for the past two days.

She’d cried. A lot. She cried so hard that she became tired but she wouldn’t allow herself to sleep, pulling energy drinks from the fridge from the drug store, not like it helped. It’s funny how trauma has a way of taking care of you against your own wishes. Her body had shut down on her and she fell asleep on her pharmacy’s floor. Even if only for a little bit, she woke up only to sob again, knowing that she wouldn’t exactly get far on her own and even if she did, she wouldn’t really know where she’d end up.

She had forced herself to stay hydrated and eat, even when she didn’t want to. Even when the look of some consistency of food made her vomit because it reminded her of the flesh that the monsters outside the doors would eat, she knew that she had to keep her energy up for when she was ready to make the move. Needless to say, she was scared. She’d never faced one of these creatures alone before but now, she figured it wouldn’t be as different as when Wei and her used to kill them together. She just doesn’t have anyone watching her back this time.

On the afternoon of the second day in hiding, the sound of glass shattering pulled her out of her self pity and planning. She had quickly crawled and hid behind a medicine cabinet, listening for who’d broken into her sanctuary.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think the entire Charleston has heard you, JJ, can you do that a bit louder?” An annoyed female voice hissed.

Great, Kaili thought to herself, I guess dying by the hands of humans might be better than being ripped to pieces. She’d run into other humans before, some nice and others not but in a deserted town like this where not even one car is in sight, she’d doubt that this group of people were all too friendly.

“Can you two just shut up and fill the bags?” A gruff male voice spoke before sounds of bottles rattling on top of each other filled the space.

While trying to pay attention to the noise and the people in front of her, she had forgotten to check behind her, used to having Wei be there. A rookie mistake.

“What do we have here?” A blond man spoke from behind her. He couldn’t have been older than nineteen years old, yet his cold eyes told a story only that of someone who’d seen too much can tell. Then again, she supposed they’ve all seen too much at this point.

Before she could even register his words and answer them, she’d pull the knife from the band on her thigh, instinct took over. The boy jolted backwards, knocking over the medicine shelf behind him.

“Whoa, there little lady,” the startled boy shifted his eyes around the room, relaxing when his friends came to stand by him. She was outnumbered and though one to three wasn’t that bad of a fight, she didn’t want to take the risk, especially after seeing the man stood by the blond. He towered all three of them.

“Are you alone?” The female spoke, a softness in her tone that Kaili hasn’t heard since the outbreak had started.

Instinct told her to lie but what was the point? So, she nodded once.

“Do you speak English?” The tall boy asked, which earned him a scowl from Kaili and a scoff from the girl next to him.

“She literally just responded to me when I spoke to her, what kind of a dumb ass question is that, Rafe?”

Okay, so the tall one was called Rafe, that means the blond had to be JJ, Kaili inspected them, eyeing their clothes and their weapons— or lack thereof.

“She’s just staring and I don’t know whether to be turned on or creeped out,” JJ said, caught in the middle of the two glaring at each other. A comedic relief, of course.

“I can speak English,” Kaili said, her voice coming off tense and dry. After all, she hadn’t used it in two days except to sob, and even then, she tried to cry in silence.

“Sorry, we’re so rude,” the female shook her head before she stepped forward as Kaili stepped back, not expecting the sudden movement, but the girl in front of her acted like she didn’t notice. Her smile was warm, her age probably mirroring that of the blond.

“My name’s Kiara,” her hand still outstretched as Kaili switched her blade to her other hand and took it cautiously, “this here is JJ,” she pointed to the blond as he flashed his canine at her in a smile that had a deadly edge to it.

“And that’s Rafe,” she pointed at the tall man who seems to be a little older than the rest of them, maybe a little bit closer to Kaili’s twenty-three.

“I’m Kaili.”

A beat passed, where no one moved or had said anything and Kaili strapped the blade back to the outside of her thigh, alongside the others.

It was as if the group had seen her for the first time and she wondered what that sight must’ve looked like to them because to her, it would seem like she’s a broken little girl playing dress up.

“Wait, you know how to fight?” JJ asked, not hiding the shock in his voice had he eyed her weapons.

“I know how to survive,” she shrugged. She had a small obsession with switchblades when she was younger, that had turned into a throwing knives obsession but when it came to shooting or fist fighting? She was at a loss.

They eyed her clothes. Black pants with a weapons belt wrapped around her hips and down her thighs. Her black long sleeve shirt was tucked neatly into the waistband. She looked like a mercenary and it was all thanks to Wei. The day of the zombie attack was Wei’s birthday and so she was stuck in her birthday dress for days before the younger girl made it a mission to raid an abandoned store for some new clothes. Something about how it’s not practical fighting in a skirt, no matter what comic book says. She used to laugh at the thought but thinking about it now hurts her.

“Do you know…” Kiara began to ask before Rafe put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head but she only gave him a desperate glance.

“No,” the boy pulled at her but JJ broke his grasp, standing in between them, as if he was protecting Kiara from a potential threat.

“Do you want him to die?” Kiara grit through her teeth from behind JJ.

“We don’t know her, do you want to die?” Rafe hissed back.

“We don’t exactly have a choice.”

And so they continued their whispered argument and Kaili pretended not to hang on to every word, when she'd heard enough, she had responded to the question that hadn’t been asked.

“I know first aid, well, a little more than first aid. My mom is a doctor,” a lump formed in her throat when she realized what she had said, “was a doctor,” she corrected herself.

“Then it’s settled,” Kiara spoke, “we will allow you to join our group if you can help our friend. He’s suffering from a knife wound to his abdomen, it’s deep. He’ll need stitches, maybe. I don’t know. We’ve been using cotton and tape for now but he’s losing blood and color and let's be honest, we don’t know anything about what kind of equipment or medicine we need. So, can you help us?” She said with a desperate tinge in her tone.

Kaili had never been so grateful in her life that she had suffered from wounds before from playing rough until her mother had gotten so upset that she’d learn to dress her own mistakes.

“Depending on how much blood he’s lost and if the wound is infected, I can help,” Kaili responded as she went around the pharmacy, getting everything that she thought she’d needed. After about five minutes, she’d met them at the front of the door with six plastic bags.

“In case someone else gets hurt,” was her explanation for the bags. JJ laughed, muttering something about liking her already as he took some bags off of her hands and they walked out of the shop.

Rafe stalked ahead of them, a gun in his hands, as Kiara fell in line with Kaili.

“Thank you, again for this. I know you don’t know us and you could have said no. So, even if that one,” she nodded at Rafe, “isn’t going to say it, just know that we are grateful.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I don’t even know if I can save your friend,” Kaili’s reply was short but not harsh, as she wasn’t trying to be rude. She just meant to be truthful.

Rounding the corner, a van came into sight. No scratch that, it can’t even be considered that, it was more like a tour bus.

“Topper and his theatrics,” Kiara explained, as if Kaili would know what a Topper is, when she saw the girl’s eyes widen, “Gretchen Wilson was having a concert when everything had gone down. I guess they all died or something because her bus was left behind, with a full tank of gas and water, I might add.”

Kaili just nodded, a loss for words as she followed them to the bus and then up the stairs to the inside of this luxury transportation. She couldn’t believe it. She took a quick glance around the space noting the kitchen, beds, tv, and bathroom but the most important thing she noted was that there were more people than the group who came and got her. She expected maybe one extra person, of course, the one who was hurt. Not six more people. Kiara had locked the door behind her and suddenly, Kaili was feeling a little bit less comfortable.

“I thought I told you not to pick up any strays,” a voice called from the driver’s seat. An older looking blond boy with blue eyes had faced her.

“Chill out, Top, she’s here to help,” Kiara defended her as JJ called out from somewhere in the bus, “and she can fight!”

That didn’t stop Topper from eyeing her once more before starting the car up again. Rafe had gone up front to Topper and another male, one who barely gave her a glance.

Finally, a boy appeared from the bathroom, looking disheveled and covered in sweat. Yes, she could see it now. He did lose a bit of blood.

Another boy, she later found out his name was Pope, had laid a towel on the floor for the injured boy, John B, to lay on top of. Introductions were rapid before JJ laid the bags on the floor next to her.

Kaili had put on gloves and when she lifted his shirt, she grimaced at the sight. Someone had decided to wrap duct tape on his wound and she prayed that there was a protective layer between the tape and the injury or else there was a risk that she’d open the wound and start the bleeding all over again if it hadn’t already stopped. Muttering a round of sorry’s she was able to breathe again when she saw that there was, in fact, a cloth in between and that his wound had already begun to clot.

After advising him to eat some food and take pain relief medicine, she began cleaning out the wound, in which John B had let out a whole plethora of curse words at the girl anyway and even more so when she started suturing the cut. She hadn’t noticed the audience that she had attracted, nor that the bus had stopped again, until she had finally wrapped a flexible gauze around his middle and pulled the gloves from her hand.

Putting all of her used equipment into a plastic cup, she then handed it over to a beaming and smiling Kiara who’d thrown it away for her. Then John B was quickly taken back to the end of the bus, to a bigger bed, by a girl named Sarah who’d thanked her endlessly.

—

After a nicer round of introductions, except for one, she found out that Rafe was actually related to Sarah and that they both had another sibling in this bus who’s name is Wheezie. She tried not to laugh at that. Sarah was dating John B, who were best friends with JJ, Kiara, and Pope. Pope knew a whole lot about dead bodies and he was always reading up on the news. Then there was Topper, who was the main driver, who was also friends with Rafe and the guy who liked to keep to himself mostly. Though Kiara did mention that the guy, Kelce, isn’t usually like this but that it was hard for him to see siblings who made it out together when he didn’t. Kaili didn’t ask for her to elaborate since it wasn’t Kiara’s pain to share.

She got all of that before they asked her if she wanted to use the shower, which she jumped at the chance to. She couldn’t help but feel a little sad though, that Wei wasn’t here to experience this with her. After a quick wash, rinse, cry, and repeat. She pulled her “I heart North Carolina” over sized T-shirt over the biker shorts she took from a store and willed herself out of the bathroom. Fighting the urge to crawl into her bunk and call it a night when a group of them asked her to join them for a movie night as Kiara fixed up dinner with Topper.

She looked around this group of people, crammed into a stolen bus and she wondered who they really were, what their story was. They didn’t seem like they’d be friends outside of this situation but honestly she didn’t want to ask and they weren’t very keen in sharing, not that she’d mind because she wasn’t jumping at the chance to talk about her life before this mess either.

“Hey,” the boy who didn’t pay her a single speck of attention all day, sat across the way from her. She’d only nodded to him as a response, unable to turn her gaze back to the DVD now that his was on hers. “I’m Kelce,” he offered his hand to her and unlike earlier, she took it immediately.

“Kaili,” she'd said softly but she was sure he’d already known that, if not for Sarah saying it in between her thank you’s, then because of JJ insisting he was the one who had brought her back for his friend. Speaking of which, JJ had strutted out of the bathroom, shaking his wet hair at both of them, causing them to unlock their hands and gaze from the other. She couldn’t help but laugh at his childish antics. He had dropped to the spot next to her and extended his arm over the edge of the seat behind them as he settled in to watch the movie. Though she tried to get back into the actors on the screen, she couldn’t help but notice that Kelce’s eyes kept coming back to her, like hers did for him. It was as if he wanted to say something to her or maybe he wasn’t comfortable with her intruding into his space.

No, she definitely didn’t know what she was getting into.

tags: @rafecameron @millyelliot @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @sortagaysortahigh @stfukie @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @outerbankslut @thegreatestofheck @starlightstarkey @stargazingstarkey @anxietyandtacos @spideymyluv @pogue-writings @bedazzledbanks @pankowrudeth @bricksatanakinswindow

#kelce outer banks #kelce fic #outer banks fic #outer banks au #LIAB

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1273

What was the longest time you’ve had the hiccups for? Maybe for half an hour? Mine are never that bad.

What type of TV shows are your favourite? Not a big TV show type of person to begin with since it seems as if my attention span wasn’t built for once-a-week, season-breaks kind of content haha. I do like sitcoms, I guess...bite-sized ones like Friends, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Big Bang Theory, etc. Drama shows I’d bite into if the plot is extremely intriguing to me or relevant to my interests, like The Crown or Breaking Bad.

Have you ever been a complete fangirl/fanboy over anything? I was before then I wasn’t for a very long time, then I came back just recently with this BTS shit I got myself into.

Do you know anyone who has died in battle? Hmm. I don’t think so. My great-grandpa lived a few more decades after the war.

When was the last time you went on an adventure? July. My friends and I spent the whole day driving around and stopping by sooo many spots around the metro. It was a lot of fun and we were fucking b e a t after.

What brand is your vacuum cleaner? I dunno. My mom mainly uses ours.

Are you good at rapping? I have a number of songs and verses memorized that I can recite quite okay, but I can’t write any of my own.

Name one world issue that upsets you. Racism.

How do you feel about tanning? I never saw the the big deal. I will say tanning beds and salons are such a culture shock to me, though. Are some people really that obsessed with modifying their skin tone?

Have you ever given a public speech? Hmm, just the one time I was entered into a public speaking competition and was given a topic to talk about on the spot. That was honestly a lot of fun and I wish there were more opportunities to do that exact same thing.

Do you read comic books? No. I tried getting into that whole thing, but didn’t see the appeal.

Do you force your way into conversations in which you are not involved? Not always but if I’m starting to feel left out or awkward, I will start to ask a question here and there to ease my way into the conversation. But if the topic is clearly none of my business then I do stay out of the way.

Kiss with your eyes open or closed? Closed.

Do you believe you can change someone? This isn’t a black and white matter, I think. The idea of changing a person can have a lot of layers; in my org, for instance, I got to pick up a few quirks and behaviors from my friends just by being around them for a long time – in that sense, I changed. But you can also strive to change someone who’s struggling and try to make them become happy, which I tried to do with my ex – which of course I learned the hard way that you can’t change someone if in that context.

How did you react when your first pet died? I was bummed out but didn’t throw a fit.

Have you ever drawn anime? No.

Can you use a pogo stick? I’ve never even seen one in real life. I’m dying to try it out just once.

When’s the next time you’ll see the person that you like? I don’t like anybodyyy.

Do you like bathing/showering? I mean...yes? Like I’m not obsessed with showering, but it’s a necessity that I have to regularly do anyway lmao.

Have you ever considered entering a race? Sure! Just give me a couple of weeks to practice because my endurance and stamina are embarrassing.

Rihanna or Lady Gaga? Rihanna.

Who was your first good kiss with? My ex.

What accessory do you want in your bedroom? SHELVES

What do you take the most pictures of? My experiences.

What are you always in the mood for? Starbuuuuuuckssssssss.

What is something that you never turn down? A day out with friends. I’ll always make time. What is something that you always turn down when offered? Food, if I’m a guest at someone else’s place.

Name something sexy about your significant other. I don’t have any.

What is one of your hobbies that you refuse to give up? Surveys, I guess. I enjoy them too much and have been doing them for nearly a decade.

If you could be a professional in any sport what would it be? Tennis.

If you could be a professional at any instrument what would it be? PIANO.

Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician? Surgeon. I would be too terrified seeing dead people, anyway.

Have you ever been on a subway? Nope.

Are you in love? No.

Do you like having your lip softly bitten when you’re kissing? Sure. Softly, roughly...both are fine hahaha.

Do you want to get married when you’re older? I hope so. I want my turn, too.

What was the last band shirt you wore? Eh, I don’t own any. I wore a fanmade V-themed shirt yesterday, if that counts.

You can have a milkshake right now. What flavor do you choose? OMGGGG that sounds so fucking good rn. Chocolate chip cookie dough.

Have you ever given someone flowers? Mhm, I used to give my ex bouquets whenever it was our anniversary.

What day of the week is usually your busiest day? Monday like 98% of the time, so I hate them. It ultimately varies, though. Sometimes some days are a hell of a lot more hectic than others.

Do you have any concerts coming up? I mean...obviously not.

Do you like or hate the smell of fish? Oh yessssssss. The smell of seafood/ocean always makes me fucking drool.

What’s your favorite brand of chips? Pringles, or this local brand of salted egg chips that I love to get.

Have you ever written a poem and then read it aloud? Yeah, once. We had to write a poem as our homework and my teacher picked out a couple that he thought were the best-written, and one of them was mine even though I still firmly believe I did a shit job.

Do you like pineapple? Oh god no. One of the worse fruits I’ve had.

Does your house have a dishwasher? No. It seems to be just a Western thing.

Do you know anyone who has a flower tattoo? I probably do, but I just can’t give you a lineup of names. Flower tattoos seem to be trendy these days, especially in the line style.

How many different languages can you say goodbye in? So I have goodbye, paalam, 안녕히 가세요, adios, auf wiedersehen, sayonara, au revoir...so that’s 7.

Agree or disagree: You like Adam Sandler movies. Ummmm definitely childish and I can feel that the humor tries so hard sometimes but I do enjoy some of his movies, like 50 First Dates.

Have you ever had to get a tooth pulled? If so, what for? Yeah, I mentioned this on a previous survey.

Have you ever dated anyone while they were in jail? No, I’ve never dated anyone who’s been imprisoned.

If you’ve ever babysat, do you like it? I ‘babysat,’ but technically all eldest Asian daughters are expected to look out for their younger siblings and cousins anyway. I didn’t actively enjoy it, but sure, it was fun playing with them and it’s always nice to be viewed as responsible.

What is your favorite flavor on sunflower seeds? I don’t eat sunflower seeds. I don’t dislike them, I just really never seek them out.

Do you get cold easily? Yes.

Do you get a lot of spiders in your house? Hmm no. If we do get visited they are almost always too small to be seen.

Do you admire nature? Yeah, I try to be around it as often as I can.

Name one naughty thing you’ve done. Had sex while a few people were in the same room. I pay for it now hahaha; those friends who had the misfortune to be in that situation have never let me live it down and it’s one of their go-to stories when I’m being introduced to new friends.

Name two of your favorite things as a child. I loved everything Bratz. I also liked Play-Doh.

Do you own a Pillow Pet? No, I’ve never even heard of that.

Do you tend to solve problems with violence? Never.

Have either of your parents gone to jail? Nope.

Do you know a hoarder? I heard my grandma had been one, but I didn’t see traces of it when I used to visit her. I guess she had been when she was younger and stronger. I show traces of hoarding too, but I don’t think it’s at a concerning level; I literally just threw out a bunch of shit in my room I’ve hoarded over the last five or so years.

Do you wax, pluck, or leave your eyebrows? I don’t touch them; I’m never all that worried about my appearance. On very rare instances, I will shave some of the excess hair off. Do you have any interesting scar stories? None of them are interesting tbh, just results of my own stupidity.

Do you hate the texture of meatballs? I don’t hate their texture but I also just don’t enjoy meatballs in general. I find them boring, which has always led me to think if they’re really supposed to be just boring clumps of meat or if I’ve just always been served average meatballs.

Do you get migraines? Yes, I usually get one after work. They’ve decreased in frequency now but one will drop by every now and then to give me a shit time.

Do you like guns? No.

Are turtles amazing creatures? All animals are. :') < Yes! Except cockroaches.

How much time do you spend taking surveys? I dedicate an hour or so every weekend. I often wish I can allot more time, but I also have other hobbies and interests I would usually want to catch up on during the weekends. 48 hours is just too short :(

Would you rather visit: The Eiffel Tower or Egyptian Pyramids? Pyramids, in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t even need to think about it.

Would you like to work at a candy shop? Uh no. If I had to, it would be on the back-end, maybe in the corporate side of things lol.

Do you have feelings for someone? Nope.

Which one of your guy friends is the best looking? JM.

Do you have anything to say to your ex bf/gf? No.

Which band do you have the most of on your iPod/music player? I don’t use music players anymore but my Spotify always reminds me of how much I listen to BTS whenever they do one of their quirky listening habit reports lol.

Which song describes your mood at the moment? I want to go with RM’s Bicycle just because I’m feeling quite content and relaxed at the moment.

Which movie(s) do you quote the most? Eh, I’m not a big movie quoter.

Which one of your best friend’s friends would you most likely date? I honestly don’t see any of them as date-able.

Would you ever let anybody else drive your car? Sure. I’ve let Hans and Gab drive it countless times when I’ve had too much to drink. It’s a small car and is fairly easy to use and navigate. I would let Anj use it too at some point, but I want her to perfect her u-turns first hahahaha.

Which one of your friends will be the most successful? It’s already one of my friends to begin with but I’m not naming names. They come from a privileged background to begin with and their godfather already handed one of his companies down to them, so. They were also told the CEO position is already a sure slot for them.

What store did you last shop at? I wanna say NCAT, this Korean-themed store that sells trinkets and jewelries and plushies and stuff. They also sell BTS albums so Anj and I dropped by to check out and touch all the albums we can’t afford yet HAHA

Do you think telepathy is real? No.

When did you last draw something for fun? Last Saturday when I played an online drawing/guessing game with my uncles and aunts.

Who makes the most in your entire family? My dad.

Do you like writing essays? I love essays, it’s my favorite writing piece to make.

Do you think plastic surgery is no big deal? It turns into one when it gets obsessive, like when people get excessive plastic surgeries specifically to look like another person. I’m looking at you, fucking Oli London.

Do you take your trash to the dump or have it picked up? It’s picked up.

When you sneeze do you sneeze into your shirt or your hands? I look away and just sneeze. Sometimes I’ll put up my elbow.

Do you usually have sex in the morning, noon or night time? Erm, I usually had it at night. I only had morning sex when we would spend the night; and I nearly never had noon sex.

Did you ever fail your learners/drivers test? No.

Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne? Gun to my head, Lil Wayne.

Name someone you’ve become a lot closer to recently: Reena!!! I’m so grateful Angela introduced us to each other :) We both tend to get shy so we don’t actually actively get chatty when we see each other irl, but I love her presence and I love that she is my friend. I make up for it by being super friendly and wacky in our group chat haha. Does your car have a sunroof? No. We used to have a car that did, but we had to sell that during the peak of the pandemic.

Are you closer to your mom or your dad? Dad.

Have you ever had a friend with benefits? No.

Who’s the last person you cuddled with? My ex.

Are you friends with any of your teachers on Facebook? Yeup.

#survey #surveys

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arrogvnces · 4 years

Text

he can never sleep on airplanes. not without the help of his mother’s sleeping pills, at least. for a two-hour flight, he thought it might be too much to bring them, but now he regrets it. on his left, his younger brother snores up a storm, his first-class seat transformed into a comfortable bed, which he covers with all his long, growing limbs. on his right, his sister mutters curse words to herself while angrily pressing the buttons on her nintendo switch. it’s only him, stuck in the middle, plagued by his own thoughts as the plane takes off into the sky, the sun having yet to rise.

they were forced into the earliest flight out of zurich, at his father’s orders. there’d been barely any time for greetings, after months of not seeing one another, before their chaperone promptly escorted them into the park family’s private jet, his sour face and trembling hands waiting for the worst. of course, there is nothing more humiliating than his parents still believing sinclair needs to be babysat, but a more rational part of him knows they are right. god knows how many times he ended up buying a completely different ticket, flying off to asia when he was supposed to head to south america. he just wishes he didn’t have to see them.

“fuckdammnitsonofabitch,” ren jumps up, discarding her console on the ground, bridging the space between their seats to join him on the larger couch, his flat-screen tv showing trailers of movies he won’t watch.

“what were you playing?” he asks, because he feels like she wants him to. her lips curl.

“animal crossing.”

he scoffs in amusement, earning himself a kick far stronger than he remembers her being able to give. which is another thing bothering him, beyond being called upon by his father like a dog, dropping every thing in his life to play at being the perfect nuclear family. when he first saw them at the airport, he barely recognized his siblings. they’ve grown taller, older. tristan’s five o’clock shadow might actually be a reality, rather than his desperate attempts to seem older than seventeen. as for his little sister, she looks more and more like the girls he goes to st. agathe’s with, her baby cheeks disappearing under the thick make-up. he’s missing it all, because they’d rather grow apart, than grow with leonard.

“i hate dining with royals,” she blurts out, head falling against the couch. “they’re so boring, god. if you pick up the wrong fork, you’re fucked up. if you speak out of turn, you’re fucked. i even had to dye my hair back because apparently being asian and blonde is an offense to the fucking prince of monaco.”

“you’re swearing a lot,” sinclair notes, frowning at the words that fly so easily out of her mouth. hypocrite, he thinks.

“i’m trying to get it out before we land. you know mom’s going to parade us around the whole day, like we’re the royal family blessing them with our presence.” unfortunately, he knows that all too well. leonard park and his family are royalty in their own way. he’s the richest man in the world. his wife is a genius, and his three children are examples for all well-behaved, elite children around the world. or at least, that’s what the press is paid to report on. god forbids anyone hears words of his father’s cruelty, or his wife’s depression, or the fact that his children see rules and regulations as mere suggestions to ignore, or worst, mock. sometimes, sinclair is certain leonard would rather have one of them die, instead of bringing him shame.

“she also told me to tell you not to sleep with princess alexandra, this time,” ren calmly says, as sinclair’s eyes widen at the horribly disgusting thought of his mother discussing his sex life with his younger sister.

“what---”

“she said you’d only listen if it came from this face.” at that, her hands form a ‘v’ around her cheeks, innocently looking up at him, as she often did when they were children and he’d be in charge of making sure she didn’t commit any damage to their guests’ house. he closes his eyes, turning away from her.

“i’m done talking to you.”

“wait,” she chuckles, tapping at his shoulder. he turns half-way, one eyebrow raised. “did she like it? did henrietta like the scarf?” he’d almost forgotten about it. not the scarf, that would be impossible. he’s spent far too many nights with that exact scarf haunting his fantasies, and all the things he’d promised to henri next time. rather, he’d forgotten his little sister was a tool in something he hopes she never gets involved in. she deserves a lot better than the theodores and sinclairs of the world.

“she did,” he replies, simply. he can tell she’s waiting for more, her eyes focused on him like a hawk, trying to pry him open. that’s always been her talent. to unnerve until explosion. “she wore it recently. it looked really pretty. thank you.”

she smiles, and he recognizes her a little bit more. it’s the chipped front tooth, that her parents have tried to get her to fix since she was ten. but like her older brothers, ren has never shied away from scars. “you’re welcome.”

at that, she turns away from him, focusing her eyes on the tv as an episode of riverdale begins to play. he groans, reaching for earpods, tuning out the world for the rest of the flight.

-----

by the time the day ends at the prince’s palace of monaco, sinclair is all but emotionally spent. endless hours of parading around monte carlo, pretending his mother hadn’t hired a paparazzi to catch them on their ‘totally normal and entirely functional family outing’ which consisted of whispered scoldings and diamond-white grins, and of course, the unpleasant climax as his father’s sudden presence ruined his first experience inside a formula one car. as far as family reunions go, this has been the quietest. and yet, he was unable to relax for even a single second.

“sinclair, fix your tie,” his mother orders, as the five of them walk in unison towards the royal ballroom, hosting their annual charity gala. he can already predict how the night will go. the prince will shake leonard for money, and his father will take as many pictures of the two as possible. look at him, donating millions to save endangered animals. who cares that his company is under investigation for human rights’ violations? sinclair holds back a sigh, fixing the black tie around his neck. restrictive. much like a leash.

they stop before the closed doors, the sound of violins and animated chatter behind it waiting patiently for their fashionably late arrival. late enough to catch everyone’s eyes, but not too late to offend a monarch. his father turns his imposing figure towards his children, a smile on his lips, but death in his eyes.

“what are the rules?” he asks, a military instructor’s voice replacing his media-built carefree persona. sinclair nearly spouts off a series of insults that always reside on the tip of his tongue in his father’s presence, but one look from emily seo is enough to keep him in place. pick your battles.

the three children recite his list of rules, voices becoming one, lips moving in perfect synch. perfect little soldiers, keeping the facade alive, hiding all their ugly behind leonard park’s promise of pain and suffering. always smile. don’t fight. don’t try to be smart. try to speak only when spoken to. sit straight. no playing games. no running around. but mostly, don’t embarrass your family.

he eyes them from head-to-toe, their outfits chosen by a hollywood star’s stylist, fit for a red carpet. not a single hair out of place, only real diamonds on their wrists, none of sinclair’s tattoos and earrings, or tristan’s highlighter pink hair to disturb the elite’s sight. perfect. so perfect, sinclair might just throw up before the night’s over. seemingly satisfied, leonard takes his wife’s hand, pushing open the ballroom doors, a world of light and glamour opening up to them.

“if we’re still here in three hours, i want you to push me off the balcony,” tristan whispers, as a smile begins to grow on his mouth, the crowd moving as one to greet the new arrival. sinclair imitates him, his facial muscles already protesting.

“not if i jump first,” he says, before diving head first.

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miss-nerdstiles · 3 years

Text

THE WEST WING #105 [5-17] The Supremes Full transcript Written by Deborah Cahn Directed by Jessica Yu. I do not own this in any way, nor do I get anything from the sharing of it.

(MONDAY)

(CROWD OUTSIDE)

DONNA: (on phone) Tommy at Justice. Covitz at Justice. Citizens For a Strong America. Archbishop Gaudio, Archbishop Rummel…

JOSH: What?!

DONNA: Rummel! Of New York. Man of God.

JOSH: I can't hear a damn... Excuse me please. Thank You. How are these people up so early?

DONNA: It's a Supreme Court seat. They had sign-painting parties the second Justice Brady dropped dead. Council sent a new list, said burn the old list.

JOSH: Listen to this. “They cavalierly sacrificed the unborn innocents and beckon, arms akimbo, the reaper, the horseman and the apocalyptic end. Akimbo is a word you wish got used more. There’s someone out there selling “Who Would Jesus Nominate” t-shirts.

DONNA: They’re in Leo’s. They just started.

(OUTSIDE LEO’S OFFICE)

JOSH: You want this?

DONNA: You don't like it?

JOSH: Not really. Sorry I'm late.

LEO: Dem Leadership is in with the President.

JOSH: They giving us more names?

LEO: I'm sure they are.

TOBY: I need the short list by the end of the week.

LEO: Your schedule. Your schedule. Mine. Keep 'em quick. You got 3 judges an hour.

C.J.: Who has Austin Girelli from Connecticut?

TOBY: Me.

C.J.: ACLU called about him. I don't think it'll be a problem, but ask him about that migrant workers thing he wrote.

JOSH: Why isn't Haskins on here?

LEO: Having an affair with his clerk.

MARGARET: Toby - Dubar on line two.

C.J.: Here’s Bernstein. And this is…

TOBY: [on phone] Senator? Yes, Senator. No we're not having a party over the death of a Supreme Court Justice. Well, not a big party.

JOSH: Evelyn Baker Lang?

LEO: Fourth circuit.

JOSH: Isn't she kind of a lefty?

LEO: Yeah

C.J.: Decoy duck. And don’t do it in your office. Do it someplace where the press can see her.

LEO: We want the left flank sufficiently mollified and the right flank sufficiently panicked so as to inspire a little conciliation on all flanks.

JOSH: Lang should do the trick.

TOBY: Put Fred Canterbury down on some list of people we’ll never consider.

C.J.: Baker Lang's just with Josh?

LEO: You want Toby too?

C.J.: It'll look more like we're taking her seriously.

LEO: Toby, Evelyn Baker Lang will be your 8:45 with Josh. Let's go, people. First one to find me a Supreme Court Justice gets a free corned beef sandwich.

(ROOSEVELT ROOM)

JOSH: Obviously we're impressed with your record.

TOBY: Your work on the 14th Amendment in particular is the stuff dreams are made of.

JOSH: But before anything else, we want to gauge your interest level. This will certainly be a lifestyle...

LANG: We can just chat

JOSH: I'm sorry?

LANG: I hear you really went to bat for Eric Hayden.

JOSH: I wish we could have gotten him confirmed.

TOBY: Judge Lang, if the President were to...

LANG: Is he still teaching?

JOSH: Eric? Yeah. Umm...again, if we...

LANG: A conservative anchor of the court has just died. A young brilliant thinker who brought the right out of the closet and championed a whole conservative revival. You cannot replace Owen Brady with a woman who overturned a parental consent law. You'd be shish-ka-bob'd and set aflame on the south lawn. Two reporters have... three reporters have walked by since we started. I'm window dressing. That's fine. I'm happy to help. But let's just chat about the weather.

(OUT IN THE HALL)

TOBY: Not bad.

JOSH: That's what we're talking about. Maybe we should put her on the short list.

TOBY: Yeah

JOSH: Okay, who's next? (Donna gives them folders)

TOBY: That’s his.

DONNA: This is…

JOSH: That’s a “no”.

ACT ONE

(DONNA’S DESK)

DONNA: Sign, please.

JOSH: You want to move it so I can see?

DONNA: Not really

JOSH: Why are we apologizing to Ashland?

DONNA: We sent him flowers. Condolence flowers.

JOSH: Condolences?

DONNA: For his death.

JOSH: He's alive.

DONNA: That's what he said.

JOSH: We sent flowers to the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court on the occasion of his death?

DONNA: They were supposed to go to Justice Brady's family.

JOSH: Get protocol on the phone.

DONNA: They didn't actually....

JOSH: We did this?!

DONNA: It was an honest mistake. Ashland's 80, he's knock knock knocking on ....

JOSH: Who put the order in?

RYAN: Hey guys!

JOSH: You sent a funeral bouquet to the family of the living breathing Chief Justice of the Supreme Court?

RYAN: No I sent them to the guy who died , Brady.

JOSH: No, actually you didn't.

RYAN: This is terrible. Umm... I really apologize. You know I am a nightmare with details. It's embarrassing. This stuff just leaks out of my head. We should leave the detail work to Donna. She's got the head for it. I'm more of a big picture kind of guy.

JOSH: She's here because she's invaluable. You're here because your uncle's so powerful I can't fire you. Big Picture.

LISA: Hi. Bad time?

JOSH: I'm on my way out.

LISA: Two minutes.

RYAN: Lisa, right? You work for the Judiciary Committee.

LISA: Staff Director.

RYAN: Ryan Pierce, we met at my office.

JOSH: Excuse us.

LISA: Is he the one who flipped the car in Nice?

JOSH: Yeah.

LISA: When do I see names for Brady's seat?

JOSH: Do you want to let the body cool?

LISA: You’re meeting with Barwald, Girelli, Evelyn Baker Lang.

JOSH: Here we go.

LISA: Whose acid trip is that?

JOSH: Just take a breath.

LISA: The committee’s not going to let the balance of the court hurl wildly to the left. You fill Brady's seat with...

JOSH: It's not Brady's seat.

LISA: It's not your Senate.

JOSH: We're just looking at the field.

LISA: Girelli has a fondness for Vicodin and Evelyn Lang is not an option. Save us all some time.

JOSH: We're some democrats over here. We're not going to nominate a born again elk hunter with a tattoo of the confederate flag on his ass.

LISA: Look at Arthur Lopez or Brad Shelton or Mayra Height. You go with Barwald or Lang and the Senate is going to make the next year of your life a living hell. I tell you this as a person who would be your friend if I was a person who looked for different things in friends.

JOSH: We should do this in more often.

LISA: As often as it takes.

(LEO’S OFFICE)

LEO: [on phone] We don't' hate Asians. No we don't. Justice Wong is more valuable to us where he is. Certainly. Thank you sir. [hangs up] Do a drive-by with Sebastian Cho, Massachusetts Supreme.

TOBY: Yeah. You were looking for me?

LEO: You hear about a congressional delegation to the Middle East?

TOBY: Next month.

LEO: It was Jordan and Egypt. Now they want to add Israel and do a day in the territories and meet with this shadow negotiation crew. State's iffy.

TOBY: As they should be. The Prime Minister is going to go through the roof.

LEO: Not to mention the Palestinian authority.

TOBY: I'll look into it.

LEO: Andy's leading the delegation. Is that going to be a...

TOBY: No. I'm on it.

JOSH: President's on his way. What's up?

TOBY: We hate Asians.

JOSH: Okay.

(OUTSIDE OVAL OFFICE)

DEBBIE: Ah Rina, how goes it?

RINA: These are today's. And Mr. Ziegler says that the President would want this before their 1:00.

DEBBIE: Oh here, you can put it in his hot little hands yourself.

RINA: Ah, this is for you, sir.

BARTLET: Thank you Lana.

RINA: Uh, thank you sir. (to Debbie) It…

DEBBIE: I hate to do this, but it's Rina, sir.

BARTLET: What?

DEBBIE: The girl in the dress with the flowers.

BARTLET: Just now?

DEBBIE: Yes.

BARTLET: What'd I call her?

DEBBIE: Lana.

BARTLET: Who's Lana?

DEBBIE: I'm guessing an exotic dancer from your spotty youth.

BARTLET: I should apologize. Get her back.

DEBBIE: You asked me yesterday how the schedule gets off the rails.

BARTLET: Yeah.

DEBBIE: This is how.

LEO: Good afternoon, Mr. President.

BARTLET: Hey, we make any friends?

JOSH: Maybe Zimmerly, Shelton.

TOBY: Mehldau.

JOSH: Lang was pretty impressive.

BARTLET: The gal from the 4th? Didn't she strike down some stuff?

JOSH: Parental consent for abortion.

BARTLET: Yeah, that's not going to happen.

LEO: She was a red flag to the bull.

JOSH: Well, it's working. Lisa Wolfe from the judiciary committee showed up today spewing all kinds of threats and admonitions.

LEO: About what?

TOBY: Three dems on the committee called, elated we were considering bold choices.

LEO: If the strategy's working, let's get her in again.

BARTLET: You like Shelton?

JOSH: Yeah. Moderate, insightful, gets it.

BARTLET: Let's meet him. Who else?

JOSH: Helen Waller. Beresford Bannett DC Circuit. Ellis Yaffe. Martha Zell. Uh.. Howard Kagen out of New York.

(TUESDAY)

(C.J.’S OFFICE)

TOBY: What are you doing?

C.J.: Nothing.

TOBY: What?

CAROL: She has a date.

C.J.: And she's getting fired.

TOBY: Evelyn Lang’s coming back in for another red herring performance, 3:00. You don't find that annoying?

C.J.: I'll have Carol march the Times by Lang at three.

TOBY: Brad Shelton's in with the President.

C.J.: We like him.

TOBY: Yeah, we do.

(OVAL OFFICE)

BARTLET: E. Bradford Shelton. What's the E for?

SHELTON: Elijah.

BARTLET: That's a burden.

SHELTON: Hence the E.

BARTLET: I hear good things about you from my staff. What did they miss?

SHELTON: My son burned you in effigy.

BARTLET: Did you watch?

SHELTON: I didn't. It was a campus demonstration against American presence in Saudi Arabia. There's a photo in his yearbook. Someone'll dig it up. I thought it would sound better in person than on paper.

BARTLET: I'm not sure it did. Did he burn anybody else?

SHELTON: No, just you.

(HALLWAY)

LANG: Well, I’ve missed you both.

JOSH: We appreciate this.

LANG: I keep running into Brad Shelton in the parking lot. Some say coincidence. I'm not so sure.

JOSH: You have been very patient.

LANG: Well I don't mind. But people wonder why the appellate system is so backed up. We shouldn't let them know this is how I spend my time.

TOBY: Well, if you were less appealing.

LANG: Same to you sir.

(OVAL OFFICE)

BARTLET: Affirmative action is going to be back in the next few years. Let's start there.

SHELTON: What do I know about it?

BARTLET: What do you think about it?

SHELTON: I don't know. Not the answer you were looking for?

BARTLET: Not really.

SHELTON: Unnerving isn't it?

BARTLET: Is there another topic you'd be more comfortable with?

SHELTON: Nothing comes to mind.

BARTLET: Perhaps you should make something up.

SHELTON: I'm not trying to be cagey, but I don't position myself on issues and I don't know what I think about a case until I hear it. There are moderates who are called that because they are not activists. And there are moderates who are called that because sometimes they wind up on the left and sometimes on the right.

BARTLET: You think I want someone who’s gonna vote with Ashland?

SHELTON: I think you are looking for somebody who will vote with him now and replace him later.

BARTLET: And that's not you?

SHELTON: Wish it were. He's a giant. But my allegiance to the eccentricities of a case will reliably outweigh my allegiance to any position you might wish I held.

(ROOSEVELT ROOM)

JOSH: Let's talk a little bit about what the judiciary committee's concerns would be. We can safely say reproductive rights are gonna come up.

TOBY: They're going to say judicial activism, particularly in drori. How would you address that?

LANG: And you're who?

TOBY: I'm sorry?

LANG: Who are you? We're playing committee.

JOSH: This will be coming from one of the 11 Republicans on there. Mitchell -

LANG: You can only be one.

JOSH: We don't need to -

LANG: If you're Webster, the question is 'Where do you stand on Roe v Wade?'. And the answer is 'Judicial ruling shouldn't be based on personal ideology, mine or anyone else's'. If you're Davies, the question is 'How would you approach a D&X case?' because he's the drum banger on partial birth. And the answer is 'I don't comment on hypotheticals'. If you're Malkin, you're from Virginia, so you ask about my decision in drori. I take you point by point from the doctor to the father to Casey to undue burden to equal protection back to Roe at which point you can't remember the question and I drink my water for a minute while you regroup.

JOSH: Will you excuse us for a second?

(OUT IN THE HALL)

JOSH: I love her. I love her mind. I love her shoes.

TOBY: We march her to five senator's offices and they'll be so scared they'll beg us to put Shelton on the court.

(ROOSEVELT ROOM)

JOSH: Sorry. You were vetted by the FBI when you hit the Federal bench, but if we re-opened an investigation....

LANG: I'm a shill, right? Why would you bother with a background check?

JOSH: Humor us.

TOBY: If there's anything that they didn't find...

LANG: Let's see, umm... in high school I snuck a copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover out of the public library and never returned it. In college I got a marijuana plant from my roommate as a birthday present. And in year two of law school I had an abortion. Can I get some water while you regroup?

ACT TWO

JOSH: Okay. Okay.

LANG: I tell you this so you'd be prepared. It might not come up, but if it did, I wouldn't comment.

JOSH: But if they know, it'll be hard.

LANG: Roe v Wade affords me the right to terminate a pregnancy and to do so, free from all restraint or interference of others.

JOSH: A hearing room....

LANG: I'm told I have a right to privacy. I think this would be the sort of thing it's referring to. I also bet like a drunken sailor during my bi-monthly games of Hearts. Do you wanna talk about that?

(C.J.’S OFFICE)

C.J.: An abortion?

TOBY: Of all the gin joints in all the world....

JOSH: Maybe they won't find it.

TOBY: Oh, they'll find it.

JOSH: Yeah, but who's going to bring it up? The committee, they'd look like monsters.

C.J.: They don't have to. Someone leaks it to the tabloid press, it's a feeding frenzy in 12 hours.

JOSH: She says she can handle it.

C.J.: Oh, okay.

TOBY: Well, we need her. She's the cautionary tale. Without her, we may not get Shelton.

C.J.: You been outside today? We don't hand someone to the madding crowd so they can take the heat off some guy from Indiana.

JOSH: The woman is - you should hear her.

C.J.: What? So she IS a serious candidate?

JOSH: She should be.

C.J.: She's going to be on posters under a headline that says 'Wanted for the murder of 15 million American children'.

JOSH: Let's think about this.

C.J.: Let it go.

JOSH: No. Really, nominees live or die by Roe v Wade. We're playing along with the ridiculous notion that the Supreme Court is a single issue body in a way it hasn't been since, I don't know what...

TOBY: Slavery.

JOSH: Exactly. So she had an abortion. Who the hell are we?

C.J.: You think I like this? You keep this up, somone's going to take this to the press and this bright woman's going to be a checkout counter spectacle. Get her out of the building.

(WEDNESDAY)

(OVAL OFFICE)

BARTLET: Brad Shelton could work for us. I like him.

LEO: So talk to him this afternoon. He's going to start getting calls.

BARTLET: Who else?

TOBY: Wisnewski’s a good maybe. The majority leader’s really pushing him. And Barkham from the 5th, though he has a question.

JOSH: It's a tax thing. We're looking into it.

BARTLET: You still having a love affair with Evelyn Lang?

JOSH: No. Uh, Robert Brant.

BARTLET: How come?

JOSH: She won't make through vetting.

BARTLET: Why not?

TOBY: She had an abortion.

JOSH: Robert Brandt’s on the 9th circuit state. Stan Yancy's worked with him and says he's always kept his cards -

BARTLET: When did she have an abortion?

JOSH: Law school.

BARTLET: Before or -

C.J.: After '73, it was legal.

BARTLET: We discarding anybody else for legal activities?

TOBY: Not yet.

BARTLET: Tonsillectomy? We down on surfing this year?

C.J.: She'd be publicly eviscerated.

BARTLET: 27 million women voted for me. I think they might had in mind that I was going to protect this particular right.

JOSH: We have plenty –

BARTLET: “I like that guy from Florida with the good hairdo, but I want to retain my right to choose, so I'm voting for what's-his-name, married to Abbey Bartlet.”

TOBY: Sir. They're going to make this about her objectivity.

BARTLET: We promised the committee a short list by Friday. I want her name on it.

LEO: Okay.

STAFF: Thank you, Mr. President. (EXEUNT)

BARTLET: That pisses me off.

LEO: Apparently.

BARTLET: We marched her around here all week. The honor of a place on the short list is the least we could do.

LEO: We’re still going with Brad Shelton? BARTLET: (nods)

(DONNA’S CUBICLE)

RYAN: Filling a seat on the Supremes…heady stuff.

DONNA: Don't call them that.

RYAN: My uncle calls them that. So does the minority leader. So does Henry Clark. You know him? He's on the court.

DONNA: You drop one more name and I'm going to staple your mouth shut.

RYAN: (chuckles)

JOSH: There’ll be hell to pay at Agincourt. I've offended the dauphin.

DONNA: Lisa Wolfe called twice. Senator Webster called regarding E. Lang. “What can you possibly be thinking?” Senator Milbank, regarding Lang. “NO NO NO NO NO.” Bertha McNull, “Not a snow ball's chance in...” oh, that's not about Lang. That's about the highways bill.

JOSH: I need a drink.

DONNA: Sun’s not over the yardarm.

JOSH: C.J.'s right.

DONNA: Usually. You want a Black Eyed Susan?

JOSH: Is that a drink?

DONNA: It's a cookie. My mom sent them.

JOSH: No -- Yes.

DONNA: Peanut butter with a chocolate kiss.

JOSH: They’re cat people? [holding up cookie tin]

DONNA: No they're not.

JOSH: These theirs?

DONNA: Shadrach and Meschach.

JOSH: Two cats, they’re cat people.

DONNA: For years they only had one, but he died over Christmas.

JOSH: This is a dry cookie.

DONNA: After what was deemed an appropriate mourning period, they went to get a new one. And my mother liked the abyssinian and my father liked the gray. And they claim that after 39 years of marriage, they’ve outgrown compromise, so they got both. It doesn't make them cat people. The house doesn't smell. Do I have crumbs?

(TOBY’S OFFICE)

JOSH: They pick one. They pick one! That's how we get Evie Lang. And not as a decoy. We put her on the court.

TOBY: Hi.

JOSH: The Chief Justice says he wouldn't step down because the President wouldn't be able to fill his seat with another liberal lion. She's the liberal lion. Ashland resigns, she takes his seat, okay? And we offer the Republican Senate Judiciary Committee the opportunity to hand-pick a conservative for Brady's seat. We put 'em both up.

TOBY: I’m ordering mu-shu. You want some?

JOSH: Listen to me.

TOBY: No.

JOSH: I'm serious.

TOBY: And then we got what, after we hand the Republicans a seat on the Supreme Court with a red bow on top?

JOSH: We have a balanced court. They can't let Brady's seat go to a liberal. So let them keep it. Meanwhile, we name the first female Chief Justice of the Supreme Court in the nation's history. I'm taking it to the President.

TOBY: No you're not. Do not go in there.

(HALLWAY)

JOSH: Trip him.

TOBY: Ashland is 82. We may have an opportunity to put two people on this bench. That's two seats we fill with Democrats.

JOSH: Moderates.

TOBY: What do you care how moderate they are? Two is twice as many as one.

(OUTSIDE OVAL OFFICE)

JOSH: Can I get in there?

DEBBIE: No, just a minute.

TOBY: We don't need him.

JOSH: Not moderate, mediocre.

TOBY: What, Shelton’s not bright enough for you?

JOSH: I want more than bright. If we had a bench full of moderates in ’54, 'Separate but Equal' would still be on the books, and this place would still have two sets of drinking fountains.

TOBY: Moderate means temperate. It means responsible. It means thoughtful.

JOSH: It means cautious. It means unimaginative.

TOBY: It means being more concerned about making decisions than making history.

DEBBIE: Indoor voices please.

JOSH: Is that really the biggest tragedy in the world? That we nominated somebody who made an impression instead of some second rate crowd pleaser?

TOBY: The ability to see tow sides of an argument is not the hallmark of an inferior intellect.

DEBBIE: Toby!

JOSH: What about the vast arenas of debate a moderate won't even address? A mind like Lang's?

DEBBIE: Josh!

JOSH: Let them pick a conservative with a mind like like Justice Brady had.

DEBBIE: Josh!

JOSH: You can hate his positions, but he was a visionary. He blew the whole thing open. He changed the whole argument.

DEBBIE: (sprays water in Josh’s face) The President will see you now.

BARTLET: And you?

TOBY: I think they're going to pick a young, spry, conservative ideologue who's going to camp out in that seat for 45 years.

JOSH: Fine. Two voices are articulating the debate at either end of the spectrum.

BARTLET: Filling another seat on the court may be the only lasting thing I do in this office. Shelton's a great choice. He'll make us proud. And if Ashland resigns in a year, we’ve got a stack of great options. We can't give it away.

JOSH: Mr. President, the first woman in that chair.

TOBY: We go out on some limb here and alienate the Senate, they'll tread water for three years, and we get nobody. The next guy gets to fill Brady's seat.

BARTLET: Take it to Ashland. See what he says.

TOBY: How’d you come up with it?

JOSH: What?

TOBY: The swap-a-dee-doo.

JOSH: There was.... Donna's mom... I thought it up in the shower.

(JUSTICE ASHLAND’S OFFICE)

ASHLAND: Who let them in?

TOBY: Sorry to disturb you, sir.

ASHLAND: Carrier pigeons. Oh -- your flowers. Yeah, we like them.

JOSH: I'm dreadfully sorry about that, sir.

ASHLAND: Oh for God's sake, let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings. Brady was your age. Eat your greens.

TOBY: He was a great man.

ASHLAND: He was a selfish bastard.

JOSH: You told the President you hope to be replaced by a liberal with the same level conviction that you brought to the chair.

ASHLAND: That sounds like something I'd say.

TOBY: Sir, are you familiar with Evelyn Baker Lang?

ASHLAND: Miss Lang. You've met with her?

JOSH: Yes sir.

ASHLAND: How are you going to get her past the pit bulls? They're not going to like the notion of Miss Lang in Owen Brady's seat.

JOSH: For your seat, if - if - you were to resign, she'd be Chief.

ASHLAND: My seat? What about Brady's?

TOBY: We'd allow the Judiciary Committee to choose someone. A conservative.

JOSH: Would you consider stepping down under those circumstances?

ASHLAND: Sure.

JOSH: We think it might be a viable option.

ASHLAND: Go ahead, see who they pick of their favorite sons. See what segregationist, anti-miscegenationist, Isaiah-quoting, gay-bashing bastard they come up with. Jed Bartlet from New Hampshire had an idea. Uh-oh.

ACT THREE

(THURSDAY, LISA WOLFE’S OFFICE)

LISA: No, I cut this because what he's implying is illegal. Take it back out. [to Josh] Three times in one week. In some cultures we'd be married.

JOSH: Chilling.

LISA: Is it Shelton?

JOSH: He's the front runner.

LISA: Good, are we done?

JOSH: Mind if I shut the door?

LISA: No.

JOSH: How are you doing?

LISA: Ah, super!

JOSH: Feeling good?

LISA: I got a meeting in 4 minutes.

JOSH: I'm going to float an idea here that even I can't believe I'm mentioning and my colleagues definitely can't believe I'm mentioning, and the President would probably prefer I drop completely and if I find it in the Washington Post tomorrow morning, I'll march straight out to the Press Room and tell them the idea came from you. It'll embarrass the crap out of your boss and you'll be on Hotjobs by nightfall.

[THE WHITE HOUSE. TOBY’S OFFICE]

TOBY: There's someone in my office.

RINA: I thought it was your ex-wife.

TOBY: You didn’t want to warn me about that?

RINA: You asked her to come in.

ANDREA: She's cute.

TOBY: Late some night, our eyes’ll meet over the maritime commission report. We'll be at the Justice of the Peace before dawn. You want to talk about this dog and pony show you're attending in Gaza?

ANDREA: Not really. Bradford Shelton.

TOBY: He's on the list. You're not going to Gaza.

ANDREA: I still don't want to talk about it.

TOBY: You're not attending peace talks with a bunch of Israelis and Palestinians who don't work for the Israeli or Palestinian governments.

ANDREA: They may generate some useful ideas.

TOBY: The ideas already exist. The problem is getting the recognized parties to stick to the plan.

ANDREA: So we sit with our hands folded?

TOBY: We asked them for democracy. We should maintain some scrap of respect for the guys who are democratically elected.

ANDREA: If you're really interested in peace, you negotiate with anyone. You negotiate with the mailman.

TOBY: Thanks for tee-ing that up. The mailman can't deliver.

ANDREA: We'll see.

TOBY: No, we won't see. You're jeopardizing this country's relationship with the Likud party and with the Palestinian authority, and it is not an option.

ANDREA: Is that all you've got? There’s no “and what about the kids?”

TOBY: Did something happen?

ANDREA: I'm going away for two weeks.

TOBY: Will they be...?

ANDREA: At my mothers...

TOBY: Good.

ANDREA: Would you have asked?

TOBY: I figured your mother’s, which is apparently....

ANDREA: You say you want to be involved. It doesn't come with an embossed invitation. You involve yourself or you don't.

TOBY: The President would like to remind you that this is a fact-finding mission. Please make it clear to any parties that you meet with that you are not empowered to negotiate for the United States.

[OUTSIDE C.J.’S OFFICE]

JOSH: Is she in there?

CAROL: Hang on. She's getting off.... [C.J. laughs loudly through the door] the phone.... [into speaker phone] you want Josh?

C.J.: Lord knows I do! Josh Lyman as I live and breathe! You want a cookie? They're from Donna's mother.

JOSH: I spoke to Lisa Wolfe.

C.J.: What did she say?

JOSH: I don't want to talk about it. I'm hiding from Toby.

C.J.: [giggles] Nothing. You're hiding. It's funny.

JOSH: It's not funny.

TOBY: Hey

C.J.: [laughs] see? It is.

JOSH: I gotta go.

TOBY: What's going on?

JOSH: C.J. has the giggles.

C.J.: It's your deal. I find it elating.

TOBY: She stoned?

C.J.: I'm fine. I just didn't get enough sleep.

JOSH: You were with Ranger Rick weren't you?

C.J.: Josh spoke to Lisa Wolfe.

TOBY: She give you a name?

JOSH: You are a faithless wench.

TOBY: What's the name?

JOSH: Christopher Mulready. Wait for it....

TOBY: Christopher MULREADY????!!!!

JOSH: There it is.

C.J.: He’s not the....

TOBY: American's Democrats - The triumphant of Socialism.

JOSH: He doesn't like the name.

TOBY: The man wrote a book that flushes the entire doctrine of un-enumerated rights down the -

C.J.: Toilet.

TOBY: …garbage disposal. No right to use a condom. No right to get an abortion, certainly. No protection from electronic searches. No substantive due process.

C.J.: He's what, 48?

JOSH: I know.

C.J.: The left's going to blow a gasket!

TOBY: No separation of church and state.

JOSH: We got problems on the right too. Kogan, Howard, Tondello. They can't vote for a Mulready. Their constituencies are too moderate.

TOBY: Get another name.

JOSH: That is the name.

TOBY: There are other....

JOSH: This is the deal. He's what Evelyn Lang is to them. We nominate the patron saint of a woman's right to choose for Chief Justice. We ask them to ignore an incredibly rich piece of her personal history. We take the name they give us.

TOBY: This isn't going to work.

JOSH: Yeah.

TOBY: It isn't.

[JOSH'S OFFICE]

TOBY: If --- if we were going to try this, what would be the plan?

JOSH: We give the President and Leo the name. We bring Christopher Mulready in. We bring Lang back in, hopefully the two of them woo the pants off the President. And he agrees to the deal without noticing he's standing in the gaze of history, pantless.

TOBY: I'll talk to him.

JOSH: You don't have to talk to him.

TOBY: You have been on about this. It sounds more plausible coming from me. What are you gonna do about the committee?

JOSH: Lisa Wolfe’s gonna take it to the Chairman.

TOBY: I mean the Democrats. I need to get Senator Pierce on board or you get nobody. What are you going to do about Pierce?

RYAN: (singing)'Won't you stay... just a little big longer... '

DONNA: Stop.

TOBY: I thought you were firing him?

JOSH: If wishing made it so. Donna! Send in Elvis.

RYAN: What's up?

JOSH: Come on in, take a load off. I was a little, ah, brusque with you before. I'm sorry about that.

RYAN: Okay.

JOSH Your feelings a little hurt?

RYAN: Not at all

JOSH: Really? Why not?

RYAN: Would this be easier if they were?

JOSH: I said I was going to fire you if it wasn't for....

RYAN: Are you? Firing me?

JOSH: No.

RYAN: Then there's a “sticks and stones” thing that comes to mind.

[OUTSIDE OVAL OFFICE]

TOBY: Finishing a call. I spoke to Andy.

LEO: Anything?

TOBY: No. The National Security Caucus is sponsoring the delegation. We could talk to them.

LEO: We'll deal with it next week. Don't worry about it.

TOBY: We got a name for Brady's seat.

LEO: Somebody workable?

DEBBIE: You can go in now.

LEO: Thank you.

(OVAL OFFICE)

BARTLET: MULREADY!

TOBY: That's the name.

BARTLET: No! Are you out of your bloody mind?

TOBY: Let's sit down and talk about this.

BARTLET: The last time I heard Christopher Mulready's name it was in conjunction with a treatise over the rights of incorporation, and some sort of baloney about the stranglehold the EPA has placed on the endangered species list…

ACT FOUR

(THURSDAY)

[DONNA’S CUBICLE]

JOSH: Ryan in here yet?

DONNA: Not yet.

CHARLIE: Chris Mulready?

JOSH: Yeah

CHARLIE: Dissented on minority set asides. Struck down hate crime legislation. Went after miranda rights. Feeling pretty good about that?

JOSH: It's not a perfect plan. I'm the first to admit.

CHARLIE: The President wants to reiterate, he’s not spending more than five minutes with this clown.

C.J.: The press room is clear. Carol is going to babysit the filing shop. But keep an eye out for roving reporters.

CHARLIE: You're in on this too?

JOSH: We got Lang coming in to meet the President at 7. Christopher Mulready is at 8. The press can't see him. We need a clear shot from the Roosevelt room to the Oval.

DONNA: He's on the short list?

JOSH: He is if she is. We may get both.

DONNA: Oh my god. You're putting my mother's cats on the Supreme Court.

C.J.: You're what?

JOSH: It's just an experiment. She’s on sentry. We’re good.

TOBY: Hi.

JOSH: Don't ever tell anyone that story.

TOBY: We all settled?

C.J.: Lefty’s got the goods. Rocko got the call. Stinky's on lookout.

DONNA Hey!

RYAN: Shall we?

JOSH: Your uncle’s here?

C.J.: Knock 'em dead. Pierce’ll never buy it, will he?

TOBY: Nope.

RYAN: Remember, he's all bark. Just let him holler and wear himself out. He's got the strength. You've got the endurance. Here. [hands over bottle of scotch]. Use it wisely and for God's sake, don't try to keep up. You're way out of your league.

JOSH: Not necessary. Thank you.

(MURAL ROOM)

SENATOR PIERCE: Good to see you, Josh.

JOSH: Senator Pierce, thank you so much for stopping in.

RYAN: Josh was pretty impressed with your floor speech on Tuesday.

PIERCE: Josh can kiss up all on his own. Get back to work.

RYAN: Yell if you need anything.

PIERCE: My nephew behaving?

JOSH: He's a… treat.

PIERCE: Well, he better be. Bugged me for two years to get him a job in this place.

JOSH: Really?

PIERCE: Watch yourself, he's a lean and hungry type. Have someone taste your food.

JOSH: Ryan?

PIERCE: So! Craziest rumor you ever heard running around the committee.

JOSH: Oh, yeah?

PIERCE: Charlie Felson says you want to put Chris Mulready on the Supreme Court. I said anybody who tries is going to find himself in a closed session with myself, the minority leader, and the business end of a two-by-four.

JOSH: You know, we got a 21year old Glenlivet knocking around here. Can I get you a drink?

[DEBBIE'S OFFICE]

C.J.: Lang still in there?

DEBBIE: Oh, she's a big hit.

C.J.: She has to leave. Her evil twin Skippy is on his way.

DEBBIE: I did our secret wrap-it-up sign, which is, I knock and say 'The deputy NSA needs to talk about Japan' and he said 'you talk to him, you've been there' which is true. But it makes me think he's forgotten it's a secret sign.

C.J.: How about "Excuse me Mr. President we need to move on"?

DEBBIE: If you want the job, you're going to have to work on your typing.

[ROOSEVELT ROOM]

TOBY: Apologies. He's running behind schedule.

MULREADY: I imagine that happens. You want to tell me what I'm doing here?

TOBY: Oh, just a hello.

MULREADY: I'm not being impeached?

TOBY: No.

MULREADY: This isn’t a not-particularly-subtle form of intimidation about the gays in the workplace case?

TOBY: That would be illegal.

MULREADY: My point exactly.

TOBY: The President will explain....any minute now.

MULREADY: Hm.

TOBY: But since you mention it, I read your article on Bellington, and I may be out on the fringe here, but I - I don't see how a family values conservative justifies denying committed couples access to the benefits of state sanctioned monogamy.

MULREADY: Homosexual couples.

TOBY: Couples. A couple is a couple.

[C.J.'S OFFICE]

JOSH: Hi.

C.J.: How was Ryan's uncle?

JOSH: He's a blast. Come meet him.

C.J.: He's still here? Oh my God! You're drunk!

JOSH: I think I just promised him a pork barrel roads project on an omnibus bill that doesn't exist. Don't try and keep up. He's got a wooden – a hollow leg. He drinks a lot.

[ROOSEVELT ROOM]

TOBY: It's an equal protection violation.

MULREADY: Homosexuals are not a suspect class.

TOBY: D.O.M.A. denies access.

MULREADY: No.

TOBY: To over 1,000 federal protections.

MULREADY: To what?

TOBY: Survivor benefits under Social Security.

MULREADY: $255.00? I'll write you a check.

TOBY: Hospital decision making.

MULREADY: So talk about power of attorney, not marriage. Besides, the fact that D.O.M.A. doesn't restrict access to marriage.

TOBY: Of course it restricts access. It restricts full faith and credit.

MULREADY: So, Vermont gets to steer nationwide marriage legislation? Vermont?

LANG: Well, this is a sight to see! One of the more unlikely meetings in the history of the Bartlet White House.

MULREADY: It's good to see you, Evie.

LANG: You too, Chris. I came to say goodbye. I wish I had a camera.

MULREADY: Mr. Ziegler was trying to convince me that the Defense of Marriage Act is unconstitutional.

LANG: Oh, D.O.M.A.? He was trying to convince you?

TOBY: What?

LANG: He doesn't need convincing.

TOBY: I wasn't doing it because...

LANG: He was yanking your chain. He would never uphold D.O.M.A. He may not love the idea of gay marriage, but he hates congressional overreaching, and Congress doesn't have the power to legislate marriage. The issue isn't privacy.

MULREADY: Or equal protection.

LANG: It's enumerated powers. He'll have an easier time knocking down D.O.M.A. than I will.

MULREADY: Lack of imagination on your part, if I may be so bold.

TOBY: You were yanking my chain?

MULREADY: You called me in for a meeting with a Democratic president in the middle of the night. Are you really going to give me crap about yanking your chain?

LANG: Josh Lyman is gesticulating wildly.

TOBY: Excuse me.

[HALLWAY]

TOBY: Where's the Senator?

JOSH: He's in with C.J.. He got me a little drunk.

TOBY: Is he leaving?

JOSH: I think he's getting C.J. a little drunk. How's it going?

TOBY: He's striking down gay marriage bans and she's defending him and they're as thick as thieves and he's a fan of chain yanking.

JOSH: She's defending him?

TOBY: Down is down, down is up.

LANG: I am not... no I am not rewriting Article 1. What I am saying is that a gun free school zone...

MULREADY: Is not a federal issue. In Lopez…

LANG: Lopez overturned 50 years of precedent.

MULREADY: Too bad, they ruled a plain text reading of the commerce clause, does not afford Congress...

LANG: A plain text reading of the Constitution values a “negro” at three-fifths of a man.

MULREADY: Hence the 13th, 14th and 15th Amendments.

LANG: Oh, generous. Thank you.

MULREADY: The relationship between guns and schools and interstate commerce is... is...

LANG: You don't think that the quality of education has a direct affect on the economic...

[DEBBIE'S OFFICE]

TOBY: Is he?

DEBBIE: Waiting to meet a man you're holding hostage in the Roosevelt room.

(MURAL ROOM)

C.J. AND PIERCE: Oh and while the king was looking down, the jester stole his thorny crown, the courtroom was adjourned, no verdict was returned…

JOSH: Ok... ok.... Everyone needs to put down their glasses and pay attention.

[OVAL OFFICE]

BARTLET: You like him.

TOBY: I hate him. I hate him, but he's brilliant. And the two of the them together, they’re fighting like cats and dogs, but it works.

[MURAL ROOM]

PIERCE: You couldn't find a single warm-blooded centrist to put on the court?

JOSH: We've got centrists. We've got six of them plus two staunch conservatives plus Justice Ashland. The one clarion voice articulating a liberal vision. He's going to go and then what?

[OVAL OFFICE]

BARTLET: Well, send him in....

TOBY: Sir…

BARTLET: I said I'll listen to him, Toby. That's going to have to do it.

[HALLWAY]

DONNA: Toby.

TOBY: What?

DONNA: Nothing's happening.

TOBY: Hang on.

DONNA: That's him?

TOBY: Yeah.

DONNA: No tail. No cloven hooves.

[OVAL OFFICE]

DEBBIE: Judge Mulready.

BARTLET: Thanks for coming in.

MULREADY: It's an honor sir.

BARTLET: Please. I understand that you and Judge Lang had a bit of a knock-down-drag-out.

MULREADY: She wants to federalize law enforcement.

BARTLET: Yeah.

MULREADY: I thought it was hasty.

BARTLET: Not your brand of judge?

MULREADY: Quite the opposite. I haven't had that much fun in months.

BARTLET: Really?

MULREADY: Use her, if you can. I'm not sure what all this is about. I suppose a number of people are placated by a glimpse of someone like her or someone like me in these halls. I'm most certainly here for that. But if there’s anyway that you can use her…

BARTLET: It's unlikely.

MULREADY: Who's at the top of the list? ... If I leaked it, would they believe me?

BARTLET: Brad Shelton.

MULREADY: Really?

BARTLET: You don't like him?

MULREADY: He's a fine jurist. And in the event that Carmine, Lafayette, Hoyt, Clarke and Brannaghan all drop dead, the center will still be well tended.

BARTLET: You want another Brady?

MULREADY: Sure, just like you'd like another Ashland - who wouldn't? The court was at its best when Brady was fighting Ashland.

BARTLET: Plenty of good law written by the voices of moderation.

MULREADY: Who writes the extraordinary dissent? The one man minority opinion whose time hasn't come, but 20 years later some circuit court clerk digs it up at three in the morning. Brennan railing against censorship. Harlan's Jeremiad on Jim Crowe.

BARTLET: Maybe you, some day?

MULREADY: They can't put me on the court, just like you can't put Evelyn Lang on the court. It's Sheltons from here on in.

BARTLET: There are 4,000 protestors outside this building worried about who's going to land in that seat. We can't afford to alienate all of them. MULREADY: We all have our roles to play sir. Yours is to nominate someone who doesn't alienate people.

(FRIDAY)

(PRESS ROOM)

JOSH: Where's Toby?

C.J.: Can you see this? [pointing to spot on her blouse]

JOSH: Yeah.

C.J.: It's water, it'll dry.

JOSH: Okay.

TOBY: Ready?

[on the TV in background...]

REPORTER ... have gathered around..... Ashland having served 32 years on the United States Supreme Court, 12 of them as Chief will officially announce his retirement in just a moment.

ASHLAND: (at podium, on TV) Henry Staub retired, and I received a phone call, you were probably learning to walk. It's been an honor to pause in Henry Staub's chair, a joy to spend...

C.J.: (to Bartlet) He’ll take three questions at the most, and then we’re off .

LANG:[to Lang] you ready? [Lang is engrossed in Ashland's announcement] [To C.J.] That's a yes.

MULREADY: So, why a racial preference and not an economic one?

CHARLIE: Because affirmative action’s about a legacy of racial oppression.

MULREADY: It’s about compromising admissions standards.

CHARLIE: That's bull….excuse me. It's about leveling the playing field after 300 years of…

MULREADY: See, this is where the liberal argument goes off the rails. You get stuck in the past. Now you wanna comeback at me with grading is based on past performance, but admission should be based on potential on how a candidate may thrive with this sort of opportunity. And studies show that affirmative action admits have a higher predisposition to contribute to society.

CHARLIE: Hang on, I gotta write this down.

BARTLET: Ah-ah-ah. Hand it over. [to Evelyn] Toby has a daughter, Molly, 10 months old. She's a looker and very bright. And someday he'd like to give her this copy of the 14th Amendment signed by the first woman to ever hold this job.

LANG: Have you got a...

TOBY: Oh... [hands her a pen] Would you mind adding that title?

LANG: That's a bit premature, isn't it?

BARTLET: No.

TOBY: Thank you.

C.J.: Mr. President.

BARTLET: Shall we? [at the podium]

C.J.: Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States.

BARTLET: The honorable Christopher Mulready, nominee for Associate Justice - United States Supreme Court. The honorable Evelyn Baker Lang, nominee for Chief Justice - United States Supreme Court. I look forward to taking your questions.

THE END

#The West Wing #the supremes #west wing supremes #west wing transcript #west wing script #evelyn baker lang #president bartlet #i love her mind i love her shoes

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slayergroupie0128 · 4 years

Text

- AN: Ok guys!! I haven't written anything in a super long time, but this is an idea I've had for awhile and I wanted to bring it to life. It's been a long time since I wrote anything, so NO JUDGEMENT. Lol. Legit just typing this up on my phone though, so we'll see how it goes.

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YOU 12:15PM: Mother!! I'm coming over to hang out with the dogs!! Just a heads up!

MOM 12:25PM: Okay. How long will you be over?

YOU 12:26PM: Idk. At least till you and dad get back home.

MOM 12:32PM: Can you do me a favor and make that box of brownies in the pantry? We have new neighbors and I haven't had time to take them anything.

YOU 12:34PM: Ooooooohhh, new neighbors? How exciting.

YOU 12:35PM: Yeah, I'll make them and take them over too if you want. No lie, I'm curious about these new people.

MOM 12:37PM: Please and thank you!! I want a full report on them though! Lol.

YOU 12:39PM: Yes, boss!!

With a smile, you put your car in drive and headed across town to your parent's house. It had been awhile since you'd been over and you were dying to see their dogs again. Your mom was a dog breeder, so she had six dogs at her house. You always gave your mom and dad grief for having so many dogs, but you loved them all so much.

When you got to the house, you noticed three strange cars next door. "Huh," you thought to yourself as you pulled in. "Wonder how many people moved in."

Walking inside, you could hear the dogs begin to whine in their kennels. Once you let them out, you were mobbed by six eager fluffballs, all competing for your affection. "Okay guys, let's go outside!" They bolted out the back door, racing around the small yard to burn off their energy. You watched them for a minute before going back inside to start the brownies.

"Hazel," you called, snapping your fingers to call her to you. "Wanna go next door with sister? Let's go give these new neighbors some yummy brownies hmmm?" Your ever loyal favorite trotted after you as you walked the still warm pan of brownies next door. Even though you loved all your mom's dogs, Hazel and you had a special bond. You were also the only one in the family who could walk her off leash.

As you approached the door you snapped to call Hazel's attention back to you. You saw the squirrel too, and knew she'd chase after it if you didn't distract her. "Hazel, come. Sit," you commanded. Hazel sat, looking up at you as you rang the doorbell, as if she had never seen anything. You heard a crash and shouting, making you giggle. While the bubbles windows didn't give you a clear view inside, you could see several shapes and figured there must be at least five people inside.

The door opened a crack, and a sleepy Asian man looked at you suspiciously. You couldn't really see much of his face since he was wearing a face mask, but he looked to be about your age. You gave him a winning smile as you bowed a little bit. You knew in most Asian cultures they bowed instead of shaking hands, and you didn't want to seem rude.

"Hello! My parents live next door and my mom had me bake some brownies to welcome the new neighbors." Your voice was cheerful but polite as you held out the pan of brownies to the shocked man. His eyebrows disappeared up into his hairline and he stared at you for a long moment. Right when your smile began to falter, Hazel whined next to you and you looked down, your eyes crinkling as you grinned at her. You knew she wanted to say hello, but it looked like the new neighbor was still in shock.

When Hazel whined, the man shook his head as if clearing the fog that took over him when you showed up. "Um, thank you," he said softly, taking the brownies from you. "You didn't have to do that." You tilted your head slightly at the sound of his familiar voice. You couldn't quite place it. "No no, if I didn't do it, my mom would have. We do it every time someone new comes to the street," you replied as you patted Hazel's head to calm her down. "If you ever need anything, here's my and my parent's phone numbers. Just shoot one of us a text or give us a call, and we'll be happy to help you out. I know things break a lot with these old houses, and my dad can fix just about anything. I live an hour away, but if you can't reach Mom or Dad give me a call. I always answer."

He nodded awkwardly and looked behind him, presumably at the other people in the house. "She brought brownies and phone numbers in case we need something." "Well ask her in, dummy. We should be polite." You raised one eyebrow, recognizing the Korean words easily. He turned back to you, and opened the door wider. "W-would you like to come in?" He asked shyly. You beamed, your eyes scrunched up in a way he found totally endearing. "Thank you!"

The man opened the door wider to let you and Hazel walk in. As soon as you stepped in the door, you looked up and froze. "Holy shit," you muttered, barely audible. In front of you stood BTS, your favorite Korean boy band. Hazel, not caring that you were frozen in place, trotted in, sniffing the air. Taehyung, who was the one who opened the door, immediately removed his mask and dropped to his knees to greet Hazel, who licked his hand in greeting.

The sight of her being so friendly with them brought you back to reality as you bowed at a 90 degree angle. "Wow, I can't believe you guys are actually here," you said in a whisper, your face flushed as you looked around at them. They looked alarmed at your recognition, and you shook your head quickly. "No, don't worry, I won't say anything. I'll only tell my parents because they'll recognize you eventually. I'm y/n and this is Hazel." The seven guys all bowed to you and you smiled.

Namjoon stepped forward to shake your hand. "It's nice to meet you, Y/N. Sorry for the weird reception. We just didn't expect to meet a fan so soon." Your grin turned into a smirk. "Then I guess it's my lucky day."

#bts #bts imagines

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flying-elliska · 5 years

Text

HS Reunion AU pt. 3/?

Heyyy I know we thrive on pain here ^^ but if you want a break maybe for a minute, here’s some more incredibly wish-fulfill-y fluff. They’re all thriving adults (for the most part), the reunion starts and Daphne has a surprise !

SAMEDI 17:44

The day of the reunion dawns bright and sunny. They’ve just spent a lazy morning in bed, enjoying each other, only getting up after noon. Lucas promised his husband that this time would be for them, so he kept his itching fingers away from any keyboards or screens. Eliott made crepes with melted chocolate, deliciously decadent. They curled up together on their big couch, read, watched a weird documentary about deminer rats, and rearranged their utility closet. Lucas's still surprised about all the things they’d managed to lose in there, including four different brooms, one of Eliott’s best lenses hidden in an empty cereal box (why), a bag of onions that had taken on a life of their own, and an album of honeymoon photos they’d completely forgotten existed, maybe because it was the one where they both sported completely sunburnt noses after going off trail for a week in Nepal and looked like a pair of molting lobsters.

The reunion is at 18. They will be having dinner in the old foyer, before going to party on a rented boat on the Seine. Lucas parks the car a few blocks away. He really wants them to have a little time to breathe and enjoy the sun before the madness starts.

It's a gorgeous early summer day, with a little breeze deflecting the heat and sunlight glittering on the water. It’s incredibly thrilling still for some reason, walking hand in hand with his husband along the Canal St Martin, this close to their old school.

Eliott can’t stop grinning at him either. He looks like a vision in his tight black turtleneck, camel longcoat swung over his shoulder, hair as wild as ever. His eyes are intense and full on mischievous, in a way that really does something to Lucas’ underbelly feelings.

“Hey, so...things are heating up between you and that girl Chloe, huh ?”

Lucas rolls his eyes. Of course he would go there, the asshole.

“Yeah, she’s incredible. Woman of my life. Might ask her to marry me in the fall. I always wanted a honeymoon in Bali”

“Bali, hm ? That’s cute. Are you sure she’s the one, though ?”

“Yes absolutely. She ticks all my boxes ! I mean, she’s such a ...female woman ! She even has breasts and everything ! I think. It’s amazing. Everything I need right there.”

Eliott laughs out loud. Lucas loves that sound more than anything else in the world, and the fact that they can joke easy now about their earlier jealousies and mistakes feels very healing.

“Love at first sight, then.”

“Oh you know how it is, girl bumps into boy once, it must be true love.”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“Are you talking about yourself now ?”

Eliott raises his eyebrows in a way that makes Lucas blush, then stops and pulls him closer, until their noses almost touch.

“I don’t know, do you have any boxes left for me to tick ? Or are you all ticked out ? Are you sure your boxes are being ticked appropriately ?”

“Oh, okay, we’re playing it like that, dirty talk in the street ? I don’t remember that part.”

“Why don’t we make up for lost time ?”

“Wait, don’t you have an imaginary girlfriend, too ?”

“Nah. I’m not even playing at that.”

“Well then, you can tick my boxes anytime.”

Eliott smiles and wraps his arms around Lucas’ head, drawing him into a passionate kiss, unhurried and slow, that tastes like minty toothpaste and cigarettes. They have all the time in the world. Lucas thinks of his teenage self, who’d yearned for this so fervently even as the idea of holding another man’s hand in the street terrified him, and he kind of wants to do a victory dance on the spot.

A few seconds or maybe minutes later, someone coughs loudly next to them. History repeats, apparently, but thankfully with better timing.

“Well, I see you two are still as disgustingly in love as ever.”

Emma is standing in front of them, an amused expression on her face. She looks good, if a little jet lagged - hair in a pixie cut, tanned, bag slung over her shoulder, looking as carefree and adventurous as ever. Lucas moves to hug her as if they’d last seen each other last week.

“Glad to see you made it.”

“Daphne would have reached across two entire oceans to kick my ass if I didn’t. And you know, I figured my family might like to see me, accessorily. And you, still can’t get you past the Périphérique, I see ?”

“That’s a gross overexaggeration. We toured half the world for our honeymoon.”

“And let me guess, you’ve been shackled to your desks ever since ? Well, at least you’re rocking the “just rose from my coffin” look together.”

“Oh, sorry, not all of us want to look like Australian beef jerky.”

They fall easily into bickering the rest of the way, insulting each other in a friendly manner. It really is like old times. The place hasn’t changed much, except for a lot more vegetation in the courtyard. Seeing it evokes a tangled knot of complicated feelings in him. They haven’t been back since graduation, really. When they’ve reached the gate, Eliott holds Lucas back for a moment, taking both his hands. Lucas can feel his husband is nervous.

“You know, say the magic word and we’re out of there in a second, okay ?”

Eliott leans forward muffles his laugh in Lucas’ collar.

“How is this worse than Cannes, seriously ?"

"I almost wish there were paparazzi now, as distraction."

"Let's pretend there are and put our game faces on, then."

Eliott laughs again and ruffles through Lucas' hair, who protests but lets him do it. He always does.

From across the courtyard, he sees Manon come toward them.

She looks better than the last time he saw her, when she was fresh from her breakup with some hotshot war reporter. He loves this woman, truly, that's his sister right there, but god he wishes for her own sake she’d grow out of her taste for passionate, moody assholes. And it's not the first time, nor the last, he feels he will have to help her pick up the pieces. But that's okay. She's always been there in his most difficult times.

And now she's there, standing tall, wrapped in a designer coat, rocking her signature red lipstick even though there are bags under her eyes and he knows this is the look she wears when she's pretending to be okay. He realizes then one of his goals tonight will be to make sure nobody bothers her about her love life. She's an amazingly accomplished woman. That's all anybody needs to know.

Eliott gives her an extra long hug. Those are the best thing in the world, and his husband has always been intuitive about these things. Good.

Together, they move towards the foyer.

Their old haunt is completely gone - the mural, their ratty old couch, all the things they'd painstakingly gathered together. The space has been merged with another room and is twice as large. Then again, it makes it possible to fit in enough tables, which might not have been possible back then. Their old beat down furniture has been cleared to make room for lush greenery and designer sofas, uncannily clean for a high school. It's been lavishly decorated too, with a banner, pastel streamers and golden balloons. In front of the window there is a buffet full of all sorts of drinks, salads and cakes. It's definitely too much for this type of occasion but then again. Daphne.

When they enter the room, heads turn, and the gazes aimed their way are a bit too curious and insistent for his taste. Well, they did end up being one of the most dramatic squads in their year, in the end, it was to be expected but...It’d better be admiration for his on-his-way to famous husband, and nothing else, because if he’s grown out of one thing, it’s suffering fools. He feels both Eliott and Manon’s grip on his arms tighten.

A very enthusiastic Daphne appears out of thin air in front of them, as if on wheels. She looks like she stepped out of the pages of a magazine, baby blue dress, hair carefully plaited with little glass flowers, as peppy as ever. She welcomes them, kisses all of their cheeks and then directs them to their table, where they find little calligraphied tags to their names in the plates, before storming off again.

Their table is already half-full. Arthur is there, in a crisp suit, accompanied by a posh, bored looking brunette. He is pointedly not talking to Basile, sitting next to him. Lucas sighs internally. He'd really hoped that was over. Basile is accompanied by a vaguely bird-faced woman, who is wearing the exact same disastrous color scheme as him, brown and bright green and red. And then there's Imane, looking impeccable in her deep red scarf and elegant black dress, and her husband Yousef, in deep conversation. Finally, to round it off, there's two random people Lucas already feels sorry for.

They all greet each other. It's a little awkward. He's happy seeing Imane and Yousef though. It's been a while, what with their little daughter and Imane's company getting off the ground and his own crazy schedule.

Lucas gets a text from Yann saying he's going to be late. Basile launches into an explanation of his latest crowdfunding project, something about an app and cryptocurrency that barely registers. The room slowly fills up. Arthur talks about his family company's ventures into the South Asian market. Lucas slowly starts feeling like he wants to jump into the Seine. He didn't come here to witness how boring his friends have become and how adulthood is descending on them to make them into pre-mummified copies of their parents. He thinks he'd almost rather go back to hear college age Basile brag about all his conquests in graphic detail. Almost. And he can feel his husband tensing up next to him; he knows how much Eliott hates speaking about his work archievements, that it always feels like bragging to him, that he wants the work to talk for itself.

Thankfully, this is the moment Alexia chooses to make her entrance. Far from toning herself down, she's only become more colorful and boisterous over the years. Hair bubblegum pink, in a dress marked with a giant golden thunderbolt, she makes all heads turn in her direction. Lucas used to think she was a little obnoxious, to be honest, but she's like a breath of fresh air now. She plops into a chair at their table and immediately launches a debate about the worst part of the new foyer and if they could donate another paper toilet rolls sculpture. It's a relief from everyone posturing about their jobs. Although honestly, Alexia's probably the most successful of all of them. He can never wrap his head around what she does exactly, except that it involves millions of online followers, sponsorships in the US, dancing videos with cats and her own shoeline.

Eliott leaves and comes back with drinks for the both of them. They clink their craft beer bottles against each other and Eliott leans down to whisper in his ear :

"Too bad they took away our couch"

Lucas snorts.

"Fuck no, that thing was a health hazard when we were here already, can you imagine after ten years ?"

"I don't know, I mean. It could have been fun to recreate some memories after everyone leaves." Lucas chokes on his beer. If Eliott is trying to distract him, it's surely working.

Across the table he can see Arthur's date look at them with a contemptuous glance on her face. The woman exhudes as much fun as a bag of frozen broccoli. Petty, he plants a sloppy kiss on Eliott's cheek. If they've earned one thing, it's the right to not worry about what people think of their PDA, goddamn.

Daphne arrives at their table and sits down, slightly out of breath.

"Hey guys ! I'm so happy you are all here ! It's been a while, huh ? I have a surprise for everyone later, I hope you will all participate, I'm counting on you !"

For a moment Lucas is terrified she's going to quiz them on their lives or force them into some sort of weird bonding exercise. Then he sees the look on Basile's face and realizes they have worse issues to worry about. F*cking hell, they dated for a few months ten years ago, and he's still looking at her like she hung the moon, and right in front of his girlfriend too. It took him years to get over her, they were gross the first time, and if Basile does something stupid it's going to take the awkwardness levels from slightly unpleasant to excruciating for the rest of the evening.

Then a tall, beautiful woman with dark skin and long tresses comes toward their table, effortlessly elegant in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She puts her hand on Daphne's shoulder.

"Hey babe, sound's all set up."

Daphne blushes up to her ears.

"Hey everyone, uh. This is Sam. She's my work partner and also. Uh. She's going to be my wife."

The table erupts into shouts of congratulations, surprise and joy. Manon hugs Daphne, Basile's expression falls to the floor, and Alexia claps her hands laughing. Lucas isn't surprised, but he is proud. For a long time, Daphne was even deeper in denial than he was. And Sam looks awesome.

Lucas exchanges a smile with his husband. Maybe coming to this reunion was worth it after all.

#skam france #elu #lucas x eliott #my fic #hs reunion au #every time i write 'his husband' it's adding two years to my life i swear #yeah lucas is a little bit of a workaholic in this one #lesbian daphne forever #captain holt voice 'nothing is more intoxicating than the clear absence of a p*nis"#skam france fic

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jmkitsune · 5 years

Text

So like last night I found a project I started back in like November/December last year, I wanted to “novelize” the batman arkham games while...tweaking the story a bit to flow better in some places (I love the series over all but there were parts I felt...needed help)

so I guess that counts as a fan fiction

I was told a few weeks ago by steph when I was having issues with my views on my writing ability that I need to not make some BIG project but I need to try something...smaller, I guess this would count maybe

so I’m just gonna put the first section I wrote below the cut

I haven’t finished the project, I got like 140ish pages but yea

I’m stating this AGAIN because I know SOMEONE will say it if this is read- YES I did try to novelize/write the Arkham Game series as a prose vs a script so no its not some “you’re ripping off the games”

...that was the point, I wanted to see if I could take it and retell it in this format and see if it came out as good.

The last will and testament of the deceased, Thomas Wayne: In the event of my death, I hereby declare that all my worldly possessions pass to my son, Bruce Wayne. Bruce, I ask that you honor the Wayne family legacy, and commit yourself to the improvement of Gotham City, its institutions, and its citizens. Please, be strong. You are young, but destined for great things. Make the most of your opportunities. Use them to give back to a city that has given us so much, to change the lives of millions of people. Do not be frivolous with this wealth. Please, do not waste it all on fast cars, and outrageous clothes, and the pursuit of a destructive lifestyle. Invest in Gotham. Treat its people like family. Watch over them and use this money to safeguard them from forces beyond their control. My deepest regret is I will not see you grow into the good man I know you will become. And finally, my son, I ask that you never abandon this city to fate. We have lived through dark days, and no doubt there are more to come. But it is the good and great men who stand up for Gotham when others turn and run. In death, I will love you forever. Your father, Thomas."

—Thomas Wayne

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cave was dark, damp and cold which was normal. However there was a bitter extra coldness tonight, colder than most nights, it was Christmas eve and the sun had been set for hours now, the snow outside had been falling for hours. As the elevator carrying it's occupant reached the bottom and opened its doors, a large collection of screeches and flapping echoed throughout the cavernous space. The colony of bats screamed as this person disturbed their slumber and awoken them with his large machinery. They tore through the cave, flying every which way until after a few moments descending deeper into the depths of the cave far from sight and sound. Only echoes of their cries and flapping remained for a short time. The occupant stepped out of the elevator with purpose, a stern and almost rage filled expression on his face. The height of his persona felt increased only by the shadow he cast as he strut through the tunnels towards a much larger, open cave filled with lights and equipment. The far side of the cave was a large waterfall, pouring down and blocking an opening in and out of the system that this man had made his base of operations. The large space was filled with computers and machinery on one floor; and in the center, a platform with a black as night flying craft.

The body suit on the man covered him from neck to toe. Made of a tight weave that protected his body from the cold that filled the cave and the outside as well, he also wore heavy armored boots. This man stood 6'0 and was built sturdy. Not massive but stocky enough that you knew he could throw a punch, though outside this dark cave he never gave the impression of that. An angry man, he never seemed to do anything about his anger in public. He couldn't, he had an image to maintain.

Bruce Wayne made his way to the series of monitors and computers, patching into the local news stations and the Police radio bandwidth. As the different frequencies and channels came into focus one monitor displayed News crews attending a press conference at Black Gate Penitentiary. A decorated officer on the screen at the podium was heard mid speech.

"...knowing tonight, we put to rest one of Gotham's most heinous and relentless killers of our time- Julian Gregory Day."

One of the reporters in the crowd spoke next to the assessment.

"Commissioner Loeb!, Commissioner Loeb – any comment on rumors circulating that it wasn't actually the GCPD who found, apprehended and delivered Mr. Day to custody?" He asked, his voice a little evident of the cold weather over at Blackgate, but strong and convicted in this line of questioning none the less. At this the Commissioner left the podium and a man in his early to mid thirties stepping up to replace him, his glasses fogging a bit from the temperature, the man had auburn hair and signs of facial hair forming on his face. He wore a GCPD jacket over a Policeman's uniform and bullet proof vest, he must have been on assignment before arriving or he felt better to prepare for anything tonight at Blackgate.

"There is no such thing as a bat-man!" Captain James Gordon spat in response to the question. His hand pointing to enunciate each syllable for the crowd. Which of course got a buzz from the reporters. All of them shouting Captain Gordon, over and over trying to garner his attention to ask follow up questions. Camera flashes created a strobe effect on the screen as Bruce half paid attention while looking over at another screen and filtering the sound to that monitor instead of the news.

"All Units, all units, Code 10 at Blackgate Prison! Communication is Down. Possible 2-11." A woman's voice filtered through on the Police Scanner. Behind Bruce, an older man, dressed in a nicely pressed tuxedo, carrying a dome covered silver dinner tray quietly entered the cave and watched and listened to the sight before him as he made his way to a table where he softly lay the dinner tray carefully next to a brass framed photo. A black and white family photo of a slightly middle aged man, his beautiful wife and young son. The three looked happy, and the young boy's smile was ear to ear, teeth shining on his face and a sense of prosperity came from the photo as it reflected off the surface of the tray next to it. The older man gazed for a half second at the photo before returning his attention to his master. Alfred Pennyworth, never too thrilled with Bruce's decisions to take up this crusade, gave his undying support regardless because he had served this family for as long as he had. Raising Master Wayne since his parents' death Alfred couldn't help but wonder what the late Thomas and Martha would think of their boy tonight.

Gone was that smiling happy boy, and replaced by a hurt and angry young man. At 28 time had barely tempered his scars. Only inflamed them. Taking a multi year journey around the world, learning many forms of Asian martial arts. Bruce would travel to China, Japan, Thailand, eventually winding up in Korea. In North Korea he found a secret Korean castle, where he would meet the Martial arts Master: Kirigi. The master would take Bruce in as a servant while he trained with his other students in TokagureRyu and other Shinobi.

Knowing an art similar to Japanese Ninjutsu, Kirigi trained Bruce in the ways of the shadow warrior. Learning how to use the shadows, devoting himself to a single ideal and in that devotion learn patience, develop agility, master deception, partake in theatrics and utilize the power to fight 600 men. But most of all Kirigi instructed Wayne in the method of using fear. Two years ago Bruce had returned from this trip and filled in Alfred of his success under Kirigi and how this meant he could begin his crusade to save Gotham. It was then he took up the cowl as Batman.

"Delta 6-4 Enroute" a mans voice broke Alfred's concentration on those memories, reminding him that Master Wayne needed him in the now, tonight was a sordid one. Being Christmas Eve, Alfred had hoped that Bruce would stay in tonight, be a normal billionaire playboy for the cameras on Christmas, however for another year, he shooed away reporters wanting interviews with the young rich industrialist and instead took up his only focus- the mission.

"Dispatch 5-9. Confirm code 10- this a break out?" Another man came through the radio.

"Suspect identified as Black Mask. Repeat: Code 10 suspect is Black Mask. All Units at Blackgate. Code 6 Code 6. Commissioner Loeb being held captive. Repeat. Commissioner is 701." The woman's voice repeated with urgency. On one of the monitors in front of Bruce a file had opened and revealed many pictures of a man in a white pinstriped suit wearing a black skull mask, all with information filtering in along with the photos. Bruce had collected as much information on this man as he could. Black Mask- the alias for a one Roman Sionis. Alfred's gaze followed as Bruce crossed the space from his computers to a spot on the platform they stood on as it raised from the floor, a glass case with metal framing. Inside spun something Alfred had grown accustomed to seeing, and sometimes repairing when Master Wayne was too overzealous on his night's out. The tailored suit of the vigilante. The mantle Bruce claimed after returning home from his trip abroad. The mask he wore to enact his mission to save and protect Gotham, his home.

The Batsuit was black and gray, an armored and caped body armor he could wear to hide his face and protect himself from the scourge of Gotham's dark underbelly. Bulletproof, knife-proof, however the suit did lack in some flexibility leaving Bruce forced to have stiffer movements and have to be deliberate in his actions. For now it suited him well, protected him and struck fear in those who saw it before he beat them into unconsciousness. Designed to withstand or significantly reduce the impact of bullets, the armor up til this point has allowed Batman to barely flinch when shot, causing a psychological strike in those attacking him, fearing that the urban myth that was batman- was impervious to bullets.

Suiting up, and going from the public figure of Bruce Wayne to the legend that was spreading in the city. The enigmatic shadow that struck out and launched a violent onslaught on those who would dare commit crimes in the city. Someone who was the reason thugs collective breathed sighs of relief upon the rising of the sun each morning. Batman. Gathering his equipment as well, a grappling hook gun, a collection of shuriken that were in the shape of bats, and other assorted equipment donned his large belt at his waist. When he was fully equipped with his gadgets and ready to go, he slowly reached back into the container where his suit was housed to lift the cowl and bring it to his face. Sliding it down and over Bruce Wayne's profile snuffing him out for the night. Awakening the other- the Batman to his next patrol. The night had begun and Batman was needed.

The large craft in the center of the cave roared to life as Batman pressed a series of keys on one of his gauntlets. Lifting itself from the ground with loud engines the VTOL hovered in wait for it's pilot to embark them in their starry night flight across the Gotham skyline. Batman marched towards it, his cape billowing behind him wildly as the engine's caused a powerful draft from their force. Batman could just barely make out Alfred's voice behind him.

"You do realize it is Christmas Eve, sir?" The butler called, his arms out and making a hopeful gesture that he could assuage the Bat into taking the night off. However this hope dashed as Batman climbed into the control seat of the jet and rose into the craft, doing last moment system checks of his vehicle. Alfred resigned his hopes and made his way across the platforms to retrieve the dinner tray he had originally came down to the cave with. Knowing he'd better leave it upstairs in the kitchen so that if Master Wayne returned hungry he could heat up his dinner. Alfred Pennyworth would die on the spot the day he served anyone a cold Christmas Eve dinner.

The Batwing rose higher in the cave, it's wings folding down, extending to their full length in readiness to exit it's lair, Batman inside gripped the controls tightly and focused his vision on the horizon line as the Batwing faced the waterfall and screamed out of the cave at an intense high speed. The waterfall barely breaking under the Batwing's trespassing on it's path downward. Batman piloted his craft at top speed to reach Blackgate as soon as possible.

#JM wrote stuff #batman #arkham series #I guess this is fanficiton?#I dunno I avoided fanfic forever #but I'm trying something steph suggested because well my view was narrow and causing me problems #considering putting it all on a drive if someone wanted to read more than this

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its-me-screeching · 5 years

Text

Phantoms - chapter 1: The familiar stranger

My newest Merelsa project! Told from Merida's perspective. For more info, see my AO3. Otherwise, enjoy the ride!

~~~~~~~

It was a regular autumn evening in October, rain pattering against my window like the great biblical flood would be taking place anytime soon, and there was a knock on my door.

I did not pay attention to it.

I retracted my hand from the bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos positioned on my lap and brought the snacks to my mouth. They tasted bland, I thought to myself, like they always did these days. No matter how much I pained my mind, I couldn't recall a time in which food had tasted like heaven.

Another knock. I still wouldn't answer the door.

I stretched out on my couch, reached for the remote of the television, and reduced the volume. The reporter on the news droned on in his monotone voice, speaking of global warming, war, a car crash nearby or something equally terrible. I didn't know exactly what he was saying; all I knew was, I didn't want to hear it.

I cast a third glance at my front door, from which the knocking still resounded. Whoever was standing there would grow tired fast enough, their knuckles reddened and hurting from continously molesting the entrance to my humble apartment. The noise, annoying like a fly buzzing in your ear every second of the day, didn't cease.

Perhaps I would have answered the door quicker if I had but the faintest idea of who could be standing behind it. Thinking back now, if I knew who it would turn out to be, I would've bolted for the door in seconds, anxious to see the person behind it.

Instead, I took my time, letting my eyes roam around my apartment, deciding fast that this was not a place I fancied letting people into. I saw my collection of unwashed plates and cutlery displayed on the kitchen counter like the ruins of a once glorious castle, and a layer of dust on the floor, thick enough to tickle my bare feet if I stood up. And the scent… was not to write home about. I would try to urge myself to clean my home at least once a day, and after around five minutes, I would tell myself I'd do it 'later'.

'Later', I learnt soon, came to mean 'never' if you said it often enough. I felt my face heat up slightly, a blush appearing on my cheeks and heat creeping up my neck, as I sat on my couch, motionless, experiencing something akin to embarassment at the situation I'd gotten myself into.

And yet the knocking continued, and now it felt like an angry beast trying to make my eardrums burst.

It was time to get up and open the door, even if whoever was at the door would see my apartment and faint, were it for the smell or the mould surely gathering on plate number seven in my kitchen.

As I stood up from my couch and trudged through the dust, vowing to finally take to vacuum cleaning later (never, never, never), I called out 'I'm coming! Wait a second!' and continued to wonder whoever it could be at the door

It couldn't be a family member, for I hadn't had any contact with any of them for well over a year. My relationship with them, especially my mother, had been complicated, I'd been told, and after my incident, tension rose and I ceased all contact with them.

Not for the first time, I questioned if it had been a family member, perhaps my mother, who had led me to abuse Nepenthe in such a way.

Nepenthe. A drug, bittersweet on your tongue, but stinging in your brain like acid. There are many reasons to take a drug; the enhancement of your senses, the increase or decrease of focus, to calm down or to go wild. Nepenthe was never like that; Nepenthe made you forget. And when you overdose on it, you'll face the true meaning of amnesia.

I overdosed, two years ago. There were memories, or one terrible, terrible memory, that I couldn't bear to live with. Then I took more I could handle, wiped my mind blanker than unused paper and that was that. When I woke up in a hospital bed, to the smell of disinfectants and feeling like I could vomit my guts out if I tried hard enough, I remembered almost nothing but my name and age.

I would remember in time, the doctor, a friendly Asian man, told me. He'd sit down on the side of my bed, not close enough to feel threatening and he would tell me I'd be fine. He'd had more patients like me, he said, and they all regained their memories as time passed on. As they returned to their own lives, the tiny, insignificant events and people they knew would trigger their memories, cause them to recall who they were before, piece by piece. Hearing a loved one's voice, seeing a show on TV, smelling what was once their favourite food, could be enough to make someone recover a memory they once held close.

I did regain some memories, but I knew my parents were hiding something. I suppose they were afraid I'd try to forget again if I eventually remembered what caused me to take that much Nepenthe in the first place. There was something missing from my life, like someone had taken a vital organ from my body that I could only hope to retrieve someday. I tried to prompt my family to tell me why; why would I do it, why, this was hell, I was in unknowing agony in fucking hell, please tell me what was so important that I'd do this. But my parents, indifferent as always, refused to speak.

They were doing what was best for me, they said. I understood. I understood what was best for me. I moved out of their house, to a different city, and hoped I'd be able to make new memories to fill the void Nepenthe left in my heart.

And still, I was hooked on that lost past, consumed by trying to recover the forgotten. It prevented me from functioning, stopped me from communicating with others and be social like normal people, made me go out at night to walk from somewhere to nowhere in hopes of catching a glimpse of something or someone I used to know well. I was stuck in incomplete existence and knew well that I wouldn't shake that feeling of hopelessness unless I figured out why I'd decided to ruin my own mind and life once.

Then there was the knocking on my door. For mere seconds, I allowed myself to think my parents would be standing on the other side of it, that they would tell me they would discuss the issues of my memories with me over dinner. Deep down, I knew it could only be my landlady, though, for it was possible I was behind with my rent. A small jab of misery on a list long enough to fill a novel.

I opened my door and fell speechless.

"Hello, Merida."

I didn't know her. That was all I could think about. This girl, with her platinum blonde braid and blue eyes, skin paler than snow, was not someone I was familiar with. And yet, it felt like I'd known her for decades.

"Do we know eachother?" I asked, feeling the vague sensation of a nervous nausea pooling in my stomach.

The girl smiled, and somewhere, deep in the back of my mind, I thought I could recall laughter, distant and unreachable. But it was there.

"I don't blame you for not remembering me. I know what happened, but you see…. We were friends once."

I raised an eyebrow. "Friends?"

"Friends. Good friends."

I crossed my arms. "What's your name, then?"

"I'm Elsa. Elsa Arens."

Many questions formed in my head. A fraud, I thought, she's looking to take advantage of my situation. Some people are experts at sniffing out where to get money… though, to be honest, if she knew my name, she'd also know my as a supermarket cashier provided me with just enough money to be able to have dinner every night, nothing more. I wasn't a millionaire in a movie, there was nothing she could take away from me. And this girl knew my name.

I felt my nails digging into my sleeve. "If you want, you can come in for a second. It would be easier to talk that way."

'Elsa' nodded. "That sounds like an idea."

Her voice, I thought, had an edge to it as cold as the autumn breeze outside. There was warmth in it, sure, but it was hidden. I would have to do my best to bring it out.

I took a few steps back. "Don't mind the mess," I said, getting ready to close the door behind her.

I was sure she was aware of it. The smell, the dishes, the dust, all of it. She didn't look around when entering the living room, but I saw her eyes move everywhere, soaking up my mess. I settled on my couch, leaning against the armrest, and she sat opposite of me, far more elegant than I could ever hope to be.

"So."

"A start." Elsa eyed me with a stern look. "Do you believe me?"

"Partially."

"Partially?"

"Yes, partially. If you were a good friend of mine, why didn't you come see me at the hospital? You know what happened, you know the aftermath, and we're two years further now. It took you two years to come and talk to me. That doesn't sound like a very good friend. Does it to you?" I sounded aggressive, more than I wanted to. Every bit of pent-up anger that had been building up over the years came spilling out of me, like a sleeping volcano coming back eith another eruptiom. I didn't want to be this angry with her, but considering the circumstances, I knew I had a right to.

Elsa leaned forward with a remorseful look, shoving my abandoned bag of bland doritos away with one hand and resting her chin on the other. "I'm sorry. I should've contacted you sooner. I just… I had to leave. I would've been there for you if I had the chance."

"What could possibly be more important than a friend who needs your help?"

"It was urgent business."

I almost laughed at it. A cruel laugh. "Urgent business? Sounds to me like you were in prison or something."

"Prison?"

"Yeah, could be. What did you do? Theft? Murder? Fucking hell, you better not be a former friend-turned-killer who's showing up to get my help hiding from the police."

Elsa's eyes widened. "No, no, nothing like that. It's the other way around, actually."

"Did you just accuse me of murder?"

"I meant that I'm here to help you, Merida. You don't have to do anything for me."

Now I did laugh, slumping on the couch even more. "Help me? Now? Is this you arriving fashionably late? 'Cause this isn't a fancy fucking party, Arens. This is 'urgent business'." I mimicked her own words, prying for a reaction.

"Look, I'm sorry I couldn't be there. I'm sorry I had to leave, but I'm here now, am I not?"

"Yes, you're here to help me. Help me with what, exactly?"

"Have you looked around, Merida?" her voice grew icier with each syllable. "You're a wreck. You need to get your life back on track if you want to be alive when next year comes around. You're dead now. I mean, you're obviously alive, but you're not living."

"I'm not a zombie."

"But you're moving through life as one."

She was right and I didn't like it. For all my dreams of being reconnected with my past, this was too much. It overwhelmed me, as if someone had drenched me in enough chloroform to make me sleep a hundred years, only to wake up to a reality even colder than the old one. I made up my mind.

"You need to leave."

"Oh, if you want me to, I will." Elsa stood up, not in hurry. "But your parents… they won't tell you why you overdosed, right? The only way for you to find out is through them, right?"

"What?"

"I know what you tried to forget. I know why."

Upon hearing this, I shot off of the couch like a gun from a bullet. I stared into her eyes, currently as welcoming as the cold, brick walls of my apartment building, and made sure she could see the determination in my own. "Tell me, please. I have to know."

"I can't tell you. You need to recall it yourself."

"No, I don't have to. I don't need to know anything else about you, god, you seem like an awful friend after what little I learned about you today. I don't need to know anything but this."

"If I tell you," Elsa stated without losing her cool, "years of lost memories will crash down on you in a few seconds. That's not healthy. You might even suffer from brain damage after. So you see, I'm opposed to telling you."

"Tell me then," I continued, "the whole story. Who you are, who I am, who we were. Tell me about your urgent business you had to leave for. This friendship we used to have. I'll gather memories and eventually, you'll be able to… you'll be able to tell me why."

Elsa sighed. "It's a long story. It would take me days to tell you all of it, Merida. I can't reduce 13 years to an hour."

"13… years?"

"It seems like you underestimated the extent of our friendship. It's not a problem."

"So, what do you propose?"

She raised an eyebrow and it was terrifying. Somewhere, hidden in my mind, many more moments like this one were locked away. It baffled me.

"I'll help you get your life back together, in a way. We'll clean this mess. We'll go some places together, make some new memories while you recover the old ones, and eventually, you'll find out why you overdosed."

"Sounds simple, but effective."

"Any objections?"

I narrowed my eyes. I'd become too curious to have any serious objections. "I still feel like you went to prison or something equally bad."

"Believe what you want to believe. I'd tell you about my reasons for leaving, but I can assure you, that would cause your mind to collapse too."

Too many memories still gone to know the truth. I knew what I had to do.

"Fine. Help me get my life back on track, Arens. Help me figure out what happened to me, and I'll decide in the end if your reasons for abandoning me in the past were good enough."

A small, almost adorable smile appeared on my guest's face. "Thank you."

On that strange autumn evening, I took my first step to uncovering the truth I now know. It was and is a terrible truth, one I still want to forget sometimes. It is also, however, a truth that needs to be told, to be remembered, for both knowing and not knowing broke me down just the same. I will write it down, for all who wish to read the tale, and I will never forget again.

#merelsa #elsida #merilsa #merida x elsa #elsa x merida #merida #elsa #brave #frozen #femslash #fanfic #my gay children learn to bond #and more

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hankypranky · 6 years

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T. Rickster, The Dickster Part II

Part I can be found here.

They will probably be shorter chapters as this isn’t my usual style. I have an overall plot planned out, so I will continue as long as you guys want me to.

Tom didn't wait until Sam left the door frame before making his way in.. He looked around, not much had changed since he had last been here. The walls were lined with bookcases, full to the brim with small gadgets here and there. The only gap in the books were the space for a loveseat and a leather ottoman.

“Still no TV?” Tom asked.

“Who needs TV when you have all these books”.

Tom ran his finger over one of the shelves and it was coated in dust. “Ah, haven't changed much have you Sam. You a bit dusty in the bedroom too?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I see you haven't changed much either.”

He was about to wipe his hands on his suit, but realized what he was wearing. Rolling the dust off with his fingers, he said pointedly, “Actually, I have changed. Jobs that is. You would know if you had a TV.”

Genuinely happy for him, he merely responded,“Good for you.”

“Thanks. If I can do real journalism for a while, I might be able to get back in my parents good graces too.”

“I thought you hated them.”

“I do, but I want my trust fund back. I am still living over off Payne and Maryland paying too much rent for all the crime scenes I have to detour around. Plus, it will make our yearly trip a lot less awkward.”

“I'm sure they're sick of hearing about the most recent bigfoot sighting.”

“Hey! That last one was legit.”

Needing to keep Tom in check, he moved the conversation to the reason he allowed him in his apartment in the first place. “So, what type of interview do you want to do?”

“Well, most reporting these days are fear based. I'd like to follow you on a standard hunt and give the viewers some pointers on how to protect themselves, so they can feel safer.”

“And my research?”

Tom walked around the small apartment, “I'll introduce you with your all those letters in your name, where you went to college, yada yada…” Turning back to face his ex-lover, he explained, “It would be best to talk about the science while you're capturing a ghost so they pay attention. Then tell them what they can do at home. And finally you get your plug at the end.”

That sounded reasonable. Tom continued, Just don't make it too long winded. If you're looking for funds, I can help you set up a text to donate number. If you want to push your business, we can put your number up on screen. However, we will probably only get 7 minutes to start, but hopefully we can turn it into a public service section every week.” Tom shrugged, “Not sure, depends on the ratings.”

Sam stuffed his hands in his pocket, “I don't know how Dean will feel about this. He really doesn't like you.”

“He still mad about throwing up in his car?”

Frown lines formed on Sam’s precious face. “He will never forgive you for that. Ever. Remember that double date we went on at the bowling alley?”

Tom had forgotten about that completely until Sam brought it up. His expression turned to one of delight as the memories came back to him “Really? She was his type! I paid her for services rendered if you don't remember.”

“Exactly, that was the problem. She was a hooker!”

Tom corrected him, “Escort. Busty Asian Beauties finest. Come on, you know I was trying.”

Sam smiled. “Yeah. I know. Okay, now get out of here. I have to go to the bunker. I’ll text you his response.”

He started walking towards the door. Sam went to grab the handle to let him out when Tom looked up into Sam’s hazel eyes. “Thanks Sammy, I really appreciate it.”

At first he was surprised at the sincerity but recalled all too well the Dickster didn't really have a bad bone in his body. He was just a huge pain in the ass.

Tagging the folks that re-blogged the first part. If you don’t want to be tagged, let me know and if you do want to be tagged, let me know!

@mrspadaleckisworld @archangelgabriellives @nobodys-baby-now @meetmeatthecrossroads @1talian1ce @ajcza @nerd-litteraire

#rich's bitches #rsj #spn fic #spn parody 2 #gabriel #sabriel #richard speight jr #r.trickster #t.rickster

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timmyrx2000 · 6 years

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Dipper Steps Up: Chapter 9

Chapter Index: (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13)

Chapter 9

A police car had parked in the driveway of the Taylor house. Dipper rang the doorbell, and Mabel answered the ring. "They're in back talking to Chuck's parents right now," she said. "I've already told them what happened."

The Taylors sat side by side at the dining-room table, holding hands, while two plainclothes policemen sat opposite them. As Dipper and Mabel came into the room, he saw that one was tall and built like an athlete, with oddly hooded eyes that made him look almost Asian, the other shorter, more heavy-set, and completely bald. The taller one asked, "Is there any close friend that your son might go to hide out with?" His words sounded businesslike, but the tone was warm.

Mr. Taylor said, "He's got a lot of friends. He's on the high-school baseball team, and sometimes his friends come here and sometimes he goes to their houses. Now and then one of them might spend the night here, or Chuck might do the same at their house. But I don't think any of them would hide him, especially if he's hurt."

"Steve," the bald policeman said, nodding toward Dipper, "this must be the boy that Joe and Frank called in about."

The taller detective looked around. "Mason Pines?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Tell us what happened."

Dipper went through it all: how Chuck seemed to be sick lately, how he had fainted once and blacked out once. He explained how he and Mabel had come over after the game to see how Chuck was, how Mabel had called out when the big crash came, and how he had tracked Chuck by the drops of blood.

"You didn't actually see him, and you don't know how badly he was hurt?" the bald policeman asked.

Dipper shook his head. "I'd bet he cut himself going through the window, though," he said. "I don't think it was too bad. He didn't have any trouble climbing the fence, and he must have been walking pretty fast, so I doubt he hurt his foot or leg."

"How high is the window?" the other detective asked.

"About twenty feet from the ground," Dipper said. "A pretty good drop, but Chuck's athletic."

"Are you sure it was his blood?" the bald one asked.

"Well, yeah," Dipper said. "It was fresh, and there's a splash of it under the window and small streaks on both sides of the fence. I don't think he was bleeding heavily, though. There'd be a drop about every five or six paces, and they were small. They got farther apart as they went along, as though the bleeding was slowing."

The tall detective, Steve, looked impressed. "You're a pretty observant kid."

Dipper didn't know what to say. He just shrugged.

He told the two detectives the names of the kids on the team, and the bald one made notes. Mr. and Mrs. Taylor identified the three that Chuck was closest to, and Steve said, "Meyer, call those names in and get addresses. We'll check them out to make sure Chuck didn't head to one of their houses." Then he thanked Dipper and Mabel and said, "We've got your home number and address. We'll be in touch if we need anything else."

Mabel said, "I hope you find him. Mrs. Taylor, call us if there's anything we can do."

Mrs. Taylor nodded, looking on the verge of tears.

On the walk back to their house, Dipper filled Mabel in on what Ford had told him. "Labyrinth," she murmured. "There's something—what is it? I can't remember!"

When they got home, they told their parents what had happened and asked if they could walk around the neighborhood and try to find someone who might have seen Chuck. Their dad agreed, and they set out on their bikes.

Half an hour later, after cruising the streets in a kind of widening circle focused on Chuck's house and finding no one who remembered seeing the boy, they rested near the Plaza of Piedmont Park, beneath the shade of a live oak, trying to think of their next move. Then Dipper's phone chimed—Grunkle Ford's ring. "Hello!" Dipper said.

"Dipper," Ford said, "I've got more information for you. Want to take this down?"

"Just a second." Dipper put his phone on speaker, then fished a pocket notebook from his vest. "Mabel's here, too," he said. He briefly explained that the police were looking for Chuck.

"All right," Ford said. "Here's what I found: He can't simply construct a labyrinth. It must be one that already exists, preferably an ancient one, like those the Native Americans used for meditation. Are there any of those nearby that your friend might have known about?"

"I don't know!" Dipper said.

"Yes!" Mabel said. "Oh, my gosh! Now I remember! Dipper, when we were about six or eight years old, Dad and Mom took us to the Round Peak Volcanic Park, remember? That's not far! And there was this weird sort of, I don't know, crop circle thingy, except it wasn't wheat, it was rocks piled up in patterns on the ground—"

"I do remember!" Dipper said. "You could see it from the trail, down in a kind of valley!"

"Would your friend have known about it?" Ford asked.

Mabel said, "Let me call and ask." She took out her phone and walked a little apart.

"All right," Ford said. "If that's where he's gone, listen carefully: The ritual must be performed as the sun is setting. He'd have to invoke the ancient powers with a series of chants—and I know that Nathaniel knew these, because some of them are written on the final pages of that old book in his awkward pencil printing, phonetic equivalents of Liksiyu words. Fiddleford helped me translate enough of them to tell they're what he would use."

"How do we stop him?" Dipper asked.

"You have to prevent him from completing the chant. If you can't do that, you must force him to take a backward step or to step outside the lines as he walks the labyrinth. If you manage it, Nathaniel's spirit will lose its hold on your friend. Or if you can keep him from leaving the labyrinth until after the sun has completely set, that would do it, too. But he'll be desperate—and remember, it will look like your friend, but unless you can cast Nathaniel's spirit out, it'll be him in control."

"No chants or anything we could use against him? No magic?"

"I'm sorry, Dipper, no. Everything hinges on stopping or interrupting the possession ritual, and it may be very dangerous. I wish I could be there!"

Mabel came running back. "His mom Chuck did a report on the rock maze for school one year!" she said. "Dipper, Mrs. Taylor will drive us over! Her husband's out driving around with the police, looking for Chuck!"

"His mother won't understand— " Ford started.

Mabel interrupted: "Yeah, she will! She knows about the ghost! She saw him once!"

"Oh," Ford said. "Well. Then—what you must do is get to this location before sunset—is that possible?"

"Yeah, if we hurry," Dipper said.

"Then go! Go as soon as you can and remember what I said! And be careful, Dipper! I hate to see this, but—don't trust your friend! He's not in control of himself. No matter what he says, don't trust him!"

"We got that covered, Grunkle Ford," Mabel said. "I've dealt with this before!"

"I—I beg your pardon?"

"Long story," Dipper said. "Tell you later."

"Both of you—be very careful!"

"We will. Gotta go!"

They raced toward the Taylor house, with Mabel on the phone, talking to Mrs. Taylor and barely missing parked cars and the occasional startled dog. They skidded into the yard and saw Mrs. Taylor already at the wheel of her gray Honda CRV, the engine running. She motioned to them, and they piled into the car, Mabel in the front, Dipper in the back seat. "Are you sure about this?" she asked.

"Yes!" Dipper said. "We have to hurry!"

"We need to get there before the sun goes down," Mabel added.

"Fasten your seatbelts," Mrs. Taylor said.

For all the urgency, though, the trip went slower than they wanted—Saturday-afternoon traffic thronged the streets, and what might have been a fifteen-minute drive under ideal conditions stretched into half an hour—though once Mrs. Taylor turned off Snake Road and onto Skyline Boulevard the going grew easier. She turned into the visitor's lot at a little past six-forty, with sunset still thirty or forty minutes away. Dipper noticed that the park hours were seven a.m. to ten p.m.—plenty of time, if they could just find Chuck first.

The Visitors' Center was not manned, but people came by laughing and talking, many of them with dogs on leashes. "The fastest way is up Water Tank Road," Chuck's mom said. "I don't know if anyone will stop us, but here goes!"

It was only a cracked, one-lane asphalt access road, and it went steeply uphill. "I kind of remember this park from when we were little," Dipper said. "I'd forgotten it was so close to Piedmont!"

"Yeah," Mabel said, turning around in the front seat. "It's an actual extinct volcano called Round Top."

"The labyrinths are visible from the trail called Round Top Loop," Mrs. Taylor said. Dipper held on—the small SUV bucketed over the rough pavement. "When he was in the fifth grade, Chuck was crazy about volcanoes. We came here several times, and he did a report for school about the volcano. It erupted, I think, ten million years ago." She hit a bump that made them reach for handholds "Sorry! Some of the labyrinths are recent, sort of works of art, but the big circle, they think was made hundreds of years ago by Miwok Indians."

They reached a barrier across the road and had to stop, but Round Top Loop passed right across the way—a foot trail, marked by a directional sign. As they got out and hurried along the path, Dipper told Mrs. Taylor what Ford had said. "We won't hurt him," he promised, "but remember, Chuck isn't in control right now. It's your ancestor, Nathaniel Northwest, who's trying to take him over for good."

"My brother got taken over when we were twelve," Mabel panted—they were all but jogging. "By an evil nacho chip! Who was a being of pure energy with no weaknesses, so I had to tickle him into submission!"

"What?"

"He was really an interdimensional demon, not a ghost," Dipper said. "But it was the same principle."

"It should be right ahead, off to the left," Mrs. Taylor said. She stopped. "We—we should be able to see it from here! It was right down there!"

Dipper looked past her. The ridge fell away to the left, leveling out—but it leveled into a valley like an enormous shallow salad bowl, the bottom tumbled with stones in no shape or order and spiked with weeds and seedlings. "I don't remember," he said.

"I'm almost sure this is the right place," Mabel said. "Could somebody have bulldozed all the rocks? Or moved them by magic?"

"Or—hid them with magic," Dipper said. "I'm going down."

"Wait!" Mrs. Taylor said, her voice changing to a husky, exhausted kind of hoarse croak. "I might be wrong. It could be farther along the trail. I'm winded."

"The sign back there said 'Circle Labyrinth ½ mile,'" Dipper told her. "This should be it." He looked over his shoulder. "And the sun will be down in a few minutes!"

He ran down the steep slope, having to take uncomfortably long steps. He heard Mabel yell, "Wait up, Dip!" and Mrs. Taylor shouted, her voice rasping even more, "Please, no!"

But—he waded into the earth itself! Or seemed to—the floor of the valley shimmered around his knees, his waist, his chest—it was an illusion. The second his head sank beneath the mirage, he saw the circular labyrinth, maybe seventy feet in diameter, a narrow winding intricate rock-lined path following the outer edge, doubling back, doubling again, crooked and confusing, leading to a center where a nearly spherical black boulder brooded.

And he saw Chuck.

The boy sat on the earth at the opening into the labyrinth, looking limp as a rag doll that had been propped there. He did not move, but Dipper could hear the drone of his voice, buzzing and harsh as a locust's stridulation: "Immani k'challa t'sun damvani kulo nunika t'skalla unul ai! Ai!"

"Chuck!" Dipper shouted and ran toward his friend.

"Stop!" The word hit him like the lash of a whip. He spun.

Mrs. Taylor stood glaring at him, dust sticking to the sweat on her face. Mabel stood in front of her, her face twisted in a grimace of pain. It looked as if Chuck's mom had wrenched her arm into a painful hold. "I had to be here," she said harshly. "I was going to send you two ahead, but no. Boy, did your research tell you that Nathaniel Northwest wasn't just a rich man, but a master of magic?"

"Wh-what?" Dipper asked.

"That time when this one was young and saw his ghost in the old house . . . she didn't back away. She went . . . inside."

Mrs. Taylor shoved Mabel, who stumbled forward, arms flailing for balance. Dipper caught her and saw Mrs. Taylor weaving her hands and arms in a strange pattern. He heard her words: "Blood be ice, breath be gone, flesh be clay, bone be stone!"

And, holding Mabel, he felt himself freeze into place, like the time he had been turned to wood—he couldn't move, couldn't speak. He felt Mabel go rigid, too.

But this time he could both see and hear. "I'm stronger than you imagine, boy," Mrs. Taylor said, her voice reverberating strangely, as if alternating between male and female. "Even unhoused from flesh, an exiled spirit, I have dominion sufficient to capture both the mother and the son, though I can move my puppets but one at a time. I'll leave this one for now."

Mrs. Taylor went limp, her knees buckling, and she fell forward on her face, thudding to the stony, sandy earth, and lay still. Instantly Chuck stood, his left arm dangling, dried blood streaking his forearm. Dipper saw he wore socks, no shoes, and that they had become so tattered he stood almost barefoot.

Chuck, or Chuck's body laughed. "There remains the journey in, the journey out," he said, his voice rattling with that weird duality, ancient buzzing insect and fifteen-year-old boy. He glanced at the setting sun. "My time is almost at hand. I will go in as leech but emerge as the only soul within this body. I limp in crippled, but stride out with the power of instantly healing this broken arm. I step in diminished, but I will step forth with my full magic restored to me." He raised his right hand as though clutching something from the air. "I will hold the mastery of life and death in my grasp. And when I return to live again—the three of you will have to die."

Laughing, he turned his back on them and stepped into the labyrinth.

To be continued

Note from the Authors: This was just an idea I had but the one who really worked his magic and wrote almost all of this is none other than BillEase. He’s an amazing author who usually hangs out at fanfiction.net. Don’t pass up on a chance to check out his stuff. This guy is AMAZING. He wrote the story, I just gave the plot.

#gravity falls #gf #au #baseball #dipper pines #mabel pines #dipper #mabel #mabel and dipper #dipper and mabel #fanfic #fanfiction #gravity falls fanfiction #Dipper Steps Up #gf fanfiction #gf fandom #Chapter 9

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missingverse · 6 years

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Missing Chapter Twenty Six

So by now the fic has moved quite far from the original idea and is moving closer to the issues surrounding the rest of Arnold and Helga's lives. I'm wondering if I should make this and the next chapter the last two and start another fic about the aftermath? What do the readers think?

Note: Obligatory suggestion to check out my novel on Kindle if you like my work: The Hothouse Princesses by S.A. Hemstock.

…..

Three months on:

Arnold knew his grandfather wasn't happy about letting Ambrose and Helga move into the boarding house, but financially he wasn't really in a position to refuse a paying customer. It looked like the adoption process was going through with no problems, and thanks to Helga's many donated funds she was able to get a ramp installed in the back of the house, as well as repairs done on the ground floor. Even Phil had to admit that it was a relief getting some of the old fixtures replaced.

Curtis Waring's trial was coming up, and although Helga was able to walk with a cane now she couldn't walk for long and would have a permanent limp thanks to a shattered ankle she sustained during her catatonia. It was decided for her own safety that she would stay in the hospital for the duration of the trial, to prevent any backsliding in her condition.

Ambrose moved into the two room apartment without her, and set about making it habitable for a man and a young girl. It hadn't been touched since the last person who lived there moved out seven years before, and had been neglected by both Phil and Arnold since they had all the other rooms to service. Ambrose stripped the dingy wallpaper, tossed the old moth-eaten furniture and gave the whole place a new coat of paint. By the end it barely looked like it belonged in the boarding house.

“Is Helga's trust fund covering all this?” Arnold asked when he stopped by to bring Ambrose a glass of iced tea.

“I didn't touch none of her money,” Ambrose told him from the ladder he was using to paint the wall sconces. “I have plenty of my own.”

He drove back to his old apartment to collect his furniture and his dog, an old bloodhound named Della. Arnold helped him carry the stuff in, and he was struck by how many classic antique pieces Ambrose owned. Ambrose caught him staring at a particularly fancy chair, and laughed.

“Ed picked out most of this stuff,” he explained. “I didn't care so long as I could sit on the porch of an evenin'. But I figured Helga would like that chair.”

A set of pictures went up on the walls, most of them Ambrose's deceased partner or the two of them together with Della lying in front of them. Arnold liked the look of Ed; a chubby middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a quirky grin. It really was a shame that they'd never been able to adopt together, but he knew Ambrose felt like Ed had sent Helga to him so in some way she was their daughter.

“Ed would've loved her,” Ambrose said once. “He always wanted a little girl, especially a little spitfire.”

Ambrose was as good with Arnold's grandmother as he was with Helga. He was patient with her nonsense rambling, which had just gotten worse since the stroke, and he often helped her out with cooking in the evenings. Phil had been quiet, cautious around him at first, but even he came around eventually when Ambrose offered to take a look at any of the broken fixtures in the house.

“I'll take it out of your rent,” Phil offered. “Since you're saving me a repairman's bill...”

“Nah, keep it,” Ambrose shrugged. “I like to keep busy. Let Della warm herself in the kitchen and we'll call it even.”

But what was best about Ambrose moving in was that now Arnold had a lift every time he visited the hospital, instead of having to make the long journey by bus and staying in that crappy motel overnight. Phoebe hopped in with them sometimes, and even Patrick tagged along though he had a car of his own and was busy with college.

Helga was doing well. She had a good, safe place to live when she got out of the hospital, someone to take care of her the way she deserved and her friends nearby. She would have everything she needed. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

Nothing.

…..

On the first day of the trial, reporters showed up on Arnold's doorstep and peppered him with questions as he and Ambrose were trying to leave. He heard at least one ask about him finding the murder scene and a few mentions of the words 'crime forums.'

“No comment,” he managed to remember to say as he barreled through them to Ambroses' truck.

They were worse at the hospital, and were wise to the trick of sneaking Helga out the back. Officer Plaskett covered her with his coat as Ambrose pushed her chair, and by the time they got her into the truck she seemed a little freaked out.

“They had cameras,” she murmured. “I thought they weren't allowed take pictures of me?”

“The gag order is up because you waived anonymity,” Plaskett explained. “Unfortunately, that's what it's going to be like for a while. I'll keep you under wraps as much as I can but realistically a few pictures are going to be released. This case is very high profile.”

Arnold saw her swallow, hard.

“Don't be too nervous,” Plaskett continued. “The defense has been warned to stick to certain topics and not to grill you. The judge will interfere if they get goady, and if you feel like you need a break you just ask for it. Don't push yourself too hard.”

The court was mobbed with reporters, onlookers and a handful of people holding up signs of support or condemnation. There was a pretty shocking amount of people that thought Helga was lying about Waring, and that his other victims were just human garbage that the world didn't miss. The court police cleared a path but they had to carry her up the steps, and Arnold had a feeling that that was an image that would show up on the news that night: Ambrose carrying her bridal-style up the stairs while Plaskett and Arnold lugged her wheelchair behind them.

They were allowed into the courtroom early, to make sure Helga was comfortable and ready. The judge even came in plain clothes to talk to her privately. He looked nice, a grandfatherly type of man, but Plaskett had warned that he was a hard man with a poker face you could never interpret. Waring's lawyer, wearing another painfully expensive suit, came in early too to discuss with the judge.

The jury trickled in, a distinct mix of young and old, men and women from all walks of life. Two black, three vaguely Hispanic, one Asian, four white. According to Plaskett that was a good mix. Spectators and support filled the benches, court reporters took their seats, the prosecuting lawyer arrived too late to talk to Helga but at least looked smart.

Finally, Waring was brought in. In a suit, not even handcuffed, groomed and trimmed to look as normal and nonthreatening as possible.

Even so, Arnold heard Helga draw in a ragged breath and saw her hands clench under the desk.

…..

For three straight hours, Waring's lawyer built up an image of a man who had been accused of nothing more than a misdemeanor. He painted a picture of a shy and quiet man whose desire to keep to himself and live a back-to-nature life in the woods lead to him being accused of murdering prostitutes. He made it sound like the girls who had gone missing from Pocaselas had brought it upon themselves by entering the notoriously risky job of streetwalking.

The prosecution brought up his dishonourable discharge from the military, but even this was dismissed as a petty act by a vengeful ex. By the time Helga was called to the stand, Waring was being painted as a saint with some spiteful enemies.

But even Helga's presence in the court dimmed the lawyer's hard work. The jury looked on sympathetically as she wheeled herself to the bench and was sworn in.

“Could you state your full name for the court, please?” the lawyer began.

“Helga Geraldine Pataki.”

“And, how old are you, Helga?”

“Sixteen.”

“How old were you when you claim to have been involved with my client?”

“I was eleven when he caught me.”

“Caught you? Am I to believe there was a struggle?”

“Yes, he threw something over my head and knocked me to the ground. Then he jabbed me with something.”

“That's a little vague...could you elaborate?”

“A needle. He jabbed me with a needle. Whatever was in it knocked me out.”

“I see....could you tell us where he caught you?”

“In the woods, the hills just outside Hillwood.”

“And what were you doing out there? According to your statement, this was just after dawn, am I right?”

“It was about 8am, I was trying to get downtown early. I spent the night up there.”

“You spent the night in the woods?”

“I had a hideout there, I slept up there sometimes.”

“I see, and what did your parents think of you sleeping in a cave in the woods?”

“They didn't know.”

Helga was impressively stoic on the stand, but Arnold's irritation with the lawyer was building. His rapid-fire questioning was clearly designed to knock her off balance.

“Is it safe to call you a runaway, in that case? Because you had gone hiding somewhere without your parent's knowledge?” he continued.

“I suppose so,” Helga shrugged.

“That's a risky thing for a little girl to do.”

“No riskier than staying at home, I thought.”

“Were you aware that there were other people in the woods at that time of day?”

“No. I'd been staying up there a long time, I hardly ever saw anyone else. It was rough terrain.”

“But the area was open to the public, so indeed anyone could have stumbled across you.”

“I suppose, but they would have had to try very hard. They would have had to been watching me for a while.”

The jury murmured, and the lawyer just about suppressed a frown.

“Let's go back; you were staying overnight in a public area without your parent's knowledge. That's a fact you have in common with a lot of these missing women.”

“I suppose so.”

“Would you have said you were a difficult child, Ms Pataki?”

“Depends on what you mean by difficult.”

“Well, I have some reports here....they use words like hostile, uncommunicative, defiant, rude....I could go on. Would you agree with those statements?”

“To that person, then yes. Maybe.”

“You had a habit of hanging around older boys, am I right?”

Arnold heard Patrick, just behind him, suck in a breath.

“What do you mean by 'hanging around?'” Helga asked.

“You were often seen in the company of older boys.”

“I was on the baseball team with a lot of older boys, so yes, I guess.”

“But outside of baseball, you saw some of these boys socially.”

“Mostly just one, the others I saw in passing if we were all doing the same thing. I was the only girl on the team so they looked out for me.”

“Forgive me, but it's a rare kind of boy that wants to be in the company of a younger girl without getting something in return, would you agree?”

“Then I was lucky, because the ones I knew treated me like a younger sister. Maybe the boys you knew were different.”

A wave of soft laughter echoed in the courtroom. Red spots of annoyance popped up on the lawyer's cheeks.

“Still, running away and hanging out with older boys, that's not a usual thing for an eleven year old girl, is it Ms Pataki?” he prodded. “That combined with these reports suggests you were pretty troublesome back then. Is that fair to say?”

“I didn't realize having crappy parents was such a crime,” Helga quipped.

Now, the courtroom didn't attempt to suppress their amusement; they laughed openly. But when the laughter died down, one person was still loudly chuckling. All eyes in the room turned to him.

Curtis Waring.

He had been blank-faced throughout most of the proceedings, but now tears of laughter ran down his face. When the judge banged the gavel and commanded him to be quiet, he calmed down, wiped his eyes. And then he looked directly at Helga and mouthed three words to her.

That's my girl.

#missing #hey arnold #hey arnold fanfiction #tw: abuse #tw: crime #courtroom drama

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plastiscguy-blog · 6 years

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BLACKOUT (Thiam)

Chapter I: Dynasty.

It was impossible for Liam to forget the day he met Theo. Seven years ago, he would never have believed that his life would change in more than one way; going to the best art college in Chicago was only the beginning.

The stone path surrounded by trees that ended in front of a big old building only accelerated Liam’s heartbeat, who wondered how many other students had captured the image of the beautiful landscape on canvas as he wanted to do at that time.

However, the architecture inside the building was more modern than traditional, standing out completely from the outside. The works of art that hung on the walls intimidated the boy who felt like a miserable novice. And as he got closer to the reception, his heart was racing faster and faster. It was a big step he wanted to believe his parents would be proud of.

As the minutes passed and Liam walked to his new bedroom, without taking his eyes off his schedule, he tried to understand how mathematics was related to art. Would he learn to paint geometric figures? He felt the arrogant looks of the other students on him as if they knew how insignificant his art was compared to the future graduates.

In front of him was a weathered door with a pile of numerical plates of different colours, adorning the wood. He quickly turned his gaze to the key with the number in blue, wondering if that would be the right door, because he didn’t want to enter to a wrong room or worse, jam the key and have to call a locksmith.

For his luck and misfortune, the door opened without first having put the key, however, a female body fell on him throwing both to the ground. The girl quickly got up, running in another direction embarrassed and furious. Liam stood up, rubbing his back, while the boy in the room tried to contain his laughter.

“Are you OK, mate?” Smiled the blonde guy, raising an eyebrow. Liam sighed slightly, feeling a bad feeling about the young man. “You must be my new roommate, I’ve been told about you a moment ago.”

“Yes,” Liam answered, leaving the bag in the only free place in the room, the floor. “I'm Liam.”

“Nice to meet you, I'm Theo.”

When the doors of the hospital opened wide, the eyes turned to the young man in stained clothes, who was holding his hand in his chest, agitated. The place was really disheartening, people covered in blood, others with extreme pallor among others only made Liam wonder how bad his husband was because he couldn’t even think of anything positive.

"You’re finally here." He heard Jonathan Raeken's voice. The man was known to never show any emotion, so seeing the state he was in was even more exasperating.

"Where is he? What happened? How is he? Is he okay? "And thousands of questions came from the voice of Liam, who desperately begged for information. He felt his heart beat with fury and he thought he was about to suffer a crisis. His hair was dishevelled every time he had his hands to his head, trying to contain his impotence.

"He’s in surgery right now. We haven’t received the medical report yet." Liam nodded, chewing on his lower lip. His eyesight lifted, believing that his tears would disappear. "Where the hell were you? He told me you would have a dinner together."

Liam looked away, denying. He felt stupid enough to confess something that had no importance at least at that moment. While both were heading towards the waiting room, Jessica Raeken was lying on the wall, fixing her makeup.

She didn't want to direct her furious gaze to her son-in-law, whom she had always resented. Hate grew inside the woman every time she remembered that her son was like that because of Liam.

As the hours passed and Liam's eyes threatened to close, he had managed to remain calm despite everything, however, when the doors opened and the man in a robe came out with an expression of discouragement, the discomfort returned. The three people immediately approached, attacking the man with questions. "I need you to calm down." The doctor asked. "The patient is out of danger. He lost too much blood, but we have been able to stabilize him and suture the wounds successfully. Now, he will be transferred to intensive therapy, where he will be further analyzed."

"Does it mean... he will be fine?" The woman asked, hopeful. The man nodded, unsure.

"For now, yes. We will keep it under anaesthesia until we consider it necessary."

However, the seconds seemed hours and the hours turned into days that passed slowly as they never received encouraging news about Theo. The young man had suffered a cerebral concussion and the induced coma seemed to be the best option for the deflation, but once the days turned into weeks, the doctor considered that it dependent on Theo to wake up.

"I've returned as soon as possible. Any news?" The asian-featured girl was talking to Liam in the hospital cafeteria. The dishevelled and unfortunate aspect of the boy contrasted with the neat look of the brunette. "I'm sorry I wasn’t here before. I cannot even imagine how you feel..."

"I want to believe that everything is going to be fine..." he whispered, sipping his glass of bitter coffee. "It's hard. Everything is stable, and yet Theo doesn’t wake up. And I feel it's my fault. "

"Don’t you dare to blame yourself, Liam! Unfortunately, shit happens. You'll see everything will be fine."

Liam laughed bitterly, posing his gaze on the bluebird on a branch, outside the window. "If something happens to Theo, I’d be lost."

Liam found it strange to see that his roommate didn’t have any related to the paintings object in the room. Where were his works of art? And his brushes and canvases? Because he didn’t think any more than a pair of socks would fit in the small wardrobe on the corner.

“Where are your things? Isn’t allowed to have those kinds of personal items in the rooms?” he asked, pointing innocently to his bag of brushes. Theo laughed, denying.

“It is. I just don’t think my piano fits in this little pigpen.” Liam narrowed his eyes, surprised. He had never been close to a musician, much less a pianist.

“Sorry. I thought they would put me next to a painter.” He commented, taking his clothes out of his bag.

“Don't worry, you're not the first freshman I share the room with. I just hope you're not one of those who gives up and flees too soon.” Liam laughed, nervous. He hoped it as well. “Anyway, there is a party tonight in the neighbouring sorority. The girl who just collided with you is the hostess, she won’t like to see me there, but whatever. Are you in?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I've done my research about this college and its parties... so, no, thank you.” And no matter how hard he tried to sound nice and thankful for the invitation, he wondered if he sounded too pretentious. Theo just smiled, nodding away.

And once Liam hung small posters on his side of the room and the night came, the appetite began to be noticed in loud sounds coming from his stomach. The snacks he had brought with him seemed not to be enough, so maybe a walk around the building would clear his mind, maybe finding a vending machine on his way.

He wondered if everyone would be at that party that his roommate mentioned before because there was no sign of human activity in the entire building. However, the lovely sound of a piano cleared his doubts and as he got closer to the music, the surprise of seeing Theo sitting in front of the piano in the music room overwhelmed him. What was it doing there?

“I thought you’d be at the party.” He interrupted. Theo turned around, scared but smiling once he saw who it was. Why did he smile so much? Liam wondered. “Is it a piece of yours?”

“I don’t know if I should feel flattered or kill you for not recognizing a piece by Beethoven.” He teased. Liam rolled his eyes. “You were right, it wasn’t a good idea going to that party anyway. Besides, I’m supposed to prepare an original composition for this semester, but, nothing original comes to mind.”

Liam leaned on the marble pillar. He knew exactly how that felt. He fought day after day not to have the same idea that someone else had had a second before, but it was difficult. “I know how it feels… Wanna know what do I do when the same thing happens to me? I think I'm part of a dynasty. It makes me feel powerful, so nothing seems to stop me and for a moment, I am truly unstoppable.”

After a couple of seconds, Theo quickly turned around again, taking his pen and writing notes on his empty notebook as he played different keys. Liam laughed, confused. He couldn’t understand what was happening. “You know?“ He said. ”You just gave me an idea. And I think it fits perfectly with the concept I had in my mind. Mate, you saved my ass.”

Liam laughed, fun as Theo turned around again while continuing to improvise.

“What's going on?” Liam looked up, seeing Theo opening his eyes slowly. His hand slid gently from his husband's, walking towards the door where Jessica rested her body. “Where am I?” Jessica entered quickly when she heard her son's voice and the tears did not wait. Liam brought his hand to his trembling mouth. He never missed Theo's voice so much before “My God, honey.” Theo frowned, letting himself be held by his mother, feeling pain in his body.

Jonathan Raeken came in followed by nurses to the room, who separated the woman to do their job. The three waited impatiently, seeing how Theo was analyzed as if he were a laboratory rat.

“Well, young man, can you tell me your name?” The doctor asked, lighting Theo's eye with a small flashlight. The blond frowned. “Yes, it's Theo.” He answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, Theo. The car you were driving in had an accident, you've lost some blood, suffered a couple of fractures and a slight cerebral concussion. But, apparently, there is no aftermath. Do you recognize these people present?” Theo nodded, still overwhelmed. “Yes, my parents. And..." Liam approached, slowly. “I'm sorry, did you say car accident? How? Whom car was it? My parents don't let me have a car.” The man looked at Theo's parents, a little nervous. “What? what's going on? Why are you looking at me like that?” “Do you know what year are we in?” “2010“ He answered annoyed. Jessica hugged her ex-husband, hiding her tears. “Can anyone tell me why do you keep looking at me that way?” “Theo...“ Liam whispered, with tears in his eyes. Theo huffed, shocked by the confusion, wondering who that guy was.

#Thiam #Thiam Imagine #liam dunbar x theo raeken #fanfic

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1188

Have you ever shared a shower or bath with someone as an adult? I did it a couple of times with a past girlfriend, but I’m honestly not a fan of it unless I’m somewhere with a serious lack of bathrooms and it’s the only choice available. I like my space when I get myself all cleaned up lol.

What kind of pizza toppings do you like? Different kinds of cheeses do it for me, really. If I absolutely have to pick toppings, I do like bacon, bell peppers, barbecue chicken, or onions on my pizza.

When did you first take a shot of alcohol? I have no idea, actually. Maybe 20? 21? I never noted the year down. I don’t even know the first shot I ever took...if I had to guess, it was probably tequila.

Did you babysit for money when you were in middle school? No. I babysat because I was the eldest daughter and granddaughter in an Asian household, haha.

Who is your favorite band? How long have they been? Paramore; 17 years, have loved them for 14.

Has the last person you kissed ever been to your house? Many times. She used to be a welcome guest.

Have you ever been to a spa? I don’t think I’ve ever entered one, no. There’s been no reason to in the past.

When talking on the phone, do you place it against your left or right ear? Right. I don’t remember ever placing it on my left, come to think of it.

What’s your favourite Lunchables meal? Idk, I’ve never had them. American thing, I’m guessing.

Do you like Bob Marley? I don’t hold an opinion on him; I’ve never tried listening to his music.

Have you ever eaten at Golden Corral? Nope, I don’t know what that is, either.

Do you sit and eat dinner at the same table with your family? Yes, we have dinner together every night. We’ve been doing it since the start of the pandemic; and, with that, since my dad has had to stay at home since he can’t report to work anyway considering the situation. I imagine we’d be back to eating separately once he can report back to his job.

Are you listening to any music right now? If so, what are you listening to? Yeah, I’m listening to Map of the Soul: 7 and UGH! just started playing. This is such a good FUCKING album it’s absolutely insane how good it is. Whatever spirit possessed BTS throughout 2019 to produce an album this unbelievable wasn’t playing.

Who was the last person to make you genuinely smile? Hobi, since I rewatched the Run BTS segment where he called Conan O’Brien ‘Curtain.’

Is there something you want to say to someone but can’t/won’t? No.

Do you like men who have a sensitive side? I think it’s nice when anyone has a sensitive side and isn’t ashamed to be in touch and expressive with their emotions. Doesn’t have to apply to just guys.

Have you ever tried to get someone into a certain band/artist? I don’t do that with any of my interests because I don’t want to potentially irritate or bore someone, or to potentially face the disappointment I’d feel when they don’t end up being enthusiastic about what I’m into. I’m totally okay with my interests just being My Thing, no need to drag other people into them.

Have you ever carved you and someone else’s initials into a tree? Nopes.

Do you like Dairy Queen? Just some items, like their Oreo Frappe or whatever it’s called. I’m not a big fan of ice cream cakes and I’ve never really explored their Blizzards.

Is there anyone you know with an amazing personal success story? Andi.

Is there a song in a different language that you can sing? Well Filipino is my first language rather than English, so yes.

How do you feel about bands that use pyrotechnics in live concerts? I’ve never experienced this other than One Direction using fireworks at the end of their concert here (and they weren’t launched from the stage either, but somewhere backstage), so I don’t really know what to feel about this other than they should just make sure they’re following safety protocols and standards to avoid mishaps.

Ever fallen down a hole? I don’t think so.

Do you like bananas? Not so much, but I don’t passionately hate it as much as I do other fruits. I do like some dishes that incorporate banana, like banana bread and banoffee pie. Recently I discovered Korean banana milk and it ended up tasting pretty good!

How long do you normally spend in the shower? Not even 10 minutes, usually. I've never understood how people can take such long showers. < Yeah, pretty much on the same page. The only times I take a while is if I feel like shaving, but otherwise I shower quickly. Maybe around 4–7 minutes at most.

Have you ever been a featured member on any website? I don’t think that ever happened, at least when having featured members was still a thing.

Have you ever had any weird pets? Nope.

Are you currently talking to/texting/instant messaging anyone? I am not. Though I know I have unread messages from Andi...I just don’t feel like checking them right now.

Have you ever experienced insomnia? Only when I was a teenager. It’s been a while since I’ve faced any trouble in trying to fall asleep.

Do you like egg nog? I’ve never had a chance to try it but it sounds delicious, and I would definitely take a sip the first opportunity I get.

Would you ever wear Converse with a prom/formal dress? I don’t see why I would have to but if it’s just for funsies, it sounds pretty harmless so yeah, I would.

Do you prefer hot chocolate with or without marshmallows? Withoooooooooout. I’ve never understood marshmallows.

How many different people of the opposite sex have you cried over? In a romantic sense, none. But I’ve cried for other reasons, like when I mourned over my grandpa and Nacho.

Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician? Surgeon, since there’s a tiny part in me that had always wanted to take up med school.

Would rather be a musician or a painter? Painter, if anything. I’m not creative by any means, but I feel like I’d enjoy a lot more freedom with painting.

Would you rather write your own book or make your own movie? [continued from last night] Write my own book I suppose, but I could only work with non-fiction. I’d embarass myself if I had to write something not based off of real life.

At home, do you have a trampoline? No. But this reminds me of when we’d go to Rita’s place to have meetings whenever we couldn’t hold them in school. She’s the richest one out of all of us, lives in a very old money village, big-ass house, big-ass kitchen, big-ass receiving areas (plural)...and they also have a nice trampoline in their big-ass yard. We always used to horse around in there as soon as we were done with our meetings.

When you are about to go to bed, do you put on some sort of noise? I used to put on a YouTube video that would entertain me enough to feel relaxed and eventually sleepy, but I haven’t done that in the last few weeks. These days I usually look for a fanfic to get absorbed in, then I read until my eyes start feeling heavy.

What is your favorite Christmas movie? Love Actually or It’s A Wonderful Life.

And what about your favorite Christmas song? It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas makes me feel festive and fuzzy.

What is your ultimate favorite stocking stuffer? My family doesn’t really keep up with this tradition. I remember how our grandparents would fix up stockings for us when we were much younger, but they were usually filled with candy.

After Halloween, do you sort out all of your candy into little piles? I never collected candy for Halloween.

When you listen to music with headphones, do you keep the volume low enough to hear surrounding noise faintly, or do you blast it? Depends. The rare times I’m working and do feel like putting headphones on, the volume has to be just decent enough so I can still focus. If I’m not doing anything else or at least doing something that doesn’t involve too much ~brain activity~, I like my music very loud.

What did you have for breakfast this morning? It doesn’t really count as breakfast but I’m currently finishing off the remaining two pieces of McNuggets I got last night. 10 pieces is apparently too many for my appetite, haha.

What’s the largest animal you’ve ever had as a pet? Cooper has probably been the biggest and heaviest so far.

Do you own any kind of helmet? We have a bike helmet here at home, but it’s not exclusively mine.

Out of everything currently in your refrigerator, what food or drink is your favorite? I don’t memorize the fridge so I can’t tell you my favorite food that’s currently in it; as for drink, I just stick to cold water.

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? Sprained ankle after I tripped at one of the parking lots in school.

Do you like the taste of cough syrup? I’ve never had it.

What is something you like to have conversations about? People with experiences vastly different from mine, because it lets me explore different perspectives. It’s why I always look forward to family reunions with one of my uncles - who’s a foreigner, from a very different country - since he’s able to share a lot of fun and reflective stories about his life and stuff he did in his youth, stuff I never got to experience and live through.

What all is in the trunk of your car? The trunk used to be my trash can lmao, back when I was still driving everyday. My mom has since cleared it out since the beginning of the pandemic; I believe only a laptop bag is sitting there now.

Do you ever put fruit on your cereal? No. I don’t even eat either.

Is your heat or air conditioning currently on? My electric fan is. I don’t turn on the aircon until the evening.

Have you ever fallen off of a horse? Nopes.

Which do you value more, your appearance or your intelligence? Both are important to me.

When was the last time you drove something other than a car or truck? I don’t remember. I’ve only ever driven cars.

Were your grandparents present when you were born? Neither set wasn’t in any of the photos from my birth, so I don’t think so...? My maternal grandparents definitely wouldn’t have been present, since my parents had been living in Manila then.

If you drink/smoke, how often do you do these things? I vape...pretty much all day. I’m doing it while taking this survey. As for drink, I would say 1-2 times a month. Usually after a particularly grueling shift.

What do you think of fast food? I love it. Unabashedly. I just don’t have them a lot because I don’t find it filling and the quality is obviously lower; but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the way fast food tastes.

What website do you spend the most time on and why? Google Suite, if it counts. I work 5 days a week; it’s pretty much an extension of me at this point.

What’s the most amount of time you’ve spent online? Is this usual for you? All day. I’m always using the internet to do things. I used to be embarrassed of it, but these days I feel like having a connection is virtually an essential.

When it comes to travel, what kinds of places intrigue you most? Museums, historical sites, cultural sites, and spots where they show you how they do practices native to the place. I’ve always been about immersing myself in the cultures of the places I visit.

What is the farthest you’ve walked in one day and what made you do it? I remember having to walk for a very very very VERY long time when we were in Bali - my family wanted to explore more of the city - and the weather wasn’t cooperative at all, so I ended up feeling super cranky. I remember also walking around a lot in Shanghai, but that was a slightly better experience since the city was incredibly lively and there were a lot of things to see and stop at; not to mention the weather was also kinda pleasant. The cold was biting but I would always rather be too cold than walk around with sweat-soaked clothes.

What is something important that’s often on your mind lately? Our financial situation what with Covid affecting both my parents’ jobs. We get by enough for me not to worry too much, but I also hope my dad can get called back to his ship soon just so I can finally exhale with relief.

What about something unimportant, but you can’t stop thinking about it? My workplace recently introduced this workout challenge thingy for the month of May that we’re invited to join to encourage us to get fit and healthy. I get notifications whenever someone’s able to exercise for the day and it makes me feel super pressured hahahaha. Since I don’t wanna be known as a killjoy co-worker I know I’ll have to take part in it, which I will start on later.

Do you like oatmeal? If so, what kinds of things do you like in it? No. Back in elementary my grandma made me eat oatmeal every day for breakfast before heading to school, so I don’t ever want to have another bowl of it.

What was going on the last time you felt nostalgic? My family and I were having a conversation during dinner last night and for some reason it eventually veered towards mine and my sister’s experiences from our first school and how we managed to get up at 5 AM everyday, have classes from 7 AM–4 PM, then get home from anywhere between 5–6 PM for 14 years straight. How tf did we do that and never complain???

How much attention do you pay to the movements of the stars and planets, and do you believe they influence anything? None.

What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played? While I love watching playthroughs, I am not skilled at video games at all and in most video games I’ve played I never made it past the first mission, unless I was playing a Nintendo game that’s already marketed for kids in the first place lol.

Which accent do you find most sexy, alluring or appealing? There’s a certain British accent I find very pleasant to listen to, but since I know there are a lot of variations I’m just not sure which one it is. I guess an accurate point of reference would be Hugh Grant’s or Florence Pugh’s accent.

Which accent do you find most annoying, disturbing, or bothersome? None of them.

Can you cry on cue? Is it any kind of useful? Nope.

Does it take you a while to actually get jokes? Sometimes.

Can you wear socks to bed or does it annoy you? I don’t really like the feeling of socks, so no. I find them a bit itchy, and too tight.

Have you ever bleached your hair? Never done it before.

Do you like jelly beans? Erm, it would depend on the flavor, I guess. But they aren’t so much my snack of choice. The texture is a bit weird.

Do you have trouble sleeping when it’s storming? Not at all, I feel a lot cozier when it’s raining hard.

Who was the last person you know that graduated? (high school or college) Sofie posted her graduation photo not too long ago, so probably her.

Were you happy or sad when you found out your babysitter was coming? I never had a babysitter because I was the babysitter.

Did you have a boyfriend in kindergarten? No. I went to an all-girls school, so I didn’t even get to interact with a lot of boys until the middle of high school.

Did you ever read the Magic Treehouse series? Nope.

Who was your best friend in elementary school? Angela. I was also friends for a long time with a girl named Jaynie, with whom I actually started to reconnect ever since she found out I was now into BTS. I find it so cool; I don’t think I’ve talked to her since the 2nd grade, 15 years ago.

Did you ever watch The Land Before Time movies? I didn’t.

Did you collect anything when you were a kid? Stickers. I'd put them on my dresser everywhere to the point it was absolutely covered. < Literally this entire answer; I don’t have any clue how my overly neat mom managed to never spank me for destroying her closet. I also liked collecting Pokemon cards and pogs even though I never knew how to use them. It just felt nice having large stacks of them lol.

Did you get an allowance? Not until high school. My grandma (and eventually househelp, when we moved) fixed up packed lunches for me and my siblings. When my mom decided to stop having house helpers at home, that’s when she started giving us an allowance to buy recess and lunch ourselves.

Were you into American Girl dolls? I was never into dolls in general. Since my sister and I were the only girls at home, we were surrounded by toys marketed for boys and that’s what I enjoyed playing with more.

Were you friends with your childhood neighbors? We played with the neighborhood kids every afternoon but I wouldn’t call them friends. I was a very shy kid and I found them too rowdy for my liking, especially the boys.

What was your biggest fear when you were a kid? Flying cockroaches. It’s still one of them.

Did you ever play the "Reader Rabbit" computer games? I don’t think so.

Did your parents let you drink soda growing up? I’m pretty sure they would’ve allowed me to, but I just never liked the feeling of fizzy drinks so I never drank soda anyway.

What was your favorite kind of cake as a kid? I think I liked mocha sponge cakes growing up, but that has changed now.

#survey #surveys

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mina-van1104 · 4 years

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IMPORTANT: Please read this all, or don’t READ at ALL or you won’t know the full story. Even if I have explained it, you will never know the WHOLE story. Just want people to be aware of this situation & look out for one another.

•

I posted on Neighbors app & got 1649 views & 49 comments but got wrongfully deleted-so again, (Picture Suspected boy on red bike of stealing/stalking). Most likely noticed later he lives on 2236 (moved in 2017).

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There was a boy in a RED bike at 2:36 PM on Rockdale Drive, Sparks, NV- April 17, 2020 who encircled his bike more than 9 times only in front of me & my family’s house & nobody else’s house in our security camera video. 2 videos did not film the whole thing- encircled 17+ times.

•

My family has been living in the same house since it was first built in 1990 (30 years ago before I was born) never had any problems until 2017. Please watch out, this kid might flatten your tires with a nail because happened to us March 13th & 14th (2 days in a row). One of our cars got shot in January.

•

Thank you to the other neighbors including Neighbor 49 who have been living there for more than 10 years & said they had similar problems with kids using their bikes as an excuse to stalk the original owners like us (us original owners).

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Everyone, keep a look out. There are no kids living in our (my) house. So if you see a boy in a red bike riding around my house- HE DOES NOT LIVE HERE at my house!

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Let his parents know or call the police! People it’s a pandemic- you’re supposed to be staying indoors right now anyways! Stay away from our house!

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Please watch out- this boy & his family & be careful of that boy & his family. They have a gun, because I heard gunshots near their house before several times when I’m in my backyard. Seen that boy several times in this neighborhood in this past week realized where he lives after I posted the video. Stay away from us! I was born here & lived here my entire life.

•

I’m just going to take it as a compliment now for all the hateful comments I got when I exposed to them on that Neighbors App, that I am a mixed Asian- there is a lot of discrimination towards me & treating us unfairly, but I’m glad there are still a few nice people out there who are looking out for this situation.

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Sorry if I ever sounded rude on the app-I was only defending myself. I was really angry & couldn’t believe what SOME people were actually saying when they knew absolutely nothing about the situation.

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They were writing inappropriate things to me & I was not the one writing inappropriate things & my video got wrongfully deleted obviously by someone PREJUDICED. In the comments I had to keep repeating myself because some people are seriously just so “slow” & don’t understand what I’m talking about.l, but I never called them “slow” or innapropriate on the app. Some people even MISREAD my information & they are the ones who started assuming the wrong things. The nerve!! Grrrr!

•

Haters hate because they’re jealous of us & they’re so ignorant & uneducated & trashy, but yes, no kids live at our house & pointing out that we’ve had somebody shoot a gun at our car in January and then 2 flat tires on 2 of our cars 2 days in a row. That is obviously suspicious.

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That boy & the new neighbor kids were spreading untrue/rumors about us when we did nothing. I love our house & love my family & our successful accomplishments/awards/college degrees in life.

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Whether you believe in Karma or not, Karma is real & I don’t have to do anything. Whether you believe in God or not God is real. I don’t have to worry.

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I guess just look out-that boy does NOT live at my house & I know what I know. I know the full story & some people obviously don’t, so again, never judge if you don’t know the whole story & never assume. I’m glad I was raised right & treat everyone how I want to be treated with respect no matter how we look like. I think you guys should spread kindness instead of hate.

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The boy was targeting ME. I am NOT targeting anyone. I actually like children but polite children in public-not rude, disrespectful children. I prefer the senior community/ the elderly over some kids though. Hopefully they could have the NEWER neighbors move & let only seniors & elderly live in our neighborhood like it used to be.

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I’m only saying 2236 house & not mentioning the other times other kids from other houses of NEWER neighbors harassed us verbally due to our race/ethnicity. *cough, cough* 2266, 2225 too, etc. not going to mention the other ones. Bunch of kids loitering only in front of our (my) house & not at anyone else’s house.

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I want people to be aware that boy in the red bike does NOT live in our house.That boy & his family moved in only in 2017 where me & my family have been living in this same house since(1990)when houses were first built (thirty)30 years ago(Before I was born). We are the Van residence MOST of us BORN in Nevada Asian/mixed Caucasians-former Veterans-not all living in the same household-big family. Take care.Spread kindness/not hate. Look out for one another. Thanks all.

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We lived in this house since 1990 in this WHITE picket fence, yellow house with Gonzaga University graduate & University of Nevada Graduates! My older sister was locally famous & a former News Reporter on KOLO 8 News Now.

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We are the Van residence thank you very much!! We are Asians (mostly American-Nevada born & Caucasian/white mixed family not all living in our same household with former Veterans.

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We’re not prejudiced & don’t judge others differently. My camera ALERTED me about this. I have a life. I don’t sit there & watch my camera. My camera alerted me.

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Like I said, I’ll just take it as compliment now, because haters hate because, they’re jealous. They hate what they don’t know. I’ll keep walking my walk, and you keep talking that talk. Hope you all have a good day! Thank God, my family & I have brains!

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Haters hate on us because they’re jealous & they hate what they don’t know. Don’t be ignorant or prejudiced. We never did anything to to that boy/his family/friends. We never had anybody harass us until 2017 & a lot of hate towards us since 2017. Again, take care, spread kindness/not hate. Look out for one another. Thank you all, bye. 🙏🏼💕

•

Things I’m proud of: Like I said, I received 2 athletic scholarships & did Cross-Country & Track 6 years straight & was always on Varsity. I still compete in 5Ks & half marathons. Very proud of all my accomplishments/awards in life! Always will! 👊🏼 Always stay positive what ever happens.✨

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I’d like to repeat, I was Nevada born & raised, Like I said, I was literally born on Election Day (on the year a president was elected on the day I was born. I’m 27.💁🏻‍♀️-it was President Bill Clinton). Also on my birthday November 4, 2008, 💙Barack Obama (one of the best presidents) was elected president on my birthday.

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With my 2 college degrees, Bachelors Degree I graduated with & 2 extra medical licenses, & me always being an overachiever before most people my age before 22 years old in many different areas of life, compassion & being respectful to ALL people is the most important!

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*Nevada BORN & Raised & some of my big families living in Nevada for 41 (forty one) years now with mixed family of Asians/ Caucasians with American Veterans🇺🇸, Doctors, News Reporter, Nurses in our- blood-related family & family in-laws, & mixed Asian/small portions of European Descents,etc., it’s not Democrats Versus Republicans & it’s not about which party winning, so do what’s right for ALL people & do not vote for Trump. * Please vote for Biden (A genuinely good person & very well-educated).

•

⁣# Selfie # athletic # Quarantined # QuarantinedLife # NevadaProud # NativeNevadan 📸 # Biden2020 # JoeBiden2020 💎🐾🏃🏻‍♀️💪🏼 # NevadaBornAndRaised # HomeMeansNevada # Nevada # UNRnevadaAlumnaMay2016🎓 🐾 # NevadaAlumni # PostUniversityGraduate 🎓 # WolfPackAlumna 🐾 # BachelorsHealthSciences # PublicHealth # Nurse🐺 # 2CollegeDegrees # 2ExtraMedicalLicenses # AllAccomplished 👊🏼 # AlreadyAllAchieved #TrueAccomplishments # integrity # honesty # humble # kind ✌🏼 # RenoBornSparksNative 🤙🏼🐾🐶

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woozibby · 6 years

Text

Mr Detective; 3

- Mr Detective

- SVT X BTS AU ( X FEM Reader)

- Chapters will be posted every Monday

- Contains death, bad language, murder, kidnapping, bodily harm.

PLEASE DONT READ IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED IN ANY WAY OR DO NOT LIKE THIS SORT OF STUFF

intro | 1 | 2 | 3 |

{{ i've tried to do research for this chapter, so hopefully everything i've put down is right. If there's any information you think may be incorrect or maybe explained wrong, please either comment or message me personally. Thank you. }}

UNEDITED (like always)

It had been three days since our argument and Namjoon's outburst. Not many things had happened over those three days, mostly small cases, things that the detectives got through easily.

I was now just noting down things in my notebook whilst Seungcheol sat at his desk, typing away at a report on his computer.

It was still awkward around Seungcheol. We talked, barely, but he was somewhat less of an asshole.

So we were just sat here in silence, I got side tracked doodling on the side of my page.

Suddenly, the phone rang on Namjoon's desk, and he picked it up swiftly. He didn't wait long before speaking.

"Detective Kim" he picked up a pen that was sat on his desk, and starting to write down things on a sticky note. "Okay, thank you" He put the phone down, and quickly stood up. "We gotta go, a Body has been found"

The other detectives quickly stood up as well, picking up their things and getting ready.

"Me too?" I ask, and surprisingly it's Seungcheol who nods and responds.

"You too"

Honestly, this is kind of what i excepted of a crime scene: lot of police, medicinal examiner, forensics, some press. Everything you would except.

A woman, looking around the age of 27, was dressed in dark blue suit as she assessed the body that lay on the ground.

"Miss Yoon" Seungcheol sighed, looking down at the deceased girl. "What have you got?"

"First of all, who's this?" She asks, noticing me standing behind Seungcheol.

"I'm-..." Seungcheol quickly cut me off, letting himself explain.

"This is (Y/N), she's here on placement" Miss Yoon sent a displeased look to Seungcheol.

"Let the girl talk for herself" Seungcheol seemingly rolled his eyes before raising a hand, motioning me to talk.

"I'm (Y/N)" I smile slightly, and Miss Yoon smiles back.

"Well (Y/N), I'm Yoon Bora, nice to meet you" Seungcheol groans slightly, again rolling his eyes.

"Can we get back to the point in matter now"

"Yes yes" Bora exclaims. "Jane Doe, an Asian female, around the ages of 19-25 has been stabbed, tortured, the list goes on and on"

"Any ID or belongings found?" Bora shakes her head.

"Nothing, she's just been placed here, I'd say death was between 12-4 am last night and she was most likely placed here after death, but I'll know more once we're back to the lab" Bora explains, noting down things on her clip board. "Also, by the way some of these wounds look, it's like she was tortured and kept tied up a lot longer before her death, maybe a week or two"

Seungcheol sighs, shaking his head. Just listening to this, I could understand why Seungcheol was acting the way he was, the way everyone is acting here. This poor young woman has had her life viciously taken away from her, with unknown reasons why.

This girl had been bruised, beaten, tortured, tied up, hurt in ways I probably can't even imagine. It's utterly horrible.

Seungcheol went over to Yoongi and Wonwoo, who were talking to a witness. Namjoon, was talking to another police officer, and I was still standing in my original place, by Bora as she continued checking over the body.

"Are you okay?" I hear Bora's voice cut through the noise of everyone else at the scene. I hum, and nod my head.

"Yeah, it's just my first time seeing something like this"

"Ahh," Bora starts, she wasn't looking at me, which I could understand and honestly at this moment appreciated. It wasn't that I was scared, it was that I was shocked. Yes I had seen it in tv shows, and in movies, but that doesn't live up to what it's like in real life. The smell of death emanating in the air, the sounds of everyone talking and the sirens on the police cars. It was so different, yet so similar. "It's okay, I hate to say it, but you'll get used to it" Bora sighed sadly.

"How do you cope?" I ask, I couldn't raise my voice to high, for some reason I couldn't allow myself.

"I cope by doing my job, and helping to find the bad guy and making sure whoever is put on my slab gets their name know, and their stories told and aren't forgotten" Bora states, making a smile appear on my face.

"That's a nice way of phrasing it" Bora finally looks up at me, and smiles.

"Thank you"

Looking back round to see if the detectives had moved, I point over to where Seungcheol was standing, now only Yoongi and Wonwoo there, as the witness and gone to talk to someone else.

"I should probably go see if they need anything" Bora nods, and I start to walk away.

"Oh, by the way (Y/N)" She calls, and I turn to look at her.

"Yeah?"

"You know where my morgue is right?" She asks, and I shake my head. "Well it's at the station, on a different floor, come see me if you need anyone to talk to, I know it can get a bit of a handful when you're around the boys all day" She smiles, and I return it.

"Okay, thank you"

I made my way to Seungcheol, Wonwoo and Yoongi and coughed slightly to get their attention.

"Hello"

"Hi (Y/N)" Yoongi and Wonwoo respond, and Seungcheol just nods.

"So what did the man say?"

"Well, he was having what he calls, his usual morning walk, and found the body and then called in, this being about thirty minutes go or so" Wonwoo explains, and I nod along.

"Didn't he check to see if she was okay first?"

"He said he checked for her pulse, but couldn't find it"

"Ah okay" Yoongi raised an eyebrow, and sent me a look.

"Why?" I sighed, and shook my head.

"Maybe it's nothing, but wouldn't you ask for an ambulance just in case?" I suggest, and Seungcheol shakes his head.

"In this case, no"

"Oh okay, I understand" Crossing my arms over my chest slightly, I look between the three again. "Did you find anything else?"

"Things have been found, but we need to go through them and see what the autopsy brings to the table as well" Yoongi says, and Bora walks up and stands next to me.

"I'm going to take the body back to the morgue now, and I'll tell you guys my findings later"

"Okay, thanks Miss Yoon" Seungcheol says, and Bora nods.

"Come see me later yeah?" She asks, placing her hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah okay" I smile, and once she's satisfied with my answer, she walks away and goes back to helping out her small team.

"You seem close already with Miss Yoon" Seungcheol says, and I shrug.

"She said I can go talk to her" I say, and Wonwoo smiles.

"She's nice like that"

"She does seem really nice" Namjoon, appears next to me and claps his hands together.

"Okay guys, so Wonwoo you come with me and we'll interview more of the witness, Seungcheol and Yoongi you go back to the station and look through what we have already and see if you can find anything" Namjoon explains, and the three nod in return. He turns to me, and smiles. "You can go with Seungcheol and Yoongi"

"Okay"

Namjoon and Wonwoo still hadn't arrived back from talking to some of the witnesses. Seungcheol sat at his desk, quietly thinking to himself, and Yoongi sat staring down at the photographs of the crime scene.

"The one thing I don't" he sighs, resting his forehead in the palm of one of his hands "these flowers"

"Flowers?" I ask, moving from my seat and going over to Yoongi. "Can I take a look?"

"Sure, go ahead" Yoongi handed me a branch of photos that showed the flowers from different views and angles.

"You know flowers have meanings right" I state, and Yoongi clicks his finger.

"We need to find out wha-..." I cut him off quickly.

"No need" I take a deep breath. "Theses are all Lilies, white Lilies, so basically they mean purity and being pure" I explain.

"How did you know all this?" Yoongi asks, and I shrug.

"My parents owned a flower shop when I was younger, so I grew up learning them" Yoongi nodded, as I handed back over the photos. "Whoever did this is must be showing a message through the flowers, otherwise why would they pick those?"

"I have no idea" Yoongi confesses.

"Could it be that whoever has done this is showing off?" I question, "To them, this girl is pure, or has some sort of purity about her. Maybe whoever did this is attracted to whatever he thinks is pure?" I take a deep breath, and once I look at Yoongi to see what he thinks, I notice both Yoongi and Seungcheol are staring at me.

"Where did all that come from?" Seungcheol asks, and I shrug.

"I don't know it's just what my mind came up with whilst thinking about the meaning of the flowers"

"You could be onto something there," Yoongi says. He picks up his pen and starts to note down all the flowers and their meanings.

"Another thing I don't get is, is if this person does have some sort of fascination with either her or purity then why would they murder someone?" I mumble.

"People have killed for a lot less than fascination" Seungcheol sighs.

"And they've killed for a lot more too" Yoongi adds.

The phone on Seungcheol's desk started to ring. Picking it up, he held it to his ear and listened to whatever the other person was saying. After a few hums, he puts the phone down and looks at me.

"Come on, Bora has found something"

"Don't let her hear you call her Bora" Yoongi laughs, "She'll kill you for being a brat" Seungcheol rolls his eyes, and shrugs.

"Whatever" He looks at me again, and raises an eyebrow. "You coming?"

"Me?" I ask, and he lets out a groan.

"You're supposed to be following me 'round right? For your placement" Seungcheol says in a annoying voice, and his face deadpans.

Since Namjoon wasn't here, he didn't have to act all kind, he could go back to being his usual annoying self.

"Seungcheol be nice" Yoongi says, not looking up from the photos.

"I asked her to come didn't i? I could have left without her"

"And I would have followed" I send him a look, before copying his actions and letting my face go serious after a few moments.

"Then come on" He rolls his eyes. "Otherwise I will leave without you" he says, standing up and walking to the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming"

"Then hurry up and act like it" Seungcheol calls back, exiting the room. Leaving me rolling my eyes and rushing off after him.

"See you later Yoongi"

"Yeah, yeah, bye, be nice to each other!" He calls out as I open the door.

"No promises!" We both hear Seungcheol call from down the hall.

"What he said I guess"

I followed Seungcheol around the station, until we got to the morgue. Barely entering the room, he was already asking questions.

"What have you got?"

Bora held a clipboard in her left hand. She had changed from the dark suit she was wearing at the crime scene into what I assumed was her light blue scrubs, and her hair was pushed back up into a pony tail.

"No hello?" Bora sends Seungcheol a look. Getting no response, Bora rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh. She soon notices me, and smile.

"Hello (Y/N)"

"Hello Miss Yoon" Bora chuckles, and sends me a look.

"Just call me Bora, (Y/N)" i nod, and smile.

"Okay"

I hear a gasp come from Seungcheol and I giggle. Bora turns around, I'm assuming to check something and I stick my tongue out at Seungcheol when he sends me a look.

"No messing around you two" Bora says, her back still turned.

"How come she can just call you Bora, yet I have to call you Miss Yoon?" Seungcheol asks, crossing his arms.

"Because she's polite" Bora simply states, turning back round.

"But-..." Bora quickly cuts Seungcheol off before he can protest any further.

"Shouldn't we get to the point of you guys coming down here" Both Seungcheol and I nod in silence and Bora starts talking again. "We got a dental record match for a Jeon ChaeMin and she's 22 years old"

"Jeon ChaeMin" Seungcheol mumbles, writing down her name in a note pad.

"She was stabbed about 20 times, probably over a period of a few days, a lot of her wounds were treated to, before whoever did this decided to make more," Bora explained, "with the amount of stab wounds there are, the person never went near her face or chest, always her legs or arms" She soon clarified, looking over her clipboard. "No evidence of sexual assault, and I found materials of what seems to be rope around her wrists and ankles"

"Any evidence of how she died?"

"It's as you probably would of expected, she died of blood loss, but with the ligature marks on her neck, it's almost like the assailant wanted us to think it was from hanging or strangulation"

"Okay, thank you"

"I'll look back over everything to see if I've missed anything, but thats all I have at the moment" Seungcheol nods.

"Okay, tell me if and when you find something"

"I will Seungcheol" Bora says, placing her clipboard down on her desk. "I sent stuff off to get tested, so they should be back soon as well"

"Okay,"

"Oh, one last thing, she had a tattoo on her wrist"

"A tattoo?" I ask, and Bora nods.

"It was a small one with the letters 'SM'"

"Okay, thank you for telling us, I'll make sure to ask about it" Seungcheol says, and Bora nods in return.

"Okay, I'll see you guys later"

"Bye Bora" I say quietly, but she still seems to hear.

"Bye (Y/N)" she smiles, and I smile back.

"Bye" Seungcheol says, soon walking out of the room. I quickly follow after him, and catch up so I was now walking beside him.

"Something doesn't add up" I state, "and I don't know if this is only me who thinks so"

"What do you mean?" Seungcheol asks, raising an eyebrow.

"If whoever was doing this to her was patching up her wounds, then why would they let her bleed out to death?"

"You make a good point"

"Everything seems to be so out of the ordinary" I exclaim, making a face to myself.

"We'll all figure this out, it's only a matter of time" Seungcheol says, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Well put whoever this person is behind bars for good" I nod and continue to think to myself.

"We will" I mumble, and look to the floor. Seungcheol laughs, and takes his hand from off of my shoulder.

"Come on, we gotta get back before they think we're at each other's throats" Seungcheol says, and I nod in response.

With that, we made our way back in silence, a silence different than our 'usual' silence, less awkward, more respectful, even if it didn't last for long, I'd enjoy this moment whilst it lasted, because Seungcheol being nice was different- and I liked this different.

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