#just in case but i mean she SAYS shes picking up the tab in the trailer so

[narzissenkreuz-ordo]

1.4 patch update be like

[1-800-local-slut]

Word of Advice...

Spencer Reid x Black! Fem! Pregnant! BAU! Reader

Spencer Reid Masterlist <3

Spencer and his fiancée are having a baby, and everyone has some advice for them.

I based this on JJ's pregnancy in season 4. This is basically the three times someone gave Spencer some advice about being a dad and his fiancé some advice, I cried writing this because of hormones y'all

Warnings: pregnancy, brief mention of sex, mention of a daddy kink, nothing really, fluff, twins

Request are also open if anyone wants to send anything!

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"You know, no matter how much you research it won't help when you have to actually hold the baby."

Spencer's head jerked up from his computer, no longer fidgeting with his nails and glanced over to Derek. Tabs upon tabs of information distracted him for the past hour. 'What to do as a first time dad', 'When to Start Expecting Cravings', 'How to Prevent Diaper Rash', 'Baby-proofing 101' and more.

The office buzzed softly behind him, other agents bustling around. It was a cool morning, nice and bright but had all the cold spring air Spencer had grown to love with the early call time of his job. Hotch was up in his office, Rossi was currently in the bathroom attempting to battle some sort of meal his stomach didn't agree with, Emily called in sick, JJ had a doctors appointment and wouldn't be in until later and Penelope was busying herself with some random task.

"Sorry, what?" Derek chuckled, his eyes ran over the mess on Spencer's desk. All of his case files, the parenting books he'd bought, the cups of coffee littering the area. How was this guy gonna keep his house clean with a kid running around in it?

"Morgan is right, even though he should be focused on his work. A word of advice, its good to get into the habit of picking up as you go along. Helps in the long run, you know." Hotch appeared from nowhere, in typical Hotch fashion with words of wisdom.

It was true. Spencer Reid, at the age of 27, got his girlfriend fiancée (he was still getting used to the title) pregnant. He got her pregnant, and then all the initial joy and imaginary world where everything would be perfect everything came slightly faded for him. He suddenly remembered him and his fiancée work a hard job with hard hours and an even harder toll on the mind. But he'd been trying not to focus on that, instead just trying to stay on the constant upside.

"Well yeah. I guess coffee cups all over the place aren't gonna be helpful in trying to keep the place tidy." Spencer chuckled, tapping one of the coffee cups on his desk with a random pen.

"I’ll say. You know your girl isn’t down with the nonsense, you better keep that house spick and span if you want to keep your ass clear of a beating. And if she's gonna be the one stressing with child care it'll be safer is you just stay clean and out the way.” Derek lamented. Hotch chuckled and Spencer glanced down at his hand while he grinned.

While he wouldn’t normally wear his engagement ring to work, they weren’t in the field today (hopefully) and he may have forgotten to taken it off this morning when they decided to stay in bed for an extra 45 minutes to sleep soundly. So what was the harm in wearing it? It was a little bit of his home life he would let seep into his daily life.

"Isn't it a little bit too early for you to be looking at all of this anyways? I mean I guess it's technically never too early but she's only what a month a long?" Derek asked, settling himself to sit on the corner of Spencer's desk.

Derek pushed an empty chip bag out the way, as he had settled on the one clear part of the desk. Spencer instinctively grabbed the bag and tossed it into the small trash bin he kept under his desk.

"It's never too early! I figured the better I prepare, the better I'll be able to help out when I'm home. I want to take as much paternity leave as I can, I want to be helpful when I'm home with her." He really should be attempting to clean. A stack of papers straightened, coffee cups gathered into one hand and tossed into the bin two at a time.

"Word of advice..." Hotch grimaced, as he tapped a coffee cup that sloshed and Spence had to grab to keep it from spilling all over his desk. "If you keep your desk as clean as you intend to keep your house, she'll be sending you back to work faster than you can imagine." With a ghost of a smile, Derek chuckled and ruffled Spencer's hair. Hotch smirked, seeing Spencer's mouth hanging open, and the two decided to take their leave to go back to doing the jobs they get paid so much for.

It was true, Spencer is usually a very clean guy but sometimes things get a bit messy. And usually, his fiancée wouldn't mind as long as it wasn't too outrageous but pretty soon those pregnancy hormones would come in full force. A shiver went down his spine as he imagined facing her anger at him leaving piles of books and coffee mugs all over the living room with a chubby baby sat on her hip. Picking up the last few coffee cups, Spencer straightened up his desk once more and finally tried to focus on work.

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"Morning JJ, you want some coffee?" Of course, I was joking. The joke was that JJ (who had recently returned from her maternity leave) was pleased that she could drink coffee again. If anyone bounced right back from pregnancy it was Jennifer Jareau. She looked flawless, glowing even more after her pregnancy. I can only pray to have that same miraculous recovery.

I couldn't drink coffee, the smell making me sick now. Of course I already couldn't have it, you know growing a baby, but it was far easier to resist the temptation.

A job like this has you running on caffeine, quitting cold turkey was like stopping cigarettes over night. Now I settled for some decaf tea, like peppermint or lemon and ginger.

"So, how's things going for the first term?" JJ chuckled, as I placed my spoon down on the counter and blew on the tea. This morning was some hot apple cider with cinnamon and I had a nice everything bagel on the side with some cream cheese spread over it.

"Well I've had too pee every sixty seconds, my tits are expanding with every second, and everything I eat makes me gain forty pounds thanks to bloating. So, great." The happy mood I had this morning was gone. I got to work and suddenly I wanted to put my fist through the steering wheel. And for some reason, Spencer's aftershave was making me want to cry. He just smelt so good, and he looked so good driving us to work, and lately he's just so handsome. Maybe it's knowing that we were about to have a bundle of joy?

"Mood swings getting you, huh?" JJ chuckled, turning around and heading to her desk as I followed behind.

"I'm ready to stop coming in now, I don't know how you were here up until you gave birth. You literally went into labor, I'm ready to go home now. Right now." I scoffed, and grumbled in irritation. I was even ready to stop wearing heels to work.

It felt like at any moment, I would just explode. That extra 45 minutes of sleep helped very, very little.

"Well, a word of advice, positive self talk is so helpful. I don't know why but when I was pregnant everything Will did drove me up a wall, I'm talking I wanted to take down his side of the bed only." JJ chuckled as we approached our desks. I slid into my seat, chuckling. JJ threw down her jacket, a push present from Will, and stretched.

Across the bull pen, Derek and Penelope walked past giggling about something. The two of them thick as thieves like always. The Sun had fully risen, and the world was wide awake. Cars honked outside, the team was wondering around on the floor and of course with no reason to be in the field today it was time to hunker down.

Sit down, do some paper work, the whole 9-5. I couldn't focus on the 9-5 though, hormones driving me to run into my fiancé's arms. To smell him, to hug him and remind him just how much I love him by showering him with hugs and kisses.

"How would you even take down his half?" I laughed as a blew on the cider and opening the file on my desk.

"I was looking at chainsaw's on Amazon, I had a plan I just needed to do it." JJ shrugged, opening her own case file and looking up at me through her lashes.

"Listen, my point is, you just have to try to talk to yourself. You're mind is vulnerable right now to all sorts of crazy emotions. You might suddenly hate everything about Spencer. You can randomly wake up and decide you hate him, you hate yourself, you hate the way your house looks, and that you should just take your baby and run away but you have to remember to keep yourself grounded in reality." With a soft sigh and took a sip of my tea, glancing over my shoulder to make sure he wasn't about to hear what I was about to say.

"I'm having the opposite issue with Spencer. I want to like, live in his skin." Was I ashamed to admit it? No. Was it slightly embarrassing to say it out loud? Yes.

"Oh! Okay! I mean, if that makes you happy!" It would make me very happy. Happier than this bagel was presently making me.

"No but I mean it. The mood swings will get worse as your first trimester goes on, you have no idea. Just try talking to yourself as often as possible, journal. Take care of yourself."

"Okay okay, I will. Thanks JJ, you're the best." With a shared smile, it was finally time to get some work done. Or just finish my bagel. Yeah, I'm just gonna finish my bagel.

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"No, mom you need to stay in the house. Yes, she's home with you, you will be fine. I saw my fiancée this morning, I don't miss her that badly in the two hours I've been outside. I'm at Target mom. Okay. Love you, bye mom."

Finally off the phone, Spencer slid his phone back into his back pocket. Diana was there for a visit, something she begged Spencer enough that she wore down his negotiating skills. So she got out of the ward for a fun few days.

And yes, Spencer did love the time he got to spend with his mom. He was more than happy to have her. But preparing for a baby, his fiancée either soul crushingly sad or horny or showing him things for their baby because in four months she'd be forcing it out of her body, and keeping your mom on her meds and your fiancée on her prenatal meds...sometimes a man needed to go to Target.

Sometimes a man needed to make breakfast, intentionally finish the milk and eggs, and suddenly have other errands that needed to be run outside.

Pushing through the aisles of Target, they all blended together. Everything just seemed crazy now. His fiancée was pregnant. She was pregnant, and their baby was coming in four months. She was nesting now, according to JJ.

When they found out she was pregnant she remained logical. She mapped out each important date, each doctors appointment, and left major shopping for a bit later. Spencer was the one buying mountains of books, crying over the minuscule things. Now though, she was crying over the little things, waking up with insane cravings (his favorite one to be woken up at 2:47 in the morning over? Buffalo sauce. Not like, buffalo wings. Buffalo sauce by itself but it needed to be hot and in a bowl and when Spencer protested she looked ready to rip him in two), and each day was filled with 'Spencer look at this, Spencer we need this, Spencer we HAVE to have this for our baby or we're shitty parents, Spencer, Spencer, Spencer.'

He was in heaven.

His wife couldn't get enough of him, literally sniffing him like he was a big ass pile of coke, his mom was over, it was almost time for their gender reveal (which Emily and Rossi somehow ended up in charge of planning but whatever), and he would be a literal daddy. Not in the sense that she called him but in the actual way.

Without even realizing it, he was in the baby section. His feet basically dragged him there. There was a little onesie, which would be the perfect size for his baby, a pair of baby booties randomly placed near by. But the couple made a promise to themselves, they wouldn't buy anything without each other unless they literally had to have it for their baby. Like the really cute onesie that Spencer found with a little 'R' on the front. 'R' for Reid. Soon they'd be Mr. and Mrs. Reid. Their baby's last name would be Reid.

His fingers ran over the soft cotton fabric of a pink onesie, that had the cutest little flowers stitched on the toes. He pictured it for a moment, a little chunky light skinned baby with curly hair and dark eyes. Brown eyes and chubby cheeks for his/her mommy and daddy to bombard with kisses.

With soft little fingers and little toes. With big eyes filled with innocence that was Spencer's job to guard, that he already knew he'd lay his life down to protect in a heart beat. A baby with a tiny heart beat that he'd be honored to hold. His baby. Their baby together that they made together.

Spencer didn't know when he started moving again, or when he weaved through the groups of people making their way around Target, but he was now on his way to the front and suddenly stopped in front of the cribs.

A large wooden crib with pretty little birds carved into the side. A mobile hung over the soft insides. There were some pillows inside and a mattress inside that looked nice and soft. On the left of it, a white crib, nothing on it but it looked nice and sturdy. And he knew they could probably find some nice designs to put all over the sides.

"First time?" A deep, scratchy voice pulled Spencer from his thoughts. It was an older man maybe 15-20 years older, with his wife standing close to him. Their cart was filled with toys and an abundance of blue. Blue onesies, blue bottles, blue pacifiers, blue toys, blue bibs, blue blankets, blue teething rings. If it was blue, it was in the cart. Clearly not their first time.

"Yeah. I mean, yes, my fiancée. She's pregnant." The smile and blush of happiness that came whenever Spencer told anyone came back. Heat filled his face with joy. Not nerves or anything just pure joy. He wished she was there with him. He wished she was with him looking at the cribs and holding his hand while they looked around. The couple chuckled at how pink he got before the wife began to speak.

"Word of advice, crib shopping without her is a good way to start a war. If he went crib shopping without me for out first I would've murdered him." People say such crazy shit when they don't know you're in law enforcement. Spencer knew she was kidding and couldn't care less but sometimes he wondered how different everyone around him would act if they knew he was FBI.

At work, when he walked onto a scene wearing that jacket with the letters big yellows letters on the back people steered just a bit more clear of him. I mean the FBI is literally the FBI. If he was a normal ass cop he'd be a bit intimidated as well.

"Don't worry, I'm sure she'd do the same thing. I'm just looking right now though. I don't want to do any part of this without her." Spencer would never be this open with strangers but some strange part of him, maybe the part that wished he had grandparents, had him telling this couple with kind eyes. And he of all people knew not to judge a book by its cover. Sometimes it was the nicest looking people who committed the most vile crimes.

"Oh, sometimes you'll have too. Of course, you would never make that choice but take it from 40 years of marriage and 38 years of parenting: sometimes you have to make the calls on your own. It doesn't seem likely now, but as a father you may have to make the best call for your child if your partner is unable to make any sort of choice." Huh.

He never thought about that. Well he should've. He's seen marriages torn apart (usually by the most stressful situation possible, your child being kidnapped or murdered or something) because of one parents choice. Usually it being glancing away for one second. But what if his kid needs something while she's out cold? Maybe she's fast asleep and his kid wants to go outside or something. God forbid it's something far more serious, Spencer would have to make a choice.

Maybe. Who knows. But it was true. Sometimes, Spencer would need to make a choice on his own. And although they promised to make any and all big choices together smaller things would require an adults attention.

The realization was too clear on his face because the man chuckled.

"I'm Clive and this is Judy, it was lovely to meet you young man." He extended a hand, and Spencer took it, returning the firm handshake.

"Spencer. It was nice to meet you too. Thank you for the advice."

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Music was one of the most emotional things in the world. It connected people, spoke to people, saved people. Right now it was destroying me. Right now, I could only hear my heart beat and the Billy Joel song that was wearing me down. The song had me in tears.

I was sitting at our bay window, Diana was watching Judge Judy and sitting calmly after she took her medication this morning with her breakfast. I had a blanket thrown over my legs, a pillow behind my back and my headphones strapped over my ears. She was softly breathing, clutching a pillow to her chest and fidgeting with the soft fringes around the edges of the pillow. From here, she looked a bit like Spencer, eyes focused on the screen with her head tilted slightly to the side. How much would our baby look my me? Or Spencer? Or even Diana, maybe his father or my parents? Anything was possible.

The soft rain pitter-pattered on the window and it just added to my mood. Was I sad? Was I happy? Bitter-sweet was the right word. How would I feel as our child grew before my very eyes? As I watched my baby get bigger with each passing moment? Before eventually they stood on their own two feet and walked completely on their own? I whimpered, an ache in my chest. Each day would be a beautiful reminder of what was to come.

I tried my hardest to keep it down, lest I bother my baby's grandmother. Oh god, grandmother. Diana would be a grandmother. The dam broke all over again and I buried my face in the sheet that was thrown over my knees

"A word of advice," I perked up when Diana's voice added to the mix of music, muffled sobbing and Judge Judy screaming at some random lady.

"When I was pregnant with Spencer, I was all over the place. I kept it to myself, I felt alone. I felt that because I was off my medication my feelings weren't normal but they completely are. Keeping my feelings inside, that turned into stress. Then resentment. For myself, for my husband and sadly for Spencer. Try talking to Spencer about your issues instead of letting them fester."

She read me like a book, what the fuck. Okay I hadn't been the most inconspicuous with my crying BUT dang I wasn't expecting that. I was actually planning to go into the bathroom because I didn't intend to disturb her. Something about being and FBI agent meant emotional constipation. Therefore, I didn't want to talk about my feelings on a deep level, and I did not want a whole thing to be made of it.

But Diana didn't look at me. She didn't turn around and look at me with pity or understanding, she didn't stand up and attempt to hug me, she didn't try questioning me on what was wrong. She just said it. She said it, blue eyes trained onto the TV as a commercial for mesothelioma played. I did my best to wipe tears from my eyes, and from down my face. Perhaps it was time to do away with the music. But in a way, I didn't want this feeling to end. I wanted to feeling to stay. The bitter-sweet feeling washing over me like a blanket. My heart hurt in the best possible way.

"Thank you Diana. I'm not upset, just...feeling things." With a chuckle as I wiped my eyes rubbed my no doubt puffy eyes.

"Well. As long as you're feeling something." Her eyes glued to the TV screen as Judge Judy came back on.

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"Hi everyone, thank you for coming. I just wanted to say thank you for coming to our lovely couples baby shower, Lord knows we all expected to be here sooner." Derek chuckled, raising his ginger ale to us, as we sat perched on the couch next to Rossi's pool. Chuckles and laughter went up all around us, Spencer laughed into his Pepsi. His smile lines crinkled under his sun glasses. God, he just looked kissed by the Sun. God (if there was one) took his time. He took his sweet ass time sculpting each little crease, crinkle, each hair on his head. And it truly paid off.

"Now, if the parents will just come to the front, we'll have them figure out the gender." Finally, Jesus. I loved Derek. I do! But my God could the man talk. And talk. Then talk some more. Maybe it was just the heat bothering me.

It was a sunny day, not too hot though just hot enough to annoy me. People in pink and blue bathing wandered around, Hotch was lounging in his blue swim trunks, Jack standing next to his dad and asking him a stream of questions (he was in that stage) had a the funniest amount of hot pink I've ever seen a child have on.

The wind gave a gentle breeze that offered slight reprieve from the heat as JJ and Will sipped virgin pina coladas from fun sippy cups in their matching pink swim suits. Henry was left with the rest of the kids in the play area with the baby sitters (the same company I planned on using for our wedding) and he arrived in a precious little pink ensemble with pink little sunglasses and sun hat.

And Penny, who could ever forget the darling Penny, who was coming back from the bathroom, with pink hair dye and basically everything else on her body. Even pink eyeshadow. I felt put to shame, thinking my all pink get up was a lot. Spencer had on a blue buttoned up shirt only for the sake of possible opposing sides.

Emily and Rossi (the only people who knew the gender) both wore black swim suits as they sat at the bar. Both giving us no clues at all to the babies gender. Honestly, this entire thing was a bit too big for a regular baby shower.

But we weren't setting any forest fires. Just spending a lot of money on our first child. And with the money we make, of course our children would be pampered each step of the way. No expense needed to be spared. And Spencer, easy going as it is, allowed me to handle the planning for our baby shower (as much as Emily and David allowed me) along with planning our wedding.

The bar, custom drink menu I created, the baby sitting company for all of our friends to bring their kids (honestly this is a small practice run for our wedding), catering company, the pool toys, the kiddie pool Rossi let us set up, and the goodie bags. And Spencer showed up, looking perfect as usual.

Rising to his feet, Spencer gave me a hand and pulled me up from my seat. We waddled (I waddled, Spencer pushed through the small crowd) through the waves of folks who came to see us today (or just came for free food) and eventually climbed to the front.

Looking out at the sea of faces, I almost cried again. I felt Emily place a palm on my shoulder and I wiped my tears before they could fall down. She handed Spencer and I both ice picks, Rossi directing the videographer and the photographer (a personal gift from him). Two black balloons, held in place by David and Emily.

Two black balloons that held out entire future. Two black balloons meant more to me than I thought was humanly possible. My heart beat pounded, as Derek said something about a countdown. The crowd began counting down from ten, as if a countdown was enough for the most important moment of my life, my hands getting sweatier by the moment. Spencer gripped my hand and I glanced over.

Ten...

And I realized then Spencer was terrified as I was.

Nine...

But we were terrified together.

Eight...

And we'd feel everything together from the moment this baby came

Seven...

No matter what happened, no matter how many faces we saw before us right now, it was Spencer and me, and our baby. And maybe one day, more of our babies.

Six...

My soon to be husband, and my child. My eyes welled up again, and Derek made a joke about mom crying early. I'd have to curse him later for being so funny. Our little family was no longer just him, I, Diana and my parents, who were in matching blue outfits watching in anticipation.

Five...

My tears and heart beat combined sounded like the ocean thrumming in my ears and Spencer chuckled nervously and stared down at his flip flops.

Four...

Almost...

Three...

Almost right at my future, the rest of my life.

Two...

Jesus just get to one!

One...

I nearly froze from fear but pushed the ice pick into the balloon, and a sprinkle of pink fell over me. I screamed, my heart soared and I jumped onto Spencer with joy and people clapped an cheered. My mom screamed, literally sobbing as she fell to her knees.

A girl. A girl, to love, and care for, and teach. I wouldn't have cared, either way I wasn't worried but I had always wanted a baby. To have a girl. To love a daughter was truly a gift.

Spencer stood stalk still, like he was a statue and he a terrified grin crossed his face. I saw Rossi nod as Derek chuckled. There was a man holding up a sign, right in front of us with a giant '2' written in pink. Right in front of Spencer, no matter he saw it first.

"Uh oh, Dad's looking a bit- oh my god, oh my god!" And Spencer was flying backwards into Hotch and Rossi.

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"Oh, you can see him start to look a bit pale right there." Penelope narrated to his mother, who they were showing the video too on face time. Spencer was now sitting up right on the living room couch and sipping a ginger ale with trembling hands.

Spencer Reid was having twins. Could his life get any better? What did he ever do to deserve this much happiness? His head hurt just a bit, mainly from when he slipped off the couch after being set down and cracking his head on the floor but this was really happening. It was real.

Suddenly he felt a familiar presence. There she was holding two of his children inside of her and staring up at him with the most gorgeous eyes. She was gorgeous, even more so with the knowledge he had now, and he didn't even know it was possible.

He couldn't help himself, the tears filling his eyes as his mother and Penelope suddenly ended the call and she excused herself gracefully (the internet in the home was shitty, so she'd probably be calling back within the hour) and now he felt tears rushing down his face. She smiled at him, so softly that he couldn't even speak.

"I love you." She whispered as she drew her face closer to his and pressed a kiss onto his forehead.

"I love you too. And I love them." The words whispered, just for the two of them.

Well. The four of them.

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The end! I cried a lot during this for no reason lol. I literally bawled my eyes out, I'm suffering from massive baby fever. Anyways, I hope you all like this one <3

[fanfics-and-love]

We Get Along Like Snow in New York

Sam Carpenter x reader

Not my gif

Warning(s): canon typical violence, mentions of death, mentions of blood, mostly fluff surprisingly

Word count: 4k words

Request: Sam and reader have gotten extremely close since moving to NYC and living in the same apartment, but when news of Ghostface attacks happening in New York. Sam pushes Reader away, thinking if she pushes her away, she'll be safe and alive. But, when reader is at Gale's apartment, (Dewey was her uncle) She's attacked by Ghostface instead of Gale, Sam and Tara show up to see reader bleeding out in Gale's arms. (She doesn't die) ask

A/N: I changed Dewey being Y/N’s uncle to father basically because it adds more drama to the story

masterlist

You had been living in New York with your mother ever since your parents’ divorce, having left behind the small town you had grown up in, and were ready to forget all about your father’s untimely death at the hands of a psychopath.

That was how you met Tara Carpenter, or more accurately, how you reunited with her.

Before your parents started arguing over the smallest thing, before your father quit his job, before you left town one day crying, you had been friends with Tara. You liked her because, unlike the rest of your classmates, she didn’t stare at you because you were Dewey and Gale’s daughter. She simply liked spending time with you, and you with her, which blossomed into a fast friendship that was sure enough cut short.

You were the best of friends, always hanging out. Sometimes, when your father came to pick you up from school, he would let you and Tara sit in the back of his police car and turn on the sirens, pretending you were dangerous criminals. You would cling onto Tara, giggling as your father joked around; you cherished those moments more than anything now that Dewey was simply a memory— a tombstone you couldn’t look at without crying.

That was exactly the reason why you reached out to Tara when your mother told you she had moved in with her sister, just like her wanting to leave behind that nightmare. She had happily agreed to meet with you, and you soon found yourself at a bar, drinking and talking, catching up with everything. She had pointedly left behind all that happened in Woodsboro, and you silently agreed, not wanting to remember your father, dead on the ground thanks to her friend. You had spent hours like that, phones on the table face-down so no one could interrupt you, and that was how you met Sam.

Sam was a blurry image to you. You could remember Tara mentioning her probably a little too much when you were young, always talking about how great her sister was at a certain sport, or how she had helped her defeat that big mean guy on a videogame because she couldn’t do it. You had never met her, however, because you barely went over to Tara’s, your mother prefering to keep a watchful eye on you just in case. You didn’t get much of a chance, however, because she left one day and suddenly all the loud praise was occupied by awkward silence.

Needless to say, you weren’t sure what to think of Sam, but she made up your mind for you pretty easily. She walked into the bar like she owned it, a tall figure clad in just a jacket that almost ran towards your table when her brown eyes landed on Tara.

“Sam?” Tara asked, leaving her glass of coke on the table to get up. “Did something happen?”

“Who are you?” Sam asked, not even looking at Tara to give her answer. You felt small under her intense stare.

“She’s Y/N,” Tara said, harsher than you expected. “An old friend.” Sam gave you another look, as if her eyes were enough to determine if you were a danger to her sister. You stayed still, as if you were being approached by a lion.

“We’re leaving,” Sam said. Tara gave you an apologetic look, and you simply nodded, watching as she got up and followed her sister. Outside, you saw them arguing, their screams almost sneaking in through the thick walls of the bars. You asked for the tab, thankful that your mother was rich.

What a bitch, you thought, shaking your head as you left the place, walking back towards your mother’s apartment.

A few hours later, Tara texted you to apologize, and once you replied she sent you her address, asking you to come over.

Having nothing better to do, you accepted.

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

“I’m so sorry,” Tara said, as soon as she closed the door. You took off your jacket, looking around before you sat down on the sofa Tara had pointed at.

“It’s okay,” you said, accepting the glass of water she handed you.

“God, I can’t stand her,” she said, throwing herself onto the sofa beside you. “She’s been like that ever since—” she gave you a small look before shaking her head. “You know. She’s so overbearing.”

“I get it,” you said, resting the glass on the coffee table. “I mean, you should’ve seen my mom when I was young. She barely let me go out when we moved here.”

Something like recognition crossed her eyes. “Right,” she said, sitting up. “Your mom’s Gale.”

“Yep,” you nodded, intertwining your hands together. “You guys killed the new ghostface together.” Something dark crossed over Tara’s face at the name, and you knew you had said the wrong thing.

“Yeah,” Tara said, voice sounding distant even though she was beside you. “Yeah, we did.”

“You know what?” You said, trying to cheer her up. “Forget about that. Tell me what’s your favorite artist.” Tara smiled, nodding as she turned to look at you. She opened her mouth at the same time the front door was opened.

“Oh.”

You turned to look at the woman, awkwardly standing by the door. For the looks of it, she was about to bolt from the apartment.

“You,” Tara said accusingly, rising from the sofa. She poked her sister in the chest with her index finger, and it was your time to wish you could leave this place. You couldn’t deal with family drama; you had had enough of it in your childhood.

“Me,” Sam said, allowing Tara to push her further into the apartment and close the door, leaving her no chance but to take the reprimand.

“Yes, you,” Tara said. You opened your eyes in surprise when she pointed at you. “You are going to apologize immediately to my friend for embarrassing her.”

“You’re the one embarrassing her now—”

“Samantha,” Tara said. It was funny to see the tall woman being bossed around by her sister, who was almost a head shorter. “You apologize right now.”

Sam looked into her sister’s eyes, and nodded. She turned to look at you, and you swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said, offhandedly. “Don’t worry. I get it. My mom is even worse with people she doesn’t know.”

Sam nodded, and made a noise of complaint when Tara slapped her arm. “Her mom’s Gale.”

She opened her eyes, understanding crossing her face. “Shit,” she said, looking defeated. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” you repeated. “Really. My mom doesn’t mention me too much to strangers just in case. You couldn’t have known.”

“I’m going to my room,” Tara said. You gave her an indignant look. “Sam, apologize.”

“I already apologized!” Sam called. Tara didn’t look her way, instead turning and leaving, presumably towards her bedroom.

“Well, do it again!” She screamed as she slammed the door shut.

“As cheerful as I remember her,” you said, not sure how to fill the awkward silence.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Tara,” you clarified. “She used to be like that when she was young too. Good to know some things never change.”

“You— oh,” Sam said. You smiled at the look of recognition.

“Y/N Riley-Weathers,” you said, getting up. “I know, it’s a mouthful. My mom insisted I should have both last names.”

Sam smiled, nodding. “Right,” she said. “You mom is— interesting.”

“She’s a bit of a bitch,” you said. “Don’t get me wrong, I love her, but when it comes to her job… I’m surprised she hasn’t interviewed you for her new book yet.”

“She’s writing another book?” Sam asked, sitting down on one of the chairs of the dining table.

“She’s always writing another book,” you said, reaching towards your jacket, which Tara had left on the table. “Well, apology accepted. I’ll leave now.”

“Wait,” Sam called, getting up. “I really don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.”

“Well, you sure have made quite the impression,” you said.

“I know,” Sam said. “It’s just… Tara wasn’t answering the phone, for hours, and I saw an ambulance on my way out from work and I just… I thought she was gone.”

You smiled softly, understanding washing over you. The image of Dewey crossed your mind, always watching over you, keeping you safe no matter what. You had hated it back then, but now he wasn’t here anymore, you missed him and his protective nature more than anything. “I get it,” you said. “Really. But you should approach it differently. Tara is kinda headstrong on being her own person.”

“I know,” Sam said, sighing. “I just can’t help it.”

“It’s something you have to work on,” you said. “You ought to be a little bit messed up after what happened.”

“You saw the news, then?”

“Please. I live with the news,” you chuckled. “And if I’m not home in half an hour she’s going to call the police and have them patrol every corner of New York until they find me.”

“You should leave, then,” Sam said as she got up, running a hand through her face. She looked stressed, and tired. You felt sorry she had to go through all that just because of who her father was. “I— I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“I get it,” you said, putting on your jacket. “You’ve been through a lot. You just want to protect your sister.”

Sam looked at you, thankful that even though Tara seemed so focused on not understanding her, at least someone else did. “It’s still not an excuse.”

“No, it’s not,” you agreed, walking to stand in front of her. “How about this?” You moved closer to her, grabbing her jacket to stop her from pulling away. Her eyes were open in surprise at your boldness. “You take me out one day to compensate for your vile actions.”

Sam’s lips revealed a playful smirk as her hands grabbed your waist. The touch was soft, almost unsure since she didn’t know how much you would allow her. “I guess it’s my penitence.”

You hummed, eyes momentarily on her lips before looking up again at her eyes. “Pick me up tomorrow, six o’clock.”

Sam nodded, her hands dropping as soon as you moved away. “Wait!” She called when you began to open the front door. You turned around, giving her a questioning look. “I don’t have your number.”

You smiled, walking towards her. Sam pulled her phone out of her pocket, but you simply kissed her cheek and pulled away. “Ask your sister.”

You left her there, eyes on you as you disappeared through the door. 

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

Shortly after that, you two began dating. Tara was a little taken aback at first, the thought of her childhood friend and her sister together disgusting her to the point she made a face whenever she saw the two of you kissing. Thankfully, she got over it quickly, her discomfort shortly turning into excitement. Her sister was happy with someone she approved of, and given that you two were dating, all of Sam’s overprotective tendencies had changed direction and were now aimed at you.

It was perfect, until it wasn’t.

You were staying over, having decided to sleep in Sam’s bedroom after she asked you to; something about it being too late and some news she had read about cabs in New York not being trustworthy (you had rolled your eyes at that because, really, what was trustworthy in New York?) You had barely needed convincing, the thought of her warm bed and her arms, firmly and protectively wrapped around you enough to convince you.

You woke up alone in bed, and went over to check your phone. 06:32. Sam would probably be getting ready for work, judging by the sound of running water coming from the bathroom, so you decided to get up and make breakfast for her and Tara, who would be leaving for college.

You had taken a year off after your father’s funeral, knowing that studying wasn’t exactly what you needed, especially because you were aware you wouldn’t be able to focus on anything. You needed to heal, and thankfully your mother was okay with your decision.

You made toast with eggs and bacon for Sam, and got out a bowl and cereal for when Tara woke up, since she had declared one day she was vegan and didn’t want to “eat murder anymore”, whatever that meant. You got it all ready and smiled when you heard Sam open the bathroom door, going to the kitchen when she smelled the food.

“God, you’re amazing,” Sam said, hugging you from behind. You turned off the stove, moving the food onto a plate. She smelled amazing, the shampoo she used fresh and still clinging to her skin. Though she had dried her hair, it was still a little wet where it connected with your neck, making you giggle.

“I know, right?” You said, leaning into her. You loved how warm she always was, in comparison to your cold skin. “I’m the best girlfriend ever.”

“Indeed,” Sam said against your head, biting your earlobe before kissing your neck. “The bestest of them all.” You giggled again, her breath tickling your skin pleasantly.

“God, it’s not even seven in the morning.”

Sam and you turned around to see Tara, standing in the kitchen with an angry look on her face. She was not a morning person.

“My apologies, Tara dear,” you said, pushing Sam into a chair and putting the plate in front of her. You handed her the cutlery with a kiss on the forehead, smirking when Tara groaned. “You want something with your cereal?”

“I want you to stop making out with my sister everywhere.”

“Hard pass,” you said, moving Sam’s hair to help it get dry faster. “Your sister is obsessed with me.”

“Ugh,” Tara said, pouring in the cereal before drowning it with soy milk. “I should’ve never introduced you two.”

“Our souls would’ve found a way back to each other without your intervention,” you said, resting your chin on top of Sam’s head. The girl smiled, abandoning her knife in favor of holding your hand.

“Gross.”

“You are gross,” Sam said.

“Look who’s talking,” Tara said, giving her sister a mocking look of disgust. “I know what you two get up to in that room of yours.”

“Jesus, Tara,” you said, pulling away to walk towards the living room. “Eat your breakfast and stop talking, will you?”

“Ah, so you don’t deny it.”

“Idiot,” you whispered. You sat down on the sofa, searching for the remote controller. Once you did, you turned the TV on, and sighed when you saw your mother on the screen. “She really doesn’t know what it means to take a break.”

You turned on the volume when you saw she was standing in front of an alley, police tape behind her. Your heart sunk into your stomach when you saw the headline.

“Ghostface is back.”

“Sam,” you called, urgently. You went to check your phone as Sam got up, probably alarmed by the tone of your voice. You finally saw all the notifications from your mother, calling you and asking where you were.

“Honey?” She asked, looking at you with concern. She lowered herself in front of you, eyes examining you to know what was wrong. You pointed at the TV, and once she read the headline she tensed, the hand on your thigh gripping you hard. “No,” she said, breathlessly.

“What is it?” Tara asked, picking up on the mood shift. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the TV, still going over the news.

“I—” Sam said. She looked out of it, face stoic as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. “I have to go to work.”

“College,” said Tara in the same tone. You watched with concern as the two moved around the house, almost on autopilot, gathering their things and getting ready to leave.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” You said to Sam when you saw her in her work clothes. She nodded, eyes not fully looking at you as she opened the front door Tara had just left through. She shook her head as if to get rid of a haze, and gave you a long kiss.

“I love you,” she said against your lips.

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

But you didn’t see her later, or the next day. When you went over to the apartment, Quinn told you they had gone over to meet with Chad and Mindy, so you went back over to your mother’s house.

She was pushing you away. You knew it, and you hated it. You hated how she was letting this new ghostface get in between you, but you mostly hated how she felt like being with you would put you in danger.

You almost laughed out loud at the thought, there in the middle of the street. As if. Your mother was Gale Weathers, your father Dewey Riley— this shit had been following you way before you met her. But of course, it was Sam. Sweet, caring Sam, who constantly put others first, who always did anything to protect those she loved, even if it meant putting her own life on the line.

Once you were inside the apartment, you sat down in your bed, looking at all the unanswered messages you had sent her the past few days.

Samantha, you wrote, and then deleted. It felt too formal. You typed in a final message before locking your phone, throwing yourself onto the bed.

You weren’t sure when you had fallen asleep, but you were awakened by the sound of the phone line ringing. You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you got up, cursing your mother for still owning one of those. It wasn’t the 90s anymore.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Y/N,” the sound of that voice made your skin run cold. “Wanna play a game?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m inside your house,” they said in a singsong voice. “Wanna play hot and cold?”

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

When Sam saw she had gotten a call from Gale, she knew something was wrong.

She had known early that morning when she woke up, something in the pit of her stomach telling her to go to you, to hold you and never let you go. But she couldn’t, not until she figured out who was behind those new attacks. She wouldn’t risk you— she wouldn’t lead that killer right to your doorstep and have you killed because of her. No, she would rather die than put you in that type of danger.

“It’s Y/N,” Gale said urgently, when she answered the phone. “I— I called an ambulance. They’re on their way, but— god.”

Sam had started running towards your apartment the moment your name fell out of your mother’s lips. She pushed people out of the way, barely noticing she was gasping for air, or that Gale was still talking.

“—so much blood,” she said. Sam ran into the gateway, pressing onto the elevator bottom a few times before cursing, deciding to take the stairs instead.

“Is she breathing?” Sam asked. One more floor, one more and she’d be there with you.

“I—” Gale was gasping for air. “I don’t know.”

Sam pushed the door open, thankful it had been left ajar. She didn’t see the blood on the floor, or your mother crying beside you— all she could see was your body, bloody and deadly still.

“Y/N,” she called in a whisper. Gale jumped at the sound of Sam’s phone falling to the ground, knife in hand ready to kill anyone who had dared hurt her daughter. She lowered it at the same time Sam lowered herself on the floor, hands shaking as she grabbed you and held you in her arms. Her fingers clumsily set on your neck, trying to find a pulse like a thirsty man searches for water in the desert. She gasped in relief when she felt it. Slow, a little too slow, but it didn’t matter; your heart was still beating.

“I can’t lose her,” Gale sobbed. “I already lost Dewey, I can’t… not her,” she looked at Sam with pleading eyes; she had never seen your mother so paralyzed with fear. It was an eerie sight.

“You won’t,” Sam said, voice firm. She took off her outer shirt, using it to press onto your biggest wound, which was located on the stomach. “She’s not dying. She’s not.”

Determination washed over, taking with it the leftovers of panic and distress. There would be time for lament and regret later, once you were safely in a hospital bed.

“God,” Gale said when Sam began to raise you. Blood splashed over the carpet, and she almost threw up at the sight.

“You called an ambulance?” Sam asked. She was holding you in her lap, your head falling limply into her shoulder.

“Yes.”

“I’m taking her downstairs,” Sam said. The pressure she was applying on the wound was helping, because it had stopped most of the bleeding. “I’m not fucking waiting until they get their fucking asses up the stairs.”

And so she got up, holding you in her arms. She carefully cradled your head in her neck, making sure it stayed secure so you wouldn’t accidentally hit something and got a concussion. It was the last thing you needed at that moment. She made sure your hands were on your stomach, pressing lightly onto the wound —it was better than nothing.

“You’re not dying on me,” Sam whispered. She was climbing down the stairs, Gale right behind her. “You’re not, okay, baby?” She felt herself getting choked up at the thought. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Shortly after, the ambulance showed up, and Sam ran towards them. She set you down onto the stretcher gently, and pressed onto the wound until one of the paramedics reached over, grabbing her hand and telling her she needed to leave.

She stood where she had been forced to stay, ignoring all the looks she received. It wasn’t until Gale grabbed her by the arm and moved her out of the way that she noticed she had been standing in the middle of the road.

“She’s being taken to the hospital,” she spoke softly. Sam looked at her arms, covered in blood— covered in your blood, and she almost broke down. Instead, she swallowed, putting her hands on her pockets. “I’ll take you there. I picked up your phone,” she pushed it into Sam’s chest, and she grabbed it. Great, the screen was completely broken. “Call your sister and tell her what’s happened. Tell her you’ll meet at the hospital.”

“Okay,” Sam said. Her dull tone almost scared her. She felt drained. “Okay,” she repeated, watching as Gale went to her car and got inside. It took her a few seconds to open the passenger door, and a few too many trying to unlock her phone to call her sister.

All she could think about was you, and getting revenge on what they had done to you.

[lostdreamr-blog1]

That's My Goddaughter

Summary: Bradley might have told you he would back off if you started dating Jake, but what happens when he tells Maverick? Second part of Bradshaw’s Date

Word count: 2k

A/N: Here is part 2 of Bradshaw’s date! I hope you all enjoy this one as much as the first!! Thanks for reading!

The look of bewilderment on Jake’s face was something Bradley would never forget. Maverick had been hounding Hangman all day to the point where others were starting to feel bad for him.

The group of them were sitting in one of their debriefs, where Mav was currently picking apart Jake’s near perfect run. Phoenix leaned over to Rooster and asked if he knew what was going on. The smug look on his face told her everything she needed to know. “What did you do, Bradshaw?”

Bradley was enjoying every second of today and would continue to enjoy it for many days to come. “I didn’t do anything. Hangman decided it was a good idea to take my sister out on a date last night.”

Bob choked on his water when he overheard what his teammate had said, drawing attention to the three of them. Hangman turned in his seat to see what was going on, but the second his eyes landed on Rooster, everything clicked. Phoenix leaned back in her seat and shook her head, “You’re in for it now.”

Bradley didn’t care in the slightest how Hangman felt. He was getting everything he thought he deserved. Mav dismissed the group but asked Jake to stay behind. The others walked out sending him looks of encouragement, knowing whatever conversation they were going to have, wasn’t going to go in his favor.

Jake remained in his seat in the front row, waiting for Maverick to explain what was going on. The look on Bradley’s face gave him a small insight to what this was going to be. He had hoped his teammate would leave personal business outside of work, but clearly that was asking for too much. It was karmas way of slapping him in the face.   

“I’m going to come right out with it. Just because Bradley can’t do anything about it, doesn’t mean the same rules apply to me. That’s my Goddaughter and you better treat her a hell of a lot better than you cover your teammates out there. That girl is something special and you best believe I won’t be the only one keeping close tabs on you.”

All Jake could do was nod his head. He didn’t know if he was talking to his captain or Pete Mitchell and any comment he wanted to say wouldn’t go over well.

“For as long as you date her, expect every day to be like this. You will see no special treatment and will continue to be pushed harder than everyone else until I see you are good enough for her. Do I make myself clear?”

Jake let out a slow breath, “Yes, sir.”

Maverick dismissed him, but called out when he was near the door of the room.

“Oh, and Lieutenant, Admiral Kazansky sends his best.”

Just as Jake thought it couldn’t get worse, his body seemed to freeze at those last words. He had always wanted admirals to know his name, strived for it, but not like this. This was an abuse of power and there was nothing he could do about it but swallow his pride.

Jake was fuming as he made his way back into the locker room. While most of his teammates figured it was because of how Maverick made him look today, it was actually for a whole different reason.

The moment he walked through the door, all conversations stopped. Word had gotten around of what happened and opinions were formed because of it. But no one was dumb enough to say those opinions out loud to either guy.  

Jake looked around the room until he spotted the one guy that was slowly pushing him over the edge. The cocky smirk was normally seen on the blonde pilot, but in this case, the roles were reversed, and Bradley was racking in every ounce of discomfort that was coming from him.

It didn’t take a genius to know Jake was furious. His usual slicked back hair was sticking up in a few places where he had run his hand through it. His cheeks have a slight pink tint to them that for once wasn’t because of the California heat. But what really stood out, was the silence. Jake was always quick to run his mouth and had a comeback for everything. So, when the pilot stood there and stared at Bradley, the others knew things were about to get ugly.

“Do you get off on the fact that you’re messing with your sister’s life?” Bradley’s smirk quickly fell when he heard the question directed at him.

“Excuse me?” Jake took a few steps towards him, making Coyote and Bob shift towards them in case they needed to break anything up.

“Because your sister told you to back off, you went and ran to Maverick about it, knowing he would be pissed. Well congratulations pal, Maverick is going to keep pushing me until I walk away. But for once did you ever think how your sister would feel if she found out what was going on?”

Bradley stood up now, fists clenched as he tried to keep his anger in check. “Are you threatening me?”

Jake let out an unamused laugh, “And here I thought I was the most self-absorbed person in the room. This isn’t about you. Hell, this isn’t even about me. Your sister told me last night that it was one of the first times where she felt happy and could let go of the past for a few hours. Being back here hasn’t only affected you, she lost her dad too. Her mom lost her husband in the same damn house ya’ll are staying in. While you went off into the Navy, she was the one who stayed back and took care of her.

“Did she ever tell you the number of stories your mom shared with her about your dad? About Top Gun and how much he loved flying with Maverick? Those memories have stayed with her to this day, making the move out here so damn hard for her. But now you have some personal vendetta to make sure my life is nothing but hell. Did you stop and think about how she would feel if I walked away because I didn’t want to deal with all this bullshit?”

Jake’s face was now red with rage, whole body tensed. He kept trying to put himself in Bradley’s shoes, but he couldn’t see himself doing this to one of his sisters. Not when the price was this high.

Bradley on the other hand had lost most of his color. He had zero idea his sister was unhappy following him out here and had only wanted to look out for her. He knew how ruthless Hangman was in the skies, but he didn’t think to separate that from his personal life. Yeah, the speech he gave that night had him second guessing a few things, but Jake was known to be a smooth talker. How was he supposed to know if he was telling the truth?  

“And I hate to tell you this but I’m not giving up that easily. It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than Maverick telling me how to be better or Admiral Kazansky making his position known. Your sister is worth putting up with all of this and more. So do us all a favor and get over yourself.”

Jake grabbed his stuff out of his locker and slammed the door, not sparing anyone a second glance. The room was silent. Nothing could’ve prepared any of them for what just happened. Natasha glanced over at Bradley and saw how defeated he looked. The once gloating man was long gone as he processed everything that was said. 

Bob went over to him and gave his shoulder a quick pat. A small show of support but he then proceeded to walk out of the room. Everyone slowly followed, not sure what else to do. Jake Seresin was always the villain of the story. No one ever questioned that. But today, roles were reversed, and the once golden boy of Bradley Bradshaw had now been painted as the new antagonist.

His phone started to vibrate, and he looked down to see that you were calling. After a few breaths to calm himself down, he answered.

“Hey, so I know you weren’t too thrilled about me going on a date with Jake. But I really appreciate you at least letting me leave the driveway last night. I promise he was the perfect gentleman. Even let me talk him into stopping for ice cream on the way home. Something you never let me do. Also, he told me how great of a teammate you are.” He snorted when you said that last part.

“Good try. I know he would never say that.” Your laugh on the other line confirmed that.

“It was worth a try. Anyway, I made dinner if you want it. I thought maybe we could stay in and watch a movie tonight. My way of saying thank you for not being psycho about all this.” Bradley shook his head knowing he was in fact acting like that.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I have to talk to Mav really quick and then I’ll be on my way home.” He had grabbed his stuff and slowly made his way out of the locker room to Maverick’s office.

“Oh, tell him I said hi and that he owes me dinner. I convinced Penny to give him a second chance. Tell him not to mess this one up. I can only work so many miracles.” Bradley smiled as he sat across from Mav.

“I’ll let him know. See you in a few.” He hung up and sighed. Mav was sitting at his desk with a knowing smile on his face, making Bradley feel even worse about the situation.

“A few things. First, I’m going to need you to lay off on Hangman. I appreciate you making him sweat a bit, but Y/N seems to really like him, and I don’t want to ruin that.” Maverick nodded his head and sat back in his chair.

“Are you sure? Ice and I had a whole good cop bad cop thing planned out. He was going to be the bad cop because he just has this stare that seems to pierce your soul. Used to give me nightmares back in the day.”

Bradley couldn’t help but chuckle, “Yeah, Mav. Thanks though. Also, she said you owe her dinner. Convinced Penny to give you a chance or something.” He watched Mav’s whole face light up.

“I owe that kid a whole lot more than dinner.” He watched as Bradley stood up and make his way to the door.

“I know you may not like this, but she has to grow up some time. I’d rather it be here where we can help her if she falls than halfway across the country. Seresin has his work cut out for him, but I think he’s a good choice for her. Cut yourself some slack though. She’s a lot like your mom in the sense that no one is going to stop her from doing what she wants.”

Bradley offered him a small smile and walked out. Maverick waited a few minutes to make sure he was gone and pulled out his phone to text Ice.

“The kid said to lay off, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”  

A/N: Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? I love to hear back from you all! I have tagged some of you who wanted a part 2. Let me know of you want to stay on the tag list for the future :)

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @angelbabyyy99 @bobfloydsgf @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticassidy

[jiggy-manda]

calex headcanons

of course i had to add my favorite svu ship 😩😩 my two favorite characters and they’re both IN LOVE!!!!!

casey’s favorite pet name to call alex is honey

alex’s favorite pet name to call casey is baby

alex is more likely to alternate between different pet names. she’s much more romantic behind the scenes and out of the courthouse

alex loves to plan their dates!!! she makes the reservations and keeps casey up to date on the details :)

she also always drives. partly because casey is her passenger princess but also partly because she has a need to be absolutely punctual and she becomes a bit of a back seat driver when she’s not in the driver’s seat

casey wouldn’t call herself a passenger princess though. she would just say alex likes driving, which could be true in some senses. probably both.

they make each other coffee in the morning!! casey makes alex’s favorite alex make’s casey’s 🥺

alex always takes casey out for a drink after a case is closed

oftentimes after a long day at work too

alex tries to pick up the tab every time but casey found a new loophole of stealing alex’s card when she isn’t paying attention so casey gets to pay in the end

casey always stays with alex when alex is having trouble beating her insomnia. even if casey is tired, she always prioritizes alex’s sleep health— sometimes to the point where she becomes exhausted beyond her means

if they ever went out to a karaoke bar, casey would be the one getting alex onstage

any time one of them is present while the other is prosecuting, all they can do is stare

alex, of course, will put on a show

casey will too if she’s feeling bold

they both show off to each other in the court room

they always consider themselves lucky that they’re both prosecutors; they’ve thought of way too many dirty scenarios about them duking it out in the courtroom as prosecutor and defender

they both get into heated arguments with the squad sometimes, but it’s easier for them to keep calm towards the others when they’re working on a case together

they argue with each other over cases too. usually they’re just small back-and-forths, but when they do fight during cases, it’s bad. never physical, but sometimes they get so loud that the squad gets nervous

outside of their offices and the courtroom, their arguments are much more respectful/ considerate. it’s hard for them to be completely reasonable when they’re fighting about a case because they’re both equally as passionate.

THEY CUDDLE EVERY NIGHT!!!!!!!!

[storiesofsvu]

A Dangerous Game Ch 12

Emily Prentiss x reader Warnings: language, alcohol, mentions of smut.

I promise y'all I AM putting the read more's in, this hellsite is glitching still...

While Sacramento had once been on your list of travel destinations, you hadn’t wanted to be exploring the city’s streets solving a string of murders.

The upside: the team had taken down the unsub in a matter of days meaning you’d make it back home for the weekend.

The downside: the jet was being serviced and wasn’t available until late Friday morning and you were stuck another night.

Everyone had split off but with a little bit more energy left you and Morgan found the closest dive bar to the hotel with a pool table and cheap beer, alternating between who was paying. You’d just missed your third shot in a row, letting out an annoyed huff before swiping your beer off the side of the table and chugging half of it back.

“You’re off your game Wilson.” Morgan teased, easily sinking his shot, “ya pent up or something?”

“Oh I’m sorry did you already forget about the fact that you booted me in the ribs earlier today?”

“I was aiming for the unsub!”

“Well your aim sucks. And you should be picking up the entire tab tonight.” You scowled in his direction until he finally missed a shot.

“Tell me something, why’re you so grumpy? Weren’t you the one complaining about being stuck in DC? We’re in sunny California and you’re frowning. Or is this about your so called enrichment time?” He waggled his brows in your direction and you scoffed with a roll of your eyes.

“I get plenty of enrichment time.” You stated, stepping up to the table to unfortunately miss yet another shot. Your words were true, it was just that this week Emily was stuck back in the office with extra administrative duties. There was no point in Vegas being a thing if she wasn’t in the field with you.

“Yeah? What’s her name?” Derek grinned.

“Your mom.”

“Very funny Wilson.” He shook his head for a laugh, “and I’m serious, you need to get out more.” Extending the pool cue he went to prod at your ribs and you let out a shriek before he sheepishly backed off with an apology, having already forgotten again.

“I get out perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, coffee with Garcia, farmers market with Prentiss, babysitting for JJ and third wheeling my dates. How many phone numbers did you get that week?”

“Nine.”

“And how many have you called?”

“One.” You half confidentially replied, hoping he would drop it.

“Savannah doesn’t count.” He chuckled and a puff of air blew through your lips as you dropped against a chair behind you. “C’mon, I know a perfectly pretty girl who’d love to go to dinner with you.”

“Oh Derek… please… no.” You eyes widened slightly, shaking your head and he chuckled, pulling out his phone and firing off a couple of texts.

“Tomorrow’s Friday, you always say all you do Friday nights is take out and tv.”

‘And Emily.’ You thought, glancing away as you tugged your lower lip into your mouth. Your moment of distraction had Derek thinking you were considering it, clapping you on the shoulder when his phone pinged.

“Perfect! Look, six thirty at Monocle!”

“Ugghh!” Groaning you pushed off the chair, grabbing his arm to drag him off to the bar, “you’re buying me tequila shots.”

*

Back in DC Emily was working late, which honestly she wasn’t surprised at, extra admin duty plus signing off on any paperwork from the Sacramento case the team had sent over already. Not to mention she wanted to get it all done by the end of day tomorrow, to not have to drag it into her weekend, she had plans.

Since the floor was basically empty and she was in the privacy of her own office she figured she’d get comfortable, her blazer was tossed over the back of a spare chair, her sleeves rolled up and a couple extra buttons of her shirt undone. She’d also pulled her hair up and if you asked her what was in her coffee mug she’d be lying when she told you it was coffee. With a soft sigh, she scribbled a signature onto the last page of the case papers and went to flip the file closed when a loose piece of paper from the back went rogue, shooting across her desk. Picking it up her brow furrowed, quickly reaching out to her phone, swiping up to your contact.

‘Why is there an incident report on my desk?’

It took a couple of minutes, she glanced at the time to do the quick math in her head as she tried to figure out what time it was in California and finally her phone buzzed.

‘Cause Morgan doesn’t know how to aim his kicks.’

‘Where’d he get you?’

‘Ribs.’

‘Please tell me it was your good side…’

‘Oh but that would mean luck was in my favour.’

‘You okay?’

‘EMT’s did a check, should be bruised but fine, just wanted to cover all my bases in case something flairs up.’

‘He better be sucking up.’

‘He’s currently kicking my ass at pool.’

‘Dick. Tell him he should be letting you win.’

‘He can pay my tab. I really just want to get home. It’s weird without you here.’

Her lips curved up into a grin and she felt her entire body relax at the unwritten words in your sentiment and that you were un injured enough to be out and not curled up with an ice pack. Her mind began to wander, wondering if maybe this weekend you could go out rather than do the usual take out, she’d just opened a browser on her phone to look up fancy at home date night meals, her mind still full of images of you when her ears picked up the sound of high heels approaching her office.

“Hey.” Penelope greeted and Emily glanced up, shooting her a grin, “am I interrupting?”

“No.” She shook her head, locking her phone and dropping it onto her desk, “what’re you still doing here?”

“Lost track of time going through the unsub’s hard drive and then I noticed you were still here and I knew you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, so…” She held up the bag of take out, “figured I’d order for two.”

“You’re an angel Garcia.”

“Oh I know.” With a proud smile she moved through the room while Emily cleared off her desk so she could unpack dinner. “Also I won’t tell if you won’t.” She pulled down the side of the bag to reveal a bottle of wine and Emily chuckled.

“Way ahead of you.” She gestured to her coffee cup, earning a laugh from the other woman. A comfortable small talk over took the office as they began to dig into dinner, little bits of playing catch up and almost gossiping about the team and most recent case.

“You have plans this weekend?” Penelope asked and Emily nearly groaned.

“I dunno…. I mean I’m still trying to decide between home cooked, take out or going on for dinner tomorrow. It’s not like it’s hard!”

“Well if you’re cooking, make sure you’ve got everything in your fridge already, cause you’re not gonna want to stop after work tomorrow to pick things up. I’d go take out, privacy of your own apartment but quality food you don’t have to worry about cooking and both of you can choose exactly what you want.”

“What’d you mean both? I don’t let Sergio order himself a human dinner.”

“You think I didn’t see you smiling like an idiot at your phone when I walked in? Not to mention you haven’t been in the field all week so I know the bruise on your tit isn’t from a punch.” Emily gasped, her hand shooting to clutch the sides of her shirt together, attempting to do up a button with one hand while Garcia chuckled, “and actually, now that your hair’s up I can see the fading one behind your ear. I’d place money down on the bet that there’s at least one on your inner thigh too.” She smirked and Emily blushed a deep shade because there certainly was one on her thigh, and it wasn’t exactly fading yet despite being a week old.

“Thought you weren’t a profiler.” She grumbled, finally admitting defeat and using two hands to redo the button.

“I’m not but I’m surrounded by them all the time, and because I’m not you guys have a tendency to let your guard down a little bit when it’s just little old me. So… who is she?”

Emily sighed, letting out a small groan but when she looked over at Garcia she saw her eyes full of hope and excitement, a warm smile on her cheeks. The girl loved love, and loved seeing her friends happy even more than that, she just wanted to be supporting, an ear to listen so Emily shook her head with a grin on her lips.

“Girl I met at a bar a few months back.” It wasn’t a lie, so why did she feel so flustered about the entire thing?

“You take her home that night or wait til the third date?” Penelope asked with a grin and she laughed.

“Technically we didn’t make it out of the bar…”

“Oho… you’re naughty.” She giggled over a bite of food, “so how long have you been together then?”

“Oh! We’re not— it’s not— uh… no.” She fumbled, “just sex, strictly sex.”

“Must be good then. Because you have been like, blissfully fucked recently.”

“Penelope!”

“You sure it’s just sex? That’s how all these things start off…”

“Yes.” Emily laughed, doing her best now to keep her guard up.

“How often do you two see each other?”

‘Oh only Monday to Friday nine to five not counting trips out of state, Saturday afternoons together and countless hours in the bedroom each week.’

“Once a week…” Emily strained, “dinner, drinks, you know… we usually grab take out, watch a movie or something.”

“And you like her…”

“Well obviously!” She chuckled once again, “it’s not like I’m going to let someone I hate into my apartment. And before we play twenty questions, she’s nice, sweet, gorgeous, a great cook with even better choices of take out, I’m pretty sure she’s Sergio’s favourite person—”

“Sounds like she’s your favourite person too.”

“I—” Emily bit at her thumb, if she admitted it to someone else it meant admitting it to herself and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that yet, “she could never replace you Pen.”

“While I appreciate the sentiment I highly doubt you right now Agent Prentiss.”

***

Emily had managed to duck into the break room right in time to find you on your own, rinsing out a Tupperware container from lunch.

“Hey, glad I caught you.”

“Did I miss some paperwork?”

“No.” She laughed softly, “I know it’s your turn to buy tonight but I’m stuck in a craving of either Thai or Indian, what’d you think?” Her smile faltered on her cheeks at the way your eyes widened.

“Oh fuck me…” you muttered, “I totally forgot to tell you, I can’t tonight, I’ve got a… thing, tomorrow maybe?”

“A thing?” She raised a brow and you groaned, wincing when you spoke.

“Morgan set me up on a blind date…”

“That’s his way of making up for kicking you in the ribs? Good luck.” She teased and right as you opened your mouth to reply Spencer rounded the corner, greeting both of you before turning to Emily and beginning to ramble off about a theory for a case leaving you to freely slip out of the room.

*

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been on a date, or at least an actual date. After Skylar there had been a couple of girls here and there in Jacksonville but nothing ever stuck, nothing was ever meaningful or substantial enough to bother continuing on. You found yourself digging through your closet for almost an hour before you finally found clothes that were appropriate to wear. At the very least, Derek had given Maya your number and you’d been able to hash out the details for tonight and exchange pictures so you weren’t going in blind.

Monocle was by far fancier than what you’d expected, it was lavish, five star rating, and the prices on the menu were far beyond what you would normally be willing to pay. You couldn’t help but let out a tiny sigh, if tonight went well, if Maya seemed to be worth the effort, would you really have to be getting all dolled up for too fancy places for weeks on end? You already missed take out on Emily’s couch in sweatpants where you didn’t have to care about what you looked like, where you were completely comfortable with each other already. You knew each other’s history, flaws, favourite shows, preferred drinks, you didn’t have to sit through this boring awkward small talk over drinks. Entrée’s had been ordered, Maya had started on the appetizer while you chose to just continue to pick at the bread basket, doing your best to contribute to the conversation.

If she had asked, you would’ve lied, but you were a hundred percent profiling her right now. She was nice enough, she’d already insisted she would take care of the bill, her dress was well fitted, a high end brand, same with the jewelry, she held herself with confidence, almost too much though. She could hold a good conversation, but it was almost stale, like she was only spewing off things she knew would be impressive, things to show off with, there was no full bellied laughter, no smiles that crinkled her eyes, smirks as she teased you with a glimmer in her eye. At first you thought she was just lacking personality, and then it dawned on you.

No matter how hard she tried, she would always be lacking something.

She wasn’t Emily….

*

Emily thought that maybe a free Friday night would be a good thing, a nice chance to relax by herself, do some self care, have a nice meal. Instead she was reminded as soon as she got home about Garcia’s comment, there certainly wasn’t anything in the fridge she wanted. She didn’t have it in her to try and choose where to order from so she tossed a frozen ravioli into the microwave for dinner, pouring herself a hefty glass of wine. She settled at the kitchen island, blowing on the pasta in an attempt to cool it down when Sergio jumped up on the counter.

“I already fed you.” She grumbled but did give him a scratch behind the ears and he sat down on the counter, looking between her and the empty spot across from her before he let out a particularly loud meow. “What?” She laughed over a bite.

“Mrroooww.” He looked again toward your spot at the island and she huffed.

“Relax buddy, she’s not coming tonight.”

“Mow?” His head tilted.

“I know, it sucks.” She sighed once again, she knew there was a chance you’d gone on the date just to get Morgan to shut up, but something was still irking her, she was so used to having your company on Fridays. It helped the entire wind down for the week, not having to do it alone, not to mention it was your turn to pay this week.

“Meoow?” Sergio plopped down onto his side, baring his stomach as if he was demonstrating exactly why you should be there instead.

“I dunno, she’s out with someone.”

He let out an almost annoyed purr, rolling back onto his stomach as he glanced between the two sides of the island, meowing in Emily’s direction.

“Stop asking me questions I don’t know the answer to!” She mumbled, taking another bite of food.

This time Sergio got up, wandering over to her with an extra loud meow before he head butted her chin.

“Oof, jeeze bud.” She began to scratch at his head as he continued to yell “I know, I know, it’s not fair, she should be here. Friday’s are our days.”

And there it was, she had basically said it out loud.

“Fuck…” she muttered, Sergio mewling up at her once again, glancing between her and the ravioli she wasn’t eating. “You really want this? It’s disgusting…”

“Mow.” He nearly nodded and with an eye roll she slid the container in his direction.

*

You had your phone on the table just in case something happened, but to be polite you’d stashed it underneath your napkin. When you picked that up to wipe off your hand your eyes darted toward the screen, the only reason it was alit was the brief touch from the back of your hand, nothing was going on. Maya let out a little chuckle,

“Everything alright over there?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, eyes still on the screen almost trying to manifest a message popping up when you realized you didn’t actually need a real message and picked up the device, “but, work…” you feigned a wince, “never ends.”

“Must be nice.”

“What?”

“Having a guaranteed get out of jail free card.” She stated with an amused grin, folding her hands under her chin.

“You’ve lost me.”

“With a job like yours, you can use it as an excuse to get out of basically anything you don’t want to be doing. You’re seeing someone, I get it.”

“No! I— that’s not, I’m just distracted tonight.”

“Because you’ve been thinking about her since you walked in the door.” She stated plainly, surveying you for a moment, “let me guess… it’s been going on for a while but you both insist it’s only casual, nothing serious, maybe even secretive. But now that you’re out with me on an actual date you’re realizing that you’re wishing it was her on this side of the table instead of me?”

You paused for a moment, your brow furrowing in her direction across the table, “I thought I was supposed to be the profiler…”

“The psychiatry degree comes in handy once in a while.” She shrugged, flagging down the server as they walked passed, asking for a couple of take out containers, “take your food to go, enjoy what’s left of your night.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She smiled softly, “no point in wasting time, right?”

“I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

*

Emily, completely unable to stop thinking about the fact that you were out on a date with someone else, that there was a chance you were going to spend the night with them, had decided to start deep cleaning her apartment in a feeble attempt to distract herself.

Rock music played through the apartment, a little louder than she would normally have it, trying to drown out her thoughts as she went. She’d finished the kitchen, clearing out the fridge and freezer, already having taken out a couple loads of garbage. Now that she was into the living room Sergio seemed to want to help, continually jumping up onto whatever surface she was trying to polish no matter how many times she dropped him back to the floor. Clearly she wasn’t the only one affected by your absence tonight. She sprayed the tv with Windex as Serg began to slink between the picture frames and artificial plants on the television stand, meowing and purring as he went. He reached the end, turning around to do it again and gave a little extra sway of his back leg, effectively kicking off one of the plants and sent it to the floor where it shattered.

“Sergio!” Emily yelped, scolding him again before she scooped him up to lock him in the bedroom while she cleaned it up to make sure he didn’t step in any broken ceramic.

Letting out a weary sigh she grabbed the broom and dustpan, starting to sweep up the dirt and little pieces, she was sure she was just sweeping dirt and faux leaves when something clinked against the metal dustpan and her brow furrowed. She tilted the dustpan a bit, shifting the dirt and a piece of silver buried amongst the black caught the light in the room, glinting right back at her. Her body shifted into high alert, her heart jumping in her chest as she shifted it again, metal glittering back at her and she was thoughtful enough to keep her mouth shut. Squatting down her fingers shifted through the dirt until she managed to pick it out and her suspicion was confirmed.

It was an audio bug. Someone had been in her apartment, more importantly, someone had been listening in to everything that had been going on in her apartment. Letting out an internal swear she suddenly remembered the night at Rossi’s when she’d found her window cracked open. Whoever had planted the bug had been listening in for months. She practically jumped out of her skin when her phone rang, ringtone blaring through the apartment effectively stopping the music and she dropped the bug back into the pile of dirt.

“Hello?”

______________

@ssa-sapphic @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @cabotfan42 @momlifebehard @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry  @anya-casablanca @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @aliensaurusrex @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx  @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess  @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @midnight-sapphic @scorpsik @thisisraes @prentiss-theorem @unsubologyy @strongsassysexysloane @svushots  @lavenderhoney94 @overtrred28 @borg-queer

[daisychainsandbowties]

would lilith be much of a book reader? What kind of books would she read?

right so i think that Lilith has the adhd reader thing where YES she loves to read, NO she doesn’t read. actually she’s always reading twelve books at the same time; no she never finishes any of them.

like any really really intelligent person Lilith is hungry for knowledge, and like any child raised under the press of a thumb she’s willing to get that knowledge wherever she can. her brain is working against her a little but it’s also a beautiful creature because it wants knowledge, but all of it all the time all at once. 

i think she’s on wikipedia and in the NASA archives and on Project Gutenberg constantly. she will literally sit there on her phone for hours doing the fanfiction thing where she tricks her brain into thinking it’s not technically reading because there are no books involved.

she tab-hops like a madwoman but it’s a case of balancing her intense need for information with her brain’s unwillingness to tackle that information in a structured way. inside of ten minutes she’ll read a bit about the Riemann hypothesis, a couple paragraphs of a socratic dialogue, an archived forum page about siphoning gas with your mouth and what petroleum tastes like (keeps waking up with a weird sulfur taste in her mouth. keeps hoping to find some explanation other than ‘it tastes like devil in here’) but if you ask her what she reads she’ll scowl and say ‘nothing.’

but i mean this is the girl who used to sit with Beatrice for hours and just listen to her talk about Galileo and Langer's lines and how to debone a fish. who used to sit by the fire with her dad and listen to random bits of historical apocrypha and who requested Stephen Hawking’s A Brief History of Time as her bedtime story when she was three years old.

she definitely sits on her phone watching 6 hour videos about Dark Souls lore and she reads all the books in Skyrim because they’re like 300 words long and somehow staring at the TV and reading off there is easier than reading a physical book made of paper or reading on the kindle (even when Cam downloads dyslexia-friendly reading aids).

her brain likes to bounce off the walls but it wants to know things. so badly. i think audiobooks are good for her but she plays them at 2x speed so her brain has to kind of do cartwheels to keep up and it gives her the same feeling as listening to heavy metal while she goes and picks up heavy objects and puts them back down again in the gym.

i wrote about this a little before but the sound and texture and the saying of words is very appealing to Lilith. she loves the music of language so i think the only way she can read actual novels for any length of time is to read them aloud (as opposed to subvocating) because choosing where to put emphasis and just feeling the words in her body is enough to keep her suitably entertained (plus lilith post-canon is not a huge fan of silence. she spent a lot of time wandering around in the weird high-pressure hellscape of The Other Side looking for Mary and then Ava. so she treats Bea’s noise-cancelling headphones like they’re going to eat her and she enjoys white noise playlists and having music just playing in the background).

Lilith adores the puzzles that language can make. she actually loved poetry as a kid because it felt to her like she could memorise the poem and work it over in the horrible ‘no talking’ hours that her mother imposed. at night when she couldn’t sleep after her dad died she’d repeat the poems over and over and over again and slowly wring more meaning out of them with each repetition.

she likes when stories are puzzles and, incidentally, one of her favourite things to do is listen to an audiobook on 2x speed while doing sudoku or crosswords.

and Lilith will read anything. she’s not super into fantasy or sci-fi because she has fucking wings and scales and it’s a bit like ‘i’m in this picture and i don’t like it’ but she enjoys classics. has a weird soft spot for Moby Dick and she really likes post-apocalyptic books like The Road by Cormac McCarthy and Parable of the Sower and i think she quite enjoys The Hunger Games and the Wool series. she definitely loves The Broken Earth Trilogy because it somehow gets a free pass with her ‘i’m in this picture and i don’t like it’ hang-up. it does make her cry though (the hand scene really gets to her because sometimes her mother would hold her hand like that, like she wanted to smash it and see if it came back together without the dysgraphia).

but she also rlly likes plays because performance and by god Lilith is a drama queen. she would totally have been a theatre kid if she’d been allowed & she loves performing little monologues and she likes how people sound when they’re angry but in the context of a play because the anger is always under the control of the narrative, and you can stop being angry whenever you want. 

she loves collecting information so when Cam introduces her to Stardew Valley she sits up in bed all night reading wiki after wiki and making little spreadsheets on her excel app for which gifts to give and when and how many of each crop to plant and which trees to grow and where and how many chickens and how much hay and all the different fish and how to organise the layout of the farm. so by the next day Cam wakes up and Lilith has basically a bachelor’s degree in Stardew Valley

and Cam is like ‘oh my god Lily i got you this game so you would relax!’ and Lilith frowning in genuine confusion like ‘i am relaxing??’

she does sometimes just teleport into Bea and Ava’s house & look quite forlorn until Beatrice sits down with her at the island in the kitchen and the pair of them peel oranges.

Beatrice talks about whatever she’s reading about that week, and eventually Ava comes in and explains all the different strategies for winning at Super Smash Bros and her opinions on the objective best tracks in Mario Kart while Beatrice cooks burgers on the grill outside in her baseball cap like somebody’s hot lesbian dad.

& then Lilith checks her phone & pecks Beatrice on the cheek and teleports home in time for Cam to get back from the airport. she tries to make out like she spent the whole weekend very sad and very by herself but Cam is like ‘gimmie your hands’ and then ‘yeah, Lil. i can smell the orange peel.’ 

so i think Lilith is a big reader but it’s not for the sake of stories especially or narratives or for characters or anything it’s for stimulation and knowledge and the words themselves. she’s that meme about the boyfriend who sits eating a sausage with the wikipedia page titled ‘sausage’ open on her computer. she ricochets between subjects and has the most incredible visual recall you’ve ever seen.

probably has a photographic memory but will forget what you asked her to go look for halfway up the stairs. Ava sees her sitting on her phone for literal hours while they’re all at the beach and asks Cam what the hell Lilith is doing because she’s not on social media & Cam is like ‘oh yeah she’s addicted to stack exchange and wikipedia’ and Ava takes a moment, licks melted ice-cream off her knuckle and says ‘wow that’s kind of hot’ and Cam waggles her eyebrows and goes ‘yeah, i know.’ 

[imaginingmarvelandeverything]

Halloween

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Request: the wayne famuly dressing up for  halloween agianst their will beecaeuse grace said so ? headcono s? sorry for the typos my phone isnt cooopperating

Warnings: vague spoilers for the film, mentions of injury

Word Count: 1158

A/N: Happy Halloween! I actually received this request months ago, not long after I finished writing convenience, but I wanted to save it for today because I knew I probably wouldn’t have time for a full Halloween celebration this year. There’s not much to this, it’s just a fun bonus chapter for a change. I actually did flip a coin for the costumes because I couldn’t choose! Anyway, I hope you like it!!

Ko-Fi

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

“Do we have to dress up?” Bruce asked, dropping down onto the sofa next to Y/N.

“You don’t want us going out trick or treating, and I can respect that with how Halloween always is in the city, but that means we have to do something at home. And even Alfred agreed to dress up if he could pick his own costume!” She shifted into his side as he opened an arm for her and angled her laptop towards him on her knees. “Which means we have to pick something.”

He sighed and pressed his lips against her temple. “What’s everyone else picked?” He raised his eyebrows as she smiled. “What?”

“Alfred is going as Dracula. I showed Grace a page of costumes and she pointed at the pumpkin dress, which I think was mainly due to the bright colour, you know because she’s two, and Dick has decided he wants to go as Batman.” She tilted her head back against his shoulder so she could watch his reaction. She was not disappointed, his lips parted and his cheeks went pink.

“Why Batman?” He said, barely above a whisper.

“Because, he’s a hero and he saves people.” She directly quoted from Dick.

“Oh.” He buried his face in her hair as his cheeks went an even darker shade of pink. “They actually sell Batman costumes? Or are you planning on building him one?”

She snorted. “I ordered him one so he can also wear it to school. Could you imagine the questions we’d get if I sent him in a completely accurate replica?”

“Yeah, that might not be the best idea.” He laughed. “So, what are our options?”

“Ash and Linda from Evil Dead, Money Heist red jumpsuits and Dali masks, Gomez and Morticia Addams, or Buttercup and Wesley from The Princess Bride.” She flicked through the tabs she had open on her laptop.

“Flip a coin?” He suggested. “Evil Dead vs Money Heist, Addams vs Princess Bride, and then flip for the winners?”

“Sounds good.”

***

“Pretty!” Grace squealed, and Y/N was unsure if she was referring to herself or to Y/N.

She chose to go with the former as she swept Grace into her arms. “Yes you are.”

Grace giggled and wrapped her arms around Y/N’s neck. Y/N smiled and smoothed out Grace’s pumpkin dress before straightening her headband.

“Shall we go see everyone else?”

Grace nodded enthusiastically and Y/N smiled before walking out of her and Bruce’s room. She balanced Grace on her hip and used her other hand to lift the hem of her red dress far enough off the floor so she would not trip over it while walking down the stairs.

Dick was doing a one handed hand-stand at the bottom of the stairs, his costume cape hanging around his head. “See I told you I could do it!”

“Consider me proved wrong.” Bruce said with a smile.

Y/N put Grace down as Dick flipped himself back the right way up. The Batman costume she had found was a pretty good fabric imitation, but she could point out several inaccuracies with it (not that she would ever say that out loud). Bruce’s costume was pretty accurate; black trousers, boots and shirt. It had come with a mask, but they had both decided it was probably best if he did not wear it, just in case someone got hold of the photos further down the line and drew the similarities between him and Batman.

“Black is your colour.” She said with a smile as he walked over to her.

“Red’s yours.” He said, glancing down to take in her dress.

She ran her hands over his shoulder. “Though next time, I think you should also dye your hair blond and grow a tiny moustache.”

“As you wish.” He nodded his head slightly in an imitation of Wesley and her smile grew wider.

“I don’t think the kids have any idea who we are.” She glanced back to where Grace was giggling as Dick did a cartwheel.

“I think the film is age appropriate for Dick, maybe not Grace. I’m not sure she’d like the blood.” Bruce smiled.

Y/N hummed. “You’re probably right.”

“So what’s the plan?” He asked, glancing at the minimal decorations her and Alfred had put up (the penthouse was already gothic enough without them).

“Alfred’s making bat and pumpkin cookies, we’re going to help the kids carve pumpkins, and then we’re going to watch kid appropriate Halloween films.” She told him before dropping her voice. “When are you planning on going out tonight?”

“I’ll head out after the kids go to bed. GCPD should be able to deal without me until then.” He said.

She hated that her mind flashed to the Mayor’s murder and everything that followed. It had been three years since everything with the Riddler had happened, but the city was still feeling the effects of the aftermath. Some of it had been good; everyday crime levels had dropped slightly and the last two Halloweens had been much calmer. But Falcone’s successors were starting to fill the power vacuum and reinstate most of his businesses.

“Hey.” Bruce said softly, reaching out and pulling her hand away from where it had been tracing the scar on her collarbone; she had been so far in her own thoughts that she had not noticed she was doing it.

She swallowed down the memories. “Be careful tonight.”

“I will be, I promise.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Cookies are in the oven.” Alfred said as he walked in form the kitchen. The look he gave them told them he was also thinking about three years prior.

“You make a good vampire.” Y/N smiled.

Alfred had slicked back his hair and dribbled fake blood down his chin and over one of his older white shirts. But the best part was the cape he was wearing; Y/N recognised it easily as one of the first ones she had made for Bruce, before she integrated the flight suit. From the frown on his face, she was pretty sure Bruce had recognised it as well.

“Thank you. And I must say you and Bruce make a good Wesley and Buttercup, but maybe not as much as Dick makes a good Batman and Grace makes a pumpkin.” Alfred smiled at the kids and scooped Grace up into his arms, balancing her on his good hip.

Dick gave a typical strongman pose as Grace giggled.

“Right, everyone into the drawing room, I want a family portrait!” Y/N announced.

Alfred carried Grace in as Dick started up again with the cartwheels. But Bruce caught Y/N’s arm before she could follow.

“I love you.” He said, cupping her jaw to get her to look at him.

She smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you too.”

Taglist: In the reblogs

[thefirstknife]

wait, Mara & Eris destroyed a Pyramid?

Maybe! Sort of!

I have a long ass post with several other connecting posts because I've been obsessed with this for a long time, but all of that is from before WQ released. Initially, I speculated that the Pyramid in question would be the Pyramid in the throne world (because it's conveniently damaged in the middle), and we had nothing but vague images of it being there. But outside the speculation which turned out wrong/unconnected, the rest of the post explains everything from the Witch Queen Collector's Edition and how it relates to Sjur in great detail.

In short, back in the Forsaken year, there was a lore tab in which Fenchurch has a vision of Mara and Eris confronting/damaging an unknown vessel. It was hard to say at the time, but when I read this post-Shadowkeep, it was really obvious that it was a Pyramid ship so that gave me fuel to connect that vision with a dream Sjur Eido had, also released in the Forsaken year in which she saw Mara and another woman destroying a "great black triangle."

At the time I believed that this was talking about some future event, something that will happen in a future season or expansion. However, WQ CE had a multi-page chapter dedicated solely to clarifying this in which Fenchurch sends a report to tell Ikora that he has spoken to Eris about his vision and that Eris confirmed this event has already happened. As a matter of fact, he only had a vision because Eris sent a message documenting this event, embedded in a shard of the Pyramid, for it to be found by someone in case she dies.

At some point after Forsaken, but before Shadowkeep, Mara and Eris (with the help of Elsie, the Nine, Rasputin and even Failsafe) discovered an early arrival of a single Pyramid ship to the edge of the system. They went there to meet it, in the orbit of the dwarf planet Eris. At some point, Mara went into orbit of the Pyramid and possibly entered it; this is unclear. Eris could not tell exactly what happened, except that Mara came in contact with the vessel and then died. Eris went to pick Mara up from her throne world and then the duo landed on the dwarf planet where they found a lot of debris, apparently from the Pyramid ship. Eris was wounded so Mara helped with the wounds. Eris also picked up one of the debris pieces and embedded a message to it, then sent the fragment to the Moon with her Hive shenanigans. The fragment was eventually picked up by Fenchurch.

We don't know exactly what the debris was and what Mara did with the Pyramid, but the description of the fragment was matching Pyramid material and I used that to identify it as Pyramid material, before WQ CE. So the debris on the dwarf planet should be Pyramid debris. It's however unclear if Mara did damage that caused that debris or not. On the other hand, both the vision from Fenchurch and Sjur's dream (a little embellished, as dreams tend to be) are describing the same event. So the event during which Sjur is "close to figuring her way out" has already happened. Whether Mara destroyed (or damaged) a Pyramid or not.

Which is why I believe that the conditions for her return have already been fulfilled. Obviously, being "close" to finding her way out is relative; "close" could've meant weeks or it could mean years. We don't know where Sjur is and how exactly she died, and she described it as being trapped in a maze.

It could also be that there will be another instance of Mara and Eris attacking a Pyramid ship in the future (Sjur's dream also mentions Crow being present). In that case, the conditions for her return have not happened yet. But until we see something of the sort happening, this is the best match for Sjur's dream and confirmed as real, via Fenchurch, meaning that her dream was not just nonsense.

Honestly, if anything like Mara, Eris and possibly Crow destroying a Pyramid might happen, we only have Season of the Wish left for that to occur so it's now or never (ofc depending on what happens to the Pyramid ships post TFS). If Sjur's dream is not the event described above, then it would have to happen next season, so either way Sjur-Eido-Returns believers are awake and ready. I will definitely understand if it doesn't happen and everyone should be ready for it not to happen, but we have a chance now so we're eagerly waiting to see if something happens.

[bechloeislegit]

BECHLOE WEEK 2023 - Day 7 AND 8

Day 7 (Mafia) and Day 8 ("Why didn't you say anything?" "You needed me to be ok.")

I've decided to combine these two prompts into one. I hope you like what I did with them.

Summary: The FBI has tried to take down Mafia Don Vincenzo "Vinny" Di Papa for several years. It is decided the best way to get close to him is to have someone get close to his daughter, Chloe.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

FBI Field Agent Beca Mitchell sat in the briefing room with several colleagues. Their Team Leader, Supervisory Special Agent Jesse Swanson, has just outlined the plan to put an agent on Chloe resulting in them getting close enough to her father to get the evidence needed to bring him down.

"Think you can handle it, Walp?" SSA Swanson asked.

"I know I can," Agent Chicago Walp said, smirking.

Beca scoffed, and Chicago glared at her.

"You got something to say, Mitchell?" Chicago asked.

"Yes, I do," Beca said, looking at Jesse. "I don't think the plan is going to work."

"Oh," Jesse said. "And why do you think that?"

"I've been studying the daughter, and I don't think she's into men," Beca said. "I know she frequents a number of popular lesbian bars, and I've seen her leaving with women. I think we need a female agent to approach her."

Chicago laughed and said, "I've seen pictures of her, and there is no doubt in my mind that she will go for me. I mean, look at me. She won't be able to resist me."

Beca smirked and shook her head. "Wanna bet on that?"

"You think you're her type?" Chicago asked, laughing again.

"Yes, I do," Beca said. "Why don't we both try and see which one she goes for? Either way, we'll have someone on the inside."

"I got fifty bucks that says she goes for Beca," Agent Stacie Conrad shouted.

"I got fifty that says you're wrong," Agent Bumper Allen said. "And she'll belong to Chicago before the night ends."

Jesse stood shaking his head. "Alright, settle down. We'll do it Beca's way. And I got fifty that says she'll be our inside man."

Beca sat back, smirking as the rest of the team made bets on her and Chicago. It didn't surprise her that the bets were split, with the female agents betting on her and the males, except for Jesse, betting on Chicago.

Jesse stood in front of the team once more and got them quiet.

"The plan starts tonight," Jesse said. "DiPapa's daughter goes by her mother's maiden name, so she's known as Chloe Beale. Remember that because that's the only name she'll answer to."

Jesse picked up folders from the table and handed them to the team. "We have intel that Chloe will be at the Pink Flamingo Lounge tonight at eight with a small group of friends. This will be the best time to approach her and get her interested in one of you. Once one of you has formed a relationship with her, we can bring down her Mafia Don father. This will ultimately disband a drug ring that has taken over the Eastern seaboard. Not to mention getting thousands of guns off the street and closing about a dozen open murder cases."

"Are we going to have other agents in the Lounge?" Stacie asked.

"Yes," Jesse said. "Mitchell, you and Walp will go in on your own. Stacie, you and I will be one couple; Bumper, you and Amy will be another. Jessica and Ashley, you'll be in the surveillance van to keep tabs on everything. Everyone watch everything and keep it low profile. Any questions?"

"No," Beca said.

"None here," Chicago said.

"Okay, let's go so we can get ready," Jesse said.

"You got it, boss," Stacie said, winking. "Pick me up at seven, and don't keep me waiting."

Beca and the team laughed.

"Get out of here," Jesse said, chuckling.

~~ BeChloe Week 2023 - Day 7 ~~

Beca arrived at the Pink Flamingo Lounge just before eight. She saw Chloe Beale standing at the door, waiting for her friends. She angled her rearview mirror down and adjusted her hair to ensure her earpiece couldn't be seen. Looking down, she unbuttoned another button on her blouse and plumped her breasts before leaving her car.

"I'm going in," Beca said as she started across the parking lot.

"Roger that," Ashley's voice said in her ear.

"Go get your girl, Beca," Jessica said. "We're rooting for you."

"Don't you girls start counting your money yet," Chicago's voice said.

Beca chuckled. When she looked up, Beca noticed Chloe checking her out. Chloe smiled when she caught Beca's eye; Beca returned the smile, then looked away and continued to the door. She nodded slightly as she walked past Chloe and entered.

Beca went to the bar, took a stool, and ordered a beer. She casually looked around and noticed Chicago sitting near the door, watching her. She raised her glass toward him and smirked. He did the same.

They both turned toward the door when it opened. Chloe came in with three other women and was immediately shown to a table. Beca checked them out as they sat. To Chloe's right was an attractive blonde who looked slightly uptight to Beca. To the left was a tall brunette who looked a couple of years younger than the other women. Across from Chloe was a darker-haired woman who looked like a mean girl. Beca chuckled when she realized that the four could be the cast from the movie "Mean Girls."

Just then, Chicago made his move and walked over to Chloe's table, where he stood for a moment. The girls stared at him.

"May we help you with something?" Beca heard the blonde say.

"I was just wondering if I could buy you ladies a drink," Chicago said.

"No thanks," Chloe said. "We're good."

"Oh, come on, beautiful," Chicago said, putting his hand on the back of Chloe's chair and leaning toward her. "It's just a drink."

"And I said, we're good," Chloe said, pushing Chicago's arm from her chair.

Beca could tell from Chloe's voice that she was already done with whatever Chicago was doing. She asked the bartender where the restrooms were. He pointed them out, and Beca asked for another beer.

"I'll be right back," Beca told him; he nodded, and Beca stood.

She could tell from the conversation that Chicago was getting nowhere with Chloe. Timing it just right, Beca walked behind Chloe as she pushed her chair back to stand. The chair hit Beca, and Chloe turned to apologize immediately.

"Oh, my gosh," Chloe said, taking Beca's arm. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Beca said. "Honestly, no harm done."

"Let me buy you a drink as an apology," Chloe said.

"That's not necessary," Beca said.

"I insist," Chloe said, taking Beca's hand and leading her toward the bar.

Beca looked over her shoulder to see Chicago standing with his mouth agape. She chuckled when she heard the blonde say to him, "You can go now, big fella. You never stood a chance."

"What would you like?" Chloe asked as they reached the bar.

"I actually just ordered a fresh drink," Beca said, holding it up to show Chloe.

"Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?" Chloe asked, looking back at her table. "I want that guy to go away so my friends and I can enjoy our dinner in peace."

Beca saw Chicago look at them, knowing he heard what Chloe said.

"How can I deny a beautiful damsel in distress," Beca said, smiling as she pulled the stool out for Chloe.

They both sat, and Chloe ordered a beer for herself.

"I'm Beca," Beca said, holding her hand out to Chloe.

"Chloe," Chloe said, shaking Beca's hand. "Thank you for this."

"No problem," Beca said as Chicago approached them.

He put his hand on the bar between the two women. Beca looked down at Chicago's hand and then up to his face.

"Dude, what is your issue?" Beca asked.

Chicago ignored Beca and looked at Chloe.

"I thought you didn't need a drink," Chicago said.

"I didn't need a drink from you," Chloe said. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm trying to get to know my new friend, Beca."

Chicago looked at Beca; Beca smirked, saying, "I think she just told you to fuck off."

Chicago pushed away from the bar, growling, "Fine."

"Byee," Beca said, waving as he stomped off.

"Pay up, suckers," Amy said, causing a cacophony of cheers and "way to go, Beca" in Beca's ear.

"Quiet down, everyone," Jesse ordered.

"I know this is going to sound crazy, but would you like to go out with me sometime?" Chloe asked, biting her lip.

"I'd love to," Beca said, pulling out her phone. "Put your number in here, and I'll call you to set something up."

Chloe took the phone and added her contact info. As she handed Beca her phone, she noticed her friends watching them.

"I should get back to my table," Chloe said.

"Okay," Beca said. "It was nice to meet you. I'll call you."

"Be sure you do," Chloe said, kissing Beca on the cheek before returning to her friends.

~~ BeChloe Week 2023 - Day 7 ~~

The next day, during the debrief of the night before, everyone was ragging on Chicago for "losing" Chloe to Beca. The team joked and exchanged money to settle their bets.

"Good work last night, Beca," Jesse said.

"Thanks, boss," Beca said. "Um, I plan to call Chloe tonight to set up our first date."

"That's good," Jesse said. "We won't have you wired this time, but we will have agents around if something goes south. Just keep it casual and make sure there's a second date."

"No problem," Beca said, smirking. "The way she looked down my shirt, I'm pretty sure we'll be fast friends."

"I know you'll do whatever you need to do to get evidence against DiPapa," Jesse said. "But be careful you don't fall for Chloe. She's your type, and from everything we've learned about her, she's really a good person despite who her father is. I don't want you or Chloe to get hurt when all this ends."

Beca nodded solemnly. "I hear you, boss."

"Okay," Jesse said. "Ashley, what has DiPapa been up to lately?"

"Things have been unusually quiet," Ashley said. "Although we did intercept a phone call from him to another man, talking about a big score coming up. We haven't identified the other guy yet. And there was insufficient information to determine whether the score is guns or drugs."

"We did put other agents on the wiretaps to listen in 24/7 to see if we can get anything more on it," Jessica said.

"Good," Jesse said. "Keep me updated."

"Yes, sir," Jessica and Ashley said.

"Is there anything else we need to talk about?" Jesse asked, looking around the room to see heads shaking. "Okay then, let's get out of here and get some real work done."

The agents all nodded and started leaving.

"Beca, let me know when and where your date is," Jesse said as Beca was leaving.

"You got it, Jesse," Beca said.

An hour later, Beca sat at her desk, looking at her phone. She had pulled it out to call Chloe when Stacie asked her what she was doing.

"I'm calling Chloe to set up our date."

"No," Bumper interrupted. "You should wait two or three days before you call her."

"I'm supposed to schedule the date as soon as possible."

"But, it's like an unwritten rule to wait," Bumper said.

"No, it's not," Stacie said. "That's something you guys say because you're afraid of rejection."

"No, it's not," Bumper scoffed.

"I don't care what you say," Beca said. "I'm calling her."

Beca pulled up Chloe's contact and placed the call.

~~ BeChloe Week 2023 - Day 7 ~~

Four months later, after getting nothing from their investigation, Beca was shocked by what was happening.

"What exactly is this?" Beca asked, standing before Chloe and holding a jump drive.

"It's a record of all my father's illegal operations," Chloe said, shrugging. "Records of drug and gun smuggling. All the whens and wheres both past and present."

Beca's eyes widened in surprise.

"Why are you giving me this?" Beca asked.

"I'm not stupid, Agent Mitchell," Chloe said, causing Beca's eyes to widen more. "Don't look so surprised. I knew who you were two weeks after we met."

"I'm sorry," Beca said. "Your father is a bad guy, and we couldn't figure out another way to bring him down."

"Oh, spare me," Chloe said. "I know what he is and what he's done. That's why I legally changed my name to Beale. I didn't want to be associated with him and his business, but that didn't really help me, did it? You and the FBI are using me, just like my father uses me. For the longest time, I thought I was the family he cared about. But in reality, it was just a smokescreen to hide his Mafia family and the ones he really cared about."

Chloe wiped a tear from her cheek.

"I'll have to take this to my boss," Beca said.

"I figured as much," Chloe said.

"And I want you to come with me," Beca added.

Chloe's head shot up in surprise.

"Why?"

"I think if you testify about what's on here, we'll have a better shot at putting him away for a long time. And you can live your life as Chloe Beale. And not as Chloe DiPapa, daughter of a Mafia kingpin."

Chloe stood quietly for a moment as more tears escaped. She finally nodded.

"I'll testify," Chloe said.

"You will?" Beca asked. Chloe nodded, and Beca said, "Thank you. Would you come with me now?"

Chloe nodded, and Beca reached for her hand; Chloe snatched it away. Beca inhaled sharply and clenched her teeth. She turned and made her way to the door; Chloe followed.

~~ BeChloe Week 2023 - Day 7 ~~

After securing visitor credentials for Chloe, Beca silently led her to the seventh floor, where her team was housed. Everyone did a double-take when Beca walked in with Chloe. Beca's face was emotionless as she passed by Stacie and approached Jessica; Chloe stopped a few feet behind her.

"Jessica," Beca said, handing her the jump drive. "I need you and Ashley to work with Chloe and go through this to verify its authenticity. I'll get Jesse and the rest of the team together and meet you in the conference room in a few minutes."

"Okay," Jessica said. "Ashley, Miss Beale, please come with me."

Chloe followed Jessica and Ashley. Beca watched her go.

"Beca?" Stacie said, reaching for Beca.

"Don't," Beca said, holding up her hand.

Beca knocked on Jesse's door and entered.

"Chloe Beale has agreed to testify against her father," Beca said, surprising Jesse. "Jessica and Ashley are going through a jump drive she gave me with records of all DiPapa's illegal dealings. I told them we'd meet them in the conference room."

Beca quickly wiped her eyes so Jesse wouldn't see the tears.

"Great work, Beca," Jesse said. "Let's go see the evidence."

Beca slowly stood and followed Jesse. Beca yelped when she was suddenly grabbed and pulled to the side.

"We'll be with you in a minute, boss," Stacie said when Jesse turned back.

Jesse nodded and called out for the rest of the team to follow him to the conference room. Stacie waited until they entered the conference room before turning to Beca. Beca was staring down at the floor.

"Hey," Stacie said, causing Beca to look up. "Are you okay?"

Beca shook her head and wiped her eyes. "Chloe hates me."

"Oh, Beca," Stacie said sadly. "You fell in love with her."

It was a statement, not a question. Beca could only nod.

"I'm sorry," Stacie said. "Why don't you go splash some water on your face, and I'll tell Jesse you'll join us shortly, okay?"

Beca swallowed and nodded. Stacie watched as Beca moved toward the restroom. She sighed and entered the conference room.

"...it looks legit," Jessica said as Stacie entered the conference room and sat. "We should be able to catch his people in the act at one of two locations marked here and here."

Jessica used a laser to point out the two locations on a map.

"He'll have extra men on hand at both those locations," Chloe said quietly. "You'll have to be extremely cautious because he'll start a gunfight to protect his interests."

"Stacie, where's Beca?" Jesse asked.

"She went to the restroom," Stacie said. "She'll be here in a few minutes."

"Okay," Jesse said, turning to Chloe. "I heard you are willing to testify against your father; is that true?"

"Yes," Chloe said.

"Okay, then we're going to put you in protective custody," Jesse said. "I'll have Beca and-"

"No," Chloe said quickly. "Not Beca."

Having heard what Jesse said, Beca walked in as Chloe was speaking.

"She's right," Beca said, sitting as far from Chloe as possible. "It shouldn't be me."

"Are you sure?"

Beca nodded. "Honestly, Jesse, it's best if you assign someone else."

Jesse nodded and turned to Stacie.

"Stacie, you and Chicago will take Chloe into protective custody," Jesse said. "I'll give you the info on the safe house once we're done here. I don't want any leaks from anyone in the department. The three of us will be the only ones to know her location. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Stacie said.

"Understood," Chicago said.

The team reviewed the remaining items on the jump drive for the next hour and developed a plan to take down Vicenzo DiPapa.

~~ BeChloe Week 2023 - Day 7 ~~

After getting directions to the safe house, Chicago and Stacie escorted Chloe from Jesse's office. The two agents grabbed their "go" bags and headed to the elevator. Chicago used the security key to take them straight to the underground parking garage.

"We'll take you by your place to pack some of your things," Stacie told Chloe. "We'll be at the safe house for a few days, so pack accordingly."

Chloe nodded as they exited the elevator. Chicago led them to a black SUV with darkened windows and got behind the wheel. Stacie got in the back with Chloe. Chloe sat with her arms crossed, staring out the window.

"Whatever you're thinking about Beca, you're wrong," Stacie said.

"You don't know what I'm thinking about Beca," Chloe said as she continued to stare out the window.

"Then enlighten me," Stacie said. "Because the Beca we left upstairs is not the Beca I've known for the past five years. She's in love with you and thinks you hate her."

"I know," Chloe said sadly, finally looking at Stacie. "But it has to be this way so she'll be safe."

"Why wouldn't she be safe?" Chicago asked, looking at Chloe in the rearview mirror.

"Because I know my father better than anyone," Chloe said. "He knew Beca and I were dating and found out she was with the FBI. So he had one of his men tell me she was an agent and to be careful around her. But I already had strong feelings for her and didn't care about her job. And when I discovered she was looking for evidence to use against my father, I knew I had to give Beca what I had to keep her safe because I knew he'd go after everyone I cared about once he learned I intended to be a witness against him. So, I'd rather Beca think I hate her so she'd stay away from me than for him to hurt or kill her."

Chloe wiped a tear from her cheek and continued staring out the window.

"Beca can take care of herself," Stacie said.

"As I said," Chloe said, looking at Stacie. "I know my father and what he's capable of."

~~ BeChloe Week 2023 - Day 7 ~~

Four days later, Chicago and Stacie were on high alert. Today was the day the FBI would be raiding several of Vinny DiPapa's known properties looking for guns, drugs, and any other evidence that would put him away for good.

"Is Beca a part of the raids?" Chloe asked nervously.

"Yes," Stacie replied.

"Well, if you want to take my father into custody, you should tell your boss that he'll probably be at his home in Atlanta," Chloe said.

"Are you sure about that?" Stacie asked.

"Yes," Chloe said. "He can monitor everything that's going on from there. He'll be more vulnerable as he'll send his most trusted men to receive any goods being smuggled in."

"Thanks," Stacie said, pulling out her phone.

Stacie put together a text and sent it.

Beca's phone pinged with a text. She read it and showed it to Jesse.

"Okay," Jesse said. "You're with me. Bumper, you and Amy follow us. We're going in silent. The rest of you have your orders. Let's go."

"On it," Bumper said as he and Amy entered their SUV.

Beca got into another SUV with Jesse. They took off with Bumper following closely behind them. Jesse pulled to the curb about a quarter of a mile from DiPapa's house. Bumper parked behind him, and he and Amy met Jesse and Beca at the back of their vehicle.

"Here, you'll need these," Jesse said as he handed each a silencer for their weapons and earpieces to communicate once they separated.

They attached the silencers and placed their earpieces. They then looked to Jesse for further instructions.

"Based on Chloe's info, there won't be too many guards around," Jesse said. "Bumper, you and Amy take the back; Beca and I will take the front. Keep your eyes peeled and quietly take down as many guards as possible. We have the element of surprise on our side, and I'd like to keep it that way until we have DiPapa in custody. Understood?"

"Yes, boss," Amy said.

"Understood," Bumper said.

"Let's move," Jesse said, and they all approached the house.

When they reached the corner of the property, Bumper and Amy veered to the right to go to the back of the house. Beca and Jesse continued on to the front.

Beca suddenly fired two shots, sending a man over the side of the porch. Jesse nodded, and they continued forward, eliminating two more armed guards.

"We've eliminated a couple of guys and are at the back door," Bumper's voice came through the earpieces.

"Hold until I give the okay," Jesse responded. "Beca and I are just getting to the front door."

Beca and Jesse were now standing on either side of the door. At Jesse's nod, Beca reached for the doorknob and tried to turn it; it slowly turned, and she nodded at Jesse.

"On my count, we breach," Jesse said.

"Roger that," Bumper said.

"Three, two, one," Jesse said.

Beca held her gun up and pushed the door open, sweeping the gun from side to side as she entered.

"Clear," Beca said as Jesse turned left and walked down a short hallway.

Jesse stopped and looked into a room, calling out "clear" when he didn't see anyone.

"Bumper, you and Amy continue on and check every room on the first floor," Jesse instructed. "Beca and I are going up to the second level."

"Roger that," Amy and Bumper said.

Beca stood ready at the foot of the stairs and nodded at Jesse. Jesse raised his gun and went up, stopping to look through the railing to ensure it was clear.

"Clear," he said, and Beca made her way to him.

"Clear," they heard Bumper say.

Sporadic "clear" came through as the four agents made their way through the house.

When she and Jesse reached the last door, Beca placed an ear to the door and listened. She heard a voice and pointed to her ear and then the door.

"Bumper, you and Amy get up here now," Jesse said.

"On our way, boss," Amy said.

"What do we have?" Bumper asked.

"I heard someone talking," Beca responded. "I think it's DiPapa. It sounds like he may be talking on the phone."

Bumper and Amy cleared the staircase and went to Beca and Jesse.

"Based on the floor plans, this is the Master Bedroom," Jesse said quietly. "It covers the length of the house. Beca and Amy, you two go left, and Bumper and I will go right when we enter."

"Roger that," three voices said simultaneously.

At Jesse's count, Beca turned the knob and opened the door. She raised her gun as soon as there was space, and the four agents rushed into the room.

~~ BeChloe Week 2023 - Day 7 ~~

One year later, Beca picked up her cane and met Stacie outside her apartment. They were headed to the Court House to watch Vincenzo DiPapa's sentencing hearing. DiPapa had made a deal to plead guilty to all charges so the death penalty would be removed from consideration, and he'd be sentenced to life in prison. They didn't know that he did it so Chloe wouldn't have to testify against him.

Stacie parked, and the two women exited the vehicle. They then went toward the Court Room where the final sentencing hearing would occur. Beca looked at the ground as she walked, still getting used to having a cane.

"Beca?" Chloe's voice caused Beca to stop and look up.

Beca couldn't say anything; she could only stare at the woman she hadn't seen in almost a year.

"You're looking much better than the last time I saw you," Chloe said with a small smile.

Beca's brows furrowed in confusion.

"You didn't know it," Stacie said. "But Chloe came to the hospital almost every day to see you."

"I thought you went into Witness Protection," Beca said, still staring at Chloe.

"I was going to," Chloe responded. "But then my father decided to work out a plea deal where if the death penalty were removed, he would plead guilty, so I opted out."

Stacie quietly slipped away and went into the courtroom.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You needed me to be okay," Chloe said. "And knowing that my father was the one who shot you, I wasn't. And then I needed you to be okay. So, I went to the hospital to see for myself."

"I thought you hated me," Beca said, looking down.

"I didn't hate you," Chloe said. "I fell in love with you and acted as if I hated you so you'd walk away, and my father wouldn't hurt you."

Beca scoffed.

"It's true," Chloe said. "In the short time we were together, I fell in love with you" She paused and took a step forward. "I'm still in love with you."

Beca stood silently, watching Chloe. Chloe smiled and took another step toward Beca. Beca didn't move, so Chloe took another. She kept moving forward until she could wrap her arms around Beca. Beca wrapped her arms around Chloe and held her tightly. She buried her face in Chloe's neck, mumbling, "I love you, too."

Chloe smiled and hugged Beca tighter

"Hey, you two," Stacie called out, causing them to pull apart. "They're ready to start."

"Can we pick this up later?" Chloe asked.

"Of course," Beca said, taking Chloe's hand and leading her into the courtroom.

~~ BeChloe Week 2023 - Day 7 ~~

Eighteen months later, Beca stirred when she felt Chloe moving beside her. Beca smiled and turned so she was facing Chloe.

"Happy anniversary, my love," Chloe said, kissing Beca.

"We're not married, so what anniversary are we celebrating?" Beca asked.

"It was a year ago today that you finally saw things my way and moved in with me," Chloe said.

"Oh, right," Beca said, pulling Chloe to her. "Best decision I ever made."

"I agree," Chloe said, pushing Beca onto her back.

Beca smiled as Chloe straddled her thighs.

"Mmm," Beca said when Chloe leaned down and kissed her.

Chloe pulled back and said, "I've got something for you."

"I didn't know it was tradition to give a gift for a moving-in together anniversary," Beca said, chuckling.

"There isn't," Chloe said, rolling off Beca.

Beca sat up and watched as Chloe went into their closet. She then heard Chloe rummaging around as if searching for something.

"Is everything okay in there?" Beca called out. "Did you forget where you hid my moving-in anniversary gift?"

"Shut up and close your eyes," Chloe said.

Beca laughed but did as Chloe instructed. Chloe peeked out of the closet and ensured Beca's eyes were closed. She then tiptoed over to the bed and got down on one knee.

"You can open your eyes now," Chloe said.

Beca opened her eyes and sat up straighter when she saw the ring Chloe held in front of her.

"Oh, my god," Beca said as tears sprang to her eyes.

Chloe cleared her throat. "Beca, I know we had some ups and downs at the start of our relationship, but I knew early on that you would be someone very special to me. Everything that happened happened for a reason. And that reason brought us to this point. I love you with everything I am, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Beca, will you marry me?"

Beca wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled Chloe into a kiss. Chloe wrapped her arms around Beca's shoulders and kissed her back.

Beca broke the kiss and looked into Chloe's eyes.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you, too," Chloe said, giggling. "But, you haven't answered the question."

Beca laughed and said, "Yes! A million times yes, I'll marry you."

Chloe smiled and placed the ring on Beca's finger. Her smile widened as she captured Beca's lips in another kiss.

This time, Chloe broke the kiss and stared into Beca's eyes.

"I can't believe we actually engaged," Chloe said, smiling.

[asirenscream]

TIMING: current LOCATION: an alleyway on amity road. PARTIES: @asirenscream & @mortemoppetere SUMMARY: wren stakes her claim on a dumpster and subjects emilio to her crying. CONTENT: mentions of past child death.

Wren knew that class was supposed to be important. While she had signed up for classes and tried not to stumble over her own attempts to blend in, that was made abundantly clear. Yet, Wren definitely hadn’t gone yet. Poppy had left her a bright pink backpack and whatever supplies she would need to get by as a ‘normal human girl’, but the concept of sitting around with a bunch of humans made her entire body break out into a cold sweat. It was still surreal that she was surrounded by humans when all of her life had been spent only around other sirens. Pretending to be human was already becoming rather taxing. She’d much rather be around the seagulls she had befriended already.

Blending in on Amity Road was easy enough with how many people were around, but that in itself had a wave of anxiety crashing down onto Wren violently. It took one person bumping into her to cause her to flock to the nearest alleyway, hiding behind a dumpster to regain some air into her lungs. She swallowed thickly, having taken off her backpack in favor of clutching it to her chest tightly. Not that there was much in it to begin with. There were a few things she had pawed out of the dumpsters she had dug through prior, but that wasn’t much. 

The plan to hide away didn’t last. Wren all but startled out of her own skin when a man seemed to have a similar plan to her in hiding behind a dumpster. Her brown eyes widened, staring up at him with her lips parted. What do you even say to a human in a situation like this? Act cool. She had to be calm. 

“What are you doing?!” Instead, Wren’s voice came out shrill and high pitched as her body shook. “I mean—this is my dumpster.” That didn’t sound good either. “Uh—um—” Wren was floundering and full of utter fear. What was she supposed to do?

—

A lot of P.I. work, as it turned out, was waiting. Waiting, watching, and being in the right place at the right time. Emilio was good at… some parts of it. The watching, he could handle. He spent a lot of his youth watching, after all, keeping tabs on the people around him in ways that ranged from picking out the weaknesses in his fellow ‘campers’ while training to noting what his siblings did wrong so as not to repeat their mistakes. Being in the right place at the right time was largely luck, but you could swing it if you knew what you were doing. Who to follow where, what to say and when… those were all things Emilio could handle.

It was the waiting that tended to give him trouble. And that was bad. He knew it was bad. So much of private investigation came with just waiting for something to happen, and Emilio’s inability to sit still for long periods of time had always been one of his greatest weaknesses. He liked to move, liked action. Often, this made his cases go… less smoothly than they otherwise might have. 

That was certainly the case today. It wasn’t a particularly unexpected outcome. The case had started as a simple attempt to prove infidelity to help a woman divorce her husband a little easier, but it had become clear very quickly that her husband wasn’t quite as clean cut as she’d claimed. While Emilio hadn’t yet gotten proof of the man’s infidelity, the photos he’d captured of the guy’s various illegal activities was sure to help his client’s case a little. 

Unless he was spotted photographing those illegal activities. In which case, he’d probably end up a little more stabbed than he’d like to be. 

The man turned his way just as his camera went off, and Emilio quickly ducked into an alley. He heard feet pounding the ground as they rushed towards him, so he made what he believed to be the smartest move available to him — he ducked behind the dumpster. It would have been a far better idea if he were the only one to have it.

There was a kid there. Tucked between the dumpster and the wall of the alley, staring at him with wide eyes. Emilio blinked at her, eyes wild. She spoke, and it was loud and shrill, and he shushed her quickly. “This is my dumpster,” he argued in a whisper. He had no real claim to the dumpster, but he needed it right now. “What are you doing? Somebody after you?” He glanced towards the mouth of the alley again, tense.

—

Wren immediately shrunk further back against the wall abruptly. Her mouth snapped shut and she bit hard into the meat of her bottom lip. She knew if she didn’t then it’d instantly start trembling. The picture books she read growing up never really said anything about humans being scary. Most of them blended together in the mix of sirens and how eating the hearts of humans came to be. A wariness and deep anxiety often plagued her when she would read the books as a kid. Poppy teased Wren for it endlessly when she’d snap the book shut and refuse to read it anymore. She couldn’t even imagine sinking her teeth into this man’s heart when all she wanted to do was run away as soon as possible

“Your dumpster…?” Wren finally managed, voice coming out in a tentative whisper. She didn’t know people owned dumpsters. Maybe he owned a lot of trash. There was some human saying about a man’s trash being treasure so that made sense for sure. “Sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t know. They don’t tell you—they don’t say when h—people own dumpsters.” Like houses and cars and other possessions. She had a list she was compiling with the one that Poppy left her with some pointers. Dumpsters would have to go on the list next then. Don’t take someone’s bag and definitely don’t take their dumpster it seemed. If Wren could shrink down any further without rousing the man’s suspicions at her adjusted height then she absolutely would. Having someone’s attention on her like this was making her shake, fingers twisting up in the straps of the backpack to grab onto something—anything. What kind of normal explanation could one give at hiding in an alleyway because she had been seconds away from an utter meltdown. 

“I like alleyways. Cozy.” The words were blurted out without a second guess. Wren grimaced a moment after. She didn’t think that was a very reasonable explanation. “I… needed to, you know, scope it out. Find my own dumpster. I strive to be a dumpster owner like you one day. Own lots of trash and stuff. Who doesn’t want to own trash, huh? A man’s trash is treasure like they all say!” Her rushed, whispered words tapered off with a nervous yet quiet laugh. Smooth. She totally was able to save that one.

—

The kid shrunk back and, immediately, Emilio felt a rush of guilt wash over him. Christ, she was jumpy, wasn’t she? Making herself smaller against the dumpster, shying away from his voice even in its whispered state… She struck him as a kid without much of an idea as to what went on in the world. He wondered if she was alone here, if she had someone watching her back. It seemed a ridiculous notion. If she had someone watching her back, would she have been cowering behind a dumpster? 

Craning his neck slightly, Emilio glanced back into the street. His client’s husband was still circling, still searching, which meant he’d have to stay camped out here if he wanted to avoid revealing himself. Absently, he weighed the pros and cons of it. He didn’t mind a fight, felt a little excited by the idea of one, but… Any revelation that the man’s wife had hired an investigator to follow him around would put her in danger. Emilio couldn’t risk that. Not for something as small as ducking out of a situation to try to make a kid he didn’t know a little less on guard. 

Sighing, he settled into a seated position, bad knee already protesting the short stint of squatting in the alley. The kid took his claim to the dumpster seriously, and Emilio felt another stab of guilt at that. Fucking kids. If she’d been a few years older, he wouldn’t have cared whether or not he upset her. But he thought of Nora, of Wynne, of Flora. If anyone found one of them in an alley like this and made them look the way this kid looked now, he’d have been pissed. 

“Sorry,” he said quietly, looking forward instead of at her. He thought it might help, thought that being the center of a stranger’s attention might have been part of what spooked her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Not really my dumpster, I’m just… an asshole, I guess.” As if guessing was necessary. “Think the city owns them or something, I don’t fuc — I don’t know.” 

He bit his tongue, trying to figure out how to proceed. He wanted to do half a million things — to leave, to stay, to ask if she needed help, to avoid any situation that might require him giving it to her — but he couldn’t settle on one. Absently, he glanced to the front of the alley again, but there was no change. He was here until he could leave, and he couldn’t leave yet. Something told him she didn’t have much of an intention of leaving, either.

“You’re not… sleeping here, are you? In the alley.” Calling it cozy seemed like a red flag. He let his head rest against the cold metal of the dumpster, making a face. “Hell, if you want to own trash, I can get you some trash. Might want to… aim higher, though.” There was something about the way she spoke. Unfamiliar, uncertain. Like she wasn’t quite aware of how things worked. It didn’t take a detective or a hunter to come up with theories about that kind of thing, did it? “You… not from around here?”

—

The man’s head turned away from Wren as he sat in the alleyway near her. Part of her relaxed at no longer being the subject of his direct attention. The other part of her was still seemingly on high alert. It was hard to not want to dissolve into tears or take off in the other direction. He surprised her in the apology that came next. Brown eyes blinked owlishly a few times while Wren processed that. 

Oh. So not a dumpster owner then. Was this something that Wren was supposed to be aware of? People don’t own dumpsters? This was more confusing than she thought it would be—fitting in. It’s not like she did that much in the colony to begin with. “Oh. I see. That’s… that’s okay. Do you not own trash then?” Was that even important? Wren couldn’t help her mild curiosity, even if she cringed at herself a moment later. 

“I don’t—no! I live in a house!” Wren fumbled over her words in her haste to reassure the man. Even if she had considered living in the woods where the birds stayed or on the beach with the seagulls she figured that’d be frowned upon as a human. Besides, it was a gift from Poppy—or that was how she framed it in her offer. Take care of it while she was gone and maybe it’d get this mission from her parents over with faster. “I find lots of nice things in the trash, though. People throw stuff away that still has heart to it. I think there’s some stuff that deserves a second chance before being deemed useless.” Wren remarked softly. 

“No,” Wren shook her head immediately. Her fingers absently played with the ends of her long hair that were a bright, fiery red. It reminded her of her feathers. She hadn’t flown since getting here. She was too scared to. It didn’t help that it seemed like no one was flying now with whatever was going on in the sky. Even without that she probably wouldn’t. Too dangerous. Too close to any humans who could see her. Poppy tried to tell her that the humans would be more scared of her than she should be of them, but Wren had a feeling that’s just what made them so dangerous at times. “I live… lived near the ocean. Far away.” Vague, but it would do. “I’m here by myself now.”

—

He was probably just about the worst person for this kind of thing. Emilio’s understanding of the world was one colored by the violence he’d been raised in. He knew more about how to kill things than he knew about how to talk to them, and while he had raised a child, Flora had been so much younger than this kid when she’d died. She would have learned about things like dumpsters and trash organically, years before seeing one for the first time. But… she probably still would have looked at him with wide eyes all the same, and something in him ached at the thought. He didn’t have time for this. He never had time for this. But he was here anyway, repeating history over and over and over again.

Blowing a puff of air through his nose, he cracked a little smile at her question. Do you not own trash? “Depends on who you ask.” According to a lot of people, half the shit he owned qualified as trash, from the ratty clothes he’d gotten without paying for to the sofa he’d found beside a dumpster not unlike this one. Emilio liked to think there was nothing wrong with any of the things he owned, but the popular consensus went against him there.

At least the kid had a house. He knew if she hadn’t, he’d have ended up dragging her back to Teddy’s, and even if they would have accepted her without a second thought, it would have been a whole thing. They’d have made some joke about Emilio and his habit of bringing home strays, and his face would have burned even if he’d have thought it was funny, too. “That’s good. A nice house?” With running water and working lights? She looked clean enough, for someone sitting behind a dumpster, so he figured she was all right. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right about that. People throw out all kinds of shit that’s still got life left in it.” Most of his clothes came from dumpsters, too. Nothing was ever as useless as people assumed it was. He’d learned that time and time again. And that was good, too. It was lucky for people like him. It meant he wasn’t entirely useless, either.

Near the ocean. A selkie, maybe? Emilio knew less about them than he did other things, but he knew they existed. While most of his knowledge was tied to the undead, he had been married to a ranger for a few years. This kid wasn’t undead, so that narrowed things down a little. She could have been fae — maybe some kind of water nymph? — or she could have been a shifter. Whatever she was, he had doubts that she was human. He didn’t think those doubts were unfounded. “Why are you by yourself?” Concern ebbed in his chest again; he tried to push it away.

—

‘Depends on who you ask.’ That made Wren blink in mild confusion. Though, the more she thought about it she supposed she understood. She often collected random bits that washed up on shore rather than trying to trade. While the other sirens around her age in her colony wouldn’t tease her to her face it often resulted in snickers behind her back and whispered remarks she ignored. Maybe this man too knew how it felt to have people question why you found value in certain items. “I bet your things are nice,” she offered after a momentary pause.

What exactly was a nice house? Wren didn’t have much to work off of. This was the first house she had ever lived in or seen. “Um, yes. I think so?” That probably wasn’t very convincing. “It is near the beach. I love the beach.” It reminded her of her real home. The nearby waves were partially able to calm any waves of anxiety, but it was still hard to sleep. “The bed is super squishy. I don’t know how people can sleep like that, though. I feel like I’m going to like—” She waved her hands absently, slowly pushing them in a downward motion, “—fall right through it.” Poppy was always better at adjusting to change than Wren was. Most sirens in the colony were better at it, even. 

The question made Wren inhale sharply. Her bottom lip trembled faintly. This was the second time she had burst into tears in front of a stranger. At least she could call Van a… friend? Is that what they were? She was still struggling to navigate the ins and outs of human culture and how to even function without her support system. Many anxiety attacks had been had. Her cheeks and the tips of her ears were hot with her embarrassed blush. Wren’s hand rubbed at her cheek as she glanced away to try to keep the tears at bay. It wasn’t that successful, one managed to escape and trail down her cheek before she could brush it away. 

“Um—my… parents.” There was an audible shake to Wren’s voice that even she couldn’t ignore. “They made me come here by myself. Said it would be better for me or something. I don’t have anyone here. Just me.” 

—

He was a little surprised by the compliment. He got more now than he used to — perks of having a handful of people in town who didn’t want him dead, even if he didn’t quite understand their reasoning — but not usually about the things he owned, and not typically from strangers. “Appreciate it,” he said cautiously. If she were fae, the compliment could be a trap. He’d been warned that some of them did that, tricked you into thanking them so that they could wrap you up in a bind. But… the kid didn’t strike him as malicious. And that was saying something — most things struck Emilio as malicious, after all.

At least it sounded like the house she was staying in was an actual house, with a bed. He huffed a little laugh at her statement that it was too soft, nodding in quiet agreement. He often had the same problem with his mattress at Teddy’s. He was more used to the one he’d slept on in his shitty apartment in Worm Row, hard and dirty. It made it difficult to drift off, sometimes, made him feel like he was sleeping on something that would toss him off the moment he let his guard down. Maybe this kid had grown up in the woods — nymph was feeling more and more likely. It’d make sense. “I get that,” he said belatedly. “The… soft bed. Mine is too soft, too. I sleep on the floor, sometimes. It helps.” It didn’t help the ache in his bones or the way his leg often felt like more pain than limb, but it was something, at least.

Her bottom lip trembled, eyes turning watery, and Emilio was struck by a memory of Flora at just a few months old protesting the loss of his finger resting in the palm of her tiny hand. Her expression had looked similar to this before a meltdown, though those meltdowns became fewer and farther between as she got older. Hunters, after all, couldn’t afford tantrums or terrible twos. His chest ached at the thought, and he looked away from the kid in front of him so he wouldn’t have to be reminded of the one he’d lost. 

“They kicked you out?” It was a quiet murmur, though he couldn’t quite mask the surprise in his voice. The idea of throwing your child out on the street to fend for themself wasn’t one that made much sense to Emilio. Even his mother, who’d never particularly liked him, had wanted him close. To let him go would be to risk him bringing shame to the family name, and that wasn’t a thing she could stand to imagine. She’d rather see him dead than out on his own, and he wondered if that was kinder. He was bothered by the fact that he couldn’t quite decide. “Hey, you — It’s okay. Yeah. It’s — There’s people here who’ll help you. All right? Don’t…” He waved a hand uncertainly. He didn’t want her to cry or anything. He didn’t know how to deal with it. “Look, what’s your name? I’m Emilio.”

—

At least Wren wasn’t alone in not being used to human beds. Was this man human or something else entirely? She figured she would be better at this, but then again, she spent her whole life around sirens only. There wasn’t exactly any advice any of them have given to spot other creatures and humans. She was sort of flying blind here. (The thought made her fight a smile at her own internal joke.) “Oh. Maybe I should try that.” She said, thoughtfully. She had spent a night or two on the beach. Tucked away where no one would see her, she slept on the sand and it was the most restful sleep she had since coming to Wicked’s Rest. It reminded her of home. 

Kicked out. That was such a… blunt way of putting it. Yet, it was the most accurate. That was what they had done to Wren, after all. Told her that she had to be able to stand on her own two feet and stop being so damn afraid. It wasn’t healthy to be so scared of everything, they had said. They all but kicked her off toward the deep end and hoped she could soar over the crashing waves instead of drowning. Her flying had started to improve with how she had to make the long flight to the town, but with the skyquakes and just plain fear, she hadn’t done much more. Fear ruled Wren’s life. She didn’t know how to not be ruled by just how scared she was every day of everything.

Wren let out a shaky breath and scrubbed at her cheek anxiously to wipe the tear that had escaped away. “Yes. They said it was for the best.” This was mortifying. Where could she run to? They were by a dumpster and she had no quick escape route. It seemed the man didn’t know how to handle her tears. She blinked owlishly as she looked at him, staying quiet as he stumbled over his words. Who would help her? Would strangers just help her out of the kindness of their hearts? Well, she did suppose that was exactly what Van did…

“I’m Wren, like the bird,” Wren said softly. “You really think people would help me? I—I don’t know. I kind of… avoid people.” She gestured vaguely, wiping at her eyes once more to try to keep her waterworks at bay for the time being. “Seems like the best plan as of right now. Pretty scary otherwise.”

—

She seemed to accept his advice, and Emilio nodded. He wasn’t sure if it was good advice or not, but a night of sleep on a hard surface was probably better than no sleep at all, wasn’t it? (He said probably, because he was never quite sure. He slept so rarely, and so fitfully when he managed to do so, that he found it difficult to consider what limited rest he received from it to be worth pursuing at all. Other people thought differently, but it wasn’t exactly rare for Emilio’s methods of self care to be met with arguments by whoever was around to witness them. This kid was… a nice change of pace.)

Something flashed across her face, and Emilio wondered if he should try to be a little more sensitive. It wasn’t exactly his strong suit, though he rarely even tried it with anyone who wasn’t a kid. He tried to treat people this age with gentleness, but… it was difficult, considering the fact that he’d never quite known gentleness himself. He didn’t know how to phrase things in a way that wouldn’t make her flinch. Given how jumpy she seemed to be, he wasn’t even certain it was a possibility at all. 

“For the best,” he repeated flatly, trying not to think of his own mother, of all the things she had done ‘for the best.’ She’d been planning his death ‘for the best.’ That one still stung more than he’d care to admit. “Don’t see how you being on your own is what’s best for anyone.” There was a hint of bitterness to his tone; he tried to combat it, to make it less. He didn’t think insulting the people who’d kicked her out would make her feel much better. 

Wren, like the bird. Was that something to read into, that clarification? Emilio struggled, sometimes, to tell the difference between actual suspicion and his built-in paranoia. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “Yeah, people will help you. Just… You know, not just anybody. Going up to strangers and asking for help, that’s not the way to go.” If she was something other than human, hunters were a concern. Hunters that weren’t Emilio, that was. “I’m… a person.” Even on the days he didn’t feel like one. He was trying to remember that. “I could help you. Maybe. I don’t know. Depends what you need, right? But I know other people, too. People you could trust.”

—

Wren was silently, staring at a spot on the dumpster over Emilio’s shoulder rather than at him directly. His words stung, but not in any way that was hurtful coming from him. It was hurtful to know that someone else was shocked at her parents' decision. The betrayal she felt wasn’t something that was unreasonable. She had felt lost in a haze of utter uncertainty since getting to the town. It ached just that bit more seeing someone being indignant on her behalf. It always seemed to hurt worse when the people you trusted the most were the ones that twisted the knife in your back. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think so either,” Wren finally responded. She picked at a stray thread on the sweater she was wearing. She ran so hot that she didn’t have to wear that heavy of a jacket, but maybe she should. Wren didn’t want to stand out more than she already did. There were so many ins and outs to being human, to coming across normal. Wren definitely was going to need a new notebook at the rate of how much she was filling it up with everything she was learning. 

“Okay… Not just anyone or strangers.” They weren’t strangers anymore, were they? Emilio and Wren, friends! Or… friends in a different sense? Friends that could feel like family. Someone to have your back. Someone that wouldn’t kick her out. Maybe Wren was getting ahead of herself, but Emilio had been so kind to her despite how tentative and fearful she was. Maybe friendship could mean leaning on people despite the terror that always was around the corner in your mind. Wren wasn’t sure, but she was sure that Emilio seemed like someone she could go to for help.

A small smile finally tugged at Wren’s lips. “Thank you… I am a person, too. If you—if you want help! That’s what you do, right? Help people you care for? I can do that, also. I don’t know what I can offer, but it is there. I know lots of bird facts.” She offered. “You were hiding, too? Weren’t you? From something or someone, maybe? I can help! Then, um… in turn, you help me walk down the street?” A small thing, but walking by herself around so many people was making her nauseous with unending anxiety. “I just… need to prove something to myself. I can do it. Maybe asking for help with it isn’t such a bad thing, right?”

—

He’d never been particularly tactful. His mother had had no reason to teach him the ins and outs of interacting with people, and Emilio had had little interest of learning it on his own. He knew how to do the important things — get information from people, get people to warm your bed when you don’t want to think for a little while, get people to buy you a drink or pay you a few bucks — but for the most part? Emilio was pretty clueless when it came to human interaction. This seemed like proof of that. The kid was upset, and Emilio’s words had been the catalyst to that. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, unsure how to proceed.

The nosy, detective part of him wanted to ask questions. Why had her family kicked her out, where were they now, why had she come here of all places? But interrogating her was sure to make her feel worse. Even someone as bad with people as Emilio knew that much. He tried to imagine what Teddy might do, in this situation. Teddy was good with people. Everybody liked Teddy. Teddy would probably give the kid a snack, or a blanket, or kidnap her dog and force her to move in with them. Emilio wasn’t sure he was particularly good at any of those things. So… he just shrugged. Better to say nothing than to say the wrong thing; he’d learned that the hard way.

At least he could teach her something, give her some form of defense in a world she seemed to know next to nothing about. “That’s right,” he confirmed with a nod. “People you know. People you know are safe.” Not that she seemed to know anyone just about now. She didn’t even know Emilio, dumpster conversation be damned. It occurred to him that, had someone else found her and given her this talk instead of him, things could have turned out far worse for her. He thought of Parker, who hurt people for his own selfish gain, of other hunters who hurt people just to hurt them. Was she lucky that it was Emilio who’d come across her, or was he just as bad as the rest? Sometimes, even he wasn’t sure.

“Right, yeah. Helping people is… good.” A lot of bird facts. He let out an amused huff, nodding his head. He had no use for bird facts, but he had a feeling he could set her on Teddy and have the two of them trade facts for hours if he ever needed to distract one or both of them. Her question brought him out of the thought, and he glanced to the mouth of the alley again. “Actually…” His client’s husband would almost definitely take a swing at Emilio if he saw him, but he doubted the guy would make any move against a stranger, let alone a kid. “There’s a guy out there looking for me. If you can distract him for a few minutes and then meet me on the next street over, I’ll walk you home. Sound fair?” It was a small request. It wasn’t dangerous, it genuinely would help him, and… it would help her prove to herself that she could be useful. Emilio, of all people, knew how important that was.

—

The amount of safe people in Wren’s life right now was… well. Practically nonexistent. Van seemed safe. She had been kind to her when Wren all but sobbed at the counter of the pizza restaurant. She showed her kindness. Her friend Wynne seemed nice, too. The few people she had talked to online as well. Did that mean they were safe? It was starting to make her head hurt with how many questions and thoughts swirled around in her head. Things hadn’t been this complicated in the colony. Everyone there was safe. Why would her parents throw her into a world where she had to watch her back at every turn? She already did that without even having a reason to! Now she did have a reason! For now at least, it seemed like Emilio could be that safe person, too. 

Wren practically perked up the moment Emilio actually seemed to consider and accept her offer. She could help! She could do this. The mere thought of having to discuss anything with a stranger made Wren’s stomach churn, but she could do it. Maybe she could just cry at him. That could work. Wren nodded her head, determined now. She was going to prove to herself and to Emilio that she could be of help. Especially since Emilio was kind enough to offer to help her. It wouldn’t be so scary walking around people with someone beside her. “Sounds fair. I can do that!” She reassured him. 

Standing up, Wren slid her backpack straps over her arms and settled them on her shoulders. She gripped at them tightly and sucked in a sharp breath. “Okay, okay. I can do this. I’ll meet you on the next street soon!” She headed out onto the street to find the man in question that was looking for Emilio. She did exactly what she did best: burst into tears on the spot. It kept him fully distracted as she sobbed and stumbled over her words, never actually telling him what was wrong. 

After a few minutes, Wren pulled it together to wave off the man’s concern. She made sure he left—although, clearly completely baffled—before heading off to find Emilio the next street down. She didn’t end up going to class that day, but at least it didn’t end up being a bad thing. 

[mypoisonedvine]

🖊️ - Lost in the Woods? I really really love the way you write dark fics hehe

ooh, this fic was absolutely one of my darkest ever, I think. I put all my worst kinks in there and just let 'er rip. it's a doozy. poor reader

I was in near-constant communication with @quinnsmunson @mustyrosewater and @mittos as I wrote this one and they heavily influenced it. jezzy specifically requested the line where koner mentions the reader's braids and tugs them, and as soon as they said it I loved it! it was a really fun way to describe her appearance/style while also being inclusive to most hair types (I think pretty much anyone can wear braids...)

I loved writing koner's demeaning, snarky attitude; and for the like 2 seconds of content he actually has, it's pretty accurate. the way he and henk basically make fun of and terrify her for so long was... obviously fucked up but super fun to write

I expected more hate because at this point, almost no koner content existed and I can very much understand if someone's desperate for content and the only option is something they consider morally reprehensible, they're gonna be mad lmao but thankfully I don't remember anybody getting too upset... I mean I could not have spelled it out more clearly in the warnings

I know for sure this one had some alternate scenes/endings, including possibly anal, but I decided not to go there and leave it at the insane filth it already was. I also remember having a hard time keeping track of the positions everyone was in. that's something you don't realize about writing smut, how annoying it is to keep track of free hands and who's on top and what they're wearing. in this case, I know the location of koner's knife was a pain to keep tabs on... but i think it all worked out lmao

but the changing positions thing, i remember trying to pick if she should be face down or face up and having to take the issue to committee, and this is the response I got...

so I ended up splitting the difference and doing both, it made it take even longer to finish but it was worth it I think! SORRY FOR POSTING SCREENSHOTS MY LOVES LMAO

and what I said about it being my darkest ever? yeah, well, it'll be dethroned handily if I ever finish my steddie x reader wip, let's just say that...

[usagimen]

Valentine's Day Application

Name: Amon Koutarou Age: 32 Do you like to cuddle?: "… Only with you, bunny. I like being close to you and holding you in my arms. Think we've already established that early on, but I'm more than happy to offer you plenty of evidence to prove my case." Can we make-out?: "When the mood is appropriate… ahem. It's a possibility, so I wouldn't rule it out just yet. That's for me to know, and for you to find out." A night in or dinner out?: "Think we can kill two birds with one stone, let's do both." Whip cream or chocolate syrup?: "… Is this for dessert? Both, I suppose?" Chocolates and roses?: "Well, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise, would I?" The answer's yes, and with a giant bunny plush to add to the collection. What makes you a good Valentine?: "… I'm a committed partner, and I'm getting better at dancing." He feels somewhat awkward at having to advertise himself and fill out an application when they're already in a relationship, but he doesn't mind entertaining her and what seems to be a rabbit game. "You'd never have to worry when you're with me. Does that make me a qualified candidate for this holiday, or should I list specifics?... Is this an interview, baby girl?" Would you cook for me?: "I'd take care of everything." Even the hunting; she won't have to stain her pretty hands with blood anymore. Would you let me cook for you?: "Sure, if that's what you'd like. I'd want to help you out in the kitchen and with gathering the materials, though." Where would you take me on a date?: "… Somewhere you'd like to go? A trendy upstart restaurant with a dance floor and a good bar, and then somewhere more intimate where we can see the stars and slow dance underneath the night sky. I'll take you anywhere you want to go, just say the word. I'll make sure you feel safe anywhere and everywhere in this city." Who’s paying?: "-- Hey, don't worry about the money, alright bunny? I'll take care of everything." He's a gentleman who's adamant about never letting a lady pick up the tab. What did you get me for Valentine’s Day?: "Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, but I guess it's fine if I show you early." Matching promise rings with gemstones to symbolize their connection and commitment to each other, paired with a flower bouquet of her namesake and another giant bunny plush so the one he gave her for her birthday isn't lonely. It almost resembles him, with the same deep blue eyes and steady smile. "... Will all this do, Miss Sayuri? Am I the perfect fit for the position?"

     Mangled flowers && cheap blood wine, the smell of intoxicating masked with decay, isn’t it comical? A ghoul that wishes to know what love is, the affection of a heart that brims with nowhere to go. Her stained dress, the ripped fabric of light gossamer && silk bows, slices of meat with the smell of cigarettes - she hated this, loathed it, none of it served meaning but only temporary reprieve from the vacancy that lingered. To live among those that admonished their existence, playing games in order to blend in, youthful with nowhere to go - always hiding. The rabbit who tried to believe her destiny was being snared by the wolves, might as well forget everything else that couldn’t be. When did she ever begin to care? Coffee that was brewed with love, the epitome of an indomitable spirit or the false belief maybe the inherited past they sought to escape could be washed away in the lull of lazy music && simple chatter. A dove, she remembered the worried voices murmuring, he’s found way into her burrow. It would be easy, fool him with the deception that whoever had the information he sought was just another nameless head to claim. Lower beings that caused too much trouble, ruining their fun but instead, she found herself inquisitive.

           The curious being who would listen to him speak && laugh, nihilism entangled within the saccharine tone && champagne towers, what was this sensation that grew in the depths of her stomach? It was not hunger, she had not yearned to eat in years, neither was it the pleasant numbness that spread, dulling the ache of self loathing, it was warm - pleasant. Slowly, it grows as time goes by the actions that go against reaction, low snarls that start to transpire as kin mock her - just eat him, you feel only obsession, it will go away soon. Safe, he constantly says this where she shook && trembled, confessing she has never felt it, biting before she could be bitten. Like a great towering ghost, there she remembers, it burned again that same odd feeling rooted in the depths of her stomach - blooming, twisting, when she wished to slaughter him on the spot. Pathetically clinging to the regrets that she could never utter; stay here with me, I can protect us, why won’t you stay? Those who live solely for the entertainment that anchored itself in utmost debauchery were not meant to harbor such emotions, a life that was careless without regret, how distasteful. “You’re terrible” she finally laughs, meager && soft, unable to be deciphered if it’s amusement or scorn. Berry-stained, her bottom lip is tugged between her teeth. The fabric of a white sundress bunched in her grasp, humans love trivial things, don’t they? They like to flamboyantly express their affections, without knowing the reality of what devotion means.

            The pale ghost reaches forward, slender fingers, too worn && yet, gentle, reach to touch his jawline. Affection that bore itself as she took the lead, a shimmering beacon of temporary reprieve from the mundane, Koutarou - he never saw this. Illusions that she cast in order to escape the existence that was deemed wrong from the start, another runaway, seeking to find freedom when there was none. He granted her the ability to believe that it was possible, this raw thing she called a heart was not useless. It still bled && pulsated with the tenacity to live even if she couldn’t recall why. I love you, the first time she says it the air is pulled from her lungs, the second time, it no longer is caustic on her tongue, slowly morphing into ways to remind him; we can face this together. “Just like always, making me blush && unable to say a thing, you’re such a heartthrob, investigator” finally, emerald eyes crystal with a thin sheen. She reaches to embrace him, tight && firm, like a bastion that refuses to fall - how could anyone be so pure in their beliefs? Even when disillusioned, even when the same system threatened to eliminate such truths, he was unwavering as ever.

        “Already I can sense hunting is off the table, you’ll find everything before I could even oppose, still troublesome as ever” thin slices, tightly bound && placed on the counter, the savage gesture to kill for another was to proclaim; no longer shall you be alone, no longer shall you despair, this sorrow is now shared. “Still nostalgic for your salaryman days? You filled it out perfectly, Koutarou, there would never be a life that I wouldn’t choose you” sunlight, she saw it for the first time with him. The morning that came where she did not rush to escape, dwelling deeper into the darkness awaiting for the stars to rise, instead she listened to the birdsong that was long forgotten. Hope, burning like an inferno that refused to die, that was what she came to understand; the belief, there was more to this life than merely breathing.

        “Dance with me, in our home, till the stars come out && we can talk underneath the moonlight - just like before, but this time, there’s a tomorrow”

[uniasus]

What would Sloane and the rest of the family's reaction to what Allison did to Luther be.

Oh, that's complicated and layered.

It comes out in stages.

In Reginald's universe, where Luther and Klaus are roommates, they end up having a really, really pitiful drinking game. If you share a memory/bit of history that the other person thinks a therapist would consider trauma, they drink. It's a weird, sorta emotionally safe way for them to both talk about what happened in their lives and get validation that it was awful. So less "You think that was bad, well here's what dad did to me!" and more "I agree what dad did to you was shitty enough for a shot."

So Klaus learns first, and he'd been the only person really willing to give Allison a chance right away but this changes that. It's after this drinking game that Klaus makes that phone call to Allison in Prove Me Worse.

From there, it slowly filters through the family. They know they have communication problems, but one of the ways they try to fix it is by gossiping about each other. They use it as a hivemind - what should we do? what should we say? It failed to identify what Viktor was hiding in Make Me Your Bomb, but does work here. Primarily because, sadly, both Klaus and Viktor have experience with sexual assault.

The solution is another drinking game - this time with all of them. Lila drinks pineapple juice though - she's pregnant and has a tart craving. And there's a whole lot of sharing about a lot of stuff. Some of it is repeats, just to more people, some of it is new. But that bad, shitty stuff? They air it all and it's a very good thing there's no powers between them because Viktor's book is totally something they spend a solid ten minutes on. But it allows them to acknowledge each other's tramas and in many cases learn there's someone in the family who understand part of what they went through.

After that though - it's not really brought up again. None of what they said. But it's there in the back of their minds, impacting how they interact with one another. Luther remembers from the elevator how good Viktor is at hiding tears, and so is always checking in on his emotional well-being. Five needs to know where they all are, so they regularly send messages like going to the store, who wants anything? or picking up a library hold, who else has stuff? Diego's hurt over the secrets Viktor spilled in his book means they develop a code about what's private and what's not. They learn the behaviors Klaus exhibits that mean he's craving a hit, the moment when to pull a tumbler away from Five. They say "I'm sorry" and "that's shitty" once, and then turn to actions.

In terms of how this translates to Allison's assault on Luther, the group avoids pool halls but a lot of Luther's triggers Sloane discovers after the reset. It's not the place of the SA that hits Luther, it's the command Allison used, a tone of voice in a certain situation, and so a sex game or two goes off the table.

In terms of how this impacts the group's relationship with Allison, things change as time goes on. Early after S3, they all pretty much avoid her. Klaus would have been willing to reach out if he hadn't learned what she did to Luther (the deal with dad is something he can forgive because hey, he thought dad had turned over a new leaf and could be trusted too). She's their sister, she's probably the reason they didn't all go poof like Sloane did. They keep tabs on her via tabloids, but otherwise, they carry on like she isn't their sister. She's hurt too many of them, in too many ways. They don't want her in their lives. Not someone they don't actually trust.

By the time the epilogue of 'Bomb comes around, the reasons not to trust her are smaller. Her power levels have been reduced, Viktor's sure enough of his powers he thinks he can stop her. The descent she'd been in at the hotel had been halted and reversed. More importantly, Allison makes the first move. She asks to join the family space again, with the gift of a night out on the town.

She misses them.

And they miss her too.

But just like all the stuff that came pouring out over tequila and vodka never got mentioned again, everything that Allison did never gets directly addressed. But Sissy watches to make sure Allison is never alone with Viktor or Harlan. Everyone makes sure Allison and Luther are not paired off, and Sloane checks in constantly that first harvest with Allison, even as Luther is checking in on Viktor.

You put the past behind you for the sake of the future you want. But you don't forget it.

[drakulateeth]

how do you deal with people being all up in your dating life? i get pitied so often for being single at an age where everyone is out having fun dating and it gets really annoying.

I know how that feels, and I suggest you tailor the strategy according to the circumstances. Now buckle up for this mind dump.

Family members are the most annoying to me. Because even if I have something going on, I just don’t want to tell them unless it gets really serious. I will most likely say that I don’t have anything and that I’ve been busy with university and my other priorities, I will focus on boys later yada, yada. But sometimes that is not enough, for example my aunt was adamant that I was dating/ had a fat crush on my guy best friend. I’ve gotten that a lot and I usually tell people oh I like this other guy and divert the attention from that. I told my aunt about three different dudes in hopes that she would quit annoying me about my best friend, and she could not be convinced. I told her to believe whatever she wanted. In our life we should pick our battles.

With friends it depends to who asks. My best friends receive multiple messages unprovoked when I have a crush on someone, because I can’t shut up. But with other friends, I would not mind mentioning details of what has been going on, because I’m not very extra secretive, and I can make funny stories out of the encounters I have with guys. People that I’m not that close with, if it seems like they just want to have a conversation and that’s the thing that came to mind, I’d just say I don’t have anything going on and try to push the conversation in another direction. If someone has some sort of ulterior motive, I just mirror back their questions.

"Do you like anyone?" "Why do you ask, do you like anyone? "

So you must take a good look at why do you think they’re asking you about that. I guess I give out the vibe of someone that would’ve had many boyfriends and many experiences, because I am attractive, sociable and I do not shy away from topics related to relationships, oftentimes they are just curious. After you take a look at the why, you can tailor your response.

Try not to be mean or too dismissive about it. I used to get very annoyed at people asking about my dating life, but acting out makes them pity you more. You can just change the conversation by saying I honestly don’t have anything to say or add so this will be a boring conversation, and just move on to the next topic.

Generally I don’t go around telling people about my standards, because it is none of their business and quite frankly I don’t care to be understood by everyone. In my opinion it’s better to be "boring" than to be "scandalous" when it comes to these matters if you aren’t looking for some sort of social clout in your environment, which I don’t think you do based on this ask.

If you were to ask me, what is my status right now, I would use the expression that the tumblr high ladies use, rest on my masculine. I am not actively seeking out anything, apart from keeping tabs open in two situationships in case I get bored. But you needn't be afraid to state in a diplomatic way that's quite a personal topic. And you can just end it there, you stated your opinion clearly, the ball is in their court. If they annoy you too much, ask them why do they care in this very surprised tone, so they are reminded that there is no reason for them to stick their nose in your business. You should pity them for having no life of their own, that they must annoy you with their projections of how you should be living your life.

And when it comes to feeling pity the evil in me would say take advantage of it. I don’t know how that might seem in your circumstances, but if you can get a favor out of someone because they pity you, well why not. But I would say that if you are able to stand firm in your decision and state: I’m not dating anyone right now and I don’t really intend to, if something comes up I can reconsider, if not that’s fine as well.

You should be very secure in yourself, you have made a decision and as long as it is authentic to you and what you want for your self, it is best to ignore what others assume is the best for you. But take the time to look inwards, acknowledging your issues is the first step when it comes to improving anything. Not saying that there is anything wrong with not dating to the contrary (not touching on how we have been force fed by the media with all these expectations about love), just make sure you are making the best decision for yourself. I am not afraid to admit that sometimes I do not know if my way of doing things is the right one or not, I just try to adjust as I go.

Honestly, do not over-explain yourself, it is never worth it, state your truth and live it. Declare that you have other priorities and focus on those. How much longer can they judge you, if you are confidently living your truth?

I really hope I was able to help, thanks for the ask <3 I know it is very annoying, but the best strategy is to be unbothered. Yes I know executing strategies is not that fun, but in the long term it is always worth it.

May you always shine brighter!

Snowblack

[ducknotinarow]

Yvonne and Rapheal [2003] || @aflockoffeathers​ contuined from [ here ] When I first heard about this whole nonsense about Bishop, I just knew I needed to keep some tabs on the guy see if he was up to anything, scummy. Course I completely believe he always be up to no good, the guy had such a vendetta against anything that ain’t human after all. How many times has he threatened to dissect me or one of my bros after all. Nah I gotta follow my gut and keep an eye on that Matrix loving loser Was Raph main motive, Bishop was someone to look out for in the first place for many reasons. But Raph had to admit it was all personal for him on why he had be trailing after the guy tonight. Sticking to the shadows despite how much he wanted to just jump and go right into the punching. Raph had to tell himself that was dumb though even if it might just bring him some satisfaction on his own end. No no he needed to stick through this. Raphael groaned a bit he needed to be a serious ninja like Leo right now. Didn’t even bring Casey along because well, Case just helps rail him up. Besides this was all for Raph’s own sanity in the end. It was a bit weird though as he trailed after the guy it seemed like they were just walking around with out a plan in mind but nah this seemed far to on purpose. Maybe he knew he was begin followed? Shit when did he noticed Raph. Or maybe he was trying ti make sure he couldn’t? So why was he sneaking around? That’s when he saw them meeting with someone, it was hard to tell from where he was perched but he was positive they weren’t human. Raph was ready sai in each hand in case he had to jump in on the rescue when he saw them hugging?

Hugging a mutant? Bishop? Okay something was up. He couldn’t hear what was begin said. Far to open to risk getting in closer. So instead he waited making this women his new target now. Waiting for old John to dip out once he had an opening to drop in on her. He could see fair better now she was 100 percent a mutant like him. Well not like him she was a bug for one but still. He stood and let her talk, arms crossing over his plastron as he fixed her with a look. Did she really think he would buy into this? This girl was a terrible lair. For so many reasons what she was trying to say wasn’t adding up. One this is New York, New Yorkers were far from the kind to hug a random stranger. Two it was John Bishop she was hugging some tells the turtle that he ain’t the type to go out and about hugging people openly like that. And three she was a mutant hugging the same damn guy who seeked to get rid of anything that wasn’t human. The only way Raph saw someone being close enough to this guy to get a hug? Nah she knew him. Brow furrowed as he scowled a little at her, Raph would admit he wasn’t brainy sure but he wasn’t that stupid and he felt a little jerked around right now. Why would a mutant claiming to look for other mutants have anything to do with a guy like-

 The second the thought came to him he lowered his arms not out right moving to a fighting stance but making sure if he had to he could grab for his sais, if he needed to. “Clueless that the story you aiming to stick to here uh? listen girlie just cause you got connections with that lunatic don’t mean I won’t pick a fight with ya. What that is scheme now?” Clearly he had ignore when she gave her name and offered to ask for his own, pointing a finger her way he still in part felt she wasn’t a threat she wasn’t giving off any tells that she was up to something other than lying about her connection with Bishop, That’s why he wasn’t able to trust her. “What lure the mutants out with ‘nother eh? that the plan now? I get all chummy with ya’s and let you meet any others I know then once we all think we good and safe you send the single and suddenly we get ambushed and captured. Pft yeah cause I really gonna fall for that old trick.” Raph lays out if he’s harsh in tone its meant to be that way. She clearly covering something her, but in part as he looked at her. She wasn’t averting her eyes, or fidgeting the only time any tell came across was when she claimed Bishop was some stranger to her. “Ya know I can’t stand a lot of things, got a bit of a short fuse one can say but if there is one thing that ticks me off most? it’s a bad lair.” At best that was the only thing marking her as a threat to him. She was lying. “No I don’t know if you got some deal with him but let me tall ya that guy aint now good hes nothing but bad. I’d say he worse than any other scum in this city and I deal with that scum on the daily. So tots stop wasting my time.” Slightly break his harden expression a moment in the off chance this was against her own wishes. “Look maybe he’s got something over you, maybe you in a corner if thats that case fess up and tell me.” He could help here get away if that what she needed maybe she was a tool against her will? ugh Raph hated not having what he needed to know his mind didn’t like having to tread so carefully. Sort of wished he did have his brothers with him. “So which is it Yvonne” Oh guess he did listen “Are you gonna keep playin’ dumb with me or you gonna be honest here? I rather not waste my time if that’s how it gonna be.”