#my mom used to watch NYPD all the time when i was a kid and how did i miss this fine piece of ass 😭

[count-horror-xx]

I am so so SO glad that Pedro Pascal is trending rn. Even tho I personally don't find him attractive (I'm not saying he's ugly btw 😭 he's handsome he's just not my type) his character dio on the other hand 👀-

LIKE WHERE HAS HE BEEN ALL MY LIFE???? HE'S LITERALLY MY TYPE BRO

[shoot-the-oneshot]

Harvard Vs Netflix

Malcolm bright x reader

You were fussing over your hair for probably the tenth time this block, usually you didn’t care but you were going on a double date with your friend and her new fiance, plus it was the first time she’ll meet Malcolm, so you had to look your best.

“Love, you look fine, calm down.”

Malcolm says, gently pulling your hand away from your hair and onto his lap. It also didn’t help that he always wore a suit, and looked damn good in them. You never saw him an anything else until you moved in with him. Shooting the ex FBI agent an exasperated look.

“Surely you know that wasn’t the best thing to say right now, being a profiler and all?”

Chuckling he lifts your hand to place many soft kisses to the back in apology.

“You’re right, I should’ve told you how beautiful you always look, now being no exception.”

“Plus aren’t you excited?”

Smiling you slide closer, tucking yourself under his arm resting your head on his chest as you sigh. You were excited, but couldn’t get past this weird feeling in your chest.

“I am, it’s just...her fiancé Ty,”

Feeling him move to get a better look at your expression, trying to figure out what you meant so you didn’t have to say it if you didn’t want to. You know if he saw something he didn’t like on your face as you spoke of the other man he would tell the driver to turn around, he always wanted you to be comfortable even around his family, he never seemed to calm down until you both were alone.

“There’s something off, and I can’t ask her about it or she will think it’s payback for what she said about you when we started dating.”

“What did she say about me!”

Luckily before you had to answer the car stopped outside the restaurant.

Some restaurant in Manhattan that had a dark lit romantic theme but was still classy.

After Malcolm held the door open for you, you saw Natalie sitting alone and rushed to hug her.

“You’re here!”

She squeals when she sees you, Malcolm trailing behind, hands stuffed in his expensive suit pants pockets.

“Of course we are, but where’s Ty?”

You asked sitting in the seat Malcolm pulled out for you after you introduced them both.

Reading the sheepish look on her face you could figure out what was up.

“He’s running late, he will be here soon.”

That’s what she always said. You all spend the next thirty minutes catching up and explaining old stories of the trouble you both got into as kids to Malcolm, when Ty walks in. Giving you a quick awkward hug, he knew you didn’t like him you made it clear after the fifth time he stood her up. He shook Malcolms hand and gave Natalie a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Sorry I’m late got caught up at work.”

Malcolm smirked at your eye roll, it was odd for him to see you like this, normally you were the nicest person clearly you didn’t like Ty, he just had to find out why, should be easy enough.

“What do you do?”

It was a simple question, if Malcolm wasn’t the one to ask but you knew he’d be looking for anything Ty would give up. You already had suspicions hopefully He will come to the same conclusion.

“Uh, real-estate, you?”

“I’m a consultant for the NYPD, a profiler to be exact.”

“He used to be FBI isn’t that cool!”

Natalie said squeezing Tys shoulder as she bragged to her fiancé about your boyfriends past career. At least he looked flustered knowing that Malcolm figures out serial killers thoughts for fun.

“Isn’t it a little late for real estate?”

“Y/n!”

“No Nat, it’s okay. Well Y/n in real estate I have to stage houses in order to sell them. That’s what I was doing.”

Giving an innocent shrug as she yells at you. That smug punk, he was testing you, seeing how far you would go you knew that but if you were going down so was he.

“Oh yeah did you use perfume to stage the house? because you smell absolutely floral.”

Before you could laugh at he wide eyes and the fact he choked on his drink, your boyfriends phone rang. He could feel your glare, one because you asked him to mute it during dinners, two because it ruined the moment you finally had of Ty for once not having some degrading come back.

Quietly speaking over the phone, judging by the annoyance all over his face it was his mother. Rather then third wheeling you followed him outside, when he was just hanging up.

“I’m sorry love,-“

You cut him off before he could finish, any other time you would be irritated but this time, it gave you an escape.

“Yeah yeah it’s fine. What did you think of Ty?”

“You don’t like it when I profile your friends.”

Raising his eyebrows, looking over your face as if it was a trick.

“Ty is not my friend! And I said I don’t like when you profile me! I know the guy is cheating do you agree?”

“He was acting odd and gave clear signals of deception and did smell very floral yes.”

“Well he wasn’t wearing his ring and there’s a pink lipstick mark behind his ear, did you see how nervous he got when he found out what you did!”

He’s only her fiancé but she wanted them both to have engagement rings. And of course he probably lost his ‘staging a house’

“How’d you catch that? I didn’t even see that!”

Malcolm asked, sounding astounded. Sure he went to some fancy school but you learned naturally, which is something he forgets. You could read people almost as well as he could and have made many jokes about it.

“Yeah, guess Netflix taught more than Harvard babe.”

You winked, leading him back to the restaurant.

The following week you were both having a game night with Ainsley and Mitch the new guy she was seeing. You started with monopoly, then charades which you and Malcolm killed at. Now it was 21, the boys either folded or busted, it was down to you and Ainsley,

“I’m all in.”

She says, her lip twitching. An untrained eye wouldn’t have caught it, but you call her bluff and go all in too. And you were right to do so. Yelling in excitement as you flip your cards.

“Dang it, it’s like playing with Malcolm!”

She shouted, a smile on both of your faces. The boys came to see who won, although Malcolm already knew. You were the only person he couldn’t beat at cards.

“She’s not exactly like me, she reads expressions and body language I read behaviors.”

Malcolm over explained. You found it cute but the other couple looked lost.

“Why don’t we make this fun? We all go against Y/n, two truths and a lie see if she can find the lies.”

Mitch suggest, leaning comfortably on the couch next to Ainsley. Malcolm sitting straight up next to you his hand resting on your hip. Looking mildly intrigued and quickly agreed. Mitch practically lunges to the ottoman in front of you.

“Okay! So..when I was sixteen I stole a car,

I secretly dated my best friends sister,

And I had a dog named Shakespeare.”

He quickly rattled off, the other two in the room watching us like hawks. I already knew about the car from when Malcolm made Gil run a background check. the second one looked like a truth but there was a hint of head tilt when he said ‘dated’

“You didn’t date her, you just slept together.”

It was crickets waiting for his response, he stares frozen until his eyes widen and jaw drops.

“Holy crap she’s good!”

“She was right?”

“Shakespeare, really?”

You and Malcolm shouted simultaneously.

He was equally surprised and impressed. He couldn’t figure out which was the lie. And yet you did and then some. He was proud but couldn’t stand you were that good at something you learned from a Netflix series.

“Move over, my turn!”

Ainsley now sat in Mitchs place. You noticed her foot tapping as she thought of what to say.

“I took ballet classes when I was 8, I wore a dress worth over a thousand dollars to prom and spilled punch all over it........and I over heard mom and dad talking about the girl in the box.”

Malcolms hand tightened on your thigh, you could feel his breath catch in his chest. She was trying to throw you off by playing with his emotions, it would’ve worked if she wasn’t so predictable. But it was a low blow that sadly didn’t surprise you.

“You didn’t spill the punch and you don’t know anything about the box.”

He relaxed once she nodded her head, And apologized to her brother. You could see the interest in her eyes as she asked question after question. One of them being what was beneficial with my little ‘gift’.

“Well I always know who’s lying before they open their mouth, plus knowing the signs of deception means you can manipulate them, which is why I can lie to your brother.”

Winking to your boyfriend during your last sentence. It was true you were amazing at lying, you never used it but no one ever knew about surprises you were planing.

“I’ll admit I’m impressed, but you definitely couldn’t lie to me I’d know.”

“Oh yeah? Looks like it my turn this time.”

Now facing Malcolm, you tucking you knee underneath you to appear more relaxed, you’d be more believable that way. He nodded for you to start. You grew up hearing the quote, don’t start a fight but once you’re in one win it. So if you had to pull a play from Ainsleys play book you would. You just won’t use something that traumatic. Keeping your shoulders loose and your breathing even.

“I used to own a classic car, I’ve never felt about anyone the way I do you, I cheated on you when you were in this hospital with the snake bite.”

Since you were telling the truth your expressions matched with the lie. But you knew Malcolm would be looking for forced reactions. Since you know what to look for in other people you could fake those same triggers, or hide them. He appeared calm as you spoke but the longer you stayed silent the more tense he got. While you were telling the lie you added extra detail, giving him more to analyze over the vague truths. Plus no one wants to believe someone they loved cheated on them.

“I don’t know.”

Malcolm sighed heavily, not only in defeat but confusion. He hated to think you did that to him, but he always thought that you deserved better, maybe you did too. Not being able to stand the pain in his eyes you explained.

“The car I had was a mustang, you’re the only man I’ve ever said I love you to, You mean to much to me I’d never cheat on you.”

Sliding closer with every sentence until you were practically in his lap as you finished. You could feel the stress leave his body, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and kissing your head.

Later that night you were curled up together in bed, his fingers lightly trailing up and down your arm staring at the ceiling.

“That was a stupid game.”

Softly laughing at his words, playing with the neckline of his grey shirt he sleeps in as you agreed.

“It was, but at least I got to show you my mad skills, I could take your job one day.”

You joke, successfully making him laugh and loosen up.

“It you, I’m always amazed by you. Showing off or not.

[writing-mermaid]

This is the night, it’s a beautiful night and we call it bella notte

Summary : When just a tiny push was what missed to make Sonny ask the new SVU detective out.

Pairing : Sonny Carisi x reader

Warnings : None I think

Word Count : 3 721

Author’s note : For the Anonymous who asked for the prompt : “Somewhere deep down, there’s good in you. Pretty far down”. I hope you will like it. Slightly inspired by Lady and the Tramp at some point. Pick a prompt or two or three and send an ask and a character or you can ask for stories with original characters  Don’t forget that feedback is appreciated and really important.

Song of the title : Bella Notte - Ruby Summer

Masterlist

Buy me a ☕

“Somewhere deep down, there’s good in you. Pretty far down”, detective Y/N Y/L/N says, looking at the teenage girl at the other side of the table in the interrogation room.

  The dark haired, tanned skin girl wears a NYPD hoodie and a pair of sweatpants that the detective in front of her gave her when they both arrived at the precinct two hours ago, in replacement of her ripped one. She was covered in blood and bruises.

  “Listen Sira, if you don’t tell me what happened and who did this to you, I can’t help you. I can even help you to find your family again and make sure that something like that doesn’t happen to you again. So, tell me. Like I said, I know that there is good in you, even if it’s deep down. If you help me, I can talk to my ADA and we can find a solution if you don’t want to go back with your parents. I’d do anything to help you but in exchange, you have to help me.”

  Sira looks at Y/N. She’s pretty, she thinks, with her Y/E/C eyes and her mid-long Y/H/C hair, her pink lips, and she looks brave too, what happened to me would never had happened to her. On the other hand, Y/N wants to slap herself, she referred to Carisi as “my” ADA, instead of “the precinct’s ADA”, feeling her cheeks blush. But it seems that Sira didn’t notice and she’s glad to have her back on two-way mirror, so nor her captain or the ADA would have noticed her slight blush at the mention of him.

  “I’m starving”, Sira finally states after a few minutes. “I want to eat, and then, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“Well, that’s a first step”, Y/N says, rising from her chair. “What do you want ? Chicken ? Ham ? Tuna ? Veggie ?”

“Tuna, with a Cherry Coke please.”

“I’ll be back in ten minutes”, Y/N tells her, taking her notebook with her and exiting the room.

  Meanwhile, in Olivia’s office, the captain and the ADA are looking inside of the interrogation room, watching, and listening to Y/N trying to convince Sira to tell her what they need.

  “She’s good”, Sonny turns to his former captain when he sees Y/N looking at Sira, who seems to be thinking about the detective’s offer.

“Why do you think I hired her, Carisi ? Not because she’s good looking. I mean, she’s a beautiful young woman, but that’s not the reason why I hired her”, Olivia tells him.

“Where did you say she worked before ?”

“Interpol.”

“Why would an Interpol agent leave her post to work for NYPD ?”, Sonny questions.

“I don’t know”, Olivia sighs, “Maybe she was only tired of it”, she shrugs.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes”, they hear Y/N say to Sira, making them looking back in the interrogation room, where they see Y/N getting up from her chair, her notebook in her hands.

  Olivia turns off the intercom when Y/N opens the door.

  “It seems that you managed to convince her to tell us things.”

“Well, I can be very persuasive apparently”, Y/N answers to her chief. “I’ll probably need your help for her when she tells me what we need to know”, she adds, turning to Sonny. “I have to go for a few minutes, she’s hungry and I promised her a tuna sandwich and a Cherry Coke.”

“You should eat something too”, Liv tells Y/N, removing her glasses and sitting behind her desk.

“Yes mom”, Y/N replies, smiling playfully at Olivia.

  Y/N exists her captain’s office and goes to her desk to take some money in her wallet, Sonny looking at her from the inside of Olivia’s office.

  “You should go with her, instead of watching her from afar. As she said, she’ll need you for Sira. And you should eat. I’m sure she would be glad of the presence of her ADA”, Olivia says, smiling to herself, insisting on the “her ADA” to give Sonny a hint.

“See ya later Captain”, Sonny grabs his suite jacket before taking the same way Y/N took two minutes before.

“Those two, not even seeing the oblivious”, Olivia sighs, watching Sonny jogging towards the elevators.

  A few minutes later, and thanks to his long legs, Sonny manages to catch Y/N at the store down the street.

  “Hey, do you mind if I join you ?”, he asks her, after he spots her in the snack area.

“Not at all”, she smiles up at him, hands full of food. “Sonny can you take a can of Cherry Coke up there please ? My hands are kinda occupied and I’m too tiny to grab one.”

“Sure, let me help you”, he says, taking her burden, in his big hands after grabbing some food for himself. “Do you intend to nourish a regiment ?”, he playfully questions, looking at all the food Y/N took.

“I don’t know how long Sira stayed without eating, so I might get carried away with all of this”, she motions to the food. “But I rather have too much than not enough.”

“My treat”, he says when they reach the checkout and Y/N takes her wallet out of her purse.

“You don’t have to”, she looks up at him. “I can pay for my food and Sira’s.”

“Let me buy it for you, it’s my pleasure.”

“Dominick Carisi, you’re too good to be true”, Y/N says, taking a shopping bag out of her purse to put the supplies in it.

  Sonny takes the bag of food from Y/N’s hand, his fingers grazing hers, and without knowing it, they both feel their cheek heat up at the light touch of their skins.

  “Do ya think she’ll tell you want you want to know ?”

“I hope so. I just want to help her, she seems lost and she needs us to help her.”

“Us ?”, Sonny raises one of his eyebrows.

“Yes, I thought that, as you are the ADA, you could help me with her, or help her with me. I… I just…”

“I see what you mean, and for the record, I’ll help you, don’t worry”, he smiles down at her.

“Thank you, Sonny.”

  Back at the precinct, the detective, followed by the ADA, goes back in the interrogation room.

  “Here for you”, Y/N says, handing the food to Sira.

“Thanks”, the teenager takes the sandwich from the Y/H/C haired woman in front of her, rips open the package and starts to devour it, barely taking time to chew.

“Slow down, you’ll choke”, the detective tells her protégée, putting down the can of Cherry Coke in front of her, along with a bottle of water.

“Sorry, I was hungry, haven’t eat for three days”, the teenage explains, her mouth full of bread and tuna, while Sonny and Y/N take a sit in front of her.

“Sira, I’d like to introduce you to someone. This is Dominick Carisi, the Assistant District Attorney I told you about.”

“Hey !”, she stops eating for a few seconds, just to gulp her Coke. “He’s cute, I understand better when you said he’s your ADA, and why you blushed”, Sira shoots at Y/N, with a sly grin on her face, looking at the two grown up in front of her turning red.

“No, I… Hum… When I said my ADA, I meant the precinct’s ADA. He’s a former cop, he used to work here before I arrived, so he knows everyone pretty well”, Y/N explains to put up a front.

“So Sira, detective Y/L/N told me you probably will have something to tell us. In exchange, as she said, we can help you. This is particularly important to be sure that what happened to you, never happened to anyone else.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you”, the teenager says.

  And she told them everything she knows. The name of her pimp, how many girls he has, what he makes them do and the way he treats them when they refuse. By the end of the day, Y/N has enough information to arrest the man.

  “Well, it should be enough to arrest him and lock him up for a while”, she tells Sonny after Sira left with a social worker that will take her in a shelter for the night, while she’s walking back to her desk in order to collect her things.

“You did a good job there Y/N.”

“Thanks.”

“Wanna have a drink ?”

“No, not tonight, I’m tired, and to be honest, I would have rather go with the others and arrest that bastard, but Liv said I earned my rest, so I’m going home”, she smiles up at him.

  It’s now or never, Sonny thinks, gathering his courage.

  “Y/N ?”

“Yes, Sonny ?”

“Would you like to have dinner with me on Friday night ?”

“Dominick Carisi, are you asking me out ?”

“Yes, I’m totally asking you out.”

“I’d love to”, she answers. “Friday night, I finish at six. I’ll text you my address and you pick me around seven ?”

“Sounds good to me”, he answers.

“See you on Friday night then”, she kisses his cheek and leaves the SVU floor, a smile on her face, leaving behind her a grinning Sonny, who reaches with his hand the spot when she kissed him.

“Are you okay Carisi ?”, Olivia asks, coming behind him.

“More than okay”, he answers, putting his suit jacket on one shoulder and going out, humming.

  Friday night seems not to come fast enough for Sonny, who barely had a glimpse on Y/N for the rest of the week as she’s busy with the victims and Sira’s testimony. She made an amazing work, what he mentioned to the court, while she was trying to reach all the families of those girls, kidnapped to serve as sex slaves. Most of the families were glad to find their children again, some other were unreachable, but he knew that Y/N wouldn’t abandon those girls until she finds a solution for the last one.

  “I’ll never be out of her”, she complains to Amanda, who’s finishing some paperwork at her desk.

“You’ve got something planed tonight ?”, the blonde detective asks her friend.

“Yep, going on a date with Carisi”, Y/N answers, making Amanda spitting the water she’s drinking.

“What ?!”, she says, wiping her chin and moping her desk. “You’re freaking kidding me ?”

“I don’t.”

“Jeez, he finally made his mind up to ask you out, was about time. I was tired to see him staring at you with blankly, and even if you didn’t notice it yourself, you definitely had a thing for the guy too.”

“Thing is, I’ll never be out and ready for him to pick me at seven… It’s almost six thirty…”, Y/N sighs.

“Okay, you know what, give me your size and there’s a store down the street, I’ll pick a dress for you, something that could do with your faux leather jacket and the shoes you’re wearing, and I’ll text Carisi to take you here instead of at your apartment. I’ll help you get ready and I’ll even help you to finish that case. Which girl do you have to finish with ?”

“Sheena Cassady, she’s the last one, I couldn’t reach her parents yet. I don’t understand if they don’t want to see her or don’t want her back or if there is another reason, but I don’t want to give up on her.”

“Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be back to doll you up for Carisi. Don’t worry, I have some make up in my desk, just in case.”

  Y/N just nods, not really knowing how to stop or answer Amanda who rushes outside of the precinct. She sighs and returns to her work, still trying to reach for Sheena’s parents. After ten minutes of tone in her ear, she decides to stop, feeling bad for Sheena. The detective gets up from her desk and goes straight to the break room, where Sheena is waiting for her to know if she has news from her family.

  “Hey Sheena, I hope you’re okay”, Y/N says, entering the room.

“It’s getting a little long detective Y/L/N, did you manage to call my folks ?”, she asks.

“I’m sorry sweetie”, the older woman apologizes. “It seems that I can’t have them on the phone. I tried the neighbors too, but nothing. I’ll have to call social services again for you, and I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright, don’t worry, I knew that they would probably don’t want me back”, Sheena shrugs.

“Okay, I’m back”, Amanda shouts from behind, going to the break room. “And I’ve got the perfect dress for you”, she adds, pulling a wine-red dress, with a fake leather brown belt. “I know you have a pair of black ballet flat in one of your drawers. Just a little make up, and he’ll fall at your feet.”

“I heard you had a date with the cute ADA”, Sheena smiles at Y/N.

“Yes, I do, I hope this will be okay.”

“I’m sure it’ll be. He seems to be a decent guy”, the teenage adds.

“He’s more than decent”, Amanda answers. “Hey Sheena, wanna help me doll Y/N up ?”

  The young girl nods and rises from the couch, a smile on her face, following the two detectives in the bathroom, picking up Y/N shoes on the way. A few minutes later, Sonny, dressed in his blue three-piece suite, goes out of the elevator, looking around for Y/N, or at least Amanda to tell her where the Y/H/C haired woman is.

  “What’s up Carisi ? I heard you got yourself a date with Miss Interpol”, Fin greets him, clasping his shoulder. “Be nice to her, she’s a great girl.”

“I know Fin, don’t worry I’ll treat her well”, Sonny responds to his former coworker and friend.

“Great, you’re here !”, Amanda states coming back to the bathroom, Sheena on her heels.

“What are you doing here ?”, Sonny asks his friend.

“Me ? Just playing fairy godmother for your date”, she just replies.

“You’re playing fairy godmother, you ? That’s new. Not a role I would see you in”, Sonny mocks her, but his voice fades when Y/N passes the door of the bullpen, leaving him speechless.

“We should have made a princess out of her before, I’ve never seen Carisi shutting up that long before”, Fin says, from behind the still silent ADA. “You look stunning Y/N”, he adds, moving towards his coworker to have a better view of her.

  He’s right, Sonny thinks, she’s stunning. Rollins really worked well.

  “Hey.”

“Hey. You look, magnificent.”

“Thanks Sonny. You don’t look that bad either”, Y/N smiles at him.

“I booked a table in an Italian restaurant if it’s okay for you.”

“Perfect. Have a nice night everyone”, she waves at her colleagues, before taking the tall and  handsome Italian’s arm.

  From the precinct to the restaurant, Sonny acts like a real gentleman with Y/N, who tries to remember if she already has been treated that well by a man once in her life. Sonny is perfect, holding the door, letting her walk in or out before him, pulling her chair once they’re settled at their table.

  “May I ask you something ?”, Sonny questions while they’re eating their pasta plates.

“Sure”, Y/N answers, taking a bite of her pasta dish, and humming in delight.

“Why did you leave your last job ?”

“I felt like, something wasn’t here anymore. A sense of weariness. I was tired. Tired of being constantly chasing after bad guys.”

“Well that didn’t really change”, Sonny laughs.

“You’re absolutely right about that. I was never home, I didn’t really have a social life, couldn’t really see my family, couldn’t have a love life”, she adds, looking up at him. “So, after seven years, I decided to resign. I wanted stability, to see my family more often, finally settle down somewhere, have a pet, find someone to spend my life with, maybe getting married and have children. It was hard for me, I didn’t have the impression to be useful. When I left, I took some vacations, because I really needed it. I came back here, looked for a place to live and one day, my former boss sent me an email with a job opportunity, saying that SVU needed a detective and that I would be perfect for the job. And to be honest I love it, I finally have the impression to do something good, to be useful.”

“And he was right”, Sonny states, “you’re damn good with the victims, the way you investigate. How you managed to convince Sira, Sheena and all the other girls to testify. How it made possible to dismantle that network. You’re an amazing cop.”

“Thanks Sonny, but to be honest, I would never have managed to convince Sira if you refused to help me.”

“I can’t refuse you anything”, he blurts, taking another bite of his plate, before realizing what he just said. “I mean…”

“That’s okay Sonny, I’m not going to demand you to offer me a ring just because you gave me a compliment”, Y/N says, taking a sip of the Italian wine in her glass, watching Sonny turning red. “Can I taste those ?”, she suddenly points at his plate.

“Sure, be my guest.”

  Y/N leans a little over her plate to sink her fork in Sonny’s, who wraps a bit of his own spaghetti on his fork. Neither of them notice that one particularly long spaghetti wrapped itself on both forks. And the particular way this restaurant places people, helps a lot in what happens next. As they both eat the spaghettis, musicians come around, distracting them from looking at each other, the spaghetti disappearing in both their mouths, until their lips are pressing against each other. They both move back, looking at each other with a small smile, and start to eat again, in a comfortable silence.

  After dinner, Sonny takes Y/N to an Italian neighborhood party in East Village. The street is full of people, music and there are some attractions here and there. A carrousel, a Ferris wheel, a band playing music and people dancing around the square. Fingers intertwined, Sonny and Y/N, wander through the fair, their eyes trying to watch everything. With the warmth of the evening, both of them left their jackets in Sonny’s car, enjoying the mild temperatures.

  “Do you want to dance ?”, Sonny asks, after a moment, pointing at the people dancing and at the band.

“I’d love to”, Y/N answers.

  He grabs her hand and leads her to the improvised dancefloor in the middle of the street. Sonny takes Y/N’s right hand in his left and put his right hand on her waist, while Y/N lays her left hand on his shoulder. As the band starts to play a very familiar tune, they start to sway, looking at each other, a small smile on their lips.

  Oh, this is the night, it's a beautiful night

And we call it bella notte

Look at the skies, they have stars in their eyes

On this lovely bella notte

  Sonny spins her around, while the two singers continue to sing the main theme from Lady and the Tramp. When Y/N is facing Sonny again, she moves closer to him and wraps her two arms around his neck, laying her head on his shoulder, letting the words of the song lull her, wishing that this moment never ends.

  Side by side with your loved one You'll find enchantment here The night will weave its magic spell When the one you love is near

For this is the night And the heavens are right On this lovely bella notte

  At some point, she rises her head and Sonny kisses her tenderly. At the end of the song, Sonny takes her hand back in his and they leave the now crowded dancefloor.

  “What’s next ?”, she asks with bright eyes.

“Well detective Y/L/N, what do you think about this ?”, he says, showing her the Ferris wheel.

“I think this is a very good idea ADA Carisi”, she smiles at him, pulling him towards the merry-go-round.

  Sonny buys two tickets, and they are seated in the cabin, enjoying the view as the wheel goes up. When it stops at the top, they can see a few neighborhoods, and look up at the stars.

  “This night is perfect”, Y/N says, leaning into Sonny’s side. “I don’t want it to be over. I’m so glad you finally asked me out.”

“I’m glad I did it”, Sonny answers, putting his arm around her shoulder, his chin on her head. “I should have asked you long before if I knew this would be so perfect.”

  After another hour spent at the fest, and after two gelatos, Sonny brings Y/N back home.

  “This was the best date I’ve ever have”, Y/N says when Sonny stops in front of her building’s entrance, his car parked a little lower down the street. “Thank you, Sonny.”

“Me too”, he replies, scratching the back if his neck. “Does this mean I can have hope for a second date ?”

“I’ll gladly go out with you again Dominick Carisi, a second time, and a third time and a fourth time”, she pulls him down to her by his tie, her lips crashing on his.

  She releases his tie when he kisses her back, wrapping her arms around his neck, to pull him further into her, while his hands find their way to her hips. When they pull away, lips swollen, Y/N smiles up at him one last time, before climbing the few stairs to her building’s front door.

  “I’m waiting for your call ADA”, she playfully says.

“And I’ll call you detective”, he answers, on the same tone.

  Y/N blows a kiss and closes the door. When the door closes, Sonny goes back to his car, almost dancing on the way, already planning his next date with Y/N. He is more than happy to finally have been able to ask out the woman of his dreams and to have make it the start of something that he knows he’ll cherish for the rest of his life.

Taglist :

@bastard-man-barba​, @storiesofsvu​

[tonio-dawson]

The Perfect Trap

OC x Antonio Dawson

Crossover Blue Bloods x Chicago PD

Words: 4,401

A/N: This is my very first crossover, please be nice :) This story follows the life of Maggie Reagan, twin sister of Jamie Reagan which makes her the youngest of the Reagan family. For context, here is the Reagan family tree. This story took place in New York, I might be writing another one that takes place in Chicago so we can focus on the CPD Intelligence Unit. Hope you like it!

---

"I have to say I don't like this one bit," Frank Reagan finally spoke. “Dad, we’ve talked about this,” said Danny. 

“Yes and I gave it a go, but I just want to say again I don’t like this idea,” Frank gazed to his youngest.

“None of us like it any more than you do,” Maggie answered, all eyes were on her and her fiancee who sat next to her, clenching his jaw. He gave it a long pause, “We can still call it off,” his raspy voice sounded heavy and his remark raised many eyebrows, “Hey! Don’t do this to me brother,” Danny complained, pointing his fork to his soon-to-be brother in law. “Easy, Daniel,” said Henry at the end of the table, trying to calm his eldest grandson.

Maggie Reagan is the youngest of the Reagan family. She followed her family legacy, entering the police academy around the same time as her twin Jamie, but she moved to Chicago wanting a clean slate without the burden of her last name in New York. On the job for eight years, now she’s working as a junior detective in Narcotics. Maggie met Antonio Dawson on a joint operation with the Intelligence Unit two years ago and started dating not long after. Much to her surprise, Antonio quickly grew very close to her family including his hot-headed brother, Danny. Apparently being a hard willed yet by-the-book cop was the ticket to be loved by the entire Reagan family. A big reason why it was rather easy to get all of their blessings to put a ring on Maggie’s finger six month prior to this dinner.

So, the commotion at the Sunday dinner table isn’t about their wedding at all. Danny, who had been picking Antonio’s brain for a lot of his cases, finally caught a big one. Danny’s case this time has become an official police matter between CPD and NYPD, both wanting to keep feds out of it. Teo Rodriguez, who ran a drug ring five years ago in Chicago has resurfaced in New York. Back then, Teo managed to avoid any conviction thanks to the loyalty of his crew  in Chicago. None of them gave Teo up and no crime that he pulled had hard evidence against him. Though he remains free in Chicago, CPD made sure that his operation was crippled and that Teo cannot do business in Chicago again. Not long after a major operation to convict all of his crews, Teo skipped town and fell off the CPD radar. 

A couple of months prior, Danny caught execution-style homicides in Harlem with markings over the victims. It’s obvious that this is gang-related killings, but he never saw these markings before. He had been banging his heads as that was already a third homicide, the killer had definitely been playing with him but he was no close in identifying him. Not until he shared it with Antonio who filled him with useful information. With Antonio and CPD’s aid, Danny came close to locating Teo, but he ran with the same old problem: without hard evidence, they didn’t have enough to convict him. 

They’re back to square one. And so, Antonio and Danny came up with an idea - a risky one. Setting up a trap. Knowing Teo, everything is an eye for an eye. Five years ago, when Antonio arrested Teo’s second-in-command, Pedro, CPD held his 10-year-old son and threatened him to give the kid up to social service and never to see him again if Pedro didn’t give himself up. Pedro finally came to the precinct and had himself arrested. However not 24 hours later, Diego, Antonio’s son went missing. He was finally found unharmed, but they could never connect Diego's abduction to Teo.

The idea was to provoke Teo by revealing Antonio and have him arrest Teo’s sister who lives in New York. They hoped that if Teo took the bait and made the connection, his next move would be taking Maggie into hostage. Being Danny’s sister and Antonio’s girlfriend, Maggie is the perfect trap. They would then set up surveillance and wiretap on Teo, so they could finally catch him red-handed. This is of course an operation with a lot of ifs. And a huge risk for Maggie. Antonio had second-doubting his idea at least a hundred times but Danny convinced him to go with it. With Frank’s blessing, the operation was a go. It’s a risky idea, but a necessary one.

On the dining table, Antonio shook his head looking at Maggie, “Sorry. I know this is my idea and everything, but...,” “Hey, it’s our idea,” Danny corrected. “Yeah Danny, that’s why we all don’t like the idea,” said Jamie, which earned a chuckle from everyone. Danny scoffed, he really likes his future in-law, but doesn't like the detective popularity contest at the dining table. 

“It’s the only way out if we want to get this scumbag,” said Maggie. Frank let out a sigh, “Do what you got to do. But please, be safe,” Frank shot a look at Antonio and Danny. “In case you forget, we are the three finest detectives in the country, Dad,” Danny replied with a smile while Antonio kept clenching his jaw, wondering just how things can go. 

---

A few days later, they started the operation. “Teo Rodriguez!” Danny shouted, he rounded the street near Teo’s apartment, catching him just after he exited the building. “Oh if it isn’t my favorite Detective,” Teo replied with a smug, “What is it? If you have another conspiracy theory, I’m not interested. Already said I have nothing to do with your homicides,” he tried to walk off but Danny stopped him. “It’s not that, I thought you wanted to see something. Come with me,” Teo didn’t comply at first but he finally gave up when Danny revealed her sister’s name. 

Danny took Teo to central booking, across the hall, behind the bars - a sight was presented to Teo: Antonio was holding his sister, Ella, cuffed and ready to be processed. From afar, they watched the scene, “I believe that’s your sister? But who’s that next to her? Do you remember him?” Danny asked. “Ella! No, you can’t do this!” he screamed. Ella only turned her heavy head and gave Teo a disappointed look before disappearing to the next room. 

After processing Ella, Antonio approached Teo, “Teo Rodriguez, remember me?” Antonio asked.

“Not really. But I do remember Diego,” Teo replied with a smug. 

It pained Antonio but he kept his cool, “Well, perhaps Ella facing a 5-year charge will jog your memory. You thought after leaving Chicago, you can start all over again because no one knows you. But we know. It took NYPD a while but now that they’re working with me, we all know well that you like to keep business close to the family. I tracked down Ella long before you did. That mom of yours really does like sleeping around…” Antonio continued.

But Teo laughed hysterically instead, “Oh you like playing games now, Detective Dawson?! Let’s see who’s the better player.” 

“So you do remember him,” Danny said, “Reagan and Dawson..let me guess, extended family? If you have a cop family here in New York I’m gonna find out. Remember Detective, this ain’t Chicago.” Teo pointed his finger at Antonio and left.

“Remind me, how did you know about Ella again?” Danny asked when they got to the car.

“After the investigation, we realised that none of them snitch on Teo not because they’re scared, but because they think of him as family. We dug into his childhood and found out that he actually has a lot of step siblings. One way or another his crew has blood ties,” Antonio explained.

“So when he moved to New York, he only had few contacts. Since his mom has children everywhere, he always has family,” Danny continued. “Long story short. Let’s just hope he took our bait,” Antonio replied.

----

“Is this really necessary?” Maggie whined. “Come on Mags, you need to be seen in the city, reuniting with old friends, having fun.” said Jamie while handing over her dress. 

“It’s 4pm in the afternoon,” said Maggie. “And you are known to be an early drinker, since when you’re complaining about drinking?” Jamie asked. “Since knowing my fiancee and my brother is taking down a very dangerous criminal,” she answered while getting ready. 

“Let’s paint the town red and hope that Teo is indeed as smart as Antonio predicted,” Jamie smiled. He called up a couple of his most trusted cops, pretending to be Maggie’s old friends. Four of them were heading to a corner bar in East Village. 

Detective Baez, Danny’s partner, had been tracking down Teo’s movement with an unmarked car. She’s sitting outside of Teo’s apartment in her car while their team has been listening in to phone calls and text messages from Teo. Nothing suspicious of yet, but close to 7pm, Teo texted his accomplice to meet him somewhere in East Village.  Baez stayed put and ordered Danny to stand by on Maggie.

At around 7pm, Jamie, Maggie, and their friends had been spending time at the corner bar. They haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary. Until three suspicious looking men sat down next to their table, exchanging looks, but no sign of Teo yet. Down the road, Danny and Antonio parked two blocks away, with a TAC team parked further down. 

It’s been half an hour and no sign of Teo, nor that the group of men does anything. Is it a false alarm? Jamie and Maggie sense that something is wrong but they can’t figure it out yet.

“Something feels off. If those are Teo’s guys, why don’t they make a move? Should I go to the back alone to lure them?” Maggie asked. “No, Maggie. Too risky.” said Jamie. 

“Yeah but if you’re around Jamie, they won’t make the move. I’m good with Sandra and Alex here,” asked Maggie. Jamie looked hesitant but eventually yielded, “You keep her safe, okay?” Alex nodded and gave him a reassurance squeeze in the shoulder, “We got this, Reagan,” said Alex.

Jamie went out the bar and joined Danny and Antonio in their car. Another half an hour, still no sign of Teo and no chatter on his phone, Antonio also started to be uneasy. 

“I think you two should join Baez, I don’t think he’s coming here,” said Antonio to Danny and Jamie.

“Leaving you alone with our sister? No,” Danny quickly rejected.

“Come on. I’ve got the cavalry here with me,” Antonio pleaded. “I feel more safe if you have eyes on Teo is all.” 

Danny yielded, went out of the car and took Jamie’s car heading to Teo’s place, “You spotted him yet, Baez?” he called Baez. “No. No movement from his apartment since he’s back from the bodega an hour ago,” Danny and Jamie looked at each other and looked for the bodega. 

“What is he wearing?” Danny asked. “Grey hoodie, black jeans, and white shoes,” said Baez over the phone. “Shit,” Danny muttered. “What is it?” asked Baez. “I’m at the Bodega looking at the security footage. Looks like he paid someone to wear his clothes and went back to his apartment.”

“Well his phone is still at home, so is his car,” Baez reported. “He must know we’ve been sitting on him,” Danny shook his head.

Jamie filled Antonio with the new development, “Shit. We got played.” Antonio cursed himself, he can’t believe all their plan had been crushed. Teo is a man of his words, Antonio is absolutely certain that he’ll take revenge but where is he now? He wrecked his brain and recalled his last conversation with Teo, that’s when he realized his mistake, “Jamie!!” Antonio screamed on the phone Danny swore he could see waves coming out of Jamie’s phone.

“It’s not Maggie….it’s Erin. My extended family. Go find her, I’ll join you.” Antonio’s voice was shaking in panic, he’s about to shift the car gear when he heard a gunshot coming from the corner bar where Maggie was. “Damn it!” he ran out along with the TAC team to the bar.

Danny and Jamie could not hear anything more from Antonio, the line got disconnected after the gunshot, but they decided to trust the man and make a run for Erin. 

Danny was on edge while Jamie drove as fast as he could, “Danny, there’s a thing between us twins. I have a feeling that she’s okay.” said Jamie. “Okay if that you trying to calm me down, I’ll take it. I wish you can say the same for Erin,” Danny was beyond angry at himself. This operation was under his watch, and so far nothing according to his plan. 

Danny kept calling Erin but no answer. Baez pinged her phone and put her in a three-mile radius around her apartment. “Please Erin, please be home,” Danny mumbled. The ride was only 15 minutes but it felt like forever for the Reagan boys. Erin’s car was parked in front of her apartment building, but when they got in, she’s not home. 

Meanwhile, the situation at the bar wasn’t pretty either. The TAC team surrounded the bar, already securing civilians. Antonio could not believe what he’s seeing, it was like seeing a scene from a movie: gun standoff between the three men versus Alex and Sandra, with Maggie held on a chokehold, gun on her temple. Antonio quickly made his way in, which gained a strong protest from the perp that held Maggie, “Don’t move! Or I’ll kill her!" he yelled. Antonio took the risk coming in, but he’s fairly certain that Teo didn’t order his guys to kill Maggie.

Antonio rose his hands up, “If you don’t know already, you’re holding hostage a Chicago Police Detective. And I guess you didn’t expect the two friends here are also cops,” he pointed at Alex and Sandra.

“Now, I am from Chicago too so I wanna make sure that I bring her safely home. I know Teo sent you. And you’ve failed already because the task was to kidnap her, right? Why don’t we make this quick man-” Antonio kept talking to shake them off. “Shut up!! Or I’ll kill her!” the perp became more and more nervous. Maggie exchanged looks with Antonio, trying to understand his play. Antonio looked at her, Maggie looked calm, she trusted Antonio could get her out of the situation. 

“I know it’s not the deal. The order was not to kill anyone,” Antonio tried to win them over.

“You don’t know anything,” the one holding Maggie pulled his trigger, the two others looked utterly confused and panicked. As the prep adjusted his arm position, Maggie elbowed him hard on his stomach, pushed his arm up and duck down. His shots were fired but went to the ceiling. Antonio tackled him as Maggie crawled to the side. Antonio pulled his gun on him, “Don’t you even think about it,” and the perp dropped his gun. 

The two other men were taken aback wanting to shoot back, but Alex and Sandra shot their legs first and lunged at them. They were apprehended quickly and taken outside. 

Antonio asked to deal with the one holding Maggie earlier. He was cuffed now so Antonio threw him on the table pressing him hard with his body. Maggie watched in disbelief from the side with the other officers. She had seen Antonio in action a few times before, but never quite like this. 

“Where is Teo?!” Antoino screamed pinning him to the table, “I don’t know man-” the perp laughed. 

“You want to laugh now?” Antonio pulled his gun and placed it on the back of the perp’s knee, “Well, you should know, in Chicago, we play things differently. There’s no need to be politically correct. Now where does he say he wants to stake out Erin?” 

Maggie just put two and two together now, Teo has levelled up his revenge game, he went after Danny’s two sisters. Not caring about all the eyes, Antonio put his hand around his neck now and pressed his gun more, “I’m not playing here-” the perp was shaking and finally gave in, “I don’t know the name of the place, Blue something… a diner near her apartment. Now let me go!!” he screamed and coughed. Antonio threw him to the ground and motioned the other officers to take him. He knew that he would get in trouble later coercing a perp like that, but he couldn't care less.

He quickly called Danny, giving him Teo’s location and possibly Erin’s. After that, he turned to Maggie, who was still processing the situation, “Babe, you okay?” he reached out to hold her hands, she nodded but suddenly gave Antonio a tight hug. “Hey, you’re okay, I’m here,” Antonio tried to calm her down. She was on the verge of tears when Antonio pulled her away, he cupped her face with his hands, “I love you Maggie and will always protect you.” he paused and continued, “I hate to do this, but unless you can pull yourself to be Detective Reagan now, I suggest you get check out on an ambo because I still have to save your sister..” he said it calmly but not leaving the sense of urgency. Maggie bit her lip, realizing that her day was far from over and that her fiancee is still a cop on a job. So she took her deepest breath, “Let’s go, Detective Dawson,” she gave his hand one last tight squeeze before quickly making her way inside his car. Antonio nodded, still worried but he knows Maggie can do this. She was a cop before she was his girlfriend afterall.

Danny and Jamie ran across the street together with Baez who had joined them. They didn’t notify anyone yet as they don’t want to spook out Teo and put Erin in more danger. The Blue Whale diner was a bit more crowded than usual. Danny came in and asked Erin to the front counter. They confirmed she’s in the back, when he showed Teo’s picture the barista nodded and a few seconds later they heard a commotion from the back. People started screaming and ran out. Teo has found Erin.

“Jamie! Baez! Secure everyone!” Danny yelled. Turned out that Teo didn’t expect that Erin would recognize him right away - she immediately reached for her phone to call 911 when she saw him. And when he realized this, he quickly drew his weapon out, taking Erin before she could press dial.

Danny went to the back of the restaurant while Jamie and Baez were still out front making sure everyone’s out. Seeing Danny, Teo held Erin tighter and put his gun on her side.

“You Reagans. Think you’re so smart,” Teo smirked.

Danny drew his weapon to Teo, “It’s over Teo. You didn’t get Maggie either,” said Danny. “Oh yeah? So, I have more reason to kill this one then,” he grinned. Danny’s stomach was twisted. He could make the shot but Teo’s too close to Erin.

The standoff felt like forever. Danny tried to talk their way out of the situation. What took Baez and Jamie so long? He didn’t have back up. So he could only stall and talk nonsense to Teo about making a deal to get him out of jail. 

Just when Danny was about to run out of options, Antonio came through the back door with Maggie, both weapons drawn to Teo, “It’s over Teo, you’re surrounded. You put the gun down real slow, or we take you out,” Antonio said calmly. Teo looked at Antonio, "You think you finally won, Detective Dawson?" His grip on Erin became tighter "Oh if I had known earlier that the famous Reagan family had ties to you…" He shifted his aim, his weapon pointed at Maggie this time. 

"Teo, if you want to walk out alive…your only way out is me. My brother and Detective Dawson here won't think twice about shooting you," said Maggie. “Detective Dawson? You think I did not know you’re his girlfriend?!” Teo shouted. 

She looked straight to Teo but her gaze was to Danny's. She gave Danny a slight nod, “I know you know now. Teo, now please…” Maggie begged, throwing her arms up like she was about to surrender, “Please, don’t hurt…” before she could finish her sentence, Danny fired a bullet to Teo's shoulder that was holding the gun. 

Teo's gun went off but his aim was horrible, Maggie dodged his bullet and in a split second, she ducked and pulled Erin who was already on the ground towards her. Teo now on the ground, with Danny on top of him cuffing him. He grunted, Antonio kept his gun pointed at Teo and put it on Teo’s temple. "Tony, don’t. He's not worth it." Danny looked at him. Antonio's eyes were filled with anger, "I'm gonna make sure you're going to the death chair, and you’ll wait for that agonizing day in misery," Antonio hissed when getting him up. Teo still didn't look defeated, Danny shoved him and let Baez take him to the station.

Maggie held onto Erin as tight as she could. Today was horrifying. "Erin...are you okay?" Erin hugged his sister tighter, "I am now, thanks to you," to that, Maggie suddenly sobbed at Erin's shoulder. Looked like she had it worse than Erin. Erin looked confused, she never saw Maggie cry this way. Not even after the incident that made her move to Chicago 9 years ago. She held her, looking to Danny and Antonio for explanation. They may not be the closest siblings but Erin loves her siblings equally don't matter what. Antonio looked at Erin with an apologetic look, feeling responsible that he didn’t force Maggie to sit out after the bar shoot out. 

Antonio approached her, "Hey Maggie, your arm is bleeding. Let's get you check out, the ambo's here," a bullet must've grazed Maggie’s arm during the first shootout. Maggie didn’t move an inch, still hugging her sister tight. He rubbed her back, closing in to her ear, "Come on, let Erin go. She's okay and you can go see her after. Okay? Danny will take care of her,” Maggie pulled away and looked her sister in the eye, "Erin I'm sorry…" still sniffing. "Hey, none of this is your fault, Maggie. And look, your sleeve is dripping with blood, go with Antonio," Erin reassured. Antonio pulled Maggie close to his side and walked out holding her. 

After Maggie left it’s Erin now who could not take it anymore, "Oh Danny, that was too close to comfort," she buried her head against Danny’s chest. He put his arm around her, "I’m so sorry sis. It's over now, it's a good thing that we rehearsed that move over and over again," said Danny comforting her, "One hell of a day," he muttered.

--

Outside, Maggie was still shaking while getting patched up. Antonio held her hand the entire time, "I'm so sorry," was all Antonio could say to her. He knew his fiancee was hurting more in her heart than physically. But he did not know what to say, his head was still full with anger, heart pumping, adrenaline still hadn't washed out. He saw Jamie and motioned him to come over to the ambulance. 

“Hey Mags, you okay?” Jamie asked. “Um.. yeah no,” Maggie started sobbing. Antonio pulled her into a hug, his brows curled and his face spoke a thousand words to Jamie. “It’s over, okay? It’s just adrenaline wearing off,” he realized that Maggie was still shaking. “You did good, babe. You did good.” he whispered to her ears. 

Maggie pulled away, seemingly calmed down, she looked at Jamie, “I uh… I put Erin in danger, I got the whole cavalry looking after me and not one on Erin’s side…” tears streaming again. Antonio sighed, looking at Jamie for help, this is going to take long to recover from.

“We can’t go to that rabbit hole Mags, you know that. If you keep doing this then Danny would probably beat himself up, he brought everyone into this,” Jamie tried to reason. 

“Or me- I should’ve forced you to stay after the bar,” Antonio’s words are shaky now, he’s also on the verge of tears, seeing Maggie like this, not his best forte. 

Thankfully one of the officers came to break the moment before Antonio shed any tears, “Detective Dawson? The commissioner is on the line,” Antonio realized he had left his phone in the car and hadn't given an update to Frank yet. He nodded at the officer and turned to Maggie, “I’ve got a lot of explaining to do to the NYPD. You sit tight here with Jamie, okay?” Maggie nodded as he left. 

“How can you all be so strong?” she asked Jamie. “We’re not Mags. We just pretended to be, so the others can be,” Jamie took his twin sister’s hand. “If you can’t do it for us, do it for Antonio. He’s the one that got it the hardest. Danny is a close second though and that’s just because he’s a Reagan. But marrying a PC daughter and getting in the middle of this mess? Fiancee of the year that he is,” Jamie chuckled, tried to lighten up the mood. 

Now that Maggie can put things into perspective she put on a brave face, “I’ll start pretending now,” she smiled at him. “Yeah, you can be all sappy and sad when we’re alone at my place?” he offered. “With a bucket of ice cream and a superhero movie?” Maggie asked. “Yeah, can you give Antonio something to do tonight? Eddie’s got the night shift so we can have the night for the two of us.” he said.

“Oh, I won’t have him tonight. After today, I bet Danny would be drinking his night away with him…”

“So, it’s officially our night then,” Jamie hugged his twin sister.

[demigodreading]

Movie Night: Ella Alina Benson Series

Day 2: Movie Night

 Characters: Amanda Rollins, Olivia Benson, Noah Benson, Ella Alina Benson

Relationship: Amanda Rollins / Olivia Benson. Olivia Benson/ Original Female Character

Warnings: Fluff

Read on AO3

They had been dating close for a year now. Shortly after Ella’s sixteenth birthday and when Noah had officially come into the Benson household was when Olivia and Amanda had made the decision to let the whole world know they were involved. By the time that Noah was officially adopted they were living together. That was when Sunday movie nights became an every-week ordeal. They rotated every time on whose turn it was to pick the movie. When it was Noah’s turn they always put five kid movies in front of him and whichever one they crawled to first was the winner. This week it was Ella’s turn and it was one of the most important movie nights because it was the first time her girlfriend was coming for movie night.

Her girlfriend had met both Olivia and Amanda before but a movie night invitation had never been extended. However, when they had reached their sixth month anniversary Olivia had told Ella to have Melissa come over. Ella had been worried about it all weekend. She had switched her movie choice six times before she finally settled on Cruel Intentions knowing that she had seen it five hundred times and was one of Melissa’s favorites. She chose her favorite pajamas which consisted of Olivia’s old NYPD shirt and a pair of black shorts Amanda had bought her. 

Amanda and Olivia watched as Ella ran from room to room Noah sitting between them sucking on his sippy cup. Amanda glanced over at Olivia, “I’m surprised she hasn’t burned a hole in the carpet with her pacing.”

“Heard that!” Ella screamed from her room.

“Baby girl, why are you so nervous? We have all met Melissa before and we like her,” Olivia said as Ella came back into the living room.

“It’s family night! This is a big deal Momma,” Ella said and then jumped as there was a knock on the door, “That’s her.”

“Do you want me to get the door? Or are we just going to let her sit in the hallway all night?”

“Momma!” Ella said rolling her eyes as she reached for the door handle.

Ella took Melissa into a large hug after giving her a quick kiss. She grabbed her hand and pulled her into the living room, “Mel you remember my Momma Olivia and my Mom Amanda and of course that little squirt is Noah.”

Amanda’s heart stopped as she heard the words spill from Ella’s mouth. That was the first time Ella had never called her Mom before. Olivia was the first one to speak, “Welcome Mel. Ella already picked out the movie so get settled in and Amanda will get all the snacks passed out.”

Mel thanked Liv as she and Ella settled on the couch. Amanda handed out popcorn and candy to the two of them before curling back up against Olivia. They placed Noah in his playpen letting him wander around until he curled up and fell asleep. Halfway through the movie Olivia glanced over at where Mel was passed out in Ella’s arms. She smiled at Amanda giving her a small kiss on the cheek.

“Looks like all the kids are sleeping. When the movie is over I’ll take Mel home,” Olivia said as she took Amanda’s hand.

“Just let her spend the night Liv. We can have them sleep on the couch. It’s late,” Rollins said looking in their direction, “They look too cute to disturb.”

“You are just saying that because she called you Mom tonight,” Olivia grinned.

“You heard it too! I wasn’t just dreaming it?” Rollins asked hitting Olivia’s arm.

Olivia grabbed her arm letting out a dramatic groan, “Hey their Georgia Peach. Why are you hitting me?” “I’m so sorry love,” Amanda said quickly kissing Olivia’s arm, “I’m just a little excited.”

“You should be. Our daughter just called you Mom for the first time. That’s a big deal,” Olivia smiled giving Amanda another kiss.

“Moms! Go get a room or something,” Ella groaned breaking Olivia and Amanda’s kiss.

“Hey there, be nice to us. You should be glad that your Moms are in love,” Olivia retorted, “And we were going to let you have Mel spend the night.”

“You mean it?” 

“With STRICT rules! You both will be sleeping on separate couches and if you try anything. We will know it,” Amanda replied as Olivia reached for Noah in his playpen.

“I thought Momma was the one who made all the rules, not you Mom.”

“I’m giving her the night off,” Amanda winked at Olivia.

“I could get used to that,” Olivia laughed leaning down to give Ella a kiss on her forehead, “Goodnight baby girl. I love you to the moon and back.”

Ella gave a quick kiss to Olivia’s cheek, “Goodnight Momma. I love you most. Goodnight Noah. Sissy loves you.”

Olivia leaned down again giving Mel a long hug, “Goodnight Mel. Sleep well. If you need anything just knock on our door.”

Mel thanked her and then Olivia went to Noah’s room to tuck him into bed. Amanda helped Ella set up the couches as a bed. She hugged them both goodnight before sneaking a kiss on Noah’s forehead. As she stepped back into the living room Mel was already sleeping but Ella was wide awake. 

“Manda?” Ella called out sitting up from her spot on the couch.

“Yeah, sweet pea?”

“Can you come sit with me for a minute.”

“Of course,” Amanda said sitting down next to Ella wrapping her arm around her shoulder, “What’s on your mind darling?”

“When I called you Mom earlier… was that okay?”

“More than okay. It made me so happy,” Amanda said, “I love you daughter.”

“I love you Mom,” Ella said wrapping her arms tightly around Amanda, “Do you think you will marry Momma one day?”

Amanda paused for a moment, “I was gonna go ring shopping on Friday. Want to come with me?”

Ella shook her head excitedly as Amanda gave her another kiss on the forehead. Further down the hall, Olivia stood in the doorway of the bedroom smiling. When she heard Amanda get up from the couch she rushed into the bed. She hurried under the covers and pulled out her book pretending she had been reading the whole time. Amanda smiled as she entered the room running and flopping on the bed. 

Olivia laughed wrapping her arms around Amanda, “You are going to wake up the kids with your shenanigans.”

“Says the woman laughing,” Amanda grinned, “Tonight was a good movie night.”

“The best one yet,” Olivia agreed giving Amanda a kiss, “Let’s go to sleep my love.”

Amanda nodded as Olivia turned off the light. She kept her head on Olivia’s chest as Olivia slowly started to run her fingers through the blonde’s hair. As Amanda started to doze off she whispered, “I love you Olivia Benson.”

“I love you most Amanda Rollins.”

[slowly-writing]

Part of the Family: Part 8

Avengers x Kid!Reader

Part 1  Part 9

Word Count: 2635

You’re still feeling antsy later that night and you can’t fall asleep. You had texted MJ for a while, but it was late and you didn’t want to keep her up all night. You decided to grab a snack around 1am and saw the TV in the common room was still on. You walk in to turn it off only to see your mom sitting on the couch. She’s staring off in a daze, obviously not watching the movie that’s playing in front of her.

“Hey mom?” You call softly, drawing her attention. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, everything’s fine sweetheart,” she smiles at you, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I can tell something’s wrong, you don’t have to tell me what it is but I can sit with you, if that’s alright?” She smiles, a bit more genuinely this time, and pats the spot next to her.

“I’ll always say yes to time with my favorite teenager,” she says and you chuckle softly. She wraps her arm around your shoulder and you sit in silence for a while. You’re half paying attention to the weird action movie when her voice draws your attention. “We had a really hard time on that mission.”

“In Sokovia? What happened?” You ask and you feel her arms tighten around you.

“A lot. It got really bad. I didn’t think we were gonna make it out.” You stiffen slightly and look up at her to see her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I thought it was over, and all I could think about was that I was leaving you alone again. Wanda, she has these powers. She made us see things, our greatest fear I guess. She didn’t know what she was doing, she thought she was on the right side. But I saw you. You were all alone again and scared and then it almost happened. One mission and you almost lost your whole family in one fell swoop.”

“I wouldn’t have made it,” you say softly as her tears start to fall.

“I like to think you would. But these missions…they’re not a joke, y/n. Things get dangerous really fast. All you want to do is help, use the gifts you have for good, and I love you for it. Seeing your face when you came back from that first mission, I think that was the proudest moment of my life. Knowing that my daughter was so happy to be able to help people, I like to think I did something right to help you become that way. In that moment, all I wanted to do was send you on every mission that I could, see that joy in your eyes and see the good you could do in this world,” she smiles at you as she wipes the tears.

“So many of our missions are running in and out of bases with barely anybody there. We knock a few people out, grab what we need, and leave with barely a scratch. I forget how dangerous this job is but then I go on missions like this and I remember what we’re really up against. I remember it’s not always Hydra agents who think they’re saving the world or stupid kids who think on the right side of the fight they know nothing about. It’s people who are truly evil, people who want to destroy this world and will go right through us to do it. I remember why I didn’t want you to go on missions in the first place.” Her voice cracks and you take her hand.

“When we decided to go down with the ship… I hated myself for leaving you alone, but it was okay. Because at least you weren’t there. None of us were coming home, but you weren’t part of that. You’d make it out. That’s why I don’t want you out there. I need you to be okay.” She finishes and you sit in silence for a few moments before you respond.

“I know you want me to stay safe, mom. And I get it, but that isn’t a choice I can really make anymore. I was talking to dad earlier, about what these…powers I guess, have taken from me, and it’s a lot. I can’t be normal anymore and that sucks. If I could flip a switch and get rid of them, sometimes I think I would. But I can’t, so here we are.” You say softly.

“By any semblance of logic I shouldn’t be here. Some scientists in a lab decided to play God and I’m the product of it. That shouldn’t have happened, but it did. I somehow got here and got in a position where I can do a lot of good. And that’s a really scary spot to be in. I think all of us can agree on that. No matter what the moment was, we all had a moment where we questioned if we were right for this job. If we were good enough to be what people think we are,” you say, trying to put into words the thoughts that have been swirling around your head since Fury showed up all those years ago.

“None of us know when our time is going to come. I could walk outside tomorrow and get hit by a car, and that could be it. Well… I don’t think a car could do it, a train maybe,” you joke and you hear your mom laugh lightly. “My point is, we don’t know what’s waiting for us, but we do know we can do a lot of good before it comes. I didn’t ask for these powers, but I got them, and when you can do the things that we can do and you don’t, and then bad things happen, they happen because of you.”

“When did you get to be so smart?” Your mom teases and you smile, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“I had the smartest Avenger as a mother, a little was bound to rub off on me.” She smiles and kisses the top of your head.

“You going out there still really scares me,” she says softly and you smile.

“It scares me too. Anytime any of us put on our suits and walk out the door I’m afraid of what’s waiting. But if we let that fear stop us, then those guys win. We can’t stop everyone, and one day one of us is bound to go down. It’s just statistics. We can only cheat death so many times before it catches up. But if they don’t go through us, they’re going to go through a lot of innocent people who can’t do anything to stop it. I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t live with myself if I let that happen.”

“I get it, I’ll let you go on the next mission,” your mom says and you laugh. “I love how much you care. Never let go of that, love.”

“I’ll do my best.”

xxxxx

“Hey Wanda, so as you saw I kinda don’t have my bike anymore and therefore I can’t drive us to school today,” you say sheepishly at breakfast the next morning. “It’s like 5 miles, we can jog there if we leave soon, get some extra conditioning in? I don’t really know if your powers work that way but-”

“That sounds good to me,” she cuts you off with a smile and you nod, calming yourself down a bit. Maybe it’s the leftover emotions from the day before, a lot happened, but you’re still really antsy.

“Hey mom? Can you pick us up after school? I don’t wanna make MJ walk that far,” you ask her and she pauses.

“How long have you been driving her around on that bike without a helmet?” she asks and you wince.

“Since...uh, since you started letting me drive it to school,” you say softly and she rolls her eyes.

“Seriously, y/n? And you never got pulled over?” she asks in disbelief.

“Well…I may have gotten pulled over once but when the cop saw the last name on my license he apologized and let me go?” you say and Tony immediately starts laughing.

“He apologized?” he asks through his laughter and you nod.

“Perks of the entire NYPD respecting the hell out of your parents and also being simultaneously terrified of both of them.”

“So, really this is your fault,” Tony says to your parents who both glare.

“How is that our fault, Stark?” Steve asks.

“Well, you’re the ones who adopted the kid and made her famous,” Tony says and Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Not like we had much of a choice. We avoided it for as long as we could,” she says and you furrow your brow.

“I’m going to choose to ignore how much that makes it sound like you regret adopting me,” you say softly and your mom immediately jumps up and walks over to you.

“No, y/n. That is not at all what I meant. I was talking about everybody knowing who you are. I have never for a second regretted adopting you, okay? I love you so much.” You nod at her.

“I guess you couldn’t have dad carry me away from movie theaters forever. Anyways, about that ride?” you ask, wanting to change the subject and she smiles apologetically.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I leave for a mission in a few hours,” she says and you nod looking at Clint.

“I’m going with her,” he says and you sigh.

“Dad? Can you pick us up?” you ask.

“Sorry, doll. I have a meeting with Fury this afternoon.”

“Tony?” he shakes his head.

“Bruce?” He makes a similar gesture and you groan.

“There’s 800 people living in this tower and not one of them can pick me up from school?” you hear Wanda laughing and you glare before she covers it with a fake cough.

“You run a 2 minute mile and bench press 600 pounds. Pick her up and run here, lazy,” Clint says and you roll your eyes.

“I may just do that,” you say getting up to leave.

xxxxx

“Hey, how are you doing today?” MJ asks as you jog up to school and you smile and pull her into your arms.

“Is it too cheesy if I say better now that you’re here?” you ask and she rolls her eyes.

“Yes. It is much too cheesy, so don’t say it,” she says, but you can see how she’s smiling slightly.

“Got it,” you say softly before heading inside. When you walk through the doors you see Flash standing in front of Peter and you immediately glare. You’re getting really sick of his games. You see Flash push him and Peter stumbles into a row of lockers, trying not to give away his powers. In reality it probably had very little effect on him, but that’s not the point. You storm over and grab the straps of Flash’s backpack, slamming him against the lockers he just pushed Peter into. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t beat the shit out of you right now, Thompson,” you growl and his eyes go wide. “Please, you always have something to say so why don’t you tell me why you deserve to walk free after how you’ve been treating Peter? That kid has been nothing but kind to everybody here, so tell me, why should you get away with how you treat him?”

“Y/n it’s okay,” you hear Peter saying next to you but you don’t back off.

“You see that? Even after the way you treat him he still comes to your defense,” you say, your voice dangerously quiet as you push him harder into the lockers. He’s too afraid to even speak.

“Y/n, calm down,” you feel MJ put a hand on your shoulder and you exhale slowly.

“If I EVER catch you messing with him again, you and I are gonna be right back here. And you won’t be walking away next time. Do I make myself clear?” you say and he nods, “I said do I make myself clear!”

“Yeah-yes. I’ll leave him alone,” he says and you hold him for a second, trying to convince yourself to let him go.

“Good. Now stay the hell away from my family,” you say, dropping him after a few seconds and he immediately runs away. You turn around and see everyone in the hallway staring at you and your breathing starts to pick up again. Your eyes flit around until you find the familiar brown ones that never fail to calm you down.

“What do you need?” MJ asks quietly as your eyes meet.

“I need to get out of here. Now.” She nods her head and grabs your hand, leading you towards the bathroom and closing the door behind you. You immediately sink down against the wall, pulling your knees up to your chest and holding your head in your hands, trying to control your breathing.

“Hey, look at me,” your eyes shoot up to where MJ is crouched in front of you. “Just take deep breaths with me, slow deep breaths. There you go, you’re okay y/n. Everything’s okay,” you let her voice calm you down as you catch your breath.

“Okay, I’m okay,” you say, moving to get up but she takes your hand.

“Just take a minute, there’s no rush. Just give yourself a minute to calm down,” you nod your head and she sits with you until you’re ready to go to class.

xxxxx

“You’re kidding me, right?” MJ asks and you raise an eyebrow at her.

“You wanna walk 5 miles?” she shakes her head, “Didn’t think so, hop on.”

“This is ridiculous,” MJ says as you crouch to give her a piggyback ride. You had put your homework in Wanda’s bag and stashed yours in your locker so it didn’t get in the way.

“Well it’s our only option until I get my bike back, speaking of there’s a motorcycle shop on the way home, can we stop and buy a new helmet?” you ask and they both agree.

Twenty minutes later you’re slowing to a stop in front of the tower, “see it wasn’t that bad!”

“Everyone was staring!” MJ argues and you roll your eyes.

“I’m Black Widow and Captain America’s kid. People stare at us no matter what we’re doing.”

“Whatever,” MJ says taking the black helmet out of your hands, “I’ll give this back to you next week, okay?”

“Uh, sure. Why?” you ask a little confused.

“You’ll see,” she says with a smirk and you just shrug before unlocking the door.

xxxxx

“I finally got the bike back,” you say, spinning the keys around your finger, “you don’t have to be embarrassed anymore.”

“About damn time,” MJ teases pushing off your locker, the new helmet in hand. “I brought your helmet back.

“Oh no, you can have the new one, I’ll take the old one,” you offer and she rolls her eyes.

“Stop being chivalrous for five seconds and look at it, Romanoff-Rogers,” she says shoving it towards you. You turn it over in your hands and see your shield on the back.

“You painted this?” you ask and she nods with a grin. You smile at her briefly before pulling her by the waist and crashing your lips into hers. She freezes for a second before placing her hand on your neck and kissing you back.

“Finally!” Peter yells and you pull away.

“You have really shit timing Parker,” you groan before looking down at MJ.

“I guess that means you like it?” she says with a smile and you grin.

“I love it,” you say before pulling her in again.

tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @freerebel @prizmix-and-friends

series tag list: @hannahsairwave @niquey-salvatore @ibe-anne

[jbbarnesnnoble]

Kiss Goodbye

Summary:  Bucky is a detective with the 99th Precinct. A single moment changes your life forever, and you’re faced with saying goodbye

Features/Warnings: Angst; mentions of pregnancy, Major Character Death

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

Notes: I cried writing this. That should be it’s own warning. 

Detective!Bucky AU; Brooklyn 99 Crossover

Word Count: 4657

You were napping, completely unaware of the news that was coming. An argument had broken out at the 99th Precinct over what to do, the squad torn over calling you or going to tell you in person. They were all emotional, all dealing with what had happened that afternoon in their own ways. In the end, Captain Holt headed to your home, the one that you had shared with Bucky since you’d gotten married four years prior. Holt had called in a favor from a neighboring precinct. Captain Steve Rogers was joining him on the solemn journey to the Barnes home. 

Steve and Bucky had been best friends since childhood. They went through the police academy together. Bucky had no interest in being a superior officer. He was content with his job as a detective in the 99th precinct. He had worked in Steve’s precinct until two years prior, being transferred to the 99 once Amy Santiago had become a sergeant. 

You worked as an EMT, enjoying a day off with your daughter. You woke up when your phone went off. You felt a pang of anxiety when you saw Steve’s name. He was working. He and Bucky both worked the day shift. You had been taking a nap while your daughter took hers. Your last shift had been exhausting and the three year old had gotten sick the previous evening with a stomach bug. 

“Hello?” you asked.

“Hey...I’m here, could you come let me in?” he asked. 

“Uh...sure?” you said, confused. Steve had a key. He’d always had a key. Something wasn’t right and you knew it. You checked on your daughter before heading down the stairs to the front door. When you opened it to see Captain Holt standing with Steve, you knew.

“Won’t you come in?” you asked, allowing both men entry. You weren’t surprised Holt had called in Steve. Not when it came to Bucky, when it came to you. 

“Steve?” you asked when they sat down.

“Bucky was shot. We came to get you, bring you to the hospital. They were rushing him to surgery as soon as he was brought in. Peralta told the ER doctors they had telling you covered. Peggy’s on her way to babysit and I’m driving you to the hospital. Captain Holt will stay and wait for Peggy to get here,” Steve explained. Your mind was racing. This couldn’t be real. Not Bucky. Not your Bucky. 

You felt numb as Steve rushed you to the hospital. It wasn’t long before Amy showed up with Rosa and Gina. You had never seen Rosa Diaz shaken. Steve hadn’t told you much, only that Rosa and Bucky had gone to ask a witness some questions and that Bucky had been shot. None of you spoke as you sat waiting. Steve had called Sam. You knew Sam would start passing the news along if Peggy hadn’t already. It was a system you had hoped would never need to be used. 

Four hours had passed before you were allowed to see him. Four painful hours filled with anxiety. He was in the ICU in critical condition. You sat by his bedside, holding his hand, waiting for the doctor to come in. Bucky’s father had passed the previous year, leaving his mother, his sister, and his grandparents who lived in Jersey. His mother had been on a trip to Florida with friends and was rushing to get back home. Sam had gone to get Bucky’s grandparents to bring them up to the city. Rebecca had arrived at the hospital shortly after you had, and the two of you sat by his bedside, clinging to the hope that he would be okay. Rebecca had married Sam the previous year. You remembered a time when Sam and Bucky could barely be in the same room without arguing. Years had passed since then, and Bucky had gladly stood up at their wedding as one of Sam’s groomsmen. 

You weren’t surprised when it was Bruce who walked in. Dr. Bruce Banner was someone you’d known a long time. It came with the territory of your jobs. He was also the husband of Sharon Carter, who had become a dear friend and who was a cousin of Steve’s wife, Peggy. 

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said.

“You’re sorry?” you asked, confused by what he was apologizing for. As he explained, you and Rebecca clung to each other tightly. You were going to have to make some difficult decisions, decisions you didn’t want to make. 

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

Saying goodbye was never easy. You laughed to yourself that maybe good was only in there to soften the blow. Goodbye held permanence to you. You never cared for the word. Goodbye was an ending. Goodbye was finality. Goodbye meant it was over, really over. There was no coming back from this goodbye. There was no happy ending, no moment where Bucky would walk through the door again yelling “I’m home”. No more sounds of little feet charging down the hallway to greet him, with you close behind. 

“I don’t know if I can do this without you, Buck. I don’t want to,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. You had made the most difficult decision of your life. You knew well enough to know holding on was only putting off the inevitable, prolonging the pain you knew would linger. It didn’t make it easier. You blinked as tears fell. You had been torn on bringing your daughter. You and Bucky had had that discussion one night, when you had been pregnant with her. 

You and Bucky laid in bed, his hand laying on your bump as the baby kicked, a soft smile on his face. The eleven o’clock news was on the television. Another officer had been killed in the line of duty. Bucky’s smile dropped. He hadn’t known her, not really. But he knew of her. Sergeant Hope Van Dyne had a husband, a step-daughter, and a two year old daughter. They had met in passing before, Scott Lang was a childhood friend of Steve and Bucky’s. Keeping in touch had been made difficult when Scott had moved out west, returning to the city when his wife landed a job with the NYPD. 

“Babe?” you asked when you noticed the sudden change in Bucky’s demeanor. 

“Scotty called me yesterday. Asked what he should do. Cassie wanted to see Hope. She’s old enough that he brought her down to the hospital, but their little one. He refused to bring her, didn’t want to traumatize the kid, seeing her mom like that at such a young age. At least Cassie’s at an age where she can communicate, you know? Addie’s not,” Bucky said. He was starting to ramble. You took his hand in yours, rubbing your thumb in a circle, a soothing gesture.

“I’m making lasagna to bring over. Though, it wouldn’t surprise me if they’ve got more than enough food,” you said. He sighed, running his free hand through his hair. 

“If I’m ever in that position, promise me you won’t bring her. Not unless she’s old enough to ask. Not unless she’s old enough to understand,” he said.

“James,” you said, a frown appearing on your face. You rarely called him by his first name. It was reserved for the bedroom, for intimate moments between the two of you, moments of exasperation, and serious conversations. 

“Please. Promise me. I don’t want our daughter’s last memory of me to be like that. It’s bad enough that yours would be. I don’t plan on getting hurt like that, but...damn it I’m scared. It was a routine stop. And now she’s dead and her...just promise me,” he said cutting himself off. You turned toward him, moving your hand to cup his cheek.

“I promise you, James Buchanan Barnes. I will always protect our daughter and any other children we have,” you said. He pulled you into a kiss, and the conversation drifted into a forgotten memory.

“Mrs. Barnes?” a nurse asked. You looked up. It was Sharon. 

“Sharon, please,” you said, your voice flat. She gave you a sad smile, her own eyes watering. 

“Sorry. I...I’m sorry. This is never easy,” she told you. You nodded. You understood. Calling you Mrs. Barnes helped her remove herself from the situation, away from the reality. 

“I came to check on you. Whenever you're ready,” she said, taking your hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“What if I’m never ready? How can you ever be ready for something like this?” you asked her. 

“You can’t be. But you have to be. Is she coming?” Sharon asked. You shook your head.

“Bucky and I agreed if this kind of thing ever happened, the only way she’d be here is if she was old enough to understand. Maybe she’ll resent me for it one day, but...I can’t bring myself to bring her here. She’s been asking about him. Shar, how do I tell my three year old daughter that her daddy isn’t coming home?” you asked, breaking down. She pulled you into a hug, letting you cry into her shoulder as she rubbed circles on your back. 

“How do I tell her?” you asked again, your voice barely more than a whisper as you sobbed. 

“You’ll find a way. You don’t have to do this alone,” she said, her own voice cracking. You were waiting on the others. Bucky’s mother, grandparents, and sister soon arrived with Sam, Steve, and Peggy. Natasha and Clint were the last ones to arrive. You weren’t sure if Jake or Rosa were going to show up. You had asked them to come. You knew they were both close to him. Hell, you were close with them and Rosa Diaz was a difficult person to get close to. 

Peter Parker had volunteered to watch your daughter that day. He was often around the station getting volunteer hours. It had turned into the kid from Queens babysitting your daughter when you needed someone to watch her. You sent him a quick text to check in on how things were, and you weren’t surprised when you got a near immediate response. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Steve said as he pulled you into a hug. You knew it wasn’t an instant thing as they started taking him off life support. You had all been sent out of the room when they started switching off machines and removing him from the very things keeping him alive. When you were brought back in, you sat by his side, his hand in yours. You excused yourself for a moment, needing a second to breathe. 

It wasn’t much later that they called his time of death. If you had been sobbing before, it couldn’t compare to the sound of your heartbreaking as his mother held you tight. 

It was late when you got home. Peter was asleep on the couch. You sent his aunt a text, saying he could stay the night since you didn’t want to wake him. It was a Friday and you knew the kid had been overworking himself lately with his school work. 

You checked on your daughter, tip-toeing into her room and kneeling beside her bed, leaning to give her a kiss on her forehead. You wanted to cry, but found you had no tears left. The morning would bring a new difficulty. Explaining to your daughter that her father wasn’t coming home.

You stepped into your bedroom, the first time since you’d gotten the news. You had been staying with Steve and Peggy, your daughter excited to have been spending time with her aunt and uncle. Bucky’s favorite t-shirt still lay flung on the bed. It was an old Vans Warped Tour shirt from 2009. One of your long standing traditions. You both loved and hated that shirt. It was worn at this point, from over a decade of wear and tear. But you loved the memories. You pulled it over your head, taking in the scent that was distinctly Bucky, before pulling on pajama bottoms and crawling into bed, holding his pillow close. 

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

You were restless through the night. You were up by seven and found yourself making pancakes. Peter was still asleep on the couch. You checked on him while the first pancakes started to cook. You were never as good as Bucky when it came to pancakes. You always insisted he was a magician. 

When the pancakes were done, along with some bacon and sausage, you went to wake your daughter. The smell of pancakes excited her. It broke your heart and you kicked yourself for choosing the food. 

“Where is daddy?” she asked, confusion laced in her voice. Your lower lip wobbled a bit as you did your best to contain your emotions.

“We’ll talk about that after breakfast. Now, mama made some pancakes. I know I’m not as good as the Pancake Wizard, but I’m sure you’ll like them,” you said as you picked her up. She giggled as you lifted her high in the air. You knew Winnie and Rebecca would be coming over after breakfast. 

Peter offered to do the dishes before he headed home, something you weren’t about to argue with him about. You sat your daughter down in the living room. You still weren’t sure how you were going to tell her. She understood her father had been hurt, that he had been in the hospital. But this was uncharted territory. She tilted her head to the side as she looked at you. 

“Why are you sad mama?” she asked. 

“Because...because daddy isn’t coming home,” you said, choosing your words carefully. 

“Where he go?” she asked you. You swallowed, trying to keep your tears at bay.

“He died, sweetheart,” you said, ripping the bandaid off. Her brows furrowed as she tried to think about what that meant.

“What’s that?” she asked. It was difficult finding the words, but eventually you did. By then, Bucky’s family had arrived, and so had your parents. Winnifred Barnes took charge of helping you explain it to your daughter. You had expected the tears and you held your daughter close as she cried. You thought your heart couldn’t break anymore than it already had until you heard that sound. 

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

It was sunny the day of the funeral. It hurt a little more. Wasn’t it supposed to be raining? Wasn’t the weather supposed to reflect your heartbreak, the fact that he wasn’t going to walk back through the door? 

You had met Bucky in high school when you’d gone to Brooklyn to hang out with Natasha after her family had moved up to the city to be closer to her grandmother, who refused to leave the city. Services were set to be in the city, but he was being buried in Jersey, the same place his father was buried. His grandparents had lived not far from your small hometown. His parents had moved to the city before he was born. You remembered that day so vividly. 

You and Natasha were walking down the street when someone knocked into you and you fell. Natasha had whipped around.

“Watch it Rogers,” she snapped. 

“Sorry! I’m running late! If I’m late again Mr. Weston is gonna fire me,” he said before running off. A boy with dark brown hair helped you to your feel.

“Sorry about him. He really needs the job. I’ve never seen you around before,” the boy said.

“I’m friends with Nat,” you said. 

“Well, friend of Nat, do you have a name or am I just going to have to call you beautiful girl?” he asked. You felt your face heat up at the comment. You saw Natasha roll her eyes before you gave the boy your name. He introduced himself. James ‘Please call me Bucky’ Barnes. You swore you fell for him in that moment. 

“I’d ask if you were ready, but I don’t think you ever will be,” Natasha said from the doorway. You looked at her with watery eyes.

“I don’t want to go,” you told her, your voice soft. She entered the room, placing a hand on your shoulder, gently turning you from the window.

“But you have to. I’ll be there. Steve will be there. You’re not alone. You are never alone,” she said, pulling you into a hug. You broke in that moment. You let out a sob that bordered on a scream as she held you tight. 

You saw the line of news reporters outside. You hated it. Vultures capitalizing on your grief. You had put your foot down and told Holt you wanted no news media at the funeral. They had no right. You always hated when they would show funerals of fallen police and firefighters on the television, as if their families lost the right to grieve privately because of their loved one’s occupation. 

“I don’t know how I’m going to get through this,” you admitted when your sobbing calmed. 

“You’re not alone. We’re here every step,” she said. You nodded. Heading to where the services were being held, officers from all over lined the streets, along with other first responders. You felt numb. You were half focused until Steve stood to speak. 

“Detective James Barnes was more than an officer. He was a loving son, grandson, brother, husband, and father. Bucky is...was my best friend. I don’t know life without him. Many of us here don’t know or remember life without him. Some people would describe him as quiet, moody, and hard to talk to. But once you got to know him? You would learn that he was a quiet comedian. He loved to go fishing and had a sweet tooth that drove his wife mad because there was never anything too sweet for him. When we were in high school, she made him a cake that had more sugar in a single bite than could have been considered healthy to prove a point. Bucky ate the whole thing,” Steve said. You laughed a little at the memory. 

He told a couple of other stories, like how worried Bucky was when your daughter was born and how he once rescued your parents’ cat from a neighbor’s tree using nothing but some rope and a laundry basket. He talked about the days where Bucky would get him out of trouble when he’d get into fights. It was the first time you had smiled in days. 

Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest as silence fell over those gathered once more. You knew what was coming. You’d heard it before. End of watch, last call, the final farewell to the fallen. A call that would never be answered. No one ever thought it would be them sitting on the hard chair, listening as their loved one’s badge number was read out with the words “end of watch”. 

You weren’t surprised Jake was speaking in place of Captain Holt. It made sense. Jake was one of Bucky’s closest friends at the 99, even if they didn’t always see eye to eye. 

“Barnes was...when he first started at the 99, we hated each other. This stupid, sexy, blue eyed and broody man comes into the precinct and sits down at Amy’s old desk. Like, who did this jerk think he was? But he soon became one of my closest friends. I’ve been struggling to find the words to say what I need to say. The precinct won’t be the same without him. He was the reigning Halloween Heist champion. I still don’t know how he pulled it off with just a shoelace and some glitter,” Jake said. You chuckled at that. Your heart ached as you listened to him speak. You hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to him or Rosa. They both seemed to be avoiding you. Sam told you to give it some time. You knew he was right, but you were still worried about them both, even in your own grief. Rosa had been there and you couldn’t shake the feeling that she felt guilty. 

The drive from the city to Jersey saw streets lined with more people, a solemn procession down the Jersey Turnpike to the shore. As you went through your hometown, two ladder trucks sat with their ladders raised facing each other. You had roots in a close knit community. You and Bucky may have lived in Brooklyn, but everyone knew the two of you. Everyone knew his grandparents, knew his parents, knew his sister. 

The graveside service was a blur, all the while lost in your thoughts and your tears, the tears you feared would never stop falling. Your daughter climbed in your lap.

“Ok mama, no cry,” the toddler babbled, placing her hand on your cheek. She was still so young, at an age where she wouldn’t remember him, wouldn’t remember Saturday morning pancakes, the daddy-daughter days where Bucky would take her to the park, to Build-a-Bear, even though you insisted she was still too young to fully appreciate it, the days he’d do her hair for her because no one could say no to those eyes and the look she’d give you. Bucky wasn’t the greatest at styling hair, but your daughter never cared much about that. She loved it because her daddy did it. 

The cemetery started clearing out, leaving you with your friends, your family. You stood to place your flower on the casket, your daughter following suit. Slowly, the others started leaving, until it was you and Rosa. Rebecca and Sam had taken your daughter with them. 

“It should have been me,” Rosa said, her voice cracking. You shook your head.

“Don’t think like that Diaz. You start thinking like that and you’ll never forgive yourself,” you said. 

“The perp was aiming for me and he jumped in front of me. If it wasn’t for him, I’d be dead,” she said. You pulled her into a hug. She was stiff for a moment before she wrapped her arms around you and let herself sob.

“You know that’s who he was, Rosa. He’d have done that for any of you. Don’t let this guilt eat at you. He wouldn’t want that. I don’t want that,” you told her. 

“He should still be here,” she said. You held her tighter. 

“But he’s not. And that hurts. But it’s life,” you said.

“You should hate me, scream at me. Something. How are you so calm?” she asked. You sighed.

“Because you’re my friend. And I know my husband. Even if he knew the outcome, he would have taken that bullet every time. You hear me? Every time. You’re riding with me,” you said, nodding toward the waiting car. 

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

Routines were hard to break. You found yourself reaching for him in the mornings, the remnants of a dream at the forefront of your mind. The cold side of the bed was a reminder that it was a dream, that he was gone. Some days you were on autopilot, pouring two cups of coffee, making his just how he liked it, before remembering you only needed coffee for one. His laundry sat untouched. You couldn’t bring yourself to wash it. 

Rosa had become a fixture around the house. If Jake and Amy weren’t over for dinner, she was. A quiet understanding existed between you and the 99. They would always be welcome. They would always be family. It was why two months after his death, Rosa, Gina, and Amy were sat in your bedroom with Natasha while you paced, three pregnancy tests sitting face down on the dresser. Jake was in the other room with Charles. You questioned your decision to leave your daughter in their care. 

“Well?” Gina asked, giving you an expectant look.

“I can’t look. I can’t,” you said. 

“Then I will,” Amy said, picking up the tests.

“You do realize she peed on those, right?” Rosa asked, an amused smirk on her face. Amy dropped them before apologizing. 

“Might as well read them out, Ames,” Gina said. A smile emerged on Amy’s face.

“You’re pregnant,” Amy said. For the first time in two months, you smiled. You had chalked your last missed period up to the stress of everything. Sure, you and Bucky had been trying for another child, but you didn’t think you were pregnant, you didn’t dare to hope that you were. 

Your first appointment, you couldn’t bring yourself to go alone. You asked Rosa to join you.

“No,” she said.

“Rosa, please? I can’t do this alone,” you said. The other woman glared at you.

“Fine. But only because I can’t stand the sound of crying,” she said, crossing her arms. 

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

Seven more months passed by, and Bucky’s birthday arrived. You were officially on maternity leave. You brought your daughter to the cemetery, flowers in hand. She was another year older, having turned four in February. 

“Any day now, Buck. Our son will be here,” you said as you sat on the cold ground, thankful for the lack of snow. You placed the picture your daughter had drawn under a rock in a protective sleeve, before securing it with a metal stake through the holes meant for a binder. A small collection had amassed there over the previous months. You would swap them out every so often, placing them in a box you kept at home. 

You had barely gotten in the door when you felt a strong contraction. You looked toward the photo on the mantel. It was a photo of you and Bucky from the day your daughter was born.

“You...you know what Barnes, fair play, fair play,” you said to the empty room. You waited a bit before you called someone. Steve and Peggy were on their way to watch your daughter. Natasha and Rosa on the other hand were set to be your support in the room. 

Just shy of midnight, your son was born. You had told Bucky once upon a time, that you wanted your son to share his name. He had laughed and agreed, but only if his middle name was Steven. You had smiled at that. James Steven Barnes. You looked at Rosa.

“Would you like to hold your godson?” you asked her. Her eyes widened.

“My godson?” she asked. You nodded.

“Yeah, Diaz. Bucky and I talked about it a long time ago,” you told her. It was true, you had. For the two of you, it hadn’t been a religion thing. You wanted to know that your kids would be in good hands if something happened. Steve and Nat were your daughter’s godparents. Jake and Rosa would be your son’s. Between the four of them, you were confident that should something happen, your kids would be well cared for and loved. 

You were still healing. The hurt would never go away. You hated the word goodbye. But you knew. This goodbye wasn’t forever. Bucky wasn’t gone, not truly. You looked at your daughter and saw his smile. You looked at your newborn son and saw his eyes. Your weekly conversations with his mother revealed more stories you hadn’t heard before. Bucky may have been gone, but he was woven into the very core of your life. You could see him in the jokes that flowed between the 99 when you’d hang out with them, in the way Steve was teaching Peter how to defend himself, even though he swore up and down he was doing nothing of the sort. You saw him in the way you’d catch Natasha jamming out to music you knew she used to hate when you’d walk in on days she was watching your daughter. He lived on in all of you. 

You closed your eyes to rest as the last of your visitors left your hospital room. You swore you could hear his voice as you drifted off, a smile on your face. 

[wigwurq]

WIG REVIEW: THE UNDOING

You guys. Remember that time I said I was going to try to watch new movie releases and do more wig reviews in preparation for the weirdest Oscar season ever? Well instead I watched a lot of prestige TV. So. Here we are! Movies be damned, there are a lot of tv shows with women in bad red wigs and I watched them! The Undoing is one of those shows. Having already suffered through two whole seasons of Nicole Kidman in another David E. Kelley prestige HBO show (AND THE HORROR OF HER WIGS!) I wasn’t sure if I could stomach another one, but you guys - this one is TOTALLY DIFFERENT. It’s in NYC and her wig is curly not straight!!! Let’s discuss (and a whole lot more!) I will be going episode by episode...

Episode 1: The Undoing

First off, I love that this episode name is just the same name as the show. I can already tell we are in for some real creativity with this show! Anyway, we meet Nicole Kidman who probably has a character name but who cares! She is super rich and married to Hugh Grant which I absolutely love as a fan of the Paddington movies - she is the villain in the first one and he is in the second - and this show already feels like a villain supergroup movie because I definitely hate both of them. They’re both doctors, their palatial house looks like a magazine, and they have a seemingly well adjusted tween who doesn’t look like either of them (but he is the kid actor from A Quiet Place and Ford v Ferrari so ok I guess he can act?) Their one problem is that said kid wants a dog but they can’t have one because Nicole Kidman tells the kid that Hugh Grant once accidentally allowed his family dog to run into traffic and his family blamed him and that definitely sounds like a lie! A big little lie!!!

Speaking of which, Nicole Kidman’s wig. As we know from my harrowing journey through her Big Little Lies wig, David E. Kelley likes her as a redhead and I hate all her wigs. This wig harkens back to the 90s when she was still a scientologist and didn’t wear wigs all the time (what a different time!) Unlike back then, Kidman now has a new terrifying face to match her terrifying wigs. Truly, I don’t know what plastic surgeon she pissed off but her mouth is in a constant Joker grin and she is barely able to move parts of her face anymore? The wig is a tangled mess but the true horror is the seamwork - the part is from places not real and also imagined and the texture is something close to a Halloween fright wig.

Which brings me to the real theme of this show: Nicole Kidman’s addiction to midweight duster coats. She owns them all, y’all. We first see her in this green velvet number which looks like a robe, spans no seasons, and also carries you nowhere. BUT paired with this red curly mess, it does look like she is paying homage to Bette Midler in Hocus Pocus, and for that I say: amen. And also: PLEASE PUT A HEX ON THIS ENTIRE SHOW PLEASE.

Now to the plot??? Nicole Kidman sends her kid to a fancy schmancy private school and she is on some fundraiser committee with her only gal pal, Lily Rabe (praise be!) plus some other harpies that definitely won’t matter to the rest of this show at all. Also present is a new interloper of indeterminate ethnicity who has the audacity to be young, attractive, bearing curly hair WITHOUT a wig, and a small child who she has to feed from her own perfect bosom. THE HARPIES ARE SO PISSED BY BREASTFEEDING Y’ALL.

Anyway, this interloper chick is definitely weird and shows up at Nicole Kidman’s gym (where she does rigorous foot pointing exercises and somehow tames her wig back, kind of). The chick approaches Kidman in the buff with a combination of aggressiveness and openness that makes Nicole Kidman really uncomfortable though I definitely choose to believe that she’s mainly intimidated by bitch’s non-wigged hair.

Fast forward to the school fundraiser where Nicole Kidman switches up her midweight duster coat obsession for a friggin cape IF YOU CAN EVEN and all the harpies are present in their best dresses which could all definitely be worn to the Golden Globes and somehow the interloper is there also in a gown. HOW DARE SHE! THE HARPIES ARE PISSED! So is the vile Donald Sutherland (Nicole Kidman’s dad who just HATES Hugh Grant for reasons unknown). 

But Hugh Grant leaves for a medical conference just as....dun dun dun....the interloper is murdered!!! ALSO NICOLE KIDMAN CAN’T REACH HUGH GRANT. Also he left his cellphone in a random junk drawer! I refuse to believe this magazine apartment has a junk drawer! Kidman’s wig magically stays halfway up without use of pins or elastics because that is just how horrifying this wig is! This show is so stupid!

Episode 2: The Missing

So Hugh Grant is fully on the lam and mainly NOT at that medical conference which may or may no exist but Nicole Kidman is not interested in googling it and that hot interloper remains to be murdered. Also Nicole Kidman’s wig is still a tangle of complete and utter nonsense AS IS THIS SHOW. Also this wig has two settings: dried out desert or oily sweat lodge. This episode starts on sweat lodge. Anyway, Nicole Kidman goes looking around for Hugh Grant and only finds more questions at his hospital and then goes to her job where she is kind of an ineffectual couples counselor. Also David E Kelley/Nicole Kidman prestige HBO shows I guess always require some couples counseling that is highly questionable.

ANYWAY! I forgot to mention that the lead investigator in this murder is Edgar Ramirez who is hot but also kind of shifty. He starts questioning Nicole Kidman about all kinds of crap involving Hugh Grant and then lays down some hard truths: HUGH GRANT SUCKS!!! He got fired from his hospital job curing children’s cancer after he got too close to one of his patients’ moms and DUH IT’S THE HOT INTERLOPER. Nicole Kidman has to gather a calming circle of midweight duster coats to even deal with this new development. 

I really love that Hugh Grant is basically just starring as himself in the mid 90s (REMEMBER DIVINE BROWN?) and I’m kind of here for it. Regardless, Hugh Grant is now the prime suspect in this whole mess and Nicole Kidman’s beautiful magazine apartment is now being completely pulled apart and all she can do is look at her terrifying face and touch it with her terrifying talons and pack up all her midweight duster coats and get the eff out of there. BUT TO WHERE?! 

DUH NICOLE KIDMAN OWNS A BEACH HOUSE OBVS. So she drives out there and is somehow able to braid her damn wig! HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE. THE WIG IS VERY UPSET ABOUT IT AS AM I. She and her tangled tiny braid (she has so much hair in that wig - why is the braid so small??) stare out into the ocean a lot and ignore her child. Also new coat alert and this one is PLAID!!!

And then Hugh Grant shows up and is super creepy and chokey. He tries to explain his actions and confirms his affair with hot interloper which is basically just all a plot synopsis of Fatal Attraction but says that he definitely did NOT murder her. WE SHALL SEE ABOUT THAT. Nicole Kidman calls 911 anyway. 

Episode 3: Do No Harm

OMG GUYS THIS EPISODE STARTS WITH EDGAR RAMIREZ SHOWING UP AT NICOLE KIDMAN’S BEACH HOUSE IN A HELICOPTER. How much money is the NYPD really willing to spend on Hugh Grant? All of it? Anyway, Hugh Grant ends up in jail (which is not as fabulous as his prison time in Paddington 2) and we find out that he fathered that baby the hot (murdered) interloper had and willfully breastfed in front of those harpies in episode 1. THIS SHOW IS WILD AND ALSO STUPID.

Speaking of wild and stupid, Nicole Kidman visits Hugh Grant at Rikers and we are led to believe that Rikers Island has a COAT CHECK?!?!?! Look: she shows up in one of her millions of midweight duster coats and in the visiting room she has none. ARE YOU KIDDING ME, SHOW?!?!?! THIS ALSO HAPPENS TWICE BECAUSE THEY CHECK BOTH HER AND HER SON’S COATS THE SECOND TIME WHAT.

Hugh Grant maintains his innocence and somehow Nicole Kidman’s bent ass wig is convinced and they hire a fabulous defense lawyer which the vile Donald Sutherland is none too thrilled about paying for and spends lots of quiet time at the Frick Museum about it also WTF show you’re willing to pay for the Frick and not frickin wigs. Also Nicole Kidman is confronted by the hot interloper’s husband and it does not go over well. No social interactions in this show make any sense, also.

In the end, Nicole Kidman gets ANOTHER midweight duster coat, Edgar Ramirez questions Nicole Kidman AGAIN but this time with video surveillance footage of her walking outside the hot interlopers studio...the night she was murdered and YES IN THAT DAMN CAPE. WAIT WHAT?! Also even in surveillance footage, Nicole Kidman’s wig is a mess.

Episode 4: See No Evil

This episode introduces the idea that Nicole Kidman really likes taking walks. Long walks, nighttime walks, sleepwalks? Nobody knows, especially Nicole Kidman. When asked why she was walking near the murdered interloper’s studio, Nicole Kidman just kinda shrugs and says “I take walks!” AND EVERYONE BELIEVES HER!!! WTF IS THIS SHOW. It should be noted that this long walks are taken in her usual midweight duster coats (WHICH ARE SUBTLY DIFFERENT COLORS AND FABRICS FROM OTHER MIDWEIGHT DUSTER COATS SHE OWNS) and very not sensible boots. Her walks can last between 10 minutes and 10 hours and who is to say where she even goes and who she is followed by? Maybe the interloper’s husband follows her around or maybe it’s in her head? Maybe she murdered the interloper and didn’t quite remember it? Regardless: it’s a lot of walking and it is EXHAUSTING for us all and finally Nicole Kidman just passes out in Central Park after minutes or hours of walking around and a bunch of kids form a literal calming circle around her and my eyes rolled into the reservoir.

This episode is also all about money, hunny! Nicole Kidman has a lot of it - so much that it was revealed in the last episode she didn’t even notice that a lot of it was missing from that time Hugh Grant lost his job and didn’t tell anyone for a few months except the vile Donald Sutherland who loaned him $500K AND NO ONE KNOWS WHERE THAT MONEY WENT!!!! Well I hope you kept your check book out, Donald Sutherland because now you need to pay $2 MILLION DOLLARS to get Hugh Grant out of jail. Ok? OK. ALSO DO YOU JUST OWN THE FRICK MUSEUM????

So now Hugh Grant just lives in his old magazine apartment which has somehow returned to magazine status after Edgar Ramirez and a thousand cops completely ransacked it. Also now Nicole Kidman and the son live at the vile Donald Sutherland’s house so all is...well? Well no not really because Nicole Kidman STILL HAS THAT DAMN WIG. 

AND THAT ISN’T EVEN THE MOST HORRIFYING PART OF THIS EPISODE! That came when Hugh Grant, now free from jail and left to his own devices, visits the interloper’s widow and children! WHAT IS HE DOING!! Somehow, interloper’s husband lets Hugh in and lets him hold the baby which he fathered. AND THEN HUGH REVEALS HE’S MET THIS BABY BEFORE AND OFFERS TO TAKE CARE OF IT! WHILST ON TRIAL FOR MURDER! THIS SHOW!!!!!

Episode 5: Trial by Fury

WHAT IS EVEN DONALD SUTHERLAND’S APARTMENT?!?! It has a balcony, and it seems to have a balcony cover because no one gets wet when they go out on the balcony and it’s raining. Rich people really live in a different climate zone than the rest of us garbage people. Regardless, Nicole Kidman’s frizzy wig is at PEAK FRIZZINESS on this balcony.

Anyway, the trial of the goddamned century is finally here!! And Nicole Kidman’s wig part still remains an elusive mystery. What is being kept in there? NO ONE CAN SEE ACTUAL SCALP OR ANSWERS. Another question: why did everyone bring their kids to the trial where they could see very upsetting pictures (that I didn’t even look at!) of the murdered interloper. CHILD ABUSE! ALSO! WOULD EVERY SINGLE GODDAMNED CABLE NEWS NETWORK REALLY COVER THIS CASE SO CLOSELY??? I guess it’s not an election year in this alternate reality.

Which makes this scene where the whole family dines out and no one bothers them at all the more improbable. Also completely insane? At one point, Hugh Grant just storms out of the dinner and into the bar area of the restaurant (omg remember restaurants?) and Nicole Kidman follows him there and they have a very intense conversation about family secrets literally in the entrance of a busy restaurant. WHAT REALITY IS THIS SHOW IN?!?!?! The family secret? Remember that time Nicole Kidman told their son that he couldn’t have a dog because Hugh Grant accidentally killed his family dog? IT WASN’T A DOG IT WAS HIS 4 YEAR OLD SISTER. WHAT IN THE DAMN HELL!!!!

Nicole Kidman attempts to corroborate this insane story that she has never ever heard before with Hugh Grant’s family who don’t return her calls but do facetime her out of the blue in the middle of the night. Sure! And who is Hugh Grant’s mom? TONY AWARD WINNING ACTRESS ROSEMARY GODDAMNED HARRIS. WHAT. Not only does she confirm that Hugh Grant definitely accidentally killed his sister, but he also was never ever upset by it! Sure looks like Hugh Grant is a sociopath! MMkay!

Oh and then in the final moments of this episode Nicole Kidman finds the murder weapon - a sculpting hammer - in her son’s violin case. THIS SHOW IS A FRIGGIN LUNATIC.

Episode 6 - The Bloody Truth

So at this point in this show, I have fully gone. I don’t even know what is real or fantasy at this point: all I know is that Nicole Kidman’s wig is my nightmare. ALSO! She has a new midweight duster coat and it is the absolute most outrageous - a silk embroidered number you can literally wear NOWHERE EXCEPT FOR THE MURDER TRIAL OF HUGH GRANT.

The main concern in this episode is how Nicole Kidman’s son happened to get ahold of the murder weapon. So he just found it....in the beach house fire pit?!?!?! WHAT A DUMB PLACE TO PUT A MURDER WEAPON WHEN YOU HAVE AN OCEAN INCHES AWAY TO FLING IT INTO! Even dumber: this show wants you to believe that this 12 year old kid would have the wherewithall to put this murder weapon through the dishwasher - TWICE!! Vulture and I both say NAH to that. 

Anyway, Nicole Kidman’s wig which is somehow pushed back with clips unknown spends a lot of time in a robe (or a coat? WHO KNOWS AT THIS POINT) making secret phone calls to Lily Rabe (who I am happy is back because she’s kind of the only fun part of this show). WHAT IS NICOLE KIDMAN UP TO?!?!?!

Much like Big Little Lies season 2, it all comes down to Nicole Kidman taking the stand. BORING! Hugh Grant is all but gonna win this thing and then Nicole Kidman gets up there and totally backs him up...until she is cross examined by the prosecuting attorney (WHO IS OLD PALS WITH LILY RABE) and magically knows all about Rosemarry Harris’s facetime! Now everyone knows that Hugh Grant is a child murderer and sociopath! AND HE IS PISSED!

The final sequence of this show is just far too insane to even fathom BUT basically before definitely being found guilty, Hugh Grant texts his son and they meet for breakfast but then breakfast turns into a car chase upstate! It is never explained how Nicole Kidman would allow her son out of her sight OR how Hugh Grant wouldn’t already be tailed by cops but whatever! Also not explained: how Nicole Kidman is able to issue an Amber alert for her kid and then get into a GODDAMNED HELICOPTER and follow Hugh Grant north and then land on the very bridge he’s about to jump off of but WHO CARES!! THIS WHOLE SHOW IS WHO CARES BECAUSE IT TURNS OUT HUGH GRANT WAS THE MURDERER ALL ALONG JUST LIKE WE THOUGHT IN EPISODE 1 AND EVERYTHING ELSE HAS JUST BEEN A MIDWEIGHT DUSTER COAT FASHION SHOW!!! ALSO THE WIG SUCKED! GOODBYE YOU TERRIBLE STUPID SHOW! 

Verdict: Doesn’t Wurq

[brightcinnamonroll]

Day 16

Bedridden.

--

Malcolm hasn’t had the flu since he was in college.

It was freshman year and his first time getting sick away from home. He was miserable, much like he is now. Back then, he didn’t have his family to take care of him (though his mother threatened to fly down to Harvard) and he hadn’t had the chance to make many friends he could call for favors. He missed class for a week, and spent every second of it either in bed or puking in his dorm bathroom. Back then, he felt utterly and truly alone. But when he put things into perspective, being alone didn’t sound so bad right now.

“Do you need anything?”

“No.”

“Tissues? Another pillow?”

“No.”

“Heated blanket?”

“No.”

“What about some ice? A magazine--?”

“Ainsley, I don’t need anything. I’m fine,” Malcolm emphasized with stretched out hand. What he wouldn’t give to be sick and alone in his college dorm. Two days ago, he’d come down with a flu and Jessica made it her job to care for her son. She brought a box full of medicine and home remedies, plenty of reading material and complaints. For the first few hours of Malcolm’s ‘bed-rest’ she’d sat at the foot of his bed and complained about how he was still single and still working with the NYPD. Then she began listing off all the eligible singles she knew who could help him ‘settle down and start a life’.

Malcolm didn’t need to start a life though. He was very content with the life he had now. Fortunately, Jessica had meetings to attend on the third day of his illness, so she wouldn’t be able to berate him. But then Ainsley arrived.

Malcolm knew their mother too well. Even though he was a fully grown man, capable of taking care of himself, she would go so far as to call his sister to take care of him. In hindsight, he had a habit of ignoring doctor’s orders to do police work, so maybe she was right to have Ainsley watch him. But this was ridiculous. He didn’t know how he was supposed to rest when his sister wouldn’t stop pestering him.

“No need to get snippy,” She remarked, half-heartedly throwing herself into the chair opposite Malcolm’s bed. Malcolm would have to move that chair when he was feeling better. Maybe move it to the curb so no one could sit there anymore.

“It’s just so boring watching you sit there and do nothing.”

Malcolm pursed his lips and lifted his book in reply. “I’m not doing nothing, I’m reading. Why don’t you find a book or something or get on your phone. I don’t know.”

Ainsley rolled her eyes and gave him pointed look. “Yeah, no offense, but I don’t think reading about the history of the battle axe or whatever is really my thing.”

Malcolm scrubbed a hand over his face and itched his tired eyes. There was so much pressure just below the skin. He’d gone through almost an entire box of tissues in one day. He envied the people who could sleep their flu away, not quite as fortunate and having to content with night terrors. He really didn’t want Ainsley to be in the room for those either.

“You don’t have to stay just because Mom said so… You know that, right?”

Ainsley looked offended almost. “But what if you need something? I want to be here in case, so I can help you.” She leaned forward, inspecting the trashbin next to his best and scrunched her nose. It was filled to the brim with her brother’s used tissues.

“Besides, when we were younger,” she stood and carried the bin to the kitchen trash. “you used to sit in my room and keep me company when I was sick.”

Malcolm watched her overturn the basket and shake it into the can.

“I don’t remember that,” he stated. It was true, he remembered Ainsley being sick a few times as a kid, but he didn’t remember sitting in her room with her.

“Yeah. It was after Dad left and I remember he used to sit with me when I got sick. And he wasn’t there anymore so you would come and sit with me until I fell asleep. Mom had a total cow when she realized you were in there. She didn’t want you to get sick too,” she smiled, returning to her seat.

Malcolm breathed a soft laugh in reply. He could imagine his mother overreacting to the situation. It felt apt.

“And I really appreciated you taking care of me,” she teased, but there was a seriousness behind it. “So, just stop complaining and let me take care of you, okay?”

They shared a smile and Malcolm appreciated his sister’s stubbornness to take care of him, even if she was a little annoying at times.

“Unless you want Mom to come back-…”

“-No.”

[savannah-lim]

Hell’s Dell’s || Savannah & Marley

Timing: Current Parties: @savannah-lim and @detectivedreameater Location: Dell’s Tavern Content: Panic (Mara fear gas), Clowns (Vague description), Head Trauma

Savannah had needed to process so much during her time in White Crest that sometimes she forgot to sit back and take a deep and careful examination of it. She was almost used to the town to the point of desensitisation, which alone should have frightened her. What had begun as a simple missing persons investigation into Agent Sterling had turned into an exploration of an entirely new world, one she didn’t want to give up entirely too easily. If she was honest, maybe that’s why she hadn’t submitted a final report on Agent Sterling’s case yet, why she kept finding more cases to dive into. If anything had managed to shock her recently, it had been the Dullahan. Stryder had known all about it, explained it away as something all White Cresters should know about, and even managed to defend her excitement about seeing it in a way Savannah understood on a deep and personal level. If not for that explanation, Savannah wasn’t sure she’d have invited Stryder out for drinks at all. “What are you having?” she asked as they found a booth, taking off her jacket and folding it neatly beside her. 

Savannah Lim was a mystery to Marley. She had watched the destruction of the Dullahan, watched Marley fawn over him-- listened to her explain what was going on, and she’d still invited Marley out for a drink. And, more importantly, not reported her. Marley should have been more concerned about citizens when they were being attacked, but she just couldn’t help it-- the pull of their fear was too good to pass up. It was like she’d been hypnotized, realy. But here she was now, standing outside of Dell’s, heading in to get a drink with a normal human FBI agent who believed in the supernatural somehow. And she wanted to talk about creepy things. How could Marley pass that up? “Tequila lime,” she answered, removing her own jacket and hanging it on the back of the chair. “So...how’re you liking White Crest so far?”

"Tequila Lime?" Savannah repeated, considering that as an option before nodding. She usually didn't dive right into the spirits, but what the hell. It sounded good. "We'll get two of those. There's a Dutch beer that tastes like Tequila. It sounds awful, but it's actually really good. I wonder if they have it." It probably said a lot about her that most of her socialising involved alcohol. "Would you think I was crazy if I said I actually like it?" she answered, but then again, considering her last conversation with Marley, she figured her tolerance for someone enjoying the dark and bizarre was pretty high. "It's never boring. There's always something interesting to explore. The trade-off is that it's terrifying." She shrugged. "Did you always live here, or did you move here?" 

“I’m a simple girl with simple tastes,” Marley shrugged, even though nothing in that statement was true. “There is? Huh, that sounds like just my type of beer.” She wasn’t normally a big beer drinker-- it wasn’t worth it, seeing as it took too much beer to get her even a little buzzed-- but she’d make an exception for one that tasted like tequila. If it tasted good enough, she’d have to tell Anita about it. The thought twisted something in her stomach and she furrowed her brow, focusing back on Savannah. “What? Oh-- yeah. Nope, never a boring day here. Especially in our line of work,” she played idly with the napkin on the table in front of her, “And no, you’re not crazy. I like it here, too, because of that reason. Or, well-- I used to.” And maybe she still did, but lately the town had taken more from her than it had given, and it still left an empty feeling in her gut. “I moved here about five years ago. I used to be in New York. Worked for the NYPD for a little bit before I got transferred to Albany of all places. It was so boring there, so one day I just...moved.” She took the drink gratefully when the waiter returned with their refreshments and took a long sip. “What made you join the FBI? That’s a pretty dedicated career.”

"Whatever makes you happy," Savannah answered. She didn't think it particularly mattered what someone's preferred drink was unless they were sipping on the blood or orphans or something. In White Crest, that was probably someone’s dietary requirement. “I’ll ask at the bar if they have it after this round.” But as much as she enjoyed alcohol, this wasn’t what they’d come here to talk about. Savannah’s interest had been piqued by their encounter with the Dullahan, and in Savannah’s world, that simply meant she had to find out more. “I like puzzles,” she answered in response to Marley’s question. “I like solving things. I liked crime shows. The X-Files came out when I was in college. My parents always expected me to go into something traditional and professional and I didn’t want to be a doctor or an accountant. So, here we are.” She sipped her drink, looking across the booth at Marley. “What about you? Judging by what you said at the restaurant before, I think we have something similar in us that just makes us tick.”

Marley perked up a bit at Savannah’s answer. She loved puzzles as well. Any kind, actually. She loved jigsaw puzzles and puzzle boxes and mystery games and escape rooms. Except, lately, they’d begun to frustrate her. She couldn’t concentrate enough to figure them out, she no longer had the patience to deal with them. Still, the thought of having someone else to do them with piqued her interest. “Oh, god, me too. So much. I watched all those true crime shows as a kid and read about the shit all the time. All the other kids thought it was too gruesome or whatever, but I loved it.” Unlike she’d ever loved anything else. Was it just because of her species, or would she love these stories even without it? Knowing Savannah did, and knowing she was human, gave Marley that small hope that maybe it would still be true. “X-Files wasn’t just my mystery awakening, it’s also when I realized I liked both boys and girls. Oh, the things I’d do for Dana Scully,” she sighed wistfully, stirring the ice in her drink. “I think we do, too. I don’t often meet a lot of people who are into the macabre the way I am.”

Savannah couldn’t hold in her laugh, a dry but good-natured one. “Oh, the true crime shows. Don’t get me started. My mom thought I was a troubled child because of how often she caught me in the middle of some documentary about Jack The Ripper or The Zodiac Killer.” In hindsight, they were probably too mature for her at the age she’d started watching them, but even as a child, it was fascinating to her. “Oh, you’re bisexual too?” Savannah said. They had a great deal in common, it seemed, and Savannah found herself glad she’d reserved judgement. “I think Scully and Mulder were my ideal threesome,” she snickered. “Hell, maybe still are.” She lifted her drink giving Marley a small toast. “You ever meet Kavanagh when was still a Medical Examiner? She’s the closest I’ve come to finding someone who approaches these topics in a similar way in this town.” 

“My favorites were the cold case files and the ones about the weird, little known serial killers,” Marley pointed out, “or the FBI’s top most wanted.” Even the other mara in her community had found her obsession with the macabre morbid. A lot of them found it rather disturbing, even, which she’d never understood-- they were creatures of fear, how could they really find anything that morbid? “Actually, I’m pan,” she pointed out, stirring her drink. “But yeah. Unfortunately,” she chuckled back, shaking her head. She knew she had more attraction to women than men, but she couldn’t deny the fact that she was attracted to some men. “See, I love me a good lay in bed, but I’ve never been one for threesomes. I prefer having the other person all to myself. Guess that’s a possessive thing or something.” Or it was the foster kid in her who grew up with no possessions of her own. She sat back a little, folding her arms. “You mean Kadaver? Yeah, I’ve met her,” she grumbled, “if by ‘approaching’ you mean completely denying, then sure, yeah-- she’s close.”

“Do you like Unsolved Mysteries?” Savannah asked, diving easily into the conversation. “Oh, Netflix has a new series coming out about The Yorkshire Ripper. It’s a British Case from the seventies.” She gave a small nod, correcting herself. “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess you could say I am as well. I’m just old. That label wasn’t as well-known when I was coming to terms with my sexuality. I just go with what I’m used to.” Apparently, they were already getting candid tonight. “I usually have a few more drinks in me before things get this personal,” she snickered. She’d meant the threesome comment more glib, less literal, but she let the conversation move along. It didn’t seem like Marley had any fondness for Regan, but Savannah supposed she wasn’t everyone’s taste. “I just mean that she’s very blunt, direct, discusses dark topics very matter-of-factly. Some people don’t like that.” Savannah must have been the strange one, because she found it refreshing. Regan was someone she didn’t have to try and be ‘normal’ with. “Was it just living here that made you believe in the less traditional explanations of the things that happen here, or something specific?”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Marley nodded, enjoying the ease with which she could slide into this conversation. It was relaxing and didn’t require a lot of effort, something she was finding harder and harder to do the more her mind slipped from her. She took another long sip of her drink and felt a little wave of dizziness come over her, but she blinked it away. “No worries. I”m kinda iffy on labels but when people ask that’s usually what I say,” she shrugged, rubbing her eyes under her glasses. “I don’t think you’re that much older than me, are you?” She tapped her glass. “Oh, uh-- if this is too personal, we can talk about something else. I’m just sorta--” she waved her hand in the air-- “desensitised to this stuff.” The topic circled back to Kavanagh and Marley frowned, choosing not to respond, just nodding simply. But Savannah’s last question threw her for a small loop-- what did she do here? Did she tell her the truth, that Marley wasn’t human and had known about most of this stuff for most of her life? Or did she lie and keep her secret to herself? Was Savannah dangerous? Or could she trust her? Marley swallowed, reached up to rub her eyes again. “Well, it’s kind of complicated--” she started, but when she looked up, she sucked in a breath as her eyes locked with Savannah’s and her abilities transformed the booth around them into Savannah’s worst fears.

“How old are you? What, thirty-five? I’ve got ten years on you. That’s long enough for there to be at least a little cultural difference,” Savannah answered. “Oh. I’m not--it doesn’t bother me. I just wasn’t expecting it.” Her parents’ jaws would have hit the ground if they’d known she was talking about threesomes in a public space with an almost-stranger. She was looking forward to the answer to her question about how Marley had come to know about the supernatural, but it never came. It started with her mother appearing in the booth with them, ranting about how much of a failure she was. Savannah stared at her, looking back to Marley. “Can you--sorry, can you see her…?” she asked, as more faces appeared around the table; her father, her siblings, her ex, each proceeding to angrily and aggressively tell her of all her failings. “Stop it. Can you--can you just shut up?!” Savannah’s heart was beating faster. They were laughing at her, their features contorting unpleasantly and cartoonishly, exaggerated into impossible shapes, their skin tone being replaced by clown make-up, their laughter being replaced by maniacal cackling. “STOP!”

Marley felt her blood turn to ice as the fear from Savannah began to fill her up. It was intoxicating. She didn’t want to stop. The world around them fell away and all that they were left with were distorted faces and angry voices. Everything turned black and white. Savannah’s heart was racing, Marley could hear it. It echoed all around them. Her fear consuming them both. How long had it been since she’d properly fed like this? She didn’t want to stop. But then, a voice cut through her mind. It ricocheted all around her head and broke the glass in her mind. STOP! Marley fell backwards from the darkness and suddenly she saw Deirdre, writhing on the ground below her. And then it was Lydia, and then it was every other person she’d tortured like this. She blinked, but the visions wouldn’t go away. Savannah’s fears sat next to them in the booth. “I--” she stuttered, threw her sunglasses off and pressed her palms to her eyes. “I’m sorry! I’m trying, I’m sorry!” She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to hurt people like this anymore. 

Savannah didn't even know she was talking to Marley. She just yelled at the unknown entities around them who were flooding her system with panic and dread. Her whole body was somehow hot and cold at the same time. People around them were starting to stare, chatter amongst themselves. Plates shattered as a server dropped them to the ground in shock. "What are you doing?!" She demanded, breathing rapid and palms coated in sweat as she tried to swat the apparitions away. Marley was doing this. She didn’t know how, but she was too terrified to think clearly. Her heart hammered so rapidly that it hurt. “Get off me!”

Stop it, stop it, she needed to stop it. Marley pressed her palms hard enough into her eyes to feel pain, nails digging into the sides of her head. “Stop it, stop it, stop it!” she shouted at herself, shaking her head. They needed to get out of there. She needed to get out of there. People were staring, she could hear them whispering. She spun in her spot to try and look around and suddenly more people were screaming. Inhaling sharply, Marley stood from the booth and stumbled out. “I’m sorry!” she stuttered at Savannah, reaching out for her. But the other woman was shouting at her and looking at her with those eyes-- those terrified, painful eyes. Marley swallowed thickly and looked away. “I-- fuck. I’m sorry, I’ll leave, I’m--” she turned quickly and slammed into someone, one of the waiters that had come over to check on them. He looked down into her eyes and suddenly he was crumbling to the ground as well. Marley backed away into the table, knocking over her glass. She didn’t want this. She’d never wanted this. She turned-- and she ran.

Savannah had no idea what was happening. She hadn’t known Marley had been the one doing this until she’d answered her, but Savannah was too busy panicking to register what that meant. People were staring, watching the poor woman freak out over something they couldn’t see, or perhaps being confronted with their own deepest fears suddenly and without explanation. Marley just kept apologizing, over and over, and Savannah could barely comprehend the words. The visions vanished, almost as soon as they’d appeared, leaving Savannah clutching her chest. “M-Marley--?” she tried to ask, but the other woman was gone. “What… what the hell?” 

[peterbishop]

my hands can't hold enough

He looks at her, dazed, with a lazy smile. “Happy snow day, babe.”

“You have any other plans for us today?” she asks, amused. “Or are we just going to make out on our couch?”

(or; jake, amy, and a snow day)

read on ao3

-

She watches how the snow, slow and wispy and almost nostalgic, falls into his hair, cold white against brown curls. His left hand is warm in hers, and she feels the expected weight of his wedding ring, no longer so sharp and metal almost two years into their marriage. He leans into her side as he stares up, up at the skyscrapers and impermeable blanket of grey clouds, as if he had never seen them before. Wide, wide eyes and a tilted smile that she can’t help but kiss on street corners.

“I loved snow days when I was a kid,” he tells her that morning, imprinting his smile on her shoulder. “My mom would make me hot chocolate and give me ten marshmallows.”

She doesn’t complain when Terry calls five minutes later, telling them not to come in—Jake and Amy have endured a series of exhausting cases lately—and Amy hangs up with a smile, further snuggling into her husband. His arm is heavy across her back, and she buries her nose into the hollow of his throat, the smell of spice and clean sheets greeting her. Their legs tangle, whole and complete and intertwined, something of a metaphor of what they’ve become. Her thumb runs over his jaw, warm skin and solid bone. She keeps her eyes shut, caught in that realm between wakefulness and sleep, but she knows he’s smiling: it’s his most natural state. She thinks, if only they could stay like this.

Eventually, Jake murmurs that they should go outside and enjoy the snow (She moans, “But it’s freezing outside—“ “Don’t worry, Ames, I’ll keep you warm,” he grins with a wink).

So, that’s how she finds herself outside during a Brooklyn snowstorm. Her breath almost looks silver in the air, the soft, white flakes getting caught in her eyelashes. Jake amiably chats away about his upcoming movie night with Charles—“We’re watching Frozen 2!”—and Amy happily listens along, the warmth of his voice cutting through the February chill. The sidewalks are iced and near blue, the snow crunching underfoot like the timed beat to a song. She has always marveled at New York during a storm: cars are infrequent and the city that never sleeps succumbs to a calm lull, of falling snowflakes and quiet mouths.

“Ames,” he’s pulling her into him. “Let’s go here.”

It’s a quaint cafe—quite literally a hole in the wall with its square opening carved into a brick wall. A few people stand in line while others meander and smile behind the sweet steam of hot coffee. Two women work in the cafe (Amy isn’t sold on if it can be called that considering the lack of seating), bustling to serve drinks and take customers’ money.

“Can’t we go someplace that’s indoors?” Amy gripes with a shiver.

“But they have mint hot chocolate, babe!” Her husband exclaims like he’s ten-years-old and finding out school has been canceled. “With extra whipped cream!”

Perhaps she’s gone soft, but she gives in, letting him drag her along. Jake orders his sugary drink—“A large for me and my wife”—with a smile so wide and earnest, Amy begins to blush, a rose-red against her pale, wind-bitten cheeks. He takes a sip, and his eyes shine like sun through ice.

He holds out the cup to her. “You gotta try it. It’s, like, stupid good.”

She takes the cup, briefly relishing in its radiating heat, before taking a sip. The drink is hot, yet cooly mint, with the perfect bite of dark chocolate. “Alright,” she says, eyes half-lidded. “It’s pretty good.”

“Told you we didn’t need to go somewhere indoors,” he says, a smirk cutting across his face.

She takes another taste, eager and thankful for the warmth it provides. When she looks back up at her husband, he breaks into a goofy smile, trying to smother it behind his hand. “What is it?”

He hums: “Oh, nothing.”

“Jake.”

“You’ve got a little—“ and his lips fall on hers, kissing the whipped cream off her top lip. Somehow, in the winter air, she’s melting into him, his hand on her cheek and her free hand on the back of his neck. It’s gentle and nothing more, soft mouths meeting, tasting of hot chocolate and she thinks, love is this simple. This and this and this—standing on a quiet Brooklyn sidewalk, kissing without a care with snow in their hair and affection on their tongues.

They walk a dance back to their apartment, hands enclasped and taking melodic steps. At one point, he tries to twirl her but ends up spinning himself, and they’re laughing. Laughing because it’s easy and laughing because they can, forgetting about unfinished cases and paperwork and remembering them: a constant center within busy streets and blinking lights. His lips are against her temple when he pulls her in close, and she feels as though he is everywhere, everywhere.

When they get home, delirious on hot chocolate and stripped of their winter clothing, he falls back onto their couch and tugs her to his lap. His hands smooth over her ribs, her back, her hips, consuming and him, if she can put a proper word to it. She sinks into his touch, still as breathless as she was on their undercover case all those years ago. When he kissed her at the restaurant, and she kissed him against the tree, and the real version of them collided, gentle and true, in the evidence locker. Here, in their apartment, it’s easier, more languid and thoughtful and known, but the thrill remains the same.

He looks at her, dazed, with a lazy smile. “Happy snow day, babe.”

“You have any other plans for us today?” she asks, amused. “Or are we just going to make out on our couch?”

He holds her hips with intention. “I’m pretty cool with making out with my hot wife.”

Her hands curve around his neck, thumbs on his jaw, and he watches her with constellations in his eyes. She says, “I’m surprised you’re not making me have a snowball fight with you.”

“Oh, Ames, you know I would kick your frozen—but very cute—ass if we did that.”

“Please,” she scoffs. “Five of my brothers played baseball. They taught me how to throw a mean curveball.”

His eyes widen. “Did you ever wear those tight baseball pants because babe—“

She bats at his chest. “Could you stop being a flirt for one second?”

“Nope,” he grins widely. “Because you married me, and that means we’re kinda stuck together forever.”

“I guess we kinda are,” and she’s smiling too.

They never make it back outside; but they do end up in matching pairs of grey sweatpants and ragged NYPD shirts, outfits they once made the mistake of wearing in front of Charles during last year’s trip to the beach house. “They’re twinning!” He had cheered, brimming with joy and—were those tears in his eyes? Amy couldn’t tell.

They don’t make it far from the couch, minus once for Chinese food delivery and second for Jake to put in one of his worn Die Hard DVDs. “It’s the perfect film for today,” he tells her. “It’s a winter movie.”

“That seems like a bit of stretch,” she says.

“But it involves Christmas!”

“It’s February, Jake.”

He drags her down next to him, knowing it’ll end their bantering, and they lay on their sides. His body seems bigger this way, how he curls around her and splays his hand across her stomach, keeping her flush and close. When the credits roll, their eyelids droop. Outside, slate grey melts into syrupy blackness, coating the night sky. Snow continues to fall, but softer, more elegant. A crescendo and swirl of white, backlit by street lights.

“Have a good day, Ames?” he mumbles into her hair.

“Of course,” she says, sure and absolute.

“I honestly thought,” he considers, “you would get FOMOW.”

Her eyebrows screw together. “Why would I get that?”

“Because you love work and solving cases and doing paperwork, and I don’t mean that as a bad thing, not at all, it’s just how you are and—“

“Babe,” she says, “you’re rambling.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says softly.

She moves around in his arms so now they face. She looks at the pink bend of his mouth, the richness of his eyes, the dimple on his chin. She’ll never tire of his intricacies. “Did you ever consider,” she asks, “I only get FOMOW about working with you?”

His mouth shifts, a small quirk of confusion. “What?”

“I get the fear of missing out on work with you.”

“Oh,” and his eyelashes flutter. “Oh.”

“Whenever you’re at work and I’m not, I hate it. Even before we started dating, and I kinda hated you—“

“More like had a crush on me—“

“—That was you, babe.”

He reluctantly nods.

“I liked being around you because you pushed me, and you still do. So when you’re at work, and I’m elsewhere, I feel like I’m missing out. I know I’m not a detective anymore, but you’re always going to be my partner. I just like being… well… with you.”

He kisses her hard and with intent, holding her face like he’s holding the world in his hands. “I love you,” he breathes out when they break apart.

“I love you, too,” she smiles with ease. “So yeah, work is fun, but work with you is better. And even better than that? Spending a lazy day with my husband.”

“Even when it’s practically zero degrees outside?”

“Then, too. Although, I still could have gone the whole day without going outside.”

“But that cocoa was to die for!”

“We definitely could have made that at home. How hard can it possibly be?”

He replies flatly, “The smoke detector went off the last time you tried to make pasta.”

Exasperated, she says, “I think there’s something wrong with that detector, okay? It’s not like a fire actually started.”

He rolls his eyes, but it’s fond with affection, and his thumb sweeps across her cheekbone. “Whatever you say, Ames.”

She huffs, "I know I'm right," but she can't help but kiss the smirk right off his face.

Eventually, they make it to bed, slow and serene. And when the snow finally drifts, so do they.

[betterdaysareatoenailaway]

Random Review #3: Sleepwalkers (1992) and “Sleep Walk” (1959)

I. Sleepwalkers (1992) I couldn’t sleep last night so I started watching a trashy B-movie penned by Stephen King specifically for the screen called Sleepwalkers (1992). Simply put, the film is an unmitigated disaster. A piece of shit. But it didn’t need to be. That’s what’s so annoying about it. By 1992 King was a grizzled veteran of the silver screen, with more adaptations under his belt than any other author of his cohort. Puzo had the Godfather films (1972 and 1974, respectively), sure, but nothing else. Leonard Gardner had Fat City (1972), a movie I love, but Gardner got sucked into the Hollywood scene of cocaine and hot tub parties and never published another novel, focusing instead on screenplays for shitty TV shows like NYPD Blue. After Demon Seed (1977), a movie I have seen and disliked, nobody would touch Dean Koontz’s stuff with a ten foot pole, which is too bad because The Voice of the Night, a 1980 novel about two young pals, one of whom is a psychopath trying to convince the other to help him commit murder, would make a terrific movie. But Koontz’s adaptations have been uniformly awful. The made-for-TV film starring John C McGinley, 1997′s Intensity, is especially bad. There are exceptions, but Stephen King has been lucky enough to avoid the fate of his peers. Big name directors have tackled his work, from Stanley Kubrick to Brian De Palma. King even does a decent job of acting in Pet Semetary (1989), in his own Maximum Overdrive (1986) and in George Romero’s Creepshow (1982), where he plays a yokel named Jordy Verril who gets infected by a meteorite that causes green weeds to grow all over his body. Many have criticized King’s over-the-top performance in that flick, but for me King perfectly nails the campy and comical tone that Romero was going for. The dissolves in Creepshow literally come right off the pages of comics, so people expecting a subtle Ordinary People-style turn from King had clearly walked into the wrong theatre. Undoubtedly Creepshow succeeds at what it set out to do. I’m not sure Sleepwalkers succeeds though, unless the film’s goal was to get me to like cats even more than I already do. But I already love cats a great deal. Here’s my cat Cookie watching me edit this very blog post. 

And here’s one of my other cats, Church, named after the cat that reanimates and creeps out Louis and Ellie in Pet Sematary. Photo by @ScareAlex.

SPOILER ALERT: Do not keep reading if you plan on watching Sleepwalkers and want to find out for yourself what happens.

Stephen King saw many of his novels get adapted in the late 1970s and 80s: Carrie, The Shining, Firestarter, Christine, Cujo, and the movie that spawned the 1950s nostalgia industrial complex, Stand By Me, but Sleepwalkers was the first time he wrote a script specifically for the screen rather than adapting a novel that already existed. Maybe that’s why it’s so fucking bad. Stephen King is a novelist, gifted with a novelist’s rich imagination. He’s prone to giving backstories to even the most peripheral characters - think of Joe Chamber’s alcoholic neighbour Gary Pervier in the novel Cujo, who King follows for an unbelievable number of pages as the man stumbles drunkenly around his house spouting his catch phrase “I don’t give a shit,” drills a hole through his phone book so he can hang it from a string beside his phone, complains about his hemorrhoids getting “as big as golfballs” (I’m not joking), and just generally acts like an asshole until a rabid Cujo bounds over, rips his throat out, and he bleeds to death. In the novel Pervier’s death takes more than a few pages, but it makes for fun reading. You hate the man so fucking much that watching him die feels oddly satisfying. In the movie, though, his death occurs pretty quickly, and in a darkened hallway, so it’s hard to see what’s going on aside from Gary’s foot trembling. And Pervier’s “I don’t give a shit” makes sense when he’s drilling a hole in the phone book, not when he’s about to be savagely attacked by a rabid St Bernard. There’s just less room for back story in movies. In a medium that demands pruning and chiseling and the “less is more” dictum, King’s writing takes a marked turn for the worse. King is a prose maximalist, who freely admits to “writing to outrageous lengths” in his novels, listing It, The Stand, and The Tommyknockers as particularly egregious examples of literary logorrhea. He is not especially equipped to write concisely. This weakness is most apparent in Sleepwalkers’ dialogue, which sounds like it was supposed to be snappy and smart, like something Aaron Sorkin would write, but instead comes off like an even worse Tango & Cash, all bad jokes and shitty puns. More on those bad jokes later. First, the plot.

Sleepwalkers is about a boy named Charles and his mother Mary who travel around the United States killing and feeding off the lifeforce of various unfortunate people (if this sounds a little like The True Knot in Doctor Sleep, you’re not wrong. But self-plagiarism is not a crime). Charles and Mary are shapeshifting werewolf-type creatures called werecats, a species with its very own Wikipedia page. Wikipedia confers legitimacy dont’cha know, so lets assume werecats are real beings. According to said page, a werecat, “also written in a hyphenated form as were-cat) is an analogy to ‘werewolf’ for a feline therianthropic creature.” I’m gonna spell it with the hyphen from now on because “werecats” just looks like a typo. Okay? Okay.

Oddly enough, the were-cats in Sleepwalkers are terrified of cats. Actual cats. For the were-cats, cute kittens = kryptonite. When they see a cat or cats plural, this happens to them:

^ That is literally a scene from the movie. Charles is speeding when a cop pulls alongside him and bellows at him to pull over. Ever the rebel, Charles flips the cop the finger. But the cop has a cat named Clovis in his car, and when the cat pops up to have a look at the kid (see below), Charles shapeshifts first into a younger boy, then into whatever the fuck that is in the above screenshot.

Now, the were-cats aversion to normal cats is confusing because one would assume a were-cat to be a more evolved (or perhaps devolved?) version of the typical house kitty. The fact that these were-cats are bipedal alone suggests an advantage over our furry four-legged friends, no? Kinda like if humans were afraid of fucking gorillas. Wait...we are scared of gorillas. And chimpanzees. And all apes really. Okay, maybe the conceit of the film isn’t so silly after all. The film itself, however, is about as silly as a bad horror movie can get. When the policeman gets back to precinct and describes the incident above (”his face turned into a blur”) he is roundly ridiculed because in movies involving the supernatural nobody believes in the supernatural until it confronts them. It’s the law, sorry. Things don’t end well for the cop. Or for the guy who gets murdered when the mom stabs him with...an ear of corn. Yes, an ear of corn. Somehow, the mother is able to jam corn on the cob through a man’s body, without crushing the vegetable or turning it into yellow mash. It’s pretty amazing. Here is a sample of dialog from that scene: Cop About To Die On The Phone to Precinct: There’s blood everywhere! *STAB* Murderous Mother: No vegetables, no dessert. That is actually a line in the movie. “No vegetables, no dessert.” It’s no “let off some steam, Bennett” but it’s close. Told ya I’d get back to the bad jokes. See, Mary and Charles are new in town and therefore seeking to ingratiate themselves by killing everyone who suspects them of being weird, all while avoiding cats as best they can. At one point Charles yanks a man’s hand off and tells him to "keep [his] hands to [him]self," giving the man back his severed bloody hand. Later on Charles starts dating a girl who will gradually - and I do mean gradually - come to realize her boyfriend is not a real person but in fact a were-cat. Eventually our spunky young protagonist - Madchen Amick, who fans of Twin Peaks will recognize as Shelly - and a team of cats led by the adorable Clovis- kill the were-cat shapeshifting things and the sleepy small town (which is named Travis for some reason) goes back to normal, albeit with a slightly diminished population. For those keeping score, that’s Human/Cat Alliance 1, Shapeshifting Were-cats 0. It is clear triumph for the felis catus/people team! Unless we’re going by kill count, in which case it is closer to Human/Cat Alliance 2, Were-cats 26. I arrived at this figure through my own notes but also through a helpful video that takes a comprehensive and complete “carnage count” of all kills in Sleepwalkers: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmt-DroK6uA

II. Santo & Johnny “Sleep Walk” (1959) Because Sleepwalkers is decidedly not known for its good acting or its well-written screenplay, it is perhaps best known for its liberal and sometimes contrapuntal use of Santo & Johnny’s classic steel guitar song “Sleep Walk,” possibly the most famous (and therefore best) instrumental of the 20th century. Some might say “Sleep Walk” is tied for the #1 spot with “Green Onions” by Booker T & the M.G.’s and/or “Wipe Out” by The Surfaris, but I disagree. The Santo & Johnny song is #1 because of its incalculable influence on all subsequent popular music. 

I’m not saying “Wipe Out” didn't inspire a million imitators, both contemporaneously and even decades later…for example here’s a surf rock instrumental from 1999 called “Giant Cow" by a Toronto band called The Urban Surf Kings. The video was one of the first to be animated using Flash (and it shows):

So there are no shortage of surf rock bands, even now, decades after its emergence from the shores of California to the jukeboxes of Middle America. My old band Sleep for the Nightlife used to regularly play Rancho Relaxo with a surf rock band called the Dildonics, who I liked a great deal. There's even a Danish surf rock band called Baby Woodrose, whose debut album is a favourite of mine. They apparently compete for the title of Denmark’s biggest surf pop band with a group called The Setting Son. When a country that has no surfing culture and no beaches has multiple surf rock bands, it is safe to say the genre has attained international reach. As far as I can tell, there aren’t many bands out there playing Booker T & the M.G.’s inspired instrumental rock. Link Wray’s “Rumble” was released four years before “Green Onions.” But the influence of Santo and Johnny’s “Sleep Walk” is so ubiquitous as to be almost immeasurable. The reason for this is the sheer popularity of the song’s chord progression. If Santo and Johnny hadn’t written it first, somebody else would have, simply because the progression is so beautiful and easy on the ears and resolvable in a satisfying way. Have a listen to “Sleep Walk” first and then let’s check out some songs it directly inspired. 

The chords are C, A minor, F and G. Minor variations sometimes reverse the last two chords, but if it begins with C to A minor, you can bet it’s following the “Sleep Walk” formula, almost as if musicians influenced by the song are in the titular trance. When it comes to playing guitar, Tom Waits once said “your hands are like dogs, going to the same places they’ve been. You have to be careful when playing is no longer in the mind but in the fingers, going to happy places. You have to break them of their habits or you don’t explore; you only play what is confident and pleasing.” Not only is it comforting to play and/or hear what we already know, studies have shown that our brains actively resist new music, because it takes work to understand the new information and assimilate it into a pattern we are cogent of. It isn’t until the brain recognizes the pattern that it gives us a dopamine rush. I’m not much for Pitchfork anymore, but a recent article they posted does a fine job of discussing this phenomenon in greater detail.

Led Zeppelin’s “D’Yer Maker” uses the “Sleep Walk” riff prominently, anchored by John Bonham and John Paul Jones’ white-boy reggae beat: 

Here it is again with Del Shannon’s classic “Little Town Flirt.” I love Shannon’s falsetto at the end when he goes “you better run and hide now bo-o-oy.”

The Beatles “Happiness is a Warm Gun” uses the Sleep Walk progression, though not for the whole song. It goes into the progression at the bridge at 1:34: 

Tumblr won’t let me embed any more videos, so you’ll to travel to another tab to hear these songs, but Neil Young gets in on the act with his overlooked classic “Winterlong:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RV6r66n3TFI On their 1996 EP Interstate 8 Modest Mouse pay direct homage by singing over their own rendition of the original Santo & Johnny version, right down to the weeping steel guitar part: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VT_PwXjCqqs The vocals are typical wispy whispered indie rock vocals, but I think they work, particularly the two different voices. They titled their version “Sleepwalking (Couples Only Dance Prom Night).”

Dwight Yoakam’s “Thousand Miles From Nowhere” makes cinematic use of it. This song plays over the credits of one of my all-time favourite movies, 1993′s Red Rock West feat. Nicolas Cage, Lara Flynn Boyle, Dennis Hopper, and J.T. Walsh https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tu3ypuKq8WE

“39″ is my favourite Queen song. I guess now I know why. It uses my fav chord progression: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kE8kGMfXaFU 

Blink 182 scored their first hit “Dammit” with a minor variation on the Sleep Walk chord progression: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sT0g16_LQaQ

Midwest beer drinkin bar rockers Connections scored a shoulda-been-a-hit with the fist-pumping “Beat the Sky:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YSNRq0n_WYA You’d be hard pressed to find a weaker lead singer than this guy (save for me, natch), but they make it work. This one’s an anthem.

Spoon, who have made a career out of deconstructing rock n’ roll, so that their songs sometimes sound needlessly sparse (especially “The Ghost of You Lingers,” which takes minimalism to its most extreme...just a piano being bashed on staccato-style for four minutes), so it should surprise nobody that they re-arrange the Sleep Walk chords on their classic from Gimme Fiction, “I Summon You:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=teXA8N3aF9M I love that opening line: remember the weight of the world was a sound that we used to buy? I think songwriter Britt Daniel is talking about buying albums from the likes of Pearl Jam or Smashing Pumpkins, any of those grunge bands with pessimistic worldviews. There are a million more examples. I remember seeing some YouTube video where a trio of gross douchebros keep playing the same progression while singing a bunch of hits over it. I don’t like the smarmy way they do it, making it seem like artists are lazy and deliberately stealing. I don’t think it’s plagiarism to use this progression. And furthermore, tempo and production make all the difference. Take “This Magic Moment” for example. There's a version by Jay & the Americans and one by Ben E King & the Drifters. I’ve never been a fan of those shrieking violins or fiddles that open the latter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bacBKKgc4Uo The Jay & the Americans version puts the guitar riff way in the forefront, which I like a lot more. The guitar plays the entire progression once before the singing starts and the band joins in: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKfASw6qoag

Each version has its own distinctive feel. They are pretty much two different songs. Perhaps the most famous use of the Sleep Walk progression is “Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers, which is one of my favourite songs ever. The guy who chose to let Bobby Hatfield sing this one by himself must have kicked himself afterwards when it became a hit, much bigger than "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling."https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qiiyq2xrSI0

What can you say about “Unchained Melody” that hasn’t already been said? God, that miraculously strong vocal, the way the strings (and later on, brass horns) are panned way over to the furthest reaches the left speaker while the drums and guitar are way over in the right, with the singing smack dab in the middle creates a kind of distance and sharp clarity that has never been reproduced in popular music, like seeing the skyscrapers of some distant city after an endless stretch of highway. After listening to “Unchained Melody,” one has to wonder: can that progression ever be improved upon? Can any artist write something more haunting, more beautiful, more uplifting than that? The “need your love” crescendo hits so fucking hard, as both the emotional and the sonic climax of the song, which of course is no accident...the strings descending and crashing like a waterfall of sound, it gets me every fucking time. Legend has it that King George II was so moved by the “Hallelujah” section of Handel’s “Messiah” that he stood up, he couldn't help himself, couldn't believe what he was hearing. I get that feeling with all my favourite songs. "1979." "Unchained Melody." "In The Still of the Night." "Digital Bath." "Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?" "Interstate." "Liar's Tale." “Gimme Shelter.” The list goes on and on. Music is supposed to move us.

King George II stood because he was moved to do so. Music may be our creation, but it isn't our subordinate. All those sci-fi stories warning about technology growing beyond our control aren’t that far-fetched. Music is our creation but its power lies beyond our control. We are subordinate to music, helpless against its power and might, its urgency and vitality and beauty. There have been many times in my life when I have been so obsessed with a particular song that I pretty much want to live inside of it forever. A house of sound. I remember detoxing from heroin and listening to Grimes “Realiti” on repeat for twelve hours. Detoxing from OxyContin and listening to The Beach Boys “Dont Worry Baby” over and over. Or just being young and listening to “Tonight Tonight” over and over and over, tears streaming from my eyes in that way you cry when you’re a kid because you just feel so much and you don’t know what to do with the intensity of those feelings. It is precisely because we are so moved by music that we keep creating it. And in the act of that creation we are free. There are no limits to that freedom, which is why bands time and time again return to the well-worn Sleep Walk chord progression and try to make something new from it. Back in 2006, soon after buying what was then the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs album, I found myself playing the album’s closing track over and over. I loved the chorus and I loved the way it collapses into a lo-fi demo at the very end, stripping away the studio sheen and...not to be too punny, showing its bones (the album title is Show Your Bones). Later on I would realize that the song, called “Turn Into,” uses the Sleep Walk chord progression. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=exqCFoPiwpk

It’s just like, what Waits said, our hands goes to where we are familiar. And so do our ears, which is why jazz often sounds so unpleasant to us upon first listen. Or Captain Beefheart. But it’s worth the effort to discover new stuff, just as it’s worth the effort to try and write it. I recently lamented on this blog that music to me now is more about remembrance than discovery, but I’m still only 35 years old. I’m middle-aged right now (I don’t expect to live past 70, not with the lifestyle I’ve been living). There’s still a whole other half life to find new music and love and leave it for still newer stuff. It’s worth the challenge, that moment of inner resistance we feel when confronted with something new and challenging and strange sounding. The austere demands of adult life, rent and routine, take so much of our time. I still make time for creative pursuits, but I don’t really have much time for discovery, for seeking out new music. But I’ve resolved to start making more time. A few years ago I tried to listen to and like Trout Mask Replica but I couldn’t. I just didn’t get what was going on. It sounded like a bunch of mistakes piled on top of each other. But then a few days ago I was writing while listening to music, as I always do, and YouTube somehow landed on Lick My Decals Off, Baby. I didn’t love what I was hearing but I was intrigued enough to keep going. And now I really like this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMnd9dvb3sA&pbjreload=101 Another example I’ll give is the rare Robert Pollard gem “Prom Is Coming.” The first time I heard this song, it sounded like someone who can’t play guitar messing around, but the more I heard it the more I realized there’s a song there. It’s weird and strange, but it’s there. The lyrics are classic Pollard: Disregard injury and race madly out of the universe by sundown. Pollard obviously has a special place in his heart for this track. He named one of his many record labels Prom Is Coming Records and he titled the Boston Spaceships best-of collection Out of the Universe By Sundown. I don’t know if I’ll ever become a Captain Beefheart megafan but I can hear that the man was doing something very strange and, at times, beautiful. And anyway, why should everything be easy? Aren’t some challenges worth meeting for the experience waiting on the other side of comprehension or acceptance? I try to remember this now whenever I’m first confronted with new music, instead of vetoing it right away. Most of my favourite bands I was initially resistant to when I first heard them. Queens of the Stone Age, Kyuss, Guided by Voices, Spoon, Heavy Times. All bands I didn’t like at first.  I don’t wanna sleepwalk through life, surrounding myself only with things I have already experienced. I need to stay awake. Because soon enough I’ll be asleep forever. We need to try everything we can before the Big Sleep comes to take us back to the great blankness, the terrible question mark that bookends our lives.

[borhapparker]

special victims unit  |  borhap x female!oc - chapter two

summary: The Special Victims Unit, a specially trained squad of detectives in the NYPD, investigate sexually related crimes. Lead by Lieutenant Astrid Morrison, they solve New York's most sensitive cases, as well as battle with their own demons from the past.

warnings: mentions of sexual assault, mentions of alcohol and drugs, lots of triggers mentioned above

word count: 3.9k

series masterlist  |   teaser (read before this)  |   chapter one

Astrid's phone rang in the dark room, curtains pulled shut to prevent light form coming in, as she reached over, grabbing it and answering.

"Morrison." she answered, the figure next to her on the bed shifting at the sound of her voice.

"Lieutenant, we have a victim. Meet us at the hospital, we're on our way." Lucy's voice rang from the other end as Astrid rubbed her face with her other hand.

"Yeah, I'll be there. Give me twenty minutes."

Ending the call and placing her phone on the nightstand she got up, before an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back into the covers.

"Five more minutes." the voice said as she smiled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling his body closer to hers.

"Just five more minutes." she said, closing her eyes.

"Who called?"

"Lucy. New case, she's on route to the hospital." she said, as he groaned.

"Why can't we stay here the whole day?"

"Well, you have work, and I do too." she paused, before letting go and getting out of his grasp. "Alright, let's go."

Groaning once more, he got out of bed and headed to her bathroom, as she checked her texts for updates on the victim.

Twenty minutes later, Astrid walked into the hospital with a coffee cup in hand, as Lucy approached her, frown on her face.

"What do we have?"

"Avery, transgender female, was injured in a fall from a bridge."

Astrid sighed, before nodding to the room. "I want to see her."

Lucy led her inside the room, where the victim was waiting, Detective Ben with her and the parents.

"Hi, I'm Lieutenant Astrid Morrison with the Special Victims Unit." she said, as the parents introduced themselves. "So, Avery, can you tell me what happened?"

"I was taking pictures on the bridge when they surrounded me."

Ben spoke up, notepad in hand as he took notes. "Avery, can you describe them?"

"Black, my age." she slowly breathed in, "They were giving me the look."

"What look is that?" Ben asked.

"The freak needs to learn a lesson look." the parents looked at Astrid, hurt spread across their features as one held her hand and the other placed a hand on her shoulder in a comforting manner. "I tried to go but they started saying stuff."

"What were they saying?"

"Tranny. He-She. My personal fave." she paused, "I told them to leave me alone. One grabbed my skirt, another my camera. I was pushed and I tripped on my heels."

Astrid took a step forward, "Avery, can you remember anything else about the boys, anything they said or that they did?"

Tears pooled in Avery's eyes, "It was all a blur of shoving, people laughing," a tear streamed down her cheek, "Taking video."

The father spoke up, "This isn't the first time, and the local precinct never follows up."

"We will." Astrid reassured the family, "We take this very seriously. I give you my word, Mr. Parker."

Returning back to the station, all the detectives got to work on trying to find anything they could to ID the boys that had pushed Avery. Lucy finally found something, pulling Astrid out of her office.

"What do you have?"

"Well, we were checking social media, lensing the area where the crime occurred, and these finally popped up." she led her back to the big round table in front of a large screen tv, where the rest of the detectives were.

"These three separate cell phone videos so far. They all begin after it started, but you get the idea." Joe said, pressing play as they watched.

"Let's see slut. What's under there?" "Beat his ass!"

Someone smacked Avery across the face in one of the videos, "Oh, he's slapping him around."

"Darius, we're going to get in trouble!"

"All these people watching. Nobody helps."

"How long do they go on?" Astrid asked.

"Till the fall." Rami says.

"You're not getting that camera back, uh-huh." "Aw, she likes you, Darius." "They dancing."

"Just give it back." "Get off me you freak!"

A boy pushes Avery, as she topples over the edge of the bridge, the crowd in the videos gasping.

"Do we have any idea who posted these?"

"Well, according to Facebook, it's two sophomore kids  and one junior from Shirley Chisholm."

Astrid looked between her three detectives, "That's it, guys, let's go, full court."

They all drove to the school, heading inside and looking for the administration in charge, who directed them to where a bunch of students were, three that had posted the videos.

"I didn't do nothing. I just took a video." a girl said, holding a pencil between her fingers as she wrote down notes for an essay.

"You watched a person get assaulted and thrown over a bridge." Lucy said.

"I didn't touch that freak show, and why is he wearing a skit, acting all -- whatever."

"Who were the guys messing with Avery?" Joe asked.

"I don't know." she said, pointing the pencil at both Lucy and Joe, "That's your job."

They walked off, as Ben and Astrid were with a teacher, showing him the video of the incident.

"This is deeply disturbing."

"Yes, it is, and three different students from your school posted those videos."

"Well," he handed back the tablet, "Let me be clear. This behavior is in no way indicative of our community. We strive for inclusion."

"We understand." she changed the video to three pictures, showing the three suspects. "Who are these kids?"

Having now got the names of all three students, Astrid and Ben headed to another full classroom, where students were throwing around pieces of paper and chatting.

"Alright, quiet." the same teacher that had spoken to them spoke to the class, as the class lessened their chatter. "Keon Williams and Markus Green, come with me."

"Why?" one spoke up.

"We didn't do nothing." another said.

"Now."

Both of them stood, walking to the teacher and out the door with Astrid and Ben following behind.

Meanwhile, Joe and Lucy were talking to another teacher.

"Why are you looking for Darius?" she asked, arms crossed in front of her door.

"It's a police matter. Where is he?"

"He was here before school began, very upset about something. I told him we could talk after lunch."

"He live nearby?" Lucy asked as the teacher shook her head negatively.

"He won't be there. He hates the projects. There is one place he likes to go." she paused, "Book Culture."

"Let's go." Joe said to Lucy as they thanked the teacher and headed off to the bookstore. Walking through the various shelfs full of books, before they spotted him sitting against a shelf with a notebook on his lap and a pencil in his hand. "Darius McCrae?"

"Hey, NYPD." Lucy parted her coat, showing him her badge. "Darius," she motioned with her hand and walked to him, "Get up."

"Come on, I-I didn't do anything." he said.

"Come on, Darius, stand up. Let's make this easy." Joe said, as Darius frowned and got up, placing his notebook in his bag.

"Yes, sir."

-

In an interrogation room, Ben rolled up his sleeves of his shirt, before supporting his weight on his hands, leaning into the suspect. "So, you're saying it wasn't your fault?"

"That tranny started it, all up in our face with, you know, being weird."

The mom next to him spoke up, "That boy goes around dressed like a girl? You should be talking to his parents, not my son."

"Well, they're in the hospital, and you're here, so think about that." he walked towards the door, opening it and closing it behind him.

"Markus, did you beat up on a girl?" the grandmother asked her nephew, who was sitting with Rami.

"He's not a girl, grandma. He's one of them he-she's." he said as she smacked his hat off.

"Wow." Rami said, Ben walking over to him.

"Acts like one, wears makeup."

The grandmother looked up at Rami, "Why would he do that?"

"That's not the issue." Rami said, "The issue is your grandson pushed a kid off a bridge."

The grandmother gasped, "You did what?"

"I didn't push him off the bridge, grandma! I swear!"

"Then you better tell them who did."

He looked down, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know."

Ben glared, "Markus, look at me." he looked up, "I know that your grandmother did not raise you to lie."

Markus was silent for a few seconds before he spoke up, "It was Darius. He's a grade above me."

Right as he said that, Darius walked through the door, Joe and Lucy escorting him into another interrogation room.

"Am I going to jail?" Darius asked as Lucy crossed her arms.

"When your mom gets here we need to talk, but the best thing to do is to tell the truth."

"You want a soda, sandwich or something?" Joe asked Darius as he groaned, his arms cuffed behind his back.

"My stomach's not feeling good."

"Darius?" a voice was heard through the entrance as everyone turned to the sound of the voice.

"This way, ma'am." Ben said, escorting her to where Darius was sitting with Astrid, Lucy and Joe.

"I'm Lieutenant Morrison."

"Ms. McCrae, I'm Detective Joe Mazzello. This is Detective Lucy Boynton."

"I'm sorry, mom." Darius spoke up. "I didn't mean to do anything bad."

"What do they think you did?" the mother asked.

"A teenager was assaulted in Fort Tryon Park and is now in the hospital."

"I didn't mean to hurt him."

The mother looked at Joe and Lucy, "Darius is a good kid. He takes care of his little sister. He goes to -- to church."

"Okay, well, ma'am, we still just need to talk to him, okay." Lucy reassured her.

"But he's only fifteen." she said.

"Which is why we waited for you." Astrid spoke up, "We needed you to be here when we read him his rights."

-

"We were just talking to him." Darius said, now in an interrogation room with his mom next to him, "I asked what was up with the dress.

"So Markus and Keon were telling the truth? It was your idea?"

"Yes, but we were all messing with him, tried to lift up the skirt."

The mom frowned, "Darius, why would you do that?"

"I didn't want my friends to think I was gay."

"So you were being tough around your boys. Is that why you pushed Avery?" Lucy asked.

"No, he fell on me and I just pushed him away. I didn't mean for him to fall over the bridge."

"Then why'd you run?"

"Because it was the worst thing I ever did. I thought I killed someone."

Through the glass, Ben and Astrid were watching the interrogation. "This kid seems genuinely upset. The other two, they just think it's funny."

Astrid spoke up, hands on her hips, "Yeah, well the other two didn't push Avery off a bridge. I mean, she could've died."

"Bright side, all three confessed. We got the video evidence, we're done." Ben said, following Astrid to her desk.

"Look, the video is shaky. The kids are underage. I just don't want anyone claiming that those confessions were coerced." she sighed, rubbing two fingers on her temples. "Let's see if Avery can come in and make an ID."

"You got it." Ben said, leaving and heading to his desk, where he called the family and asked for a lineup ID. They agreed, driving over in less than twenty minutes.

They prepared the lineup, as Avery and her family arrived. Placing them in front of a glass window, Avery got up, as the boys walked in. Looking through the lineup, she pointed one out.

"Number four."

"Number one."

"Three."

Astrid knocked the correct amount of times on the glass for each suspect, before turning back to Avery. "You did great, Avery."

"They look smaller in there." she sat down on her wheelchair, groaning slightly. "Scared."

"Well, they should be, Avery." Ben said, "They're in trouble."

"Did they say why they did this to me? I'm not stupid, I wasn't being cheeky."

"It wasn't anything you did," the mom reassured her. "We need to get back to the hospital."

Darius' mom spotted the daughter and the parents, getting up from her chair. "Excuse me."

The family stopped at seeing her.

"Are you the Parkers? I'm Darius' mother." she said as Astrid approached her.

"Ms. McCrae, now may not be the best time."

Avery spoke up, slightly shifting in her wheelchair. "Hold on. I want to hear her out."

"My son is really sorry for hurting you."

"Did he tell you why he did this to me?" Avery asked.

"Avery, let's go," the mom said as her dad slightly pushed the wheelchair.

"Just wait a minute." Avery said, reaching out a hand for Darius' mother, who sadly smiled and gripped his with sympathy, "Ask him, please."

The mother and father separated both, anger coursing through them as the other detectives watched. "Okay, we need to leave. Now."

"Come on, this way folks." Joe started leading them to the doors, as Astrid watched them walk away.

Joe turned, getting Ms. McCrae's attention and escorting her to sit in a chair next to his desk.

"Wait, my son has to spend the night here?"

Joe reassured her, sitting across, "No, he's gonna be able to go home. The desk sergeant's gonna give you an appearance ticket for tomorrow in family court."

She furrowed her eyebrows, "I have work tomorrow. I'm a home care attendant."

"Well, you're gonna have to call in sick. You gotta be there."

She exhaled in frustration, looking around before nodding, waiting patiently for the sergeant to come back.

-

Lucy served herself a cup of coffee in the break room as she heard footsteps, before Ben appeared in the doorway.

"Those poor parents, right?" he asked as Lucy only nodded.

"You want one?" she gestured to the coffee as he smiled in confirmation, leaning against one of the counters opposite from her.

"Hey, Lucy, let me ask you something." he paused, collecting his thoughts, "What makes a boy decide to be a girl? I mean, is it that he likes boys? He just doesn't want to be gay?"

She thoughtfully came up with her answer as she stirred his coffee, "There's a difference between gender identity and sexuality, Ben."

"Yeah." he thanked her for the coffee, taking a sip and smiling, "You know, my parents, they think this is all about getting attention."

Lucy chuckled, "You were a 14-year-old boy once. And would you or any other boy you knew put on a skirt, if it didn't come from a real place?"

He chuckled, shaking his head, "No, not a chance."

-

Joe, Lucy and Ben were at the Office of Corporation Counsel, waiting with Marcus, Darius and Keon. The counselor approached, as she turned and looked at the sitting audience.

"Good afternoon, which one of you is Marcus Green?" he raised his hand as she nodded, "Come with me please."

Joe spoke up, "Counselor, you want us inside?"

"If I need anything, I'll let you know."

She headed inside a room, as everyone waited patiently outside. Forty-five minutes later, Marcus walked out with a smug look, as she called on Keon next, Ms. McCrae confused as to why her son wasn't called before.

She waited, as Keon walked in, and walked out forty-five minutes later, a smug look adorning his mother's features, as she shook hands with Ms. Cox, the counselor.

"Thank you so much, Ms. Cox. I promise you, Keon has learned his lesson."

They walked away as she turned to Darius, who stood up and walked over, his mom behind him. Walking inside, she closed the door behind them and motioned for them to sit, explaining the deals the other boys received as punishment.

"The other boys got probation?"

After that, they kept talking, trying to figure out a suitable deal for Darius, one that hopefully wouldn't jeopardize his future. They finished and walked out, Lucy heading straight for Ms. Cox and Ms. McCrae for Joe.

"This is not fair. The other boys get probation but she wants my Darius to do three months in juvie?"

"That's what she wants. A judge still has to rule." Joe said, trying to reassure her that it wasn't over.

"She also told me that if it goes to trial, Darius could get a year. I said I wanted to talk to a lawyer but she said no one was available today."

Lucy walked over, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, that's your right. They're gonna have to wait."

She listened, before turning to Joe, "Talk to that lady about Darius. He's no thug, and he's had a lot to deal with."

"I'll do what I can."

She turned to Darius, tugging on his shirt as he stood up and headed to Joe. "Detective Mazzello, can you make sure Avery gets this? Tell him to know I'm sorry."

He walked away as Lucy turned to Joe, who opened the drawings to inspect them. "What's that, drawings?"

"It's an apology."

"Well, and it's an admission of guilt. You know, if you were Avery, would you want to hear anything that Darius has to say right now?"

Joe sighed, "My brother got the crap kicked out of him when he was a boy for being friends with a gay classmate. No one ever apologized to him."

-

Back in the hospital, Ben was with Astrid, as Avery looked happier than she was. "Darius McCrae wrote something for me?"

Astrid smiled, "He did. He wanted to apologize."

Avery's dad looked at her, "You don't have to read it if you don't want to."

She looked up, "No, I do."

Astrid handed her the file with the drawings, as she opened them, a smile on her face.

'If I could get a do-over, I wouldn't do it.'

The smile dropped from her face as she examined the drawing, her parents sharing a look of concern.

'But I wish I could erase it. I hope one day you can forgive me.'

She looked up, "Did you tell him I was into graphic novels?"

"No, we didn't know." Ben answered, as Astrid smiled.

They walked out with Avery's parents, as questions began to spill from the dad's lips. "We heard the boys took a plea, does that mean Avery won't have to testify?"

"The third boy, Darius, is speaking with a lawyer, so we should know more tomorrow." Astrid answered as the parents nodded their heads in confirmation.

"What Avery's gone through, she's a tough kid. You must be proud."

The dad smiled, "We are."

Suddenly, the hospital lights flashed, "Code blue, code blue."

The doctors rushed in the direction of Avery's room as the parents turned to each other with a look of concern. "That's her room!"

They all ran over, as the doctors began to use a defibrillator, restoring a heart beat inside her body.

"Clear!"

"My baby!" the mother cried out, catching the nurse's attention.

"Please, you have to wait outside."

"No!"

Ben and Astrid began slowly motioning for them to head outside the room, the parents wanting to make sure their daughter was okay, as the doctors worked on her.

"Check the heart.." "No pulse." "Let's go again." "Nothing." "Come on, Avery honey, stay with me." "Clear!"

-

The doctor comes out, a frown on her face as the parents break, bursting into tears and sobbing over their daughter.

Ben's growing concern escalates, as he begins to interrogate the doctor in charge. "One minute Avery's fine and then she's gone just like that?"

"What happened?"

"A fatty embolism." the doctor answered.

"Oh no. From the fractured leg, right?" the doctor nodded, as Ben crossed his arms.

"When the femur fractured, fatty globules were released. They traveled to the lungs. Death is almost instantaneous."

"So this embolism was a direct result of Avery's fall?"

"No question," the doctor shook her head.

The doctor walked away as Astrid rubbed a hand over her forehead, Ben turning to her with a disappointed look on his face.

"What do we say to them, I'm sorry?"

"Never gets easier." Astrid answered as they both walked over to where the parents were grieving, as she sat next to them, "Mr. and Mrs. Parker, I'm so sorry."

They nodded, before the husband erupted into a sobbing mess, the wife cradling him in her arms as the detectives rubbed their backs in consolation, before excusing themselves and returning to the police station, where everyone else was.

"What happened?" Rami asked as Astrid frowned.

"Avery died."

-

A few days later, they were all waiting for the results from the M.E. as Ms. Cox walked in with a blue folder in hand, Astrid walking out of her office to meet her.

"The M.E. confirm cause of death?"

"Saddle embolism to the lungs, direct result of the broken femur from the fall. No intervening cause."

Astrid sighed, putting her hands on her hips.

"What does that mean for these boys?" Lucy spoke up as Ms. Cox turned around.

"Well, Markus and Keon didn't push her. They didn't cause the death."

Rami spoke up, crossing his arms, "But Darius McCrae did."

Another lawyer walked into the station, catching everyone's attention. "Lieutenant, we need to talk about the Avery Parker murder."

She turned, nodding, "Of coourse. Kenneth O'Dwyer, meet Pippa Cox."

"It's nice to see you again, Ms. Cox. You'll want to be in on this meeting too." he said, as Pippa nodded, following them to Astrid's office. "The D.A.'s office is taking over the prosecution."

Dumbfounded, Rami had joined them, as Astrid lightly tilted her head, "Now, you know Darius McCrae's only 15 years old?"

"Yes, and if he's tried in family court, he'll be charged with juvenile delinquency and be back out on the street again when he's 18."

"Wait, you're looking to charge him as an adult?" Astrid asked as O'Dwyer nodded.

"Second-degree manslaughter."

Pippa spoke up, "We can charge that in family court."

"We can, but we won't, and I want to attach a hate crime."

It was silent for a few minutes, as Astrid sighed, "Okay, wow."

O'Dwyer spoke up again, "There's an epidemic of attacks on trans persons. We have to take a stand."

Astrid interjected, "Yes, but I don't think that this is that case. Darius seems like a good kid."

"He went after Avery, he taunted her and he pushed her off a bridge."

"But you want to charge a 15-year-old as an adult?" Rami asked, furrowing his eyebrows, "He could get 20 years."

O'Dwyer sighed, "It's more like seven. And while I appreciate your sympathy for Darius McCrae, we can't wait for a more overtly evil perp. We have to draw a line."

Rami and Astrid exchanged a look, crossing their arms as they sighed in unison.

-

Lucy was visiting Ms. McCrae, informing her of the charges, as she paused her, concern etched on her features.

"Darius and I, we feel horrible that Avery died, but that was because of something that went wrong at the hospital."

"Well," Lucy began, wringing her hands together, "The autopsy showed that it was a complication resulting from the fall."

"So, what does -- what does that mean?"

"They're charging him with manslaughter," Rami spoke up, "He'll be tried as an adult."

The mom was dumbfounded, as she frowned, "My Darius? No no no.. He's -- he's just a kid."

"But the DA and the mayor want to send a message that hate crimes aren't acceptable in New York City."

"Hate crimes?" she breathed out, "The only person Darius hates right now is himself."

"I'm sorry," Rami apologized, "This is where we are."

Lucy got up from the chair, adjusting her blazer, "You said Darius was in his room?"

"You have to take him right now?"

"Yeah, he's got to be arraigned. Can you call him please?" Lucy asked, crossing her arms.

They escorted Darius out of his home and back to the police station, as they booked him in for the night, waiting to be arraigned in the morning.

-

tags:

@hollandroos  @me-a-hopeless-romantic @shuri-owns-my-heart @im-grac3ful-but-fi3rc3  @thebohemianpenguin  @misterf4hrenheit @sofarxitsalright @lolabean1998  @sailing-race @desperately-bisexual @desir-ae @cl0ve @theimpossiblehologramtree @peachllobotomy @rrrogah-tayluhh @allaroundaddict @orchideax @thesevenseasofnublar @owensgrxdy​

[svudrabbles]

How about one where Olivia gets jealous when another mom (one of Noah’s friends) flirts with fem!reader at one of Noah’s games (you pick the sport) especially when Olivia has been working really hard on a case, so she has been missing out on spending time with them. Angst + fluff at end pls I hope this makes sense because it sounds better in my head. Anyways, love your writing! You are really good!

Thank you so much!! This is a really great prompt, sounds great on paper too lmao. I chose dance because that’s what we saw most recently on the show...and also it made a neat storyline in the fic. Hope you enjoy!

Noah’s mid season performance review at the dance academy was today. You had informed Olivia of this last week, and she had promised both you and Noah she would be there. You hated to say it, but you weren’t sure if she’d show. She’d been at work constantly since the beginning of the month working this new case, and while you understood the importance of her job, sometimes it felt like she shoved the two of you to the side.

On the way to the academy, Noah had seen upset in the back seat, so of course you inquired as to why.

He said, “I don’t think mommy is gonna show up...”

Your eyebrows furrowed in sadness , and you sighed. “Noah, she just texted me that she’s leaving work in ten minutes. She’ll be here.”

He sighed, looking out of the window, and didn’t respond.

Yeah. You didn’t exactly believe your words either. But you could hope.

When you arrived, there were parents lined up against the massive wall to wall mirrors. Olivia wasn’t here yet. You took your seat at the end of the line, although Noah hadnt left your side.

“Mama,” he pouted, “where’s mommy?”

“She’ll ve here, love.” You hugged him tightly. “Go see your friends, okay? I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

All of a sudden, a woman and a little girl entered the room. She gasped at the sight of Noah and ran toward the two of you. “Noah! Look! My mommy got me a new leotard. Wanna see?”

Noah turned his head toward his friend, and almost as if he forgot entirely about his nervousness, he grinned. “Hi, Lilliah! Yeah!”

The girl named Lilliah took him by the hand and dragged him over to the cubbies where she practically ripped off her coat and began modeling her new sparkly leotard.

You felt someone take a seat next to you, so you turned your head and almost gasped at the sight.

“Y/N?” Grace laughed in surprise.

Grace was...an old friend of sorts. You were a dancer growing up, and had made it into a company by the time you were eighteen. Grace and you had made this accomplishment together, but once you left the company, you’d completely lost touch.

“Grace!” You smiled happily, bringing the woman into a huge hug.

“My God it’s been so long.” She squeezed you tightly. “Where have you been?”

You pulled away, your eyes searching her person. Her thick blond curly hair was swept into a messy bun, her sparkling blue eyes were alive with excitement as they usually were. Her white teeth broad in a grin. As much as you were friends, Grace was also your ex girlfriend.

“Ah, around.” You shrugged. “I actually teach dance at another studio.”

“Very nice. I always expected that from you.” She chuckled, squeezing your thigh.

You looked down at the sudden touch with raised eyebrows.

“I guess my daughter is friends with your son.” She mentioned, motioning toward the two little kids who were running around together giggling.

You smiled. “I guess so.”

“Makes sense. We were always good friends.” She winked.

You blushed. “Yeah. We were huh?”

“I met Lilliah’s dad not soon after you dropped out of the company. He was sort of a cope, I think. We became...acquaintances with benefits.” She shrugged. “I got pregnant with her, he skipped out.”

You frowned. “I’m sorry, Grace.”

“It’s okay.” She chuckled. “Lily is the best thing in the world. Im glad it happened. But I do wish you’d been around.”

You sighed. “I’m sorry, I just...when I left, I didn’t want any reminders of why I had to go.”

“I know.” She nodded, her hand on your thigh ran inwardly. “I don’t blame you. I’m just glad fate brought us together again.”

You cleared your throat, pushing her hand away. You looked toward the door, and Olivia was standing there, staring at you, hurt in her eyes.

Fuck.

“That’s my wife, actually.” You mentioned to Grace. “My sons other mother.”

The blond raised her brows. “Oh...”

You stood, going over to Liv, and making a point of hugging her tightly. She hugged you back.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You mumbled.

“Who is she?” Olivia questioned. “I don’t like the way she was touching you.”

You sighed. “I’ll tell you later.”

Suddenly you had a small child crash into the both of you. It was Noah. “Mommy!” He grinned wildly. “You really came.”

“I really did.” Olivia grinned down at her boy, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so excited to watch you.”

Almost immediately after she said that, Noah’s dance teacher called out for the kids to take their places, as well as the parents.

***

After watching the performance, Grace had slipped you her number in your back pocket when you weren’t paying attention. She sent you a wink before saying, “If you ever wanna grt coffee anyway.”

Olivia had took note of this, and was upset all over again.

The three of you went out for dinner and ice cream, and then went home. Olivia helped Noah with his bath, and then put him to bed. You were in your room that the two of you shared, cuddled into your side of the bed with a glass of red wine, in one of Olivia’s NYPD t shirts that swallowed you whole.

Olivia came into the room, and eyed you. “We need to talk.”

You blinked, placing your glass on the night table. “Okay.”

“Who was thet woman?” She questioned, shutting the door behind her. “She seemed like she knew you. She could hardly keep her hands off of you.”

You sighed. “Grace is her name. We knew each other at the company, before I left.”

“Knew each other?” She questioned, rummaging theough her drawers for pajamas.

“Shes my ex.” You said softly.

Olivia scoffed. “Of course.”

“Excuse me?” You raised a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You were completely content with letting her practically finger you in a room full of kids.” Olivia stated nastily. She began undressing, changing into her pajamas.

“What the fuck?” You scoffed. “I shoved her away. You know that.”

“When I got there. How do I know how long it went on before?” Olivia spun on her heels, staring at you.

“Maybe you would have known if you were there!” You exclaimed. “You’re never here. You’re never around to touch me like that, you’re never around to watch Noah. It’s just the two of us all of the time.”

“Y/N, you know how important my work is...”

“And we arent!?” You asked, full of emotion. “Liv, all i want at the end of every day is to cuddle with you, kiss you. Make love to you. But I don’t get to do that. I don’t get to tell you how hard my day was, I don’t get to lean on you, and I live with that because I love you and I know how much your job means to you. But we have to mean something to you too, and it feels like we don’t.”

Olivia’s face became forlorn. She sighed, rubbing a hand through her hair.

You rolled your eyes, turning over on your side so you faced the wall. “Whatever, though. None of that matters. Keep practically pissing yourself all because one woman, who I haven’t spoken to, who I don’t love, touched me the way you should be.”

Olivia was silent, but she walked over to the bed, crawled under the covers, and pressed her body against yours. You melted into her warm touch. She curled around you as your big spoon, her leg going between your two legs, her arm wrapped tightly around your waist. With her other hand, she brushed away your hair, and pressed kissed to the nape of your neck. “I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been around. It’s not fair to you or to Noah...”

Your eyes filled with tears now.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry i got mad, it’s just...when I saw her like that, with you...I hated myself. I should’ve been with you, holding you. She didn’t know you were married because I wasn’t there to let everyone know you’re mine.”

You sighed as she kissed your neck, softly sucking on the skin. “You’re my one and only love, Olivia. I’m proud of you for what you do, I love that you protect the unprotected. I just need you to be with us more than you have been.”

“I will be. I promise. I’ll be here more than I have been.” She mumbled, squeezing you tight. “I love you so much, my love.”

“I love you too.” You turned over, wrapping your leg around Liv’s waist, pulling your body flush against hers. Her hand slipped under your shirt, caressing your back, your side, your tummy.

“I’ll make it up to you tonight, if you let me?” Olivia said softly.

You smiled. “I’d love that.”

[elisaphoenix13]

Bonds Of Love, Not Blood

Whimpers woke Stephen, but before he could even sit up, he heard shushing and watched through half-lidded eyes as a figure leaned over the crib and picked Valerie up. The baby coos as she's taken out of the master bedroom and the sorcerer relaxes back into the mattress with the knowledge that Tony was taking care of their daughter. He wouldn't mind the extra few minutes. He was on a baby binge for the past couple of weeks, so he was the one mostly caring for Valerie, and while he wasn't about to stop caring for her, he wouldn't mind letting up a bit. So Stephen closes his eyes and drifts off between sleep and awareness, and sighs with content when Tony throws his arm around him and pulls him back against his chest.

Wait...Tony?

Stephen gasps and jolts up into a sitting position, the action throwing his husband's arm off who grumbles in annoyance. If Tony was in bed with him, who took the baby? The sorcerer takes a couple of deep breaths as he tells himself that there were plenty of people that might have come in to take care of Valerie for a little bit, and that she was safe, no matter who it was. When he slipped out of bed and out of the room to check and see who it was, he did not expect what he saw.

Harley had Valerie.

From what Stephen could see, the teenager was soothing his youngest sister as he made her a bottle with one hand, and it brought a smile to his face. Harley could be a menace. He pulled pranks with (or on) Peter, teased his siblings, sometimes purposely shot their resident god with his potato gun...but he loved his family. Sometimes he helped Peter on patrols or with bullies at school, spent time coloring with Diana when Cassie couldn't, and now he was giving his parents a few extra minutes of sleep by taking care of his baby sister. Stephen didn't want to ruin the moment quite yet, so he slipped back into the master bedroom and into bed, and snuggled up to Tony.

"Where was the fire?" Tony asks half asleep.

"No fire. I just thought you had the baby. I went to go see who really had her."

"Did Quill steal Valerie again?"

"No. Harley did." Stephen says with a smile.

Tony blinks as he processes the sorcerer's words. "Harley?"

Stephen hums. "Harley. He's feeding Valerie as we speak."

"These kids continue to surprise me."

Stephen says nothing and curls into his husband's chest, and purrs when Tony throws his arm back over the sorcerer. The couple enjoy their few rare minutes of quiet and no kids, and savor the sound of listening to each breathe. Or to add to Stephen's case, listening to Tony's heartbeat as well. It was only a matter of time before one of the kids woke them up, or even a team member. The last friend to wake them up was Clint, and that was because he was climbing in the vents again. He accidentally fell into the master bedroom and into their bed, rudely waking the couple as well as their infant daughter, and Mama Bear was not pleased. Tony had to punish the archer with clean up duty before Stephen threw him into a hell dimension.

"You smell that?" Tony suddenly asks and Stephen pulls his face away from the engineer's chest just enough to sniff the air.

"Someone's cooking breakfast."

"FRIDAY? Who's in the kitchen?" Tony asks.

"Harley, Boss. He seems to be cooking a variety of food." The AI responds and the parents look at each other before scrambling out of bed.

They leave the bedroom and once again peer over the railing, and indeed find Harley at the stove making bacon, sausage, eggs, and toast. Before they can wonder where their youngest child is, they find the baby dozing in her swing in the living room and Diana watching cartoons on the couch nearby. Peter was nowhere to be seen but that was because he was just leaving his room with a yawn. He blearily looks at his parents before looking down to see who was making breakfast and he gawks.

"Harley can cook?" He whispers incredulously to the two men.

"We're just as surprised." Tony answers and the three of them descend the stairs and into the kitchen.

Harley temporarily looks up from the scrambled eggs in the pan and points in the direction of the living room as he looks back down. "I fed and changed Val. She went back to sleep."

Tony opens and closes his mouth like a fish, and Stephen does them all the favor of asking the oldest child what they've been asking each other.

"Cub...how long have you been able to cook?"

Harley shrugs. "Since before Dad broke into my garage in Tennessee. I had to make my sister food a lot."

"You've been making us cook all this time?" Tony asks.

"It was nice to have a home cooked meal made by my parents."

Well, they couldn't fault him for that. He had been cooking for his sister (and maybe even his mother) for years, and after losing them and coming to live with Tony and them, he wanted to sit back and enjoy a meal he didn't make for once. He wanted to be a kid and that was okay. Him being a kid sometimes drove his parents crazy but that was the whole point. Today, Harley decided to put the child aside for a little while and help out, and Stephen walked over and thanked him by kissing the crown of his head. The boy was an inch shy of him and Tony so that was all he could manage.

"Thank you."

"As soon as I'm finished here, I'm done being mature."

Stephen chuckles. "I expect nothing less."

Tony snags a piece of bacon and munches on it thoughtfully. "What possessed you to do this?"

"You and Mom do so much for us. I figured helping with Valerie for a few minutes so you can get a little more sleep, and making breakfast was the least I could do."

"Thanks kid...really." Tony pats Harley's back as Stephen grabs plates.

Breakfast was thoroughly enjoyed, especially once they didn't need to watch the occupied swing in the living room since Wanda was the first to come up. The witch cooed at the sleeping baby while they finished breakfast, and she picked Valerie up when she finally woke up as Peter started to clean up. Valerie did have her favorite aunts and uncles, and that was based on who held her. The more someone held the baby, the more she warmed up to them. Quill, Scott, Natasha, and Wanda were constants and the others had to fight them for a chance to hold the baby. Not including Tony and Stephen of course.

"Does she have magic too?" Wanda asks as she gently pats Valerie's back and Stephen shakes his head.

"I don't believe so. I didn't notice it before with Diana, but now that Valerie is here, I can sense it. Dia had magic when she was born. Valerie does not. Besides being born from magic, she's a normal baby."

"Finally!" Harley groans out. "Being the only normal kid sucked."

"I gave you a suit kid. Don't complain." Tony remarks.

"I came up early so I could have a chance to hold her. I learned my lesson with Diana...at least the little bit of time we all got to have with her." Wanda states and Peter looks up at her from his homework. 

"Probably a good thing since everyone has to fight a god for Val now"

It wasn't even an exaggeration. Stephen had been right when he said that Quill would be insufferable. The celestial may be occasionally hot-headed, big, and overprotective...but he was a teddy bear when it came to the girls. There were only two adults that didn't have to fight him for the girls and that was Scott and Stephen. It actually made Tony a little annoyed because two of the three girls that Quill protected were hischildren. One would think that Tony would be one of the few that wouldn't have to fight the god for his kids.

"We really need to give those idiots their own." Tony grumbles and Stephen huffs with amusement.

"That wouldn't change a thing. Quill would still hover."

"True." The billionaire admits.

"Boss, you have an incoming call from the NYPD." FRIDAY suddenly says and Tony frowns.

"What do they want?"

"It seems that Mr. Lang has been incarcerated just over an hour ago." She responds and both Tony and Stephen look at each other in confusion.

"What the hell?" Tony goes upstairs to grab his phone and talks to the officer on the line for a few minutes before hanging up. "Stealing? I'm calling bullshit. FRI, find out where Scott was arrested and send me any video feed you can find."

"Yes Boss."

Stephen walks into the bedroom as Tony gets dressed. "What happened?"

"They said he was caught stealing."

"Scott has no reason to do that. He and Quill aren't hurting for money, and even if they were, they would ask us for help. Not to mention he wouldn't risk going back to jail."

"Exactly. I'm calling bullshit and FRIDAY is looking into surveillance right now." Tony pulls on a jacket, and kisses Stephen. "I'll be right back."

Tony leaves the bedroom and then the tower, and Stephen walks back down to the living room to retrieve Valerie from Wanda when she starts to fuss again. She just needed another diaper change and feeding, but stayed with Stephen since she was content in his arms. Wanda moved on to playing with Diana as the boys did their homework for Monday, and a little over an hour later, Tony returned with Scott in tow. The younger looked a little upset as he went into the kitchen to get some juice, and Tony sits on the couch next to Stephen with an annoyed grunt.

"Well?" The sorcerer asks softly.

"Someone planted merchandise into his sweater. The charges were dropped once I showed video evidence, but he's not feeling great about it." 

"Well I have a secret weapon to help him feel better." Stephen says and gets up to join Scott in the kitchen, finding the ex-thief lazily drinking a Capri Sun and staring off into the distance. "Scott."

"...sorry for causing trouble." The younger mumbles.

"You didn't. We don't blame you. Now here."

Stephen pulls Valerie away from his shoulder and holds her out to Scott, and the ex-con takes the infant who coos at the sight of her uncle. Like the sorcerer hoped, it had Scott smiling as he held her to his own shoulder and finished his juice.

"Enjoy it while you can before your husband gets home." Stephen warns and Scott snorts.

"I'd like to see him try to take her away."

"Scott...all he has to do is bring out the galaxy eyes and you'll hand her over."

Scott pouts. "Tony just has to speak Italian."

"I am not having this argument." Stephen huffs and walks back to the living room where the boys have moved on to playing video games after finishing their homework.

Scott had Valerie for all of twenty minutes before Quill got back, and the man immediately went over to his husband to pull him into a hug. The baby on the shorter man's shoulder squeaks at the sudden pressure of the hug and Tony rolls his eyes when Quill demands Scott for the baby. Even though they could hear them tussling in the kitchen, neither Tony nor Stephen were worried. Scott and Quill wouldn't let the baby get hurt, especially the god. He would put himself in harm's way to protect Scott and the girls.

"Was Uncle Scott like this when I was a baby?" Diana asks.

"Sort of. Except he had to fight Aunt Natasha instead of Uncle Quill." Tony answers.

"Because Uncle Quill wasn't here?"

"Exactly."

"HA!" Quill shouts in triumph from the kitchen.

"Stephen gave her to me!" Scott argues and the sorcerer sighs.

"I think I made a mistake." He mutters and Tony laughs.

[theliterateape]

I Like to Watch | True Crime Television

by Don Hall

Traveling to Kansas for Christmas during a raging pandemic was a balancing act between stupid, reckless, and necessary.

Dana and I struggled with the decision. We spent Christmas last year at the casino I was working at and Joe came out from Chicago to play. I had to work, Dana and Kelli got a room at the West, and we FaceTimed with my family. It was weird. I had never, in my life, worked on Christmas Day. With a few notable exceptions, I had rarely spent Christmas Day apart from my family.

A couple of factors came in play when making the decision to travel to Kansas during a pandemic as the odds of contracting the virus increased by the day. 

First, my dad is in precarious health. A cancer in his marrow has been sitting quietly for years and is always a threat. In the past year, he has suffered kidney failure and is on dialysis three times a week. The idea that I would miss his last Christmas for almost any reason was horrifying.

Second, my sister's youngest son died this past April. We flew up and helped her for a week but this was the first Christmas she was to endure while still grieving. 

Yet there was this virus.

We decided that, if we were diligent about our masks and social distancing even within homes in Kansas, stay with my sister (who is a high school government teacher and has been online for months now), and make sure we were COVID-free before the trip, we were willing to take the risk.

It was worth it. As of this writing no one has the virus in my immediate family so we did our job and the trip was wonderful.

My sister, anticipating that Dana and I would be picky about what television we watched, binged on her favorite genre, True Crime. Turns out, Dana and I are just fine with True Crime, so we spent more than a normal amount of time watching salacious documentaries and dramatic recreations demonstrating the ugly face of human beings during a holiday known for its celebration of the best faces.

‌On the morning of July 13, 2011, 32-year-old Rebecca Zahau was found hanging naked and bound from her wealthy boyfriend’s Coronado mansion. Authorities were quick to rule the death a suicide, but strange clues found at the scene — including an eerie message scrawled in black paint on a nearby door — convinced her family that she had died by someone else’s hand.

When college-age men began showing up dead in bodies of water across the country, many of the deaths initially appeared to be accidental drownings. But a team of retired NYPD detectives led by veteran Detective Kevin Gannon believe there may be a more sinister explanation for the deaths after noticing in nearly all the cases smiley face graffiti has been found near the body.

In the dead of the night, eight people were shot “execution-style” in a brutal family massacre that left a small rural Ohio town reeling and questioning who could have carried out the cold-blooded murder of an entire family. For more than two years, they were no answers until a shocking series of arrests of another prominent family in Piketon suggested a possible growing feud between two families, who had once been close friends.

This stuff is grisly, man.

My mom and I used to have a disagreement about the nature of man. She believed that we are essentially good creatures who get seduced by the dark side. I believe that one afternoon spent with a two-year old tells the opposite tale. Children, when left alone, tend to be greedy, self-centered, narcissistic, violent. Adults are merely children who have learned to lie better about these innate impulses.

Spend a few hours watching true crime documentaries (and a few more hours watching public outrage videos) and its easy to see which narrative is more accurate.

One of the most erroneous concepts to follow these types of stories is that someone who murders his wife and kids, shoots up a school, kills her co-worker and stuffs pieces of the body in mason jars to be distributed through a gruesome Etsy store are insane. That these outliers are mentally ill.

I disagree. If horrifying behavior against our fellow humans is an indicator of mental illness, then we're all batshit crazy. Like the antiracism argument, if everyone white is racist regardless of actions or intent, then the term racist has no meaning (or at least no bearing on societal solutions). If everyone is nuts, then nuts is the default.

"That guy who got some trim and shot his wife in the head to get the comic book insurance is not normal" is a cop-out that lets the rest of us off the hook and creates a zone of denial surrounding our own behavior. These people aren't crazy, they simply thought they could get away with it like when you pilfered the stapler from your workplace or used your phone to take a covert photo of your sexy co-worker so you could go jack off to it in the stall of the McDonald's bathroom.

True Crime is not so much a genre of how terrible some people can be. It is a genre that acts as the mirror to society as it is rather than as we hope it is.

Traveling to Kansas during a global pandemic was insane. For all our justifications and precautions, we made the trip because we thought we could get away with it consequence-free, no more and no less.

Given that no one in my family throughout the holiday is suffering from COVID symptoms, we got away with it.