#{int;bailey}

[brckensociety]

{ open to m/f/nb {selective with f) | plot: bailey is a surgeon, your muse is hurt and has shown up on her doorstep for help (details of what happened and why they didn't go to a hospital is up to you!) | any connection welcome, assume away. legit go wild. t*boo/forbidden also welcomed. | please read rules before interacting. }

it was the middle of the night and bailey had been awake researching a new technique for an upcoming surgery, her mind hyperfocused on getting as much information as she could possibly absorb before sleep took her by force. when she heard the doorbell of her apartment ring her brows furrowed, unsure who would be at her door at this time of night. it wasn't until the doorbell rang again, seemingly over and over, frantically, that she placed down her book with a sigh. when she reached her door and opened it her eyes widened with shock, "what the fuck?!" she spoke out in a whispered tone as she looked at the other who was clearly hurt. "what the hell happened?" the redhead queried as she ushered them inside.

[rcmandaniels-archive]

→ frontier foods. closed for @draslihanxfahri-bailey

It was one of the good days. Roman could sense if the day would be good or bad the minute he woke up, and his intrinsic knowledge of this hadn't let him down in years. And because it was a good day, he decided to take advantage to get some chores done. With a list written in Ophelia's careful script in hand, he decided to get grocery shopping ticked off the list, re-introducing himself to the store that he would regularly come to with Kaya when living together, for no other reason than to just be with her, and help get items off tall shelves.

As he rounded the corner, he noticed a woman attempting to grab something and, thinking of Kaya and good karma and all, stepped on over. "I can help you, if you like?" Left arm already reaching to grab whatever she needed, but pausing on the off-chance she had a short temper and told him to piss off. "I mean, my mum would probably kill me if I left someone struggle this way, she always said to use my height to others' advantage." Roman wasn't the tallest man by any means, but compared to his own family, he was basically the Green Giant.

[phoebeyates-archive]

→ aslihan’s office, the natural history museum. closed for @draslihanxfahri-bailey

Bridget Jones once proclaimed that “it is a truth universally acknowledged that when one part of your life starts going okay, another falls spectacularly to pieces.” Phoebe, upon her first viewing of the movie, didn’t really get what Bridget meant (but of course, the brunette was also seven and a majority of what was said in the movie flew over her head) but now, two decades on, she got it. Things with Foster were back to how they were (maybe even better, but there was a slight chance of her romanticizing things), and whilst the unopened box was still shoved in the back of her closet, it wasn’t plaguing her every waking thought anymore.

Work, however, was a bit more disastrous. 

Phoebe knew it was her fault, that the higher-ups had been signaling Aslihan out, pulling her up for the most arbitrary of reasons. Plus, the unexpected parcel had given the interns and other staff more ammunition to belittle Phoebe, and it was very reminiscent of middle school all of a sudden. She had just been down in the Archives, getting herself into an argument with one of the workers there, who sneered at her and told her to ‘cry to mommy about it’. And though extremely tempted, she was proud of herself for not swinging at them, instead stomping up to Aslihan’s office and throwing herself on her self-designated couch. “I hate it here.” She confessed, face buried in the decorative cushions. “I want to set all their fucking twigs and dinosaur bones on fire.”

[baileyboo2016]

I AM GONNA MALFUNCTION FOREVER BECAUSE OF WHAT MY DAD JUST SENT ME.

[blcssom]

closed starter for @gothwives + open m/f/nb based on: spotify starter call

oh mirror in the sky // what is love // can the child within my heart rise above // can i sail through the changin' ocean tides // can i handle the seasons of my life // well i've been afraid of chaingin' // 'cause i've built my life around you - landslide || stevie nicks

they've been dancing around the topic for almost a week now... he can almost hear them gearing up to break the ice, but it's usually followed by a deep sigh of regret. so, as per usual, nick takes the lead. ".... so i heard from your mom you got some fancy job offer?"

[brckensocietyarch]

{ closed starter | @falscgcds | based on: this }

"What on Earth happened to you?!" Bailey spoke out having come home to see the other with blood splattered across their face. "Are you hurting? Are you okay?" She immediately dropped her things, making her way over to them to assess where the blood had come from.

[pupsmailbox]

TECHNOLOGY ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　admin. ajax. alexa. am. atari. audio. auto. bailey. binary. blank. blu. blue. bluesse. browser. browsette. bug. byte. cache. calware. chip. circe. click. clicker. clickie. clicky. cloud. coda. code. codette. codie. cody. computette. crypt. cursor. cy. cyber. cybernet. cybernetica. cyberweb. cypher. cypherre. data. dell. digi. digitalia. digitelle. digitesse. disc. dot. electronica. electronique. emoticon. emoticonnie. fax. file. gig. gizmo. glitch. glitche. glitchesse. glitchette. graphique. hacker. hal. halware. hijack. index. informationne. intelligette. internette. interweb. java. javascript. juno. key. link. linuxe. lotus. lovebytes. mac. mal. malakai. malware. malwaria. memorette. memorie. meta. mic. micah. mickey. morphe. mouse. mousette. myspace. nano. neo. net. netette. nett. netty. paige. pascal. payton. peyton. pixel. programatha. programette. programme. pulse. reboot. rom. router. ruby. sam. sammy. screene. screenette. sean. shock. solitaire. spy. static. stutter. talia. tap. tecca. tech. techette. tessa. tetris. trojan. troubleshoot. ts. user. vir. virus. virusse. volt. vyrus. webbe. wheatley. whirr. widget. will. wirehead. wiresse. zap. zett. zetta. zip.

PRONOUNS ⌇　:-)/:-D. ^^/^^. ai/ai. alt/alt. anti/antivirus. arc/archive. audio/audio. bat/battery. beep/beep. beep/boop. bit/bit. bit/byte. blue/blue. board/board. bright/bright. brow/browser. browser/browser. brr/brr. bu/bug. bug/bug. buzz/buzz. byt/byte. byte/byte. c/cpu. charge/charger. cir/circuit. cli/click. click/clack. click/click. click/scroll. co/code. code/code. color/color. com/com. com/computer. comp/computer. compute/computer. computer/computer. cor/corrupt. corrupt/corrupt. CPU/CPU. crash/crash. cre/creeper. crtl/crtl. cy/cyber. cyb/cyber. cyber/cyber. da/data. data/data. delete/delete. di/disk. dig/digital. digi/digi. digi/digital. digital/digital. dra/drag. e/exe. electronic/electronic. enter/enter. er/error. err/error. error/error. exe/exe. fi/file. file/file. gi/gif. gli/glitch. glit/glitch. glitch/glitch. graphic/graphic. hac/hacker. hack/hack. hard/hardware. head/phone. hij/hijacker. ho/home. info/info. information/information. int/internet. intelligent/intelligence. intelligent/intelligent. inter/net. internet/internet. it/it. jpg/jpg. key/board. key/cap. key/key. key/keyboard. key/keylogger. lag/lag. lap/laptop. ligh/light. linux/linux. load/load. log/login. main/mainframe. mal/malware. me/media. memory/memorie. mon/monitor. mou/mouse. nano/nano. net/net. net/network. o_o/>_>. org/org. over/overwrite. page/page. pix/pix. pix/pixel. pixel/pixel. plu/plug. png/png. pop/popup. port/port. pow/power. pro/program. program/program. ram/ram. ran/ransom. reboot/reboot. reload/reload. res/restore. ret/retro. route/router. sca/scan. scr/scroll. scre/screen. scre/screencap. scree/screen. screen/screen. scri/script. script/script. sentient/sentience. shift/shift. site/site. skip/skip. soft/software. spa/spam. space/space. spy/spyware. stop/stop. te/tech. tech/nology. tech/tech. technology/technology. tou/touchpad. txt/txt. typ/type. upload/upload. user/user. vi/viru. vi/virus. vir/virtual. web/page. web/web. whir/whir. wi/wire. win/dow. win/window. wire/wire. wire/wired. zip/zip . ⌨ . ☣ . ⚙ . ⚠ . 🎞 . 🎨 . 🎭 . 🎮 . 🎵 . 👀 . 👁 . 💔 . 💡 . 💢 . 💣 . 💳 . 💵 . 💻 . 💽 . 💾 . 💿 . 📀 . 📱 . 🔇 . 🔈 . 🔉 . 🔊 . 🔋 . 🔌 . 🔎 . 🖥 . 🖱 . 🗡 . 🗯 . 🛠 . 🧿 .

[rollingsins]

Quinn Bailey Must Die, p5

P1 | P2 | P3 | P4 | P5

summary: Tara deals with the fallout of Sam leaving. all hers universe.

warnings: (+18), Tara is (was) Ghostface, language. Implied sexual content.

pairing: tara carpenter x reader, sam carpenter x quinn bailey

word count: 2.6k

a/n: enjoy babes! let me know your thoughts, as always

The first thing Tara does when Sam closes the door is tighten her shoulders and barge into Sam’s bedroom.

You follow, hastily. 

Watch as she reaches for Sam’s clothing rack and tries to pry the lot off the rack and onto the floor. 

“Tara, stop.” You grab her hand as Sam’s jackets crumple to the ground. 

“Don’t, babe,” Tara says, her voice sharp, “This is all going in the dumpster. Don’t try and stop me.” 

“She’ll be back in a week,” You protest, “She’s going to need this stuff.” 

“I don’t care,” Says Tara, rounding on you, “She can walk around naked for all I care. She’s picking Quinn over me. Her own sister.” 

“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?” You ask, voice quiet, “We did go behind her back and try to seduce… whatever Quinn is to her. It makes sense she wants space.” 

“She’s done this before,” Tara growls, “When she was fifteen. She picked her deadbeat boyfriend over us. Over me.” 

Before you can stop her she’s pried Sam’s cluster of picture frames off her dresser and into a trash can. 

You sigh. 

And let her tear through Sam’s room like a Doberman off the leash. You’ll fix it yourself tomorrow. 

You sink into Sam’s mattress and watch your girlfriend. 

Her hands are shaky. Her eyes are watering, though you know she’s too proud to let the tears fall in front of you. 

She’s hurting. 

“Why don’t we call Dr Colmann?” You suggest, voice gentle, “She always makes you feel better, babe.” 

“I have to finish this tonight,” Says Tara, “As long as her shit’s in here, I won’t be able to sleep.” 

You bite your lip. 

“Let’s call Dr Colmann,” You suggest, “And if you still want her stuff gone after the call, I’ll help you myself.” 

Dr Colmann had given you her personal number for Tara related emergencies. 

“Tara is a special client,” Dr Colmann had answered after you’d raised an eyebrow, “And I want to make sure you can come to me if you need it.” 

You had never used it. 

Until now. 

“Dr Colmann?” You ask, a little anxious. 

You’d finally convinced Tara to sit, and firmly planted yourself in her lap so she can’t get up and continue her tirade through Sam’s room. 

“We need your help.” 

-

It’s a little after twelve in California, and Dr Colmann looks as if she’s just gotten back from the gym. 

You apologize - taking a work call on a Sunday afternoon seems criminal. Even if it’s your only option. 

But Dr Colmann doesn’t seem to mind.

“What’s going on, Tara?” Asks Dr Colmann, “You seem a little on edge.” 

You rub her back. 

Press the softest of kisses to the side of her head.

“My sister is abandoning me,” Tara says, voice a little fraught. 

“She’s leaving for a week,” You correct, hastily, “We had a small disagreement.” 

“What kind of disagreement?” Dr Colmann asks. 

“That isn’t important,” Says Tara. 

Dr Colmann sighs. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t want to be honest with me Tara.” 

Tara bites her lip. 

“I don’t like the girl she’s seeing,” Says Tara, “It’s the Quinn girl. The one we told you about last month.” 

“The roommate who tried to pursue you?” Asks Dr Colmann, taking notes.

Tara nods. 

“So the fight was about this girl?” Dr Colmann asks. 

Tara hesitates. 

“Kind of,” She says, “I thought… I thought maybe if tried to seduce her, I could show Sam she wasn’t serious about her.” 

Dr Colmann pauses. 

“And do you really think that was the best thing to do, Tara?” She asks, sounding skeptical. 

“I didn’t have a choice,” Says Tara, “She backed me into a corner.” 

Dr Colmann sighs. 

“Tara,” She says, gently, “Have you tried apologizing to your sister?” 

Tara frowns. 

“Apologize?” She asks, as if the word is foreign to her, “For trying to help her?” 

“Tara, trying to seduce the person your sister is interested in, is wrong, regardless of your intentions.” Says Dr Colmann, sternly. 

“And what about her?” Tara asks, heatedly, “It’s okay for Sam to date someone who tried to break up my relationship?” 

“No,” Says Dr Colmann, “If you’re not comfortable with who Sam is seeing, Tara, you should express that to her. In a calm, and non confrontational manner. You can lay out your reasoning and explain why you don’t think her seeing Quinn is a good idea.” 

Dr Colmann hesitates. 

“But, at the end of the day, Tara, you can’t control who Sam sees or who she dates. We’ve talked about this, Tara - you don’t have control over other people’s actions. You need to make peace with that.” 

Tara lets out a discontented grunt. 

You squeeze her shoulders. 

“Start with an apology,” Dr Colmann suggests, “Call Sam and tell her you’d like to apologize in person for your behavior. Start a dialogue, but remember Tara - calm and collected. Telling somebody they can’t do something only leads to them wanting to do it more.”

“Thanks, Dr Colmann,” You say, rubbing Tara’s back, “Should we reach out right away?” 

“It can’t hurt,” Says Dr Colmann, “But she’ll likely need some time. Give it to her. Tell her you’re sorry, and let her come to you.” 

-

Dr Colmann isn’t wrong about Sam needing time. 

She won’t answer Tara’s calls, so Tara texts her. 

“Really sorry, Sam. I don’t know what came over me,” Tara reads from her phone, lip between her teeth, “I just wanted to protect you from her as I think she’s going to hurt you. I crossed the line and I know what I did was wrong. I’m hoping maybe tomorrow we can meet up and I can apologize in person.” 

She looks up at you, a little shy. 

“Is it okay?” She asks. 

You kiss her. 

“It’s perfect,” You assure, “Sam will appreciate it.”

Tara curls into your side, the moment she presses send. 

She’s a little calmer, after the call with Dr Colmann. Sam’s wardrobe hasn’t been touched, and you’d managed to sneak in and replace all the things Tara had ripped down. 

“I hate this,” Tara admits, nuzzling her head into your neck, “I hate feeling powerless.” 

You press a kiss to her forehead.

“Remember what Dr Colmann said,” You say, “You can’t control everything, babe.” 

“Can we watch Alien?” Tara asks, blinking up at you, “It always makes me feel better.”

You kiss her. 

“I will never understand how horror movies calm you down,” You say, with a sigh, “But of course we can.” 

-

Sam doesn’t text back until the morning. 

“Thanks for apologizing, Tara,” Tara reads out, eyebrows crinkled, “I need some time. I’ll be back next week and we can talk.” 

Tara frowns, dropping her phone. 

“It’s not all bad, babe,” You soothe, reaching out to wrap an arm around her, “Dr Colmann said she’d need space.” 

“Yeah,” Tara says, resigned. 

Then, she flops back into the couch. 

“Sam thinks I don’t love her,” She says, after a long moment, “Because I never say it.” 

You tilt your head. 

“Babe.” You say, dropping down to her side. You brush a strand of hair out of her face, 

“I do love her,” Says Tara, sounding unhappy, “But she doesn’t love me. Not the real me.” 

Her eyes are sad, vulnerable. 

You kiss her, deeply. 

“It’s difficult,” You say, choosing your words carefully, “But Sam loves you. For better or for worse. You’re her baby sister.” 

“She left before,” Tara accuses, “She’d do it again. I just know it.” 

“Hey,” You say, pressing your lips to her cheek, “That’s behind you now, remember? We’re in therapy.” 

It doesn’t placate her. 

“How can you love somebody you don’t even know?” She asks, a little mournful. 

“I loved you before I knew,” You say, nudging your nose against hers, “And I love you after. Always.” 

“That’s different,” Says Tara, biting her lip, “You’re in love with me. You’re the exception. Do you really think Chad or Mindy or Liv or Sam would stay around if they knew the truth?” 

“They’ll never know,” You promise, “Baby, I know it’s hard, but you can’t live your life being scared of rejection. Sam loves you. Your friends love you. You’re a different person than you were before. You’re a good friend. And you’ve been holding back from Sam, but I know you’ll be a good sister too. The best sister. Just like you’re the best girlfriend.” 

You kiss her once more. 

“You just have to let yourself be vulnerable,” You say, “Let Sam know you love her. And the rest will fall in place.” 

-

Quinn’s apartment is beautiful. 

High ceilings, expensive artwork, luxury furniture. 

It makes Sam’s head spin. 

“You can be louder, if you want,” Quinn says, biting her lip, only moments after Sam had cum hard with her hand against her mouth, “This place is sound-proofed. Dad made sure when he bought it.” 

“Why did you ever live in that dump with my sister?” Sam wonders, sprawled out across Quinn’s pillows, “This place is great.” 

Quinn laughs, and curls herself into Sam’s side. 

“I was trying to be independent,” She admits, “I was trying not to live off my Dad’s money.” 

Sam tilts her head. 

“Did your Dad invent the toaster or something?” She wonders aloud.

Quinn presses a sly kiss to her lips.

“He’s done well for himself,” She admits, “He’s a detective. A very senior Detective.” 

“And here I was thinking government employees lived paycheck to paycheck.” Sam mumbles. 

“Most do,” Quinn admits, “But like I said - he’s done well for himself.” 

“Do you see him much?” Sam asks. 

Quinn pauses. 

“Not really,” She says, “My brother - he’s the problem child. Dad spends most of his time wrapped up with Ethan.”

“Little brother?” Sam asks, head tilted. Quinn nods. 

“The youngest… they’re always the problem kids.” Sam says, knowing from experience. 

“I know you can’t choose your family,” Says Quinn, “But man, don’t you sometimes wish you could?” 

Sam thinks. 

“I would still choose Tara,” She says, voice a little soft, “She’s a brat, yeah. But it’s only because my parents never taught her how to behave. They failed her. Heck, they failed me too.” 

Quinn smiles.

“That’s sweet,” She says, “I love how you love her. Even after what she tried to do.”

Sam shifts, suddenly uncomfortable. 

“She was just looking out for me,” Sam says, “In her own way. In her Tara way.” 

“She doesn’t need to,” Quinn promises. She leans over and kisses Sam, “I’m crazy about you. You know that.” 

Butterflies bloom in Sam’s stomach. 

“I know it’s only been a couple of weeks,” Quinn says, nudging her nose against Sam’s, “But I’m falling for you. Hard.” 

Sam blinks. 

And the butterflies evaporate. 

Uneasiness replaces them. 

“Quinn,” She says, slowly, “Like you said, it’s only been a couple of weeks-” 

“I know,” Quinn says, rubbing a hand over her hip, “Sorry, I don’t love you or anything. Not yet. I just wanted you to know I’m falling.” 

“Alright,” Sam says, voice even, “I just- it’s not-”

“Stop freaking out,” Quinn says, and kisses her softly, “I only wanted to say I like you. Don’t think so hard, Carpenter.” 

Sam relaxes. 

“I like you, too.” She says. 

And Quinn kisses her. 

-

Sam stays at Quinn’s place longer than a week. 

It’s two weeks at first, then three. 

Quinn’s kisses are ample reason to stay. Tara’s texts, each a little more desperate than the other, remind Sam of why she can’t go back. 

She loves her sister. 

But Sam’s been suffocating her. 

Dinners, breakfasts. She does Tara’s laundry and cleans up after her. Makes her bed. Helps her with homework. 

She’s been trying to replace their mother. 

Sam loves her sister, but a mother she is not. 

Sisters need boundaries. Sam needs boundaries. 

And so she calls Tara to explain. 

“We can talk,” Sam promises over the phone, “Tonight, if you want. I’ll come to the apartment. But Tara, you should know I’m planning on staying with Quinn. It’s better for both of us if I stay with Quinn.” 

“I miss you, Sam,” Tara says, voice unhappy, “I promise I’ll be nicer. I’ve been talking to a therapist, she’s helping me. YN and I won’t even fuck when you’re home - if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Sam bites her lip. 

“That’s - sweet Tara,” Says Sam, “But that isn’t the problem. Not the whole problem. We’re adults now, both of us. Sisters aren’t designed to live together, forever.” 

“Not forever,” Presses Tara, “But for right now? We should be together.” 

Sam sighs. 

Quinn’s pouring her a glass of wine, wearing a particularly low-cut top. 

Sam’s gaze veers down. 

“I’ll speak to you, tonight,” Sam promises, mouth dry, “Love you, T.” 

Tara hesitates. 

“Speak to you, tonight.” She echoes, voice hollow.

-

“Ugh, why do you have to go and speak to your sister?” Quinn murmurs, a little later, when Sam is a sweaty mess under her. 

“Because she’s my sister.” Sam reminds, a little pointed, as she leans up to kiss Quinn.

“She tried to seduce me.” Quinn says, a little sharp, “I think the silent treatment is more than effective, here.” 

“You tried to seduce her first.” Says Sam, retracting herself from Quinn’s grip, “Relax, Quinn. It’s time I patched things up with her.” 

“You’re coming back after, right?” Quinn asks,  little on edge, “You’re not moving back in? Because you can stay here as long as you want.” 

Sam kisses her. 

“I’ll be back,” She promises, “But I need to borrow a jacket. I left mine back at the house.” 

Quinn’s grip is tight. For a moment, Sam wonders if Quinn will let her leave at all. But then she releases her grip on Sam’s waist. 

“Closet,” She says, with a murmur, “You know, you wearing my clothes is kind of hot.” 

Sam kisses her once more. 

Sam rifles through Quinn’s closet, a little mindless. It’s expansive. From denim to leather, seemingly Quinn has it all. Sam works through them all. She settles on a bare-bones black leather jacket that’ll go with her jeans. She pries it off the rack and slips it around her shoulders.

But then, she notices something buried near the bottom of her wardrobe. 

Her brow creases. 

It’s a picture. 

Quinn she recognises - an older man that must be her Dad. A younger guy that must be her brother, Ethan. 

And then she sees him. 

To say the wind is knocked out of her is an understatement. 

She recognises him immediately. Curly brown hair. Piercing blue eyes she stared into hundreds of times. 

Eyes she’d seen flutter closed for the last time. 

It’s Richie. 

Quinn knows Richie. 

Sam panics. 

She stumbles back, takes out Quinn’s mirror in her wake. Her chest heaves. Her eyes prick with tears. 

Out, her mind screams, you need to get out.

But Quinn’s all over her before she gets the chance. 

Sam flinches as Quinn’s arms loop around her waist. She reacts immediately. 

She pries herself out of Quinn’s arms and turns around as if she’s just been burned. 

“Sam?” Quinn asks, looking startled, “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” 

Sam’s eyes are wide. 

Quinn’s eyes flicker down to the bottom of the wardrobe. To Richie. 

Her eyes widen, almost mournful. 

“Oh, Sam,” She says, softy, “I really wish you hadn’t seen that.” 

It happens in a flash. 

One moment Sam is backing up, against the wall. The next, Quinn’s pressing her to it, hand over her mouth. 

“Shh, baby,” Quinn says, as Sam screams, “It’s okay. I can explain everything. But you need to stop screaming. Nobody can hear you now.”

[helyiios]

On danse pas

Or that one time Benji went on a solo mission.

Benji says “lol” and Ethan loses his entire fucking mind.

He’s staring at his friend through a screen, watches as he’s being reviewed by Alan Hunley, who looked extremely displeased, by the way, and he can’t help but want to make the room explode.

Or something.

“Did you just say “lol,” agent Dunn ?” the Secretary asks, closing his eyes slowly, “or did I mishear that ?”

“I don’t know what else to say ?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You could explain to me what the fuck happened during your mission, for example. Just for example.”

“Nothing went wrong with this mission.”

Ethan grimaces. With a kill count of fifty three, three civilians, a building in flames, collapsed on itself, and a few people straight up murdered, he wouldn’t say that nothing went wrong. He loves Benji, he really does, he thinks he’s a fantastic guy, truly, but they had to stop sending him on solo missions. Honestly.

“You caused an explosion in Central London,” Hunley states, spreading papers on the table, “do you know how many people got hurt ?”

“Some ?”

“Seventy six. With fifty three dead.”

“Don’t think that’s the biggest I can go,” Benji offers with a genuine smile, and Ethan slams his own head against the wall. “No but I mean, sir, no offence, but I didn’t let that building explode because I had planned it. They had extremely dangerous weapons stored there, and I can’t exactly steal a PHASR in my little purse and come back to the IMF.”

“So your plan of action was to destroy them. By fucking up the entire locals of ARCH.tech.”

“Yeah ? I mean, I stole the blueprints first, didn’t you read the report ?”

“Benjamin Dunn,” Hunley warns, voice low and dangerous, “you’re going to have to use another tone with me.”

“You’re acting like I did something crazy ! Personally, I only killed, like, ten people. Max ! The rest was the explosion.”

“Do you know how angry MI6 is about this ?”

“Well maybe if they hadn’t thrown me out back when I tried to get in they wouldn’t have had to worry about this,” Benji mumbles petulantly, crossing his arms. “Look, I’m sorry for the deaths. I didn’t mean it !”

“You’re not sorry, you don’t care !”

“It’s not like I can care about everyone in this world,” he protests with a grimace. “I’m not Mother Theresa.”

Hunley holds back a scream of frustration, choosing to rub his hands on his face instead.

One thing about Benji Dunn, is that he was efficient. When with Team Hunt, he proved to be resourceful and a master at tech related support. When alone…

Well, his first solo mission had been a breeze. He’d done his part, had come back, gotten slapped on the back, and all was great. Peachy, even. So he’d gotten cleared to get sent on more solo missions. Which always ended…correctly.

Until this one.

Where he’d gone completely looney, and pushed the big red button, and gotten a review as a thanks. And he had had the gall to be displeased about it.

“You were on the news, Benji !”

“Lol,” Benji says out loud again, like an actual fucking lunatic, “yeah, I saw. The BBC. I actually watched it from a bar. Made me blush.”

“Why aren’t you taking this seriously ?!”

��You’re making this a bigger mess than it is !”

“YOU BLEW UP A FUCKING BUILDING IN CENTRAL LONDON !” Hunley screeches, and Benji recoils a little, puckering his lips annoyedly.

“Bad foundations, what can I say.”

“I’m going to get you pulled away from field activities.”

“You can’t,” Benji notes, wiggling his index at him with a laugh, “you need me too much.”

“You’re over estimating your worth.”

“That’s mean.”

“Look,” the Secretary sighs, clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth, “can you at least admit you went a bit overboard with the whole thing ?”

The agent shrugs.

“Sure, if that makes you happy. At the end of the day, I picked up on Bailey’s fuckup at ARCH and I got the info needed. And destroyed their weapons.”

“Ah, yes, but agent Bailey did not kill fifty three people.”

“There’s no free lunch,” Benji just says, visibly very little interested in the whole thing. “Also, I made a very clear a nice report on the whole incident. You can’t even call me lazy.”

“Yes, your report was good.” A pause. “What ? That’s not the point ! Does your team know ?”

A frown.

“Why would they ? They’re not concerned by it.”

“Thought it would shock them.”

“I don’t really care,” Benji whines, “I did my bloody job and I’m getting lectured over it !”

“Well,” Hunley finally says, giving up completely, “do try not to do something like that again. Please.”

“Do you want us to, like, pinky promise ?” he offers, holding out his hand with a crooked pinky finger.

“Get out of my office, Dunn.”

The agent bursts out laughing but gets up all the same, dusting his shirt carefully.

“Oh, and Benji ?”

“Yeah ?”

“Why did you fail the MI6 entrance exam ?”

A pause.

“Psych tests,” he grimaces.

Hunley tips his head back, face in his hands.

“Yeah. Figures.”

[brckensociety]

tag drop | bailey lavender, blair owens, blake gilmore & buffy drake

[rcmandaniels-archive]

→ hot cocoa stop. closed for @theobailey

It was one of the bad days. Roman grit his teeth and powered through, despite the rapid drop in temperature overnight making his pain just feel more than usual. It didn’t help that it was his day off from the station, and the record store didn’t need him for another few hours, or that Ophelia was busy, thus leaving him on his own. Perhaps he needed to get some friends, he decided. Or a hot chocolate, noticing the ever moving coca truck in his peripheral. Hot chocolate was an easier goal anyway. Especially now he knew Elijah was here, which made more sense than Roman coming back, he supposed. But now what could he do? He wasn’t the paranoid type usually, but depending on how long the former bandmate had been in town, he’d have friends or alliances. Maybe they’d cast Roman out. He was too lost in these thoughts, he didn’t realize it was his turn in line until there was a polite tap on his shoulder. “Shit, sorry. I…do you want to go ahead? I haven’t quite decided and I feel like if I fuck up making this decision, the rest of the day will go to pot.”

[phoebeyates-archive]

→ starview drive-in theater, friday 5th april 2024. closed for @draslihanxfahri-bailey

“Can I tell you a secret?” Phoebe had leaned over from where she was in the backseat, squished between Rhia and Alex, thankful that the elder of Asli’s daughters was momentarily distracted to really care what her “big sister” was confessing into her mom’s ears. “I didn’t really like animated movies growing up, something about talking animals freaks me out. Also, I thought Migration would be more of a March of the Penguins deal.” Despite being a certified couch potato with the TV on almost 24/7, cartoons weren’t exactly the desired viewing in the Yates’ household growing up. Why enjoy the rags to riches tale of Cinderella when you could get the riches to rags saga of The Simple Life after all? “Should we take a snack break before it starts?”

[dragon-communion]

I was curious if you had any thoughts on the Golden Centipede being explicitly a Golden Order symbol (and only being found where Radagon statues were if I remember right ) considering Godwyn and the Curse Mark?

I actually do have some thoughts! I need to compile the information on relevant items and do an analysis kind of like what I've been doing for St. Trina. Items involved are going to be the Sacrificial Twig, the Golden Centipede, and Deathroot. Possibly more, especially since I have a LOT of theories about the Prince of Death's Staff that go wildly into left field.

In my defense though: it seems like runes are heavily implied to Be or Make children, kind of like the base building blocks of sex cells or something? And with that thought in my head, the Mending Rune of Death is basically half Ranni and half Godwyn. It's more complicated than that, but like. If I recall right the Prince of Death's Staff is faith/int, which is a bizarre combination, and my best justification for it pre-Radagon would be Ranni's sorcerous influence on Godwyn's corpse.

Anyway I got sidetracked from the original question. Given that the Golden Centipede is mostly used to make items that destroy Those Who Live In Death, it really makes the archaeologist in me wonder when the centipedes started appearing. They wouldn't have been used to hunt the undead before Godwyn's death, right? Probably? So could the centipedes have theoretically spawned from Godwyn's death somehow? It's hard to say but I plan on thinking about it very hard.

Especially because you can get several from the Church of the Minor Erdtree, and I have so many questions about that church. There is something Up With It, between the blooming guardians buried around it, the cookbook and seal you collect there, and the fact that the Minor Erdtree it theoretically honors is on the opposite side of the Leyndell outer wall bailey. Which just so happens to be the one Godwyn is buried under, by the way.

The church dedicated to the tree Godwyn is buried under also happens to feature a very interesting monologue from Marika about the need to question and reexamine the Golden Order. There is something up there and I want to figure it out.

[blcssom]

closed starter for @lvciddreamt based on this ! ( open to m/f/nb )

"and here i thought your mom was pulling one over on me when she said you'd come home for the holidays." which, to be fair, their mother always thinks they're coming home for the holidays and, in reality, their visits have been few and far between. "thought you'd outgrown us."

[brckensocietyarch]

tag drop | bailey lavender