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aperrywilliams · 4 years

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All for My Girls (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Spencer missed calls and texts from his wife. Something important happened and he needs to rush to the hospital.

Word Count: 1494.

Warnings: None. Just a short self-indulgent fluff fic.

A/N: Spencer Reid as a father. It’s all we need.

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Spencer was dozing off in that uncomfortable plastic chair in the middle of a hospital's waiting room. It was 3 in the morning. His eyelids are heavy from exhaustion. When he arrived home that night, her wife wasn't there. Weird. She hadn't told him about going out.

He thought a little in case he forgot something. But he never forgets anything, even less if it was something related to her. Spencer never forgot a birthday, an anniversary, a particular date, an appointment in all the years they were married. Nothing. What did he miss now?

When he pulled his phone from his jacket, he noticed that it was off. He didn't see it before. That made sense to him. Maybe his wife called him, and he didn't answer because his phone was dead. Oh, God! What if something terrible happened?

Spencer rushed to the nightstand where the charger was and plugged his phone on it. It took longer than five minutes for his phone to return to life.

He unlocked the screen and saw a lot of messages and missed calls from his wife.

"Spencer Reid, grab your ass and come to the hospital right now! It's time!" it read in the last message. Spencer put on his coat again and rushed to the hospital. How he could be so negligent! He knew the baby would come any time, and he wasn't prepared? 'It's a shame, Spencer!' He scolded himself.

Spencer arrived at the hospital past 10 pm. When he made it to the waiting room, he saw Morgan and Savannah waiting.

"Hey, guys!" Spencer greeted, gasping for the long run he made from the entrance.

"Pretty Boy! Where have you been?" Morgan asked. "(Y/N) texted us, and I tried to call you. You never answered! What happened man? We were worried," Derek questioned. Spencer shook his head, catching his breath. Clearly, his physical condition was not optimal for that run.

"I - I'm sorry. My phone gone dead. Where - where is she?" the genius doctor inquired.

"She is in the delivery room right now. She is in labor," Savannah replied.

"What? Damn it! I came too late! I couldn't even see her!" Spencer complained.

"We almost didn't. When we got here, (Y/N) was just entering the room with the doctors and nurses. But she was okay, man. We have to wait now, you can’t get in," Morgan stated.

Spencer started pacing the waiting room... waiting. Reid felt sad that he hadn't seen the calls and messages on his phone before. Perhaps he could have arrived in time to see the birth of their little girl. He was anxiously now, waiting next to Morgan and Savannah.

The clock marked 11 pm, midnight, 1 am... and there was still no news. Spencer knew it could be a long time to wait, but he secretly hoped that their little girl wouldn't put up much resistance to get out. Although he didn't blame her, what could be more secure and calm than her mother's womb?

Spencer recalled all the times he dreamed of having a baby. He remembered the times when with (Y/N) talked that he wanted a girl. A little girl to teach her, spoil her, and love her. He dreamed with a little girl as a (Y/N)'s carbon copy. With her eyes, her smile, her personality. He wanted a girl so so much.

When they both were at the doctor's office to know the baby's gender, he was so nervous. Looking at the screen and seeing a tiny bundle moving on made them both cry. And when the doctor said that they were expecting a girl, Spencer almost passed out of pure and utterly emotion.

Spencer was so excited and happy that he did everything he could to make (Y/N) comfortable and supported during her pregnancy. He helped her in everything. Spencer went to all the doctor's appointments. He stayed late at night, helping his wife sleep in a comfortable position. He woke up early to make breakfast. Of course, he read all the books about the pregnancy he could.

In the nights before sleep, Spencer was accustomed to reading a story to his little girl. She started to recognize his voice: every time Spencer talked, the baby moved or kicked. (Y/N) assured him that she would be a daddy's girl. And she was. And she still is. Twenty-six years later, she's his little girl yet.

A commotion brought Spencer out of his thoughts. Hank Morgan appeared in the waiting room with a huge grin that could illuminate all DC.

"It's a healthy little girl!" he yelled. Morgan was the first to hug his son, who now became a father. Spencer looked at him with watering eyes and speechless. The same happened to him when his daughter was born.

After he hugged his mother, Hank moved toward Spencer.

"She is okay. A little tired, but she is okay. And your granddaughter is beautiful and healthy. They are waiting for you," Hank assured Spencer, pointed to the room where his - now two - little girls were.

When Spencer walked into the room, it was like going back 26 years, only this time, a third little person was included in the scene. When his daughter saw him arrive, her eyes lit up. She was holding a small wrapped bundle in her arms. His wife was standing next to the bed, looking at him with a smile on her lips.

"Hi dad!, come over here, I want to introduce you to someone," she said, whispering. Spencer couldn't help but see those beautiful eyes lit up despite the exhaustion after hours of labor. Those eyes his daughter inherited from his wife. He approached slowly and plastered a kiss on his daughter's forehead.

"Hello Pumpkin. I'm so sorry I was late..." Spencer apologized.

"Let's see if you worry about having your phone with enough charge next time," (Y/N) scolded him.

"Mom, don't be rude to Dad. He's already here." Spencer could barely pay attention. Now his eyes were on the little person sleeping in her mother's arms. "Dad, let me introduce you to Amelia Morgan Reid, your granddaughter," she said solemnly.

Because, of course, as Spencer had to learn over the years, children grow and make their lives. Her little girl grew up, fell in love, and made her own family. And with Derek Morgan, his friend for years, they were now joined by their own children. The result of that love now slept peacefully in his daughter's arms.

"Can - Can I hold her?" Spencer asked shyly.

"Sure you can, Dad," she said, handing him the little girl wrapped in a cozy blanket.

When Spencer held his granddaughter in his arms, time stopped for him.

Where did his mind go? To the moment when he held her daughter for the first time. It was a rainy day, and (Y/N)'s water broke at the same BAU. It was Morgan who drove the car to take them to the hospital. Spencer was with (Y/N) the entire time. Encouraging her between each contraction, kissing her temple, and letting her squeeze his hand throughout the process. When the cries of the newborn flooded the room, Spencer swore that at that moment, his life had changed forever. So it was. Holding her daughter for the first time, he promised her always to be for her. Spencer promised to give her all the love in the world and always support her. And Spencer Reid has kept his word.

Now holding his granddaughter, Spencer couldn't help but repeat his vows.

"My little girl. You don't know how happy I am to have you in my arms. You don't know how happy you will make this family. I know that I'll have to share your love and that maybe I won't be your favorite grandfather. I cannot compete with Grandpa Morgan in many things, but I can assure you that I will be there for you when you need me. And the day I leave this world, I will continue to take care of you. Just like I'll continue to take care of your mom and your grandmother," Spencer whispered as Amelia stir and opened her little eyes. A big smile crept on Spencer's face.

"I see you both are already having your first serious conversation," her daughter mused. Spencer turned and walked over to the bed to lay her granddaughter in her mother's arms.

"The same conversation I had with you the day you were born," Spencer replied. "I'm proud of you, Pumpkin," Spencer praised. His daughter smiled.

"Thanks, dad. For everything," she said, snuggling Amelia into her arms again.

"Always. All for my girls," Spencer declared, holding his wife's hand and placing a soft kiss on his daughter's forehead.

And what Spencer Reid said was entirely right. He has given everything. And he will continue doing everything in his power for his wife, daughter, and now for his granddaughter—everything for his family.

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I’m tagging some friends around here!: @andiebeaword @blameitonthenight21 @dreatine @sierraraeck @paulaern @calm-and-doctor @spencers-dria @safertokiss @hopefulfangirl24 @reverdevivre @matthewstiles1912 @goldentournesol @psychedellic-phase @psychicdonuts

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #all for my girls

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tonio-dawson · 4 years

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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!

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"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.

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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.

#blue bloods imagine #antonio dawson #danny reagan #antonio dawson imagine #blue bloods #antonio dawson x reader

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prorevenge · 4 years

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Manipulative Power hungry Aunt torments my family for years. Costs her $300000

Dealt with my shitty manipulative abusive Aunt all my life, finally got revenge.

Players: Myself (M late 30s), Sister (3 year younger), Aunt (Older "Sister" to my Mother), Mother (Single Mom, adopted, no blood relation to my Aunt). Cousins (3 total, 1M, 2F. I have good relationships with them now, mostly).

My estranged father who had been living several counties over, is pretty much out of the picture by the time my parents got their divorce when I was 9. Due to financial hardship, we were forced to live with my Aunt and the nightmare of a household we would soon find ourselves in. My Aunt married into Georgia "Wealth" and you can figure out what that means on your own. She had 3 kids and eventually caught her husband having an affair. It's a huge scandal, she gets the house, the kids and a fat payout from the family attorney. This is important because my Aunt didn't do a damn thing in her life to earn her money, her house, her lifestyle or basically anything. She was born poor along with my Mom.

Under her household, she was drunk with power. Years of therapy have allowed me to recognize that certain people when in a position of power, get a perverse pleasure in ordering others to do their bidding. She was the strictest of authoritarians in every possible way you could imagine. Chores had to be completed by an exact specific time. Vacuuming by 3:45pm, Dishes by 3:55pm, Laundry days for my Mother us kids were Tues/Thurs 5:35pm-7:55pm. If it was still running, she would shut the power off for the two units. As we grew older, her own kids opted to stay with their father for full time custody and she had them on Weekends. Even they couldn't stand her when she was in charge and in the house. As time passed, she got them less and less opting for alternating weekends as Highschool activities took precedence over time with Mother.

For my sister and I, the large 6 bedroom house was not ours for the taking. My mom had to pay rent as well as rent for 1 bedroom as that was all she could afford on her salary. We had to share a bedroom until my second year of HS. All the while there was 1 spare unused bedroom available at all times. My Aunt needed this for "Guests" when they stayed over. Not one guest stayed there in the 10 years I was under that roof. Finally the church we attended told my Aunt to give up the spare bedroom so my sister can have her own room as it was "unhealthy" for two teenagers sharing a room together like that. That infuriated my Aunt because someone told her what to do in her own household. My sister and I got the brunt of her wrath. As my Mom's salary was tapped out, my sister and I had do extra chores like mowing the lawn, trimming the shrubs, cleaning the pool which we could no longer use without her being outside watching us.

My Aunt's behavior was becoming more and more outrageous and disconnected from society. For example, she had always snapped her fingers when she wanted to get someones attention, but it was getting far more frequent and she would blow up into a tirade if either my sister and I didn't obey. Her own kids tried repeatedly to tell her that the shit she was doing was wrong but she wouldn't listen.Eventually they wanted nothing to do with her outside of the home. She was a tyrant there and repeated intervention to get her to see the folly of her ways would fall on deaf ears.

I Snapped:

All through HS I had no confidence as a person. I was weak willed and growing ever distant from friends and society. I say this in all truthfulness and fear, that had circumstances continued the way they had been going, I could very well had taken a gun to myself or worse, to others around me. I was that bad off.

I had just graduated HS and started my first semester of community college. I'm 2 weeks into my classes attending from home when my Aunt drops a bomb on me. "You owe me $$$ for this months rent, the same amount for next months rent as well. It is the 27th after all. You're an Adult now. You're out of HS and working now, so you need to pay rent" The fuck? I blew a fucking gasket as I yelled back. "You can't just suddenly decide to charge me rent just because you feel like it. I need 30 days notice, I have rights".

My Aunt yelled at me some bullshit excuse that she had discussed this with my mother and it was decided that I needed to pay my own rent now. In some miraculous backbone move, of which I still have no idea how I stood up to her, I yelled right back at her, "If I'm an Adult, then treat me like and talk to me about rental agreements. I'll start paying you rent in 30 days starting the 1st." I turned my back to her and walked away with my fists balled tight. I was furious with anger but I walked away. My Aunt saw my fists from behind and screamed bloody murder that I was going to attack her. No, I wasn't. She snapped her fingers at me repeatedly on my tail to get my attention but I didn't turn around. I needed to cool off and clear my head. As I turned the corner, she grabbed my wrist hard yelling "I'm not finished talking to you". I threw my still balled up fist forward keeping with my stride to break her grip as I hadn't stopped my momentum. This caused her grabbing arm to slam hard into the corner of the wall that I had just turned into. She screamed in pain but I left the house and took off.

The aftermath of that incident was that my Aunt called the cops on me in an attempt to press charges. She was taken to the hospital and suffered a fractured wrist and she was put in a cast/sling (don't know as I never saw it and never inquired further). Her story changed every time she told the cops what happened while my story was spot on every time. I can still recall that moment down to the smell in the house, where I was facing, the working and non-working lightbulbs etc. Forever ingrained in me. I was kicked out of the house and I couldn't visit my sister or my Mom there at the house again. Fine by me as I didn't want to see my bitch Aunt ever again. I was happy to meet my Mother and sister at the local diner or outlet. We could be ourselves there and not hostages in our own home.

Years Later:

My Mom wised up and got out of that abusive relationship with her sister and moved out on her own. She got a temporary nice place, invested wisely and with the help from the church, got help getting a place of her own. In 2009 after the housing crisis, she bought her own place that she could never have afforded on her own prior the Market crash. But some good came out of it. She wept knowing my Sister (and her family) and myself can come visit any time and stay.

Over the years I've been able to forgive my Aunt. Not forget, Forgive. I've let go a lot of my anger and hatred toward her that she put me through. When she has no leverage or control over us, she's a somewhat decent person for being a total bitch of a person. My Cousin's have calmed down, heard my side of what happened those years ago and know what kind of person I am compared to what kind of person their Mother is. They chose to believe me and know I didn't hit her or strike her or beat her across the face like she continues to claim.

The Revenge:

While I have been able to forgive my Aunt for what she has done to me, I cannot forgive her for what she did to my Mother. Kept her in financial hardship for a decade while she sat on a bank account full of cash and assets. Or what she did to my Sister. Forced her to pay for damages because the water heater burst while my Aunt and Mother was away one weekend leaving my sister at home. She didn't discover the flooded rooms for hours. My Aunt's reasoning, "It was her responsibility to watch the house." Not the responsibility of the home owner to maintain/replace the water heater before it goes. Lets leave that Upfront $5000 financial burden before the Flood insurance kicks in on a 16 year old girl.

I've had little to no contact with my Aunt since I was kicked out of the house nearly 2 decades ago. But I do keep in constant contact with my cousins. While I'm not going to divulge what I do for a living, I can say that I work with and for the Government. I've worked my ass off getting to where I'm at today. I'm known for being truthful, wise and giving good advise when asked. Because of this, I often talk financially with my cousins. All of whom are money-smart and are doing well for themselves. They often then relay this information to their scheming mother who has no mind for business and investments. All that money she got from her house sale, her divorce settlement, her previous investments is pretty much gone. I spent YEARS planning on the perfect trap and it took a long time to prepare everything to make sure everything appeared right.

IANAL and I don't pretend to know the law but I do know the regulations and laws pertaining to insider information. This is not that. 100% certain of it and if I ever go to court, I know my lawyer has a solid case in my defense. But is this a grey area, most definitely. I let slip to my Cousins about some future real estate plans near my Aunt's new area of living. It "may" be worth a lot more because of future development taking place in the area. All of that was true and backed up by what was in the News paper and New Construction signs that newly appeared on Google Maps (at the time). The rest was fabricated by myself backed up by actual information I looked up on real estate websites and on projects I was working on through my work.

The Telephone game takes place and a few weeks later I presume, my Aunt starts making phone calls to real estate agents trying to buy lots of Land in the undeveloped shitty area of her new house. Over the course of a few months to a half a year, she spends $300,000 of her last remaining savings on land hoping it will pay out when the area around it gets developed in the upcoming years.

Only, HUD/Government/City doesn't have any plans to develop in those immediate areas. In fact, analysis showed that building in those areas was poor planning and would cost the tax payers twice to three times as much as the land was not environmentally sound. It was best to build 6 miles away.

This post was long overdue because it's been over 2 years since my Aunt purchased Land that is basically worthless. See, she won't sell the land unless she gets at least the same price she paid for it because she's the OWNER of that land. Can't tell her what to do on her own land. Sweet Karma strikes in a way I couldn't possibly have foreseen. My cousin informed me that the value of the land has decreased significantly because it's not environmentally sound to build anything commercial there. But it's zoned for commercial use. Currently 3 of the 4 blocks of land she purchased are just weed farms next to eye sore abandoned buildings or industrial complexes. Nobody can build on it and nor does anyone want to buy it. Sucks to be her!

Best part is, my cousins have absolutely no idea that I set them up for their Mother to take the fall. These environmental results are relatively new and the perfect cover to say why the Project changed locations 6 miles away.

TL:DR Abusive Aunt torments my family and myself for a decade and more. Decades later, I am in a position to trick her buying worthless land. Icing on the cake, that land can't be used for it's intended purpose and has devalued significantly.

(source) story by (/u/Limecherrry)

#prorevenge #by /u/Limecherrry #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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residentlesbrarian · 3 years

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The Fourth Book I Read In the Dark: Of Expectations and Other Relatabilities

Of Gryphons and Other Monsters by Shannon McGee

Hey, guys, sooooo...this is aaaawwwkward. I wrote 95% of this review when I wrote the other Books I Read in the Dark series for the blog, but the ADHD hit me and COVID was still you know...a thing! So I am gonna post this review, finished of course, OH, but also pay extra close attention to the conclusion alright! Hmm...this is a bit like a time capsule...here are my concentrated thoughts from 6 months ago while I was slightly delirious on books and darkness. So go forth and uh yeah this one is...you can just feel the feral “I haven’t had access to proper internet so I’ve been curled in the corner like Gollum with my books” energy coming off it so...enjoy?

Okay, so yeah, I really didn’t have a reason to end my last review that way I just wanted to, so sue me for injecting a little excitement into a series of posts about me literally sitting in my house reading nonstop for 2 ½ days, my reviews my rules. Back to manufacturing my own excitement shall we!

It’s Day 2! I’ve just finished my last library book, whatever will I do! I could always reread The Neverending Story for the 1,273rd time, but I have a need. A need for GAY! I rack my brain, there has to be a solution. My town is without power, my local library won’t be open, but then it hits me. It’s so simple! It’s meant to be really! Like the universe knew this was coming and it made sure I was prepared! Like a prepper stockpiling mental SPAM for my stimulus needing ADHD riddled brain! I have an entire shelf of books that I haven’t read yet! Way back in Clexacon 2019 my best friend (Lookin at you @justalifelongphase) gave me way too much money from missed birthdays and Christmases all at once before the con started because the world has deemed it impossible for us to live geographically close to one another. Anyway, I went a little book-buying-crazy and have not had the time or opportunity to read any of them since then. Their time has finally come!

I figured after going full whimsy with The Lost Coast and sci-fi superhero with Dreadnought and Sovereign why not take a dip into more traditional fantasy, also this one was first in line on the shelf, yay for not having to actually make a decision! No more dawdling, let's get right into the review!

Unicorn Rating:

Blurb: Taryn always loves and hates gryphon season. She finds the lesser gryphons more cute than anything but the ever present fear that a greater gryphon might be just out of sight is terrifying, and this gryphon season proves to be the one that will change her and her families lives forever! Just let a girl herd her sheep in peace!

Disclaimer: I will try my best to not spoil anything from the book, but my book loving rambles may give more away than a traditional review. Here we go! Ramble time!

Review:

I genuinely enjoyed this book. It took me a bit longer to get through it than the others, but I think that was a combination of three things: A. I was starting to feel the fatigue of reading so much in such a short amount of time. B. Our local Wal Mart had power restored on Day 3 and our entire household went on a trip to buy non-perishable food stuffs and I was like a solitary confinement prisoner being let out into the yard for the first time in months when my phone picked up a wifi signal and it was a bit hard to get back into the swing of reading after talking to other humans, even virtually, that weren’t imaginary or in my head. C. Our power was finally restored on the afternoon of Day 3 so yet again I was inundated with the draw of technology and all of my friend-os I hadn’t talked to, but the book had drawn me in enough I did the most unmillienial thing and left my phone in a different room to charge while I finished this book before going back to the land of technology and interwebs. That should tell you something.

McGee was able to write this story in a way that pulls you in so you care about what happens to these characters and this little mountain town. You learn just enough about the world to understand where they fit within the overall weave of it, but you aren’t given a Tolkein-esc dissertation on the world lore. I felt the worries and the fears. I was concerned when the routines had to change. I mean she made me care about the freaking sheep! Sheep, people! One of the reasons I think this works so well is we are so firmly rooted in the head of our protagonist, Taryn. Imma use that lovely bridge I just built to skip right on over the plot section of the review to get to the characters first, don’t worry we’ll circle back round to the plot. I always do, but I just wanna talk about my newest set of brain babies.

Taryn is a character that, if the title of this post is anything to go by, I found very very relatable. Now I know relatability can be pretty subjective, some people can latch onto something with the all consuming, “It me!” While others just stare on dead eyed not understanding the appeal. I feel like Taryn could be that kind of protagonist. You are either going to really relate to her or you won’t understand where she is coming from at all. I obviously fall in the former category. I was the quintessential middle child, still am really, though my relationship with my parents has shifted now that I’m an adult. More mutual respect and friendship than parent to child. I always did my best to pick up the slack, if ever there was any, and just tried my best to be as little of a burden as possible to my parents. I see so much of that aspect of myself in Taryn and how she sees her place at the farm and even in the town, she has her place and her role, but those expectations are heavy. One of those expectations being that she will inevitably get married and help take over the farm from her parents and have kids to continue the line. The fact she finds the lesser gryphons that flock near the farm far cuter than any of the local boys that she will eventually have to choose from to fulfill that inevitable expectation is just...sad at best and down right tragic at worst. And her family doesn’t help matters either. They won’t let her forget that she will have to settle down with one of these local boys, a boy who would make a good husband and take good care of her and the farm. She knows that, logically, but she also wants to be in love, like her parents, and she just doesn’t feel like that for any of the boys in town. She doesn’t know how to make those two things line up. It’s a struggle between her head, the obligation of what she has to do, and her heart, what she really wants for her future, to be happy in doing what she has to do. Wow, I went off a little bit there, but this was my long winded way of saying I have never read a protagonist that really captured the utter confusion of being raised in a heteronormative environment without it being drenched in internalized homophobia and fear. Protagonists like this seem to always know something is off but just don’t have the words for it so they just hide it because they know it’s “different” and out of the norm, but Taryn is just livin’ her sheep herding life and ain’t got no time for these boy crazy fools. She knows her mom wants her to find a good boy to court her so she can marry someday but she’s still young. She’ll think about that tomorrow, and she just repeats that ad infinitum. The thought that maybe she doesn’t fancy any of the boys because well...girls...never even occurred to her. It's not how things are done in this small mountain town, not because of homophobia reasons, but just stubborn tradition reasons. We are even told there is a gay couple living in town who are staples in the overall dynamics in town, instrumental even, but the idea of having a lineage, being able to pass your land down is so ingrained no wonder poor Taryn was so in the dark about her own probable gayness till it slapped her in the face. As someone who was raised in a medium sized Oklahoma town...girl I feel you. I was 22 and in the middle of Appalacia, way up in the mountains for college when my gay awakening popped up and said “Hello!” Everything that never quite made sense in my life came into perfect clarity. Not quite what happened with Taryn, but the arrival of Aella surely helped, as pretty girls are want to do. Oh look a segue, good, cause I could talk about Taryn for literal hours and I’ve already gabbed about her too much for this review.

Aella, you smooth motherfucker. Like I wish I could possess a quarter of the smoothness that you do. Like I’m lucky to string sentences together around a pretty girl, but here you are just strutting about being the smoothest of smooth. Honestly, I just...I can’t with you Aella. On a serious note though Aella is a character that served as showing Taryn a glimpse at the world beyond her small mountain town, as much as she had no desire to leave, unlike her brother. Nope, sit down, we’ll get to you, Michael! Oh, we’ll get to you. She’s traveled and has stories from all over and she is fairly open about the fact that she only likes girls, but she doesn’t have land, responsibilities, and a family line to continue. She just gets to live her life the way she choses. And y’all know I am a sap for the hard dark characters that are totally softies underneath that rough exterior. I think Aella was a great foil to Taryn and great at showing her what she could have if she was willing to leave, to stretch what she was allowed to wish for, but of course the biggest issue with her wishing for anything was...Michael.

Michael was such an interesting character. I loved him. I hated him. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to punch him. Again as with the town and the people of the town I was so deep seated in Taryn’s head and feelings that her conflicted feelings about Michael and how he was acting became my feelings on the matter. Not enough to not separate a tad and see what was coming or at least try to predict it as I always do when reading, but emotionally I was right with Taryn the whole way. The one thing that really pushed Michael from just a character I was conflicted about to one I really wanna give a swift kick in the nads to, is that he knew. He knew all about Taryn’s absolute lack of romantic inclinations toward any of the boys in town and her doubts that she would ever find someone to love and marry to take over the farm. He was the only person she confided these fears in and he still selfishly followed his own pursuits with little regard to her or her worries. You sir, are a terrible brother and overall a shit human, so sit your ass down and shut your mouth.

The plot for this book was so embroiled with the characters and their journeys that I can’t talk on it much but the twists at the end and the final climax was very satisfying for me and left me excited to dig into the next book. Also something of note that I didn’t talk about in the character section cause I felt it was dragging on a touch, I really only talked in depth on our three biggest players but there is a very colorful cast of side characters ranging from Taryn’s nervous pony to the boy-who-cried-gryphon neighbor no one can stand to the troupe of hunters led by Aella’s mother to Taryn’s best friend Nia, all of whom play important parts in building that sense of caring about the people of this town and the town itself, which in turn made me deeply care about the outcome of the plot at the heart of the story. And the sheep! The god damn sheep!

One thing I do want to say before my final thoughts is that whoever designed the cover of this book in a genius because as I dug into the story I found myself constantly closing it to spout off about theories of what I thought was happening on the cover and what it all meant, I was kind of reader fatigue delirious for most of those theories but some of them I was right! I might have reenacted the Captain Holt “Vindication” gif IRL just because it felt too good not to. I just love when a “cool” cover turns out to be so much more than that once you’re “in the know”. So yeah, now y’all know to pay attention for that.

My final thoughts on this book are pretty positive. I can tell the author is building us toward so much more, hence the name of the series, Taryn’s Journey, and it feels like it. This is only the beginning and I honestly can’t wait to take the next steps with her.

Queer Wrap-up:

Hey it’s me from the future...present...whatever...so, this is when I stopped writing the review six months ago and there is a reason for that. I, kind of, agonized over what to rate this book on the scale. Multiple times having to call my brother and go back and forth just to then repeat the same arguments with myself as soon as I got off the phone. Now why was this such a hard terrible no good awful back and forth well...SPOILER WARNING...seriously anything past this point will be spoiling some character beats for the majority of the book...okay? We understand one another. DANGER ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE...or you know scroll on.

So, Taryn is never confirmed to be queer in the text of this book. Now you would have to be wearing the tightest hetero goggles in known history not to see the heavy HEAVY subtext saying THIS BITCH GAY! It’s basically a full grown elephant painted sparkly rainbow trying to hide behind a dead shrub aka not hiding at all. I so desperately wanted to give this book four of those darling unicorns but in this rare case I just don’t think I can justify it. We have a protagonist that is still figuring herself out, which is amazing that we get to see that and go on the journey with her. Some of the things Taryn does and thinks are queer coded as hell, especially if it involves Aella who is explicitly gay on the page, but Taryn herself never express whether she herself is queer. Which, fair, other really important and traumatizing things were going on and I love that about her as a character, she didn’t meet Aella and suddenly that was all she could think about. Aella, of course, is representation who I’m counting because even though she shows obvious interest (you smooth motherfucker) in Taryn she is so much more than just a love interest and her character isn’t just boiled down to her sexuality. Now in this wrap up I’m also including the doctor and his husband in the town. They are very minor characters but they give us interesting insights into the town and the people. They are accepted and treated well in town even if some do almost, pity isn’t the right word, but they seem sad that they won’t be able to have any kind of legacy or lineage. As I said in the review it’s not homophobia it’s being stuck in your ways and it’s an interesting take.

Links:

Shannon McGee Website

The Storygraph

Okay so this one is a bit of a mess. Pieces of it were written 6 months apart and most of it was written while I was kind of delirious but hey at least I can say it’s honest. I still stand by everything my past self wrote and I still really enjoy thinking and talking about this book and am excited for whenever I get around to reading the sequel to continue on Tayrn’s journey with her. This is a book I probably would never have known even existed without ClexaCon and trolling through artist alley for literally every table that had books on them. I guess, moral of the day is maybe you won’t just find great books on library shelves but on unassuming convention tables too and it never hurts to look. Trust me, I’m a lesbrarian.

Oh bet you thought this post was over. I did the sign off and everything but oh no no! I have some info and such to impart. I am WELL AWARE these reviews have been fairly inconsistent to down right sporadic. Well, this is just a little info dump letting you guys know I am gonna be putting up one more review after this one that I wrote ages ago and I mean AGES (think years, as in multiple) and just never got around to posting and then the old blog is probably gonna be going through a PLANNED dormancy while some pretty big stuff is coming down the pike. You may notice visual changes and other stuff before anything else is announced but just keep an eye out. To quote the Fates from Hercules, “It’s gonna be big!”

Okay now for the actual sign off, I got shit to do! No one look behind the curtain, it’s a surprise!

#Of Gryphons and Other Monsters #Shannon McGee #resident lesbrarian #3 unicorns #questioning girl #lesbian #heavy wlw romantic subtext #ya novel #ya fantasy #go to your local library #but wear a mask #and wash your hands #and stay 6 feet apart #be safe out there guys gals and nonbinary pals

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superworldunkown · 4 years

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King Explosion Marbles

AN: Yo. I literally just switched browsers and I lost my entire draft! UGH! Anyways this is not the start or point of the story but, the title relates to ‘Marble Jar friends’ from Brene Brown. I love it, and highly suggest you look into her and the meaning behind it. And, I am 100% convinced out of all of the Bakusquad, my BB would have the most marbles. Read on to know more.

Summary: Bakugou is convinced the group has lost their marbles. And yes, it was all your fault. Bakugou x POC reader (Because, Yes. Just yes.)

“UGH! I swear I could...I could just kick someone in the face right now.”

Everyone looked up. Even Bakugou. Usually he was the overtly aggressive one of the group. In fact, what the hell?! Was someone coming for his unofficial/official place in BakuSquad rankings? But he said nothing. No one did. Mina Ashido was not one to be messed with. And the fact that she was displaying an emotion that wasn’t bubbly and bright meant danger was near. And no one, not even the Explosion Hero himself would get in her path.

You, however, were the brave soul that dared engage with the seething hero in training, “Something up Mina?”

Everyone was currently lounging in Sero’s room. His, by far, was the nicest of the group. Bakugou’s room was still a mystery, and the group was almost certain that it was boobytrapped with grenades. And you were a general studies student, so you never offered your space for study sessions due to the rising conflict between the classes. Sero was currently lounging in his hammock while Denki and Kirishima were sitting on his bed, back propped up against the wall, currently engaged in a video on Sero’s laptop. Bakugou sat seated at the desk across the room, trying not to pay attention while he studied the open book in front of him. You were positioned on your back on the floor, your head resting against the plush pillows.

“Yeah, you want a ride in the hammock? It’ll help calm you down.” Sero added with a bit of smoothness.

“I don’t want a hammock. I want revenge!” Mina’s eyes were practically glowing. All the boys began to mentally prepare their emergency exit plans.

“Girl...” You patted the pillow next to you, “Step into my office.”

Mina let out another groan before dropping to her knees and falling head first into the plush pillow. Your hand found her way to her back, running soft circles against her uniform while she kicked and pounded her fists on the floor.

Crisis Avoided.

“Whew,” Kirishima sighed softly, “Man, I’m glad we added Y/N to the group.” His red eyes turning towards the blonde boy at the desk. Bakugou, knowing he was being watched pressed his cheek further into his palm and continued to study quietly.

“So,” you began, “What’s got you upset?”

Mina, now in a much more calmer state turned her head towards you, “Hagakure told one of my biggest secrets to everyone down in the common room! It was so embarrassing, and I know everyone was laughing! Even if they weren’t.”

“Oh. And I bet that was something Hagakure wasn’t supposed to tell other people, right?”

“Yeah! I mean, I didn’t say don’t tell anyone but...girl code you know! I swear, for someone so invisible she sure has a big mouth!”

Sero let out a low whistle. Mina was in full savage mode.

“Aw, that wasn’t very manly of her.” Kirishima, bless this boy, tried to chime in to show care to his friend, however the girls gave him a dangerous glare and he quickly turned his attention back to the laptop screen.

“Anyways,” Mina continued, “I swear I’ll never trust her or anyone again!”

You nodded taking everything in, “Well don’t punish everyone because she made a bad decision. People have to earn your trust. Maybe you just need to take a couple marbles out of her jar, until she earns them back.”

Now everyone’s attention was on you.

“Huh?”

“Marble what?” Kirishima asked.

“Yeah what’s that about marbles?” Sero added in.

“What?! Did Hagakure lose her marbles or something?!” Denki practically shouted.

Bakugou just turned a red eye towards you. It was his silent ways of saying, “Explain.”

And, you did. “You guys never heard about marble jar friends before?” taking in the confused faces you continued. Sitting up you scooted towards the small table which was adorned with a small zen garden and a few small decorative bowls, “Okay well my mom taught me that the people in your life have to earn your trust. And the more trust you have, the more you let them into your life and the more you can be open with them and tell your secrets and stuff like that.”

The group watched as you reached for a small stone in the zen garden, placing into the bowl, “When someone does or says something kind to you, you put a marble in their jar. And when they do something that hurts you, you take it out.” You reached back for the stone, placing it back in the garden.

Denki gave a confused face, “So, you have jars for all your friends?”

You chuckled, “Not physically, no. But I do in my head.” You turned your attention towards the pink haired girl, “So you can still be friends with Hagakure, she just has to earn back her marbles before you trust her with one of your secrets again.”

“Oooh,” Mina leaned in closer, examining the bowl and the zen garden.

“Wait! How do you earn a marble?” Sero asked, he was leaning so forward he was about one inch away from falling out of his hammock. In fact, everyone was fixated on you. Even Bakugou. (granted he was still staring at his textbook, but he did turn his chair ever so slightly in your direction).

“You decide that.” You answered. The room was shook.

“So, if Kirishima let’s me look at his notes, is that a marble?” Denki asked.

“It can be.”

The two boys looked at eachother, smiling before bumping firsts.

“What if someone lets you borrow their weight set? Do they get a marble?”

“That could be two marbles. It depends on you.”

“Hey Bakugou!” Kirishima smiled, “You got two marbles!”

“Shut up, idiot!”

“And if Hagakure tells me she’s sorry, does she get a marble back?”

You shrugged, “Sure. It’s up to you.”

Everyone was on board, especially Denki, “Hey, I charge all your phones all the time, how many marbles are you guys giving me?”

“You’re not getting marbles that easy!” Mina laughed, “You do that for everyone.”

“Yeah.” Sero spoke with a sense of professionalism. A true, marble connoisseur, “You truly must do something extraordinary to earn one of my marbles.”

“See if I ever charge any of your phones again! It’s now a three marble minimum.”

Oh dear, you had to do damage control. “Guys, I think you’re taking this way out of context.”

The sound of Bakugo slamming his book shut caught everyone's attention. Bakugou stood, snatching the rest of his school books and walking towards the door, “I can’t even concentrate with you idiots talking about stupid friendship stones or whatever the fuck you call them. Mindterms are comin’ up! Don’t you all have studying to do?!”

Sero narrowed his eyes and gave a sly smile, “They’re called Marble Jar friends Bakugou.”

“Yeah maybe you should study how to be nice to people!” Denki joked.

Your finger drew to your lips as you shushed Denki, who was clearly in his ‘torture Bakguou’ mode.

For whatever reason, when you were around, Denki could nag and pull jokes on Bakugou and he wouldn’t get blasted to bits. He reveled in it. Bakugou fucking hated it.

Bakugou instantly became red, he wasn’t sure why. Both of your eyes connected, which only made it worse“...Fuck off! All of you! I don’t give a shit what they’re called!” He slammed the door shut grumbling all the way back to his dorm room.

(TWO DAYS LATER)

Bakugou was currently lying in bed, his face still buried in a text book, his free arm hard at work lifting a rather heavy weight. He had made himself scarce the past few days. He had mostly spent his days holed up in his room, class, or the training grounds. Midterms were approaching, and for some annoying reason, Deku’s grades were getting closer to his own. Now Bakugou’s time was devoted to keeping his top rank, and keeping Deku from coming anywhere close to his grades. Despite his valiant effort of staying totally focused, the vibration of his phone caught his attention. And, though he tried to ignore it, it pinged a few more times, gaining his full attention.

Dropping his weights and books and unlocking the device, he saw your name flash across the bright screen.

“Don’t tell anyone... I can’t afford to lose any of my marbles.” The message read, followed by a video link. Tentatively, Bakugou clicked play.

***

“Alright everyone get-Hey! Are you recording us?” Kirishima asked, staring at you with wide ruby eyes.

“What are you talking about? I’m checking out the hero charts.” You lied from the other side of the device.

Kirishima continued to stare for an extra second before turning his attention back to the group who was all huddled around a table in the 1-A common room, mason jars and brightly colored marbles littered the wooden surface, “Okay, everyone get your Bakugou jars.”

The group took the Marble Jar friends analogy quite literally, and prepared secret meeting to share the marble jars and where everyone in class ranked. You decided to let them have their moment. It was fun, even though marbles were rolling everywhere.

Everyone slid their jars to the center of the table, the sound of marbles clinking against the glass filled the room as Bakugou watched from the small screen.

“Whoa! Kirishima your jar is almost full!” Denki exclaimed while examining the overflowing jar.

“Well yeah, he is my best friend after all.” The redhead gushed slightly. He pointed at each marble as he continued, “This ones for that time when the villains attacked the USJ and Bakugou stopped a villain from attacking me. And this one is for that that one time he invited me on that trip to I-Island after the Sports Festival. That was so fun, I gave him like 5 for that. And this one’s for always saving me a seat on the bus when we head to Ground Beta-”

“I gave him a marble for that!” Mina added happily, “For when he saves us all seats at lunch...I mean, I think he does. He’s always sitting at a empty table with 5 empty chairs...Maybe no one wants to sit with him but I think he does it for us. And I gave him a few marbles for that time he told me I was going to be his partner in hero defense training. He picked me! Mr. Aizawa didn’t even assign us!”

“I gave him one for using my real name.” Sero laughed. “That was pretty cool. I’m only ‘soy sauce face’ half of the time now!”

“You only gave him one marble for that?! You’re cheap Sero.”

***

The video cut before Bakugou could hear his response. As his screen shut off he caught his reflection. Was he smiling?! Damn-it. Damn you.

His screen once again lit up,

“Sorry to distract you from your studies.” Your message read. “But, figured you could add ‘King Explosion Marbles’ to you Hero Name list, if you were still undecided.”

Two buildings down in the 1-C dorms you were nervously staring at your phone waiting for a response, even though it was Bakugou and you probably weren’t going to get one. Hopefully your plan worked. And, if on the rare occasion he did tell everyone that you recorded them during the ‘secret marble jar friends party’ earlier in the evening they would forgive you. Ugh, the things you did for the weird, moody, emotionally challenged friends in your life.

Your set your phone on your lap while your finger wrapped around one of your tight curls. We’re you just friends though? You never nervously twirled your hair with anyone else. It was always him. When he gives you that cocky grin, he made your so nervous your freckles shook. And despite the brown hue of your beautiful skin, he made your cheeks glow like damn stoplight.

Before you could further dive into your monologue the vibration of your phone shook you back to reality.

Bakugou: “come over.”

You pulled your night shirt up over your lips to hide your smile. But, none the less you grabbed your already packed overnight bag, quickly replying back,

“On my way.”

****

AN: Okay, how many marbles would be in your Bakugou jar? (He get all my marbles, and den some)

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo #mha #mha my hero academia #bnha #bakugou poc #bakugou x poc #poc reader #fanfic #bakugou fanfiction

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jyvurentropyblog · 4 years

Text

How To Choose a POV?

One of my writer friends asked me to write something about POV. She didn’t have a specific question, but basically asked if I might cover the different types of POVs and which ones work better in certain circumstances.

Well, like I told her, this is going to be a VERY biased post. I am incredibly partial to third limited. I choose third limited almost every story I write.

Let me start by explaining the different POVs.

First Person: Uses the pronoun I

“I went to the store.”

Second Person: Uses the pronoun You

“First you need to go to the store, get some eggs and vanilla extract.”

Second person is rare in fiction. It is most often used in non-fiction books that include instructions, or recipes, or other how-to guides.

Every once in awhile, a writer will be really artsy-fartsy and use second person in fiction.

Second person in fiction would look like this:

“You go to the store. You see a long line of people. You sigh and shuffle down the aisle.”

One notable example of second person in non-artsy-fartsy fiction would be the choose your own adventure books.

Third Person: Uses third-person pronouns such as “She/He/They/Ze/etc

“Ze went to the store.”

But within third-person you have two options:

Third Limited or Third Omniscient

With third limited, readers are privy to the thoughts and feelings of only one character per chapter or scene. A story can still have multiple POVs, but within a scene or chapter, the POV remains only with one character.

In my novel ‘Desire and Destruction’, I alternate POVs every other chapter. So it goes one chapter in Cole’s POV and one chapter in Ingrid’s POV. When we’re in a Cole chapter, we can see what Ingrid does, but not what she thinks or feels. We can not see into her head. And the reverse is true when we’re in an Ingrid chapter.

With third omniscient, there is a god-like narrator who is looking into the minds of ALL the characters. This narrator is often somewhat detached and may look down on certain characters and praise other characters. Basically, it isn’t that deep-third that we get with third-limited. The narrator often has their own personality and way of viewing the characters. Within any scene, the narrator can relate the thoughts, feelings, or backstory of any character.

I do not recommend third omniscient. As I covered in my last post, very few people have the skill to know when to use it AND how to pull it off effectively. Most stories are not enhanced by third omniscient. I’m not saying you should never use it, but don’t jump in and give it a whirl just because a lot of the old classics use this style.

Remember the time period that was hard AF for third-limited also experimented with narrative style to the point that Frankenstein is told via letters by someone who has nothing to do with the story and just happened to meet Dr. Frankenstein out in the wilderness. It’s a summary of a summary. Wuthering Heights is told exclusively in conversations between the housekeeper and a tenant, neither of whom are main characters. Look.....the classics of the Romantic and Victorian era were....on some real other shit. Writing like the classics isn’t always a solid plan.

So that’s my extreme cautioning against third omniscient. I just don’t think it adds anything to most stories and is far too likely to jar or confuse readers and come across as head-hopping.

But third-limited on the other hand....

I ADORE third-limited. Let me explain why I like it.

You get all the perks of first person AND all the perks of third-person. You can be somewhat detached, but you still get a front row seat to the thoughts and feelings of one character at a time. When you really pull off a nice deep-third, you’re fully immersed in the character’s inner world, but there’s still a bit of a buffer. You still aren’t writing AS the character.

Here is a section of my book ‘Combustion’ in third-limited where I was going for deep-third.

~The flame birthed itself at the end of the match. It danced, red and orange, against the backdrop of the still night. Rachel opened her mouth as wide as she could, until the corners of her lips were stretched as far as they would go. She made sure that her mouth was a wide, round circle. Just like the man on fire. Probably just like Mary Reeser had done. She was going to spontaneously combust. She would do it now.

And she could stop waiting for it to happen. She was never going to have to be afraid of it happening again. It was all about to be over. Rachel watched the flame slide down lower, burning away at the wood of the match. It was going to reach her hand soon, so she had to do this fast. Spontaneous Human Combustion started inside the body.

Rachel understood why the man on fire had his mouth wide open.

There wasn't any time left.

Rachel took the match and placed it into her open mouth.~

It’s in third-person, but it’s still written in a way where we can feel her fear, her confusion, her dissociation. We can see her reasoning. Of course, her reasoning is flawed. She should not be trying to make herself spontaneously combust JUST so that she can stop being afraid of it happening.

So how do you know if you should choose third-limited or first? (because third omniscient and second person should rarely be used). Well, I’m biased, and I believe third-limited works well for most stories.

That being said, I have chosen first person for two of my stories. One is my now shelved manuscript ‘Femcel’ which I will eventually be rewriting and it will be retitled ‘Pick Me.’ The other is my collab story with Emily Hurricane ‘When The Darkness Takes Us.’

For ‘When The Darkness Takes Us’ I had a very specific reason for choosing first person. This character is a self-insert. It’s a fictionalized account of something very difficult I went through semi-recently.

So I suppose I’d say, when it’s a really emotional story with strong voice, first person may be a better choice. When it’s a very personal story, first person may be a better choice. When you’re writing a character who rants and raves and switches gears mid-thought-stream so quickly that a third-person narrator wouldn’t do it justice-it would only slow the stream-of-consiousness down.

I also chose first person for my book ‘Femcel’ which is not currently online, because I need to make some changes to it.

Here is an excerpt from ‘Femcel.’

~If every single day was a day off from work with Sailor Moon dvds and an entire pickle pizza all to myself, well, then I think life would be a-okay. Today has been great. I cleaned my room and then I pulled out my trusty Sailor Moon box set. Auntie and Mom-mom are both at work, so nobody to bug me about what I'm eating. I ordered a large pizza and I got the owner on the phone when the new guy didn't understand that they can put pickles on a pizza. It isn't on the menu, but they do it for me all the time.

I told him, "You charge me for a pepperoni pizza and tell the guy cooking it to put on pickles. Ask Jim. He always does it." But the guy still thought I was full of it.

Eventually they sorted it out though. And yeah, I know it's bad to eat an entire large pizza myself. Don't go thinking I'm a total pig. I only eat like this when I watch anime.

Usually I don't eat enough. Mom-mom says I'm too thin and she isn't wrong. If I lay on my stomach too long at night, my ribs start to hurt. I'm the only woman in my family with a stick body. Everybody else has nice curves. I barely have boobs and my butt is flat. I tried doing squats for awhile, but when nothing much happened, I figured it was probably all nonsense. You know? A placebo.

It's only four in the afternoon, but already it's getting dark. I hate winter. Especially once Christmas is over. I feel so upset and anxious every day in that long dead span of winter, January through March, when there's nothing to look forward to and it feels like the world just dead ass stopped. Sludge in every parking lot. Everything is cold and wet. Kek. And it's the middle of January. Top kek. (I mean that sarcastically. Obviously).~

I chose first for Ana’s story, because I imagined her as this very voicey character with this sweet and sarcastic personality. She’s also incredibly immature (which does make sense since she’s in her very early 20s) and I felt that youth and naiveté would across more strongly in first person.

So....what’s the hard and fast rule for deciding between third-limited and first?

I....uh....

I wish I could tell you lol

Like my last post about balancing dialogue with other storytelling elements, I have to say, I just play it by ear.

I will say, I think every writer should figure out early on which POV they prefer to write in. Try them all out. Try writing the same scenes in first and third and see which one you like better.

I did this while I was getting my B.A in Creative Writing and after several rounds of playing with third-limited and first, I discovered I’m incredibly partial to third-limited.

That doesn’t mean there isn’t any room for first. Like I said, I realized first was the better choice for two of my WIPs. But knowing that third-limited is my default style, I always have a starting point. I start most stories in third-limited and it’s only when third-limited starts to feel....well...limiting that I give first a whirl.

In the end, it’s about what YOU as the writer are most comfortable with. Some people say it depends on the story you want to tell, and I agree to an extent, but at the same time, if you hate writing in first person and you try to force it, the story may suffer for it. For years, I wrote exclusively in third-limited before I was comfortable enough to test out first person.

Third-limited and first both accomplish different things. First person has more voice and immediacy, while third-person allows a writer to be more poetic and detached.

Which POV do you like best? When you experiment with both POVs, which allows your story to come to life more?

There’s no real rule of thumb.

Like everything with writing, it’s all a matter of intuition; following your gut and looking at every story as a unique experience.

I know that was wishy-washy, but it’s the best I can do while still being honest!

There just aren’t any true absolutes with writing.

Good luck fellow writers <3

#writingadvice #writing #pov #second person pov #first person pov #thirdperson #thirdlimited #omniscient reader's viewpoint #self-insert #femcels

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famouslastwordsinmexico · 4 years

Text

Suggested for You

You think to yourself, I shouldn’t have looked that up online.

You’re now staring at a bunch of banner ads that frame your email inbox. Each one is attempting to entice you to purchase succulents from flower shops near and far, small and conglomerated. The bright, animated images boast to you about how their store’s succulents will set you on the path to self-care while reconnecting you with nature. You know these ads are suggested to you and tailored specifically for you based on your search history, but, really, you just wanted to know how to spell “succulent”.

To be fair, you probably shouldn’t be looking up non-work related curiosities while actually at work, but it’s been a slow morning. And yet, right as you excuse yourself for the trivial indiscretion, you’re called into your manager’s office. You lock your computer and worriedly head over to where they wait for you. Upon entering the room you see that there is someone else here for this impromptu meeting. Or, rather, someone has video-called in, their face on your manager’s monitor, which has been turned to meet yours.

“A representative from HR will be joining us remotely,” your manager informs you. They then sit on the front edge of their desk, not behind it, in a manner you suspect all managers unironically believe comes off as cool and relaxed.

“Huh. Is something wrong?” You cautiously take your seat, looking between them and the digital HR rep.

“Oh, no, not at all. It’s just a small request.” They fold their hands in front of them. “That presentation you’re working on for Friday; I wanted to ask if you would give it over to Robert.”

“Robert? Why? I thought it was supposed to be my project.” You worked hard on that presentation, and even harder on that project. It was something that was going to get you noticed by the higher-ups, a first step towards bigger things.

“It is. Or, it was. It…” They stop themselves, physically appear to reset, and adopt a concerned face. “We’re simply worried it might be putting too much stress on you.” They lean in. “How are you feeling? Is everything alright with you?”

“Uh… I’m doing fine?” You’re progressively less certain about what’s happening.

“You sure? You can be honest with us.” They lean back. “We’ve heard you’ve been depressed.”

The shock of this gives you mental whiplash.

“‘Depressed’?” you echo. “Why would you think that?”

“Well,” they begin, affecting the concerned yet distant tone in which only senior managers are capable of speaking, “it’s come to our attention that you’ve been sharing some pretty troubling sentiments.”

“I only really talk about work-related stuff with people, honestly.”

“No, I’m referring to the stuff you share online.”

Dumbfounded, you blink.

“You see,” your manager explains, “we recently employed a service that keeps us up to date with our employees.” They seem mildly pleased with themself over their technological ability. They speak to you but look at the HR rep on screen. “Of course, it’s only because we care for the well-being of everyone here in the office. And their software told us that you’ve been feeling quite down lately. They even highlighted some examples; is it not true that you recently posted about how nothing really matters?”

You don’t recall using those words for anything. As you confusedly shrug, they pull out their phone and hand you it, showing the post in question.

“Wait, what?” you ask. “Those are song lyrics. To a very popular song! I shared them for a ‘Throwback Thursday’.”

“Hmm, no,” they say, taking their phone back. “I’m still seeing a cry for help. Like, what about this one: ‘All I want is to sleep and pizza and do nothing and sleep’? That sounds pretty depressed.”

“That was one of those online things where people let auto-complete write a post for them.”

“Sure, then how do you explain this post, where you describe how you wish the food truck across the street would ‘run you over’ if you ‘tipped extra’ for your burrito before you got back in from lunch?”

“That’s a really old post I made when I was at my old job. The one I left for this job! I made that joke to vent. Other people liked it.” Specifically two people: a friend, and the food truck’s company (which you presume auto-likes any mention of their brand).

Your manager sighs as they shake their head.

“Come on, now, you don’t have to hide. You can be honest.” They lean in again. “This is sophisticated software; it wouldn’t lie. Its algorithm combed through your life and crunched the numbers. You are depressed. And, if you’re feeling depressed, we want to make sure the company isn’t placing any undue stress on you. Wouldn’t want you turning around and saying we’re unfair, or that we torment you with public speaking, huh?” No one laughs at their non-joke. The HR rep briefly writes something on their notepad. “Right. Well, when we ask you to hand the presentation off to Robert, it’s not just because we want it to turn out well, it’s because we want you to be well, too.”

“You’re punishing me because of memes?” you ask, unsure of how much incredulity you can show without further risking your job.

“Oh, no, of course not,” they reply, “we would never!” At this point your manager doesn’t even try to hide that they’re assuring the HR rep more than they’re talking to you. “This company does not punish depression. In fact,” they add, turning back to you, “why don’t you take the rest of the day off? We’ll mark it down as a sick day, a day for ‘personal care’, even.” They nod to themself, satisfied. “I’ll mark it down in your time sheet right now.”

They pull out their phone and begin typing, finished with this meeting. You want to tell them not to do that, since you only have a limited number of sick days, but feel there’d be no use arguing. You stand up, at a loss for words. As you slowly turn to leave you find the HR rep is pointing towards the printer in the room. It prints off something you deduce they sent remotely. It appears to be a pamphlet. The person in the monitor motions for you to pick it up, their face set in the textbook definition of a polite smile. The pamphlet is titled Dealing with Depression.

Your smartwatch pings as you grab the pamphlet and the screen displays an ad for succulents. You turn the watch off.

You don’t feel like going home right away. You instead head to a nearby cafe and order the kind of sugary latte you know isn’t worth the high price and higher calorie count, but you could use the comfort. There are no real baristas here, only machines that charge you extra to print a picture of yourself onto the latte foam. You pay the extra amount. You then sign on to the free wifi, checking off the terms and conditions you didn’t read, and take a picture of your cup to share online. Not five minutes of browsing later you get a call from your mom. You plug in your headset and answer.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

“Yeah, how do you mean?” You wonder why everyone’s asking you that today.

“Because you’re not at work!” You realize now that the picture you just posted is location-tagged. “And I know what kind of drinks you like when you’re feeling sad; I’m your mother, after all.” You should’ve never accepted her friend request.

“No, it’s not that, it’s just… I’m alright. Working from home today, but I figured I’d grab a coffee. That’s all, I promise.”

You don’t think she believes you but her silence tells you she won’t push if you don’t want to tell her the truth. You instead get a notification on your phone that your mom has sent you a “poke”, a feature that only moms still remember exists. She breaks the silence first.

“Well, okay then,” she offers, “if you say so. Anyways, there was something else I wanted to ask you about.” Her tone gets conspiratorial for her next question. “Are you and Jamie dating?”

“What?!” You nearly choke on your latte. “No! Why do you think that?”

“Your aunts told me,” she answers plainly. “And, apparently, some of their friends told them first. They’re still not used to, you know, those kinds of relationships.” As progressive as your mom can be, her age and upbringing still show from time to time.

“I don’t even know my aunts’ friends, why would they think I’m dating Jamie?”

“They saw your picture online.”

You rub your eye, annoyed.

“What picture, mom?”

“Well,” she starts, and if phones still had cords you could imagine your mom twirling hers now, wrapping her finger as she shares the gossip, “you see, one of your aunts’ friends was online and saw you as a suggested friend.” You never understood what algorithms determined those suggestions. “She was curious, so she went in and browsed your page. There it was, a photo of the two of you, looking pretty close and cozy.”

You check your account on your phone. There’s no way someone randomly looking you up online could’ve seen that photo. Although, how many times did the site tell you they were updating their privacy policy and you opted to skip the details of what that meant?

“Mom, didn’t you see that picture yourself before? That was just Jamie and me playing around. You know we’re just friends.”

“Yes, I thought it was nothing. But, those friends of your aunts talk a lot, and they do seem very convinced. I looked at the picture again and it got me thinking.” Her tone gets conspiratorial again. “Are you dating Jamie? I’d have nothing against it. Your father, though…” You block the headset mic to hide your exasperated sigh, and then interrupt before she can finish the thought.

“We’re not close, mom, not like that. My aunts and their friends are making up stories.” You wonder how scrutinized any future pictures you post will be. Maybe you should restrict how much of your profile your mom can access. You’ll have to figure out the new privacy settings first.

“Yes, fine, you’re right. I’m simply saying they sounded convinced, is all.” You can almost picture her busying herself with some chores at home to prove that she’s over it. And yet she adds, “I will say, though, that if you were with Jamie, I’d be very supportive. Jamie’s lovely, and would be lucky to have you.”

You hide another exasperated sigh and change the topic. When she’s had her fill of catching up, your mom says goodbye and you hang up.

You sit in the cafe, your mouth contorted in contemplation save for when you sip from your cup. You thought you were good at keeping your personal and online lives separate, but thanks to dubious algorithms and out-of-touch inquirers, your agency at work has been diminished and your sexuality is being questioned by people who’d be less than understanding. Even if you restrict who gets access to your information, what little slips through the cracks is still interpreted without context. Is that what the internet is now? For people to be data-mined so other people can make assumptions? Who wanted it that way?

Your phone sets off with another notification, informing you that a local indoor plant store has followed you online. They specialize in succulents.

You almost laugh out loud at the insanity of it. Of course; this hunt for data is mostly the hunt for ad revenue. While it’s a marvel how fervently someone on the other side of the screen wants to believe they understand you, advertisers are the ones who set the system up. And even they can’t seem to get it right!

The fever of frustration breaks, giving way to a fever of defiance. Why leave room to be misinterpreted? You decide to live your online life unabashedly and unafraid to share all. Will someone be tracking your moves? You don’t care, but if they are you hope they can keep up.

You grab your phone and browse with fury and determination. You share news articles and let your political leanings lay bare as you never had before. You hit “publish” on every dumb joke and inane thought you had previously hid shamefully as drafts. You post all of the pictures in your phone, and when you’re done with those you take a couple more. You follow musicians, actors, and influencers alike, so that no one would have to guess what your tastes are. You join in as many forum conversations as you can, and only stop when a person you’re arguing with, who has an anime-girl profile picture, threatens to dox you. You log off.

When you finally get home you’re bleary eyed from unblinking browsing and shaky from the excess of caffeine. You want nothing more than to decompress. As you turn on your TV to search for something to stream and zone out to, you call out to your virtual assistant device and say, “Play something soothing.”

Though your command was vague, as the speakers turn on they start playing exactly what you only now realize you had in mind. You love this band, even if you hadn’t thought of them in a while. Your phone goes off with a notification that this band has a concert coming up soon. As if on instinct triggered by serendipity, you click the notification to buy tickets.

While browsing various streaming services on your TV you come across several documentaries that you’ve heard confirm a lot of opinions you’ve had on the state of things. While you’d love to be proven correct, you’re more in the mood for something light. You wonder if they have this one funny movie that’s a reboot of a movie that’s based on a book. Before you can remember the title you see it listed. You hit play.

Ultimately, modern movie watching entails being on your phone, so you scroll through whatever new content was uploaded on your commute home. While you idly browse, you find another tailored ad, this time for a t-shirt boldly claiming that people born the same month as you are kind yet shouldn’t be messed with, each line in a different garish font.

“Ha,” you laugh to yourself, “what a stupid ad.” Even after all the data you gave them, advertisers are no better than your manager or your aunts, thinking they know you and what’s best for you.

Suddenly the page you’re on refreshes. What loads first is the ad, this time for a different shirt that’s admittedly more your style. The tagline reads, “Your life, your look.” Unsettled by the coincidence and feeling like you’ve found yourself in a conversation with your phone you didn’t know you were having, you try to click on a different link. More content loads just at that moment, though, shifting the layout of the page and leading you to click on the ad instead. Surprised, you fumble with your phone to close what’s popped up, but as your panicked fingers slip your phone decides you mean to go through with the order. You adjust your hold on your phone but somehow manage to set off a biometric scan that confirms the purchase.

As if queued by your consumerist momentum, an ad interrupts the movie you’re watching (since when did this streaming service have ads?). The volume seems to increase on its own as the TV blares at you.

“You don’t necessarily feel you age, so why look your age? Our skin cream can miraculously take 5 years off your face, letting your inner youth shine through.” The ad shows a model before and after using the cream. It makes a specific point of telling you the model’s age, which is your age.

You search frantically for the remote to turn the volume down. No matter what angle you point the remote at it, the TV refuses to recognize your button pushing. You get up and simply turn off the TV manually. This gives your virtual assistant device space to chime in with a separate ad.

“Tired of the long commute to your workplace? Find more free time while moving into one of the fastest growing neighbourhoods that’s perfect for you.” The voice emanating from your speakers describes listings in a building that you recognize is half a block away from your office. You run to unplug the device.

One by one more “smart” appliances in your home, devices that you now question their need for internet connectivity, begin to play or display ads that were made to appeal to you exactly.

“Our energy efficient windows fit your green lifestyle!” your thermostat boasts, citing a climate change article you just read.

“Let us deliver the groceries you need for the recipes you love!” your fridge demands, listing off your actual favourite recipes.

“Bzzt!” vibrates your electric toothbrush, calling you to look at its charger’s digital screen and see an ad for a dental clinic, featuring a close up of a mouth you’re weirdly certain is actually yours.

As your apartment comes alive with the sounds of aggressive advertising, you’re terrified. You step out onto the balcony. You think to yourself, and only to yourself, that you need to get away.

A delivery drone floats up from under your balcony and stops right at your eye level. It’s been outfitted with a display monitor. It plays a video.

“Looking for a vacation?” it asks. “Why not fly out to Pasadena, California? You can visit the Cactus & Succulent Society of America’s annual show and sale!”

#creative writing #prose #short story #technology #social media

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youresog0lden · 4 years

Text

Last Thing I Do II Spencer Reid

Summary: SSA Davis has found her sister shot in front of her by her sisters stalker. When her best friend is left pick up the pieces just like she did for him.

Warning: Cursing, Drug Mentions, Guns, Shooting, Blood. Very sad, Angst

This story is very similar to Maeve’s story. I completely made up the scene where they try and catch the unsub.

WC: 2.4k

I used a real name because it was easier to write feel free to change the name !!

masterlist

I DO NOT OWN THE GIFS I USED !

"SSA Davis," I spoke confidently on the phone.

"Yes I understand." I say. I walk out of my office and into the meeting room.

"No time to get comfortable. This is huge." Garcia said turning on her remote.

"Three Murders in the past two nights."

"A mom and son and a younger man?" Reid questioned.

"Yes."

"Okay they need us in Atlanta Georgia. Wheels up in 30." I sigh.

"Are we ever going to get a break." JJ sighs. I shake my head no before going to my office. I sit in there for a second my head spinning a little bit. I hear a soft knock at my door.

"Yeah." I say. Spencer steps in.

"Hey what's up." I say

"Can I ask you a question?" he asks.

"You just did." I laugh. He rolls his eyes.

"No but for real what do you need?" I ask

"There was three different drugs found in the bodies. A drug for each person. What do you think that could me?" he asks.

"They're probably a sadist. Who somehow has a connection to drugs." I say.

"I get that but how would all of them get the types of drugs into them without a prescription. Besides LSD." he said

"I don't know but we'll figure it out." I say softly rubbing a hand on his arm. He nods.

"Let's go." I say we both grab our to-go bag's and head out onto the plane. We sit down on the plane only having to be on there for an maybe twenty minutes all of us decide to just sit quite and do our own thing. Ever since Hotch left to spend more time being a dad and I was put in charge I've always felt different. I don't like being in this high authority but I promised Hotch I would keep this team on track. Ring. I look down at the contact. Amber is calling,

"Hey I'm on the plane I'll text you later. Love ya." I send the text and turn off my phone. We land all of us heading to the cars. Driving down to the police station. I walk in there.

"Hello, I'm SSA Davis, These are agents Rossi, Morgan, Jareau, Prentiss, and Dr. Reid." all of them shake hands with the Sheriff except Spence. He just nods shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Okay. We have all the files Garcia asked for on a table and a conference room set up. If you need anything don't be afraid to ask." we all nod.

"Okay JJ, Morgan ya'll go to the the house of where the last murder took place. Prentiss and Rossi, ya'll talk to the witnesses and families. Reid and I will go down and get the autopsy report's and examine the body." I say we all split up. I give Spencer the keys as we drive. I feel a vibration from my pocket. I pull my phone out to see my sister calling again. I hit decline deciding to call her tonight. We pull up at the morgue. I look at my notebook making sure I have a pen to take notes.

"Who still takes notes." Reid teases.

"Not all of us have an eidetic memory." I ruffle his hair. He let's out a huff before laughing.

"SSA Davis?" the autopsy technicians asks.

"Yes."

"Okay well in the mom there we severe levels of a date rape drug called Rohypnol in her body."

"Rohypnol also knows as Forget-me pill, R2, and Roofies is a pill some versions of it turns blue when added to liquid but other forms have no color when added to liquid." Spencer states.

"So she was roofied. Did she have an alcohol in her system? Maybe she got it at a bar and the unsub followed her home."

"No there we're nothing but water and rohypnol found in her body."

"Any food?"

"No."

"What about the-" I was cut off by my ringer going off. I shut it off again.

"Sorry about that. What about the boy?"

"He was a teen there we're high levels of Phencyclidine found in his system."

"It creates numbness of the legs and arm areas so he can't move."

"Yes, we think this was a really well though out plan to this because there was no way that this could've just happened randomly." I nod.

"What about the other one. We we're told high levels of LSD were found. So was he drugged when he died or was he coming off the high?" Spencer asked.

"We looked but couldn't really tell. But we made an educated guess and are saying that it was already in his system maybe to get him where they wanted him."

"They?"

"There's no way that only one person could do this. It had to be a team." she says. I nod.

"Thank you for you're time. If you have any more evidence please give us a call." I give her my card and she nods. We walk out and sit in the car.

"So they we're drugged before they could get away. Kept there for a day or two given water but no food and then brutally murdered. They are definitely a sadist." Reid says I nod.

"Let's go Morgan says the father of the kids are there."

"Father as singular."

"Yes apparently he is the father of both kids. Different moms." I say. He nods speeding off. We make it to the precinct. Spence and I walk into the interrogation room.

"John Hunter." I shake his hand.

"Why am I in here I didn't do anything." he pleaded.

"We needed you to be somewhere where there were not many people." he nods.

"Do you know who these three people are?" Reid asked.

"Yes that's my wife and sons." okay.

"Who are these two people." I ask.

"That's my ex-wife and son."

"Why isn't you're son with you in these photos. But you're youngest with you're first wife is."

"He was mentally ill. They had to take him away when me and my first wife Rose got a divorce he tired to kill his brother. Drowning him in a bathtub. He was sick." I nod.

"Can you give me his name." I ask

"Jack Hunter." he says. I nod and walk out. Dialing Garcia.

"Goddess of Everything Computer Related how may I help you."

"Hey can you do a background search on Jack Hunter and when he was released form a mental hospital. "

"Yes ma'am." she says,

"Okay so he was released from St. Claire's Mental Instantiation two weeks before the first murder."

"What about his mom?"

"Rose Strut she was given... you'll never guess."

"What."

"Phencyclidine"

"God I love you Garcia." I hang up seeing four missed call from my sister in the past twenty minutes. Reid walks out.

"It's time to give the profile." I said.

----

"We are looking for Jack Hunter and Rose Strut. They we're last seen two miles south of the Savannah River." I said.

"They could possibly be armed so if you are to see them do not go up to them. They will not be afraid to kill at this point." Emily said.

"If you do see them at any point. Please call the police and get away fast." Morgan finished. I hear my ringer again.

"Hey Garcia what's up."

"You'll never guess who's phone just pinged at a cell phone tower five minutes away,"

"Send the address." I circle my fingers telling everyone to load up.

---

Jack and Rose we're now being put into life in prison without the possibility of parole. We we're all getting off the plane when my phone goes off.

"Ash. "

"Hey Amber . What's up."

"She's back help-" before she said anything else I heard screaming.

"AMBER" I yell into my phone.

"AMBER." I yell again. Everyone looking at me. They put the stairs down. I grab my bag running down.

"Davis." I hear my team yell. I race to my car unlocking it. I start the car as fast as I can driving away. I'd be at Amber's house in a matter of minutes but realizing I wasn’t going fast enough I turn on my lights speeding down the high way. I finally pull onto her street. I stop at her drive way running up my gun sitting in my hand. I try opening the door but its locked, I kicked in the door. Looking all around before sighing. I heard a muffled scream come from the front yard so I run out the door as quick as I can seeing her. Holding a gun to Amber’s head. I must have forgotten my head set was on because I could hear the team yelling for me through it.

"Don't you come any closer or I will kill her."

"Please you don't have to do this." I begged.

"You killed my mom. I think it's only fair." she laughs. I take a step forward.

"Stop fucking moving." she yelled. I held my hand up my gun still in my hands.

"Drop your gun." she said. I drop my gun. She looks at me again and laughs,

"See I'm going to kill her either way but now you're just defenseless." she laughs. It was almost to fast to happen. A ring came into my ear's and I see her drop to the ground.

"AMBER." I called out

Blood spilling out of her head. I don't know if something kicked in my I grab my gun out of my leg canister and pull the trigger.

"Oh hun. I'm not that easy to kill." she picks up her gun. Before shooting one last shot hitting me in my arm. I hissed in pain.

"I will kill you if it's the last thing I do. Weather I actually kill you are watch you fall apart mentally I will watch you suffer." she laughs falling to the ground. I see the lights flooding around us. I drop to my knees crying.

"Amber." I say softly. I put her limp body in my lap. I stroke the hair out of her face kissing her forehead. I see my team moving out of there cars. Kiera being taken away into cuffs. At this point all I'm doing is crying. I feel someones arms around me as they pick up my sister. I try to fight back but its inevitably not worth it. I'm covered in her blood. I turn around to see Spencer's arms around me. I almost fall in them crying.

"Come on. We need to get you're arm looked at." We walk to the ambulance. I sit on the edge having them tear into my shirt cleaning up the barley scraped skin. I start staring into the space. Until. I grab Spencer's arm looking into his eyes.

"She has a kid. Where's Blake." I said softly.

"We'll find him. Right now you have to go to the hospital. I'll come with you okay." he says just as softly.

"Okay."

----

They say it's always the hardest after. But what's hardest was telling my mom that it could've been me not her or that she would still be alive if I didn't move. Her funerals today. But a part of me can't go. This is my fault. I can almost hear my parents saying it to me but, none the less I still go. They found Blake and Tom her husband. They we're on out at a movie. Amber had to stay home for work. They don't blame me. They tried to tell me that I couldn't stop it even if I tried. Blake isn't old enough to understand what it means yet but he'll get there one day.

---

The funeral is over. I'm sitting in my tiny apartment surrounded by my feelings. My team couldn't be here. They were needed somewhere else. Even though Spence did offer to stay with me.

~ Flashback ~

"Spence." I called out.

"Spence I'm not leaving so please let me in." I say. I hear the door's locks come undone. He opens the door. He's standing there in a t-shirt, a cardigan, and a pair of pants, his hair was a mess, his eyes were puff, and he had bags under his eyes.

"Spence." I pull him into a hug. He wraps his arms around me crying into my shoulder.

"I couldn't do anything about it." he cries harder.

"Pretty boy, listen. It's not your fault. As much as I hate to say it. Diane already knew what she was going to do. Baby you couldn't stop that." I said softly. He just cry's.

"Can I come in?" he nods. I grab his hand he shuts and locks the door. I walk to his bed and lay down opening my arms. He cuddles into them laying his head on my chest.

"Go to sleep kid. I'll be right here when ever you need me." I look at him. I kiss his forehead before putting my hand in his hair.

"I'll always be here for you." I said softly. His grip around my waist got tighter.

~ End of Flashback ~

I stood there a picture of us hung on the wall.

"I'm sorry." I said softly.

"Ash." I hear Spencer's voice call out. It startled me so i let out a yelp.

"Ash let me in please." I couldn't move. I hear keys jiggle and I see the door nob turn. Fuck why'd I have to give him a key.

"Ash." he says softly looking at me. He looked at me head to toe. I was wearing a pair of sweatpants and some how his 'Caletech' shirt. He sets his stuff on my counter and looks at me. I walk over to him standing in front of him. I let a tear drip down my cheek. He wraps his arms around me. I start sobbing in his chest.

"Why are you here..." I ask looking into his eyes. He placed a kiss on my forehead. His hands on both sides of my face.

"Because you we're here day after day when Maeve was killed so I will be here day by day until you are okay. because I love you. I love you more than anything." he says softly. I look into his eyes they were glistening with hope

"You love me?" I ask.

"Of course I do. I've loved you since day you offered to help me through everything you stuck by my side through everything, all my stupid little lectures, my rants, and facts. You're one of a kind." he said. I look up at him one more time. I lean forward into his lips. Melting together like butter.

"I love you too." he smiles and kisses me again.

"Let's go lay down." he says I nod.

“Everything will be okay” he whispers in your ear

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #spencer #spencer reid smut #mgg fic #matthew gray gubler #mgg fanfiction #mgg #mgg smut #derek morgan #garcia #emily prentiss #jenifer jareau #david rossi

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noobsomeexagerjunk · 4 years

Text

Left Undone

Ted didn’t want to babysit Bill’s daughter. He didn’t like Bill, and Bill didn’t like him. Why did he have to be the only one in the office who was free for the weekend? Alice didn’t exactly want to be babysat either. She’s too old for that!

Little did Ted and Alice know how much fun they were going to have.

(AU wherein Alice has not dated Deb yet, Bill hasn’t divorced yet either; MASSIVE SPOILERS for BoJack Horseman Season 3 and Moulin Rouge! are discussed)

Friday Prologue | Saturday Chapter | Sunday Chapter | Monday Epilogue

Alice woke up fairly well-rested Saturday morning, forgetting for a second that she wasn’t in her own house.

Ted Spankoffski’s house had 3 bedrooms. One was a master bedroom where Ted slept and also did any other non-CCRP related work. Another was a room where Ted’s nerdy brother stayed for the Summer; ever since Ted got himself a house, his younger brother would stay over at his place during holidays and academic breaks.

Then there was the spare guest bedroom Alice was in where Ted had to set up for her the previous evening. It was very plain.

She went downstairs, explored a little, then found no one. She went back up, knocking on Ted’s bedroom door. No response.

Alice then decided to wash up instead, to feel fresh in the morning. She did all the work in the downstairs bathroom (Ted specifically told her to use that particular bathroom), leaving it as neat as it was before she came to the house.

She tried to knock on the door again, the increased strength of her rapping revealing to her that the room had not been locked, or closed properly for that matter.

She peeked in to find Ted who was still asleep, clutching a laptop like a stuffed toy. His shirt, boxers, and socks tied together with his slumped figure, which also seemed intertwined with the bedsheets. There were used tissues all over the bed, some on the floor making a trail to a semi-used paper towel roll. There were an empty bowl and two empty beer bottles on the bedside table. It reeked of Corona and clearly imported Honey Butter Chips.

Alice stepped in to try to wake Ted up, but the floor creaking below her was enough to make him jolt awake.

“Who the fu-“ Ted calmed down from the shock of waking up so suddenly, “A-Alice?! Shit, I forgot you’re here,”

“I-Is there anything I can eat?”

Ted rose from his position, sitting upward on his bed, “...are you allergic to eggs? Milk?”

“No, I’m not allergic to either.”

“Good,” Ted yawned, getting up and stretching, “because my fridge is fucking empty.”

“I noticed.”

That was hyperbole...sort of. The only breakfast that could be made from Ted’s pantry was egg toast and cereal. There was enough for both of them to finish all of said egg toast and cereal.

“What were you watching last night?” Alice asked Ted, playing with her fruit loops a little.

“Hm?” He swallowed the last bite of his toast with instant coffee.

“You were crying for about thirty minutes; I couldn't sleep-”

“I-It was a sad episode, alright?!” Ted was slightly embarrassed, hesitating to take another sip of coffee, “That fucking baby seahorse will never know...”

Alice raised a brow, unaware of the reference. She ate some more cereal.

“Don’t give me that look, Alice!” That was Bill’s glare, alright, “BoJack Horseman is a very good show!”

“And you binged the whole thing last night?”

“It’s the new season. I’ve got two episodes left before I finish.” Ted then proceeded to chug down what was left of his coffee.

“My laptop died during my binge but it was late and I was just,” He blew a raspberry, “...I needed to sleep.”

“I’ve done that before, not gonna lie,” Alice place down the spoon, done with her breakfast, “Though, the show I watched was kinda...yeah, it was kinda shitty,”

“Let me guess: you’ve watched it because someone hot’s in it,”

Alice blushed, “I-It’s not just that!”

“Hey hey hey,” Ted chuckled, “I’m guilty of that, I ain’t judging.”

Alice hmphed, “Should I watch that—what’s that show?”

“BoJack Horseman?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm,” Ted then began cleaning up by taking Alice’s utensils, stacking them with his, “it starts weak but gets so much better, like real fucking better. Dunno if you’re old enough to watch it though,”

“I’ve seen some pretty adult stuff! Mom makes me watch Tarantino movies with her, at least whenever Dad's not around sometimes,"

Ted nodded at Alice’s mother’s taste in film, “Aight, but that show just...it just hits somewhere really hard when you’re in your early thirties full of regret and with no discernible life direction but, hey! If you can take it, I’d be impressed.”

Alice blinked, “What? Is it like, psychological horror? The kind rooted in some comedically timed socio-political commentary?”

“Well, arguably.” Ted then got up to bring the dishes in his hands into the kitchen.

“...where can I find it?” She asked with mild interest.

“Netflix,” The sound of dishes landing in a sink was heard from Alice’s seat, “It’s a cartoon too, and like, about a bunch of animals, if those kinds of things float your boat.”

Alice never made it past Episode 1 when she tried to watch it herself, convinced Ted’s taste was shit. Personally, she will regret that.

The rest of that morning left Alice and Ted to their own individual devices. Alice typed away some interesting plots and ideas on her phone. Ted went to finish the last episodes of that sad horse show.

An hour before the time Alice would usually eat lunch, she had been cycling around various plotlines for a potential...well, something. Alice knew she just had to write something.

She was in the living area of the house when she heard Ted sloppily walk down the stairs. His eyes were teary.

"Are you alright, Mr. Spankoffski?" She looked at him with concern.

Ted shakily neared her, hesitating to sit on the couch next to her. He instead placed a languid hand on one of the couch's armrests.

"Please don't die on me, Alice, oh my God..."

He broke into sobs. Alice could only stare at this behavior in confusion.

"Did something bad happen in the show, or...?"

"Fuck, it got worse!" He sniffled, "A-And not, like, n-not in a bad writing context--that show's writing is the shit, Alice! But fuck! F-Fuck!"

Sarah Lynn was not supposed to die, but she did die and the fact left Ted devastated. A part of him knew it was gonna happen as he saw the old man, er, horse, and the poor girl in the motel, missing the Oscars. (Then again, that show had a penchant for hollowing, tragic endings per episode.)

Even in entertainment, in his favorite shows to watch, Ted Spankoffski knew better than to hope. It was more realistic for him.

"You can sit down," Alice moved aside to give Ted space to sit.

Ted cried as he sat next to her, "God, I'm sorry y-you had to see me like this,"

"I've...I-I've had worse breakdowns over a show. I-It's all good."

TV and Movie homophobia still haunted the teenage girl.

It's things like that, whether extravagant or subtle in delivery, that prompted her to write and clarify in any way that she could if only to fight. Alice Woodward was the kind of girl who refused to despair.

"Yeah, A-Alice?"

"Mhm," She nodded, quickly writing "character gets sucked into a tv show???" in her phone's Notes app.

"What if we watched something less depressing instead? You can watch it with me, Alice!" Ted breathed, "You're not bored, are you?"

She added "literally? figuratively? ehhh let the watchers decide??? kshfukdhivg" then kept her phone.

"No! N-No, I know how to keep myself, um, b-busy," Alice then shifted herself into a more comfortable position, "What movies do you have?"

Ted paused before answering, realizing he was hungry.

“You pick,” He said, getting up, “You want pizza with that?”

Alice nodded eagerly, watching Ted head for his phone.

“Wait, what am I supposed to pick?”

“There’s a bunch of CD cases in the drawer under the center table—it’s right in front of you!” Ted's voice decrescendoed as he headed upstairs.

“Drawer?” Alice wondered to herself, bending down to inspect the described center table. There was in fact a drawer.

She pulled it open to find bunches of CD cases, charging wires, and what clearly seemed to be unusable gadgets or “e-junk” as her father would, in a terribly corny way, put it.

Alice noticed a notable amount of movie musicals in one bundle of CD cases. The one that got her attention was Moulin Rouge!, unfamiliar with the title and very taken by the red-haired beauty printed on the cover. There was Jesus Christ Superstar, West Side Story, Rocky Horror Picture Show, and a bunch of Disney Princess movies. Upon further inspection of the non-musical movies, Ted had a diverse taste in film, though it was primarily pretty basic in Alice's opinion, minus a few exceptions.

She closed the drawer, further inspecting the Moulin Rouge CD cover by reading the synopsis on the back. An aspiring writer falls in love with a courtesan but other things get in the way? Alice could not blame the writer, in fact, she was quick to identify with him, even if she had not seen the movie yet.

“Alice?” Ted called from upstairs, “Are you allergic to anything I should know?”

“No,” She called back, playing with the CD cover.

“Good! I’m getting us a Bacon Surprise,”

“Alright,” Apparently Ted chose to order from that Witchwood Ovens Shop downtown.

“What movie do you wanna watch?” Ted asked as he went back down. Alice showed him the CD cover.

“Moulin Rouge?” He mispronounced, “I actually have that in there?”

Alice handed the cover to Ted as he approached her, “I don’t think I’ve seen this one,”

“No shit, Alice. This movie’s got prostitution; if I know your Dad enough,” He stared at the cover, trying to remember when he got it, "he would make sure you'd never see it. God, I remember seeing this in the theater, like, when I was about your—h-how old are you again?"

"Fifteen, but I'll be sixteen later this year,"

"Eh, close enough," Ted then placed the CD cover down, ready to set up the television set in the living room.

"Nicole Kidman, man..." Ted dusted the CD player, plugging the TV into it, "She was the fucking best in that thing."

"Do you even know what happens in it?" Alice asked as she watched Ted at work, "Or were you just hoping Nicole Kidman would step on you?"

"Don't you fucking shame me, Alice!" Ted gasped back as he blushed, "If you had any taste in women, you'd want the same Goddamn thing."

Ted guessed correctly, keeping the girl from returning his snark.

It was around the Elephant Love Medley when the pizza arrived. Ted was kind enough to pause for Alice as he went to get the pizza. Alice was still recovering from the exhilaration of the past few songs, overwhelmed with the crowd-like effect of the cheesy-Jukebox mashups that introduced Christian to that infamous dancehall, the gratuitous use of slow-mo effects, and the ridiculous use of that Can-Can. It was "Spectacular Spectacular" indeed!

Alice almost choked on her pizza during the Like A Virgin scene. It was also very clear to her, as they watched, that Ted must've forgotten a lot of what had happened in the film given some of his reactions. Ted cursed The Duke repeatedly, particularly at that scene when he found out about the true nature of Christian's play.

Ted believed that he should've seen Satine dying coming. He saw this movie before. The movie literally said so right at the start!

Why, as he watched, did he want that happy ending when the opposite was inevitably going to happen?!

Something about Satine charmed Ted, in a particularly nightmarish way. The idea of further thinking about it was repressed repeatedly, refusing to confront the roots of it all. Surely it was just him being a horny bastard, right? Right?

This totally had nothing to do with the fact that Satine had vibrant red hair, cerulean eyes, polished milky skin, and a beautiful figure.

This totally had nothing to do with how familiar this fictional character seemed to be, resembling someone Ted remembered with intense, bittersweet longing.

This totally had nothing to do with the sight of Satine breathing her last breath on a bed of roses reminding Ted of a memory that he swore hadn't happened yet.

Or it did happen?

Why debate when it happened when it shouldn't have happened at all? It wasn't supposed to happen, whatever that thing was that Ted didn't need to remember at the moment. And yet...

She didn't make a sound. Heartbreak was never so loud.

Alice's sniffling brought Ted back to reality. Ted put a hand on her shoulder.

"God, I-I look so stupid," Alice chuckled out from her tears, rubbing her teary eyes, "they literally say it in the beginning, ugh!"

Ted coddled her closer to him so he could hug her but Alice recoiled back.

"T-Thanks, but we both smell like pizza," Ted nodded back in response.

As he cleaned up the living area, he asked Alice, "How was the movie?"

"It was pretty cheesy," She pulled out her phone again, inspired to write, "but kinda fun? Like, you don't get fun movies with this much energy, at least, when I try to compare, well. You know what I mean."

"Yeah," Ted replied absent-mindedly, "It certainly brings back memories of, well, certain times."

"I think it kinda comes off as an epic-like piece,"

"No need to wax academic, Alice,"

"You asked for it!"

"I asked about how it was, not for an essay about its themes and shit!" Ted straightened himself up with a chuckle, "It's just a movie, after all."

"It hits different though," She spat back, focused now on her phone.

Witchwood Oven Shop pizzas were notably heavier on the stomach compared to their competitors. Any leftover pizza the two had for lunch that day, Ted proceeded to reheat for dinner. He scavenged his refrigerator for any packs of instant lemonade, which were thankfully there, and prepared two glasses for the two of them.

It was a shitty excuse for dinner, but Alice didn't seem to mind. She was very concentrated on her phone.

"What'cha writing about?"

Alice tilted her phone as to hide it, "It's not really much yet. It's all a bunch of prompts so far."

"You can pitch me stuff," He swallowed a bite, "Which ones really get to you?"

"Well," She hesitated.

"Well?"

"I-I've got a traveling adventure in a fancy, cultured but mysterious new town..."

"Anything else?"

"Still deciding whether I should make it a horror or a comedy. Besides that, it's all gonna rest on a foundation of romance between our main character, and, well..."

"Who?"

"I don't know! It's all I got so far!"

"Hey, it's not bad," Ted sipped his lemonade, "You know, I bet with enough time, it can become something really fucking great. I'd be invested if this was a movie or a staged production of sorts, I don't know,"

"Y-You think it's good, Mr. Spankoffski?"

"Oh hell yeah," He placed the glass down, "Not to be cheesy, but romance really gets me."

"Yeah, same."

"Have you considered making it some sort of horror-comedy romance? I would love it if you could pull it off."

#eternal reverie #left undone #kim whalen would make such a great satine #starkid #team starkid #starkid fanfic #starkid au #nightmare time spoilers #ted spankoffski #alice woodward

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twokinkybeans · 4 years

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Stark On Ice 6: Epilogue [Starker]

Read here on AO3!

Chapter 6: Epilogue

Peter sighs as he laces up his skates and pulls the zipper of the Midtown Ice Arena-themed vest a little higher. He already hears the loud, happy noise coming from the locker rooms. It’s not like he didn’t teach any classes during Celebrity Spin-Off, but it’s good to have more time for his students again. “Mr. Parker, hi!” Peter turns around to see a young girl emerging from the locker room with a big, broad smile on her face. “You have to check out my double axel. I finally mastered the landing!” She’s beaming with happiness, and it warms Peter’s heart to see her enthusiasm. Before the TV show, she’d been nearly there- just… Just the final details had needed some work. “Don’t show me before you finish a proper warm-up though, go skate five laps first and do the regular routine. Can’t wait to see it!” His encouraging words reach her, and with a big smile, she sets foot on the ice to prepare herself for today’s class. Slowly, more and more students drop in, and before he knows it, the ice is rather filled. The next hour simply flies by.

Tony stares at the man presenting the current progress of the new project. Tony isn’t sure he even heard a word the man said. He never quite realized just how much he despises working as the CEO of Stark Industries. It’s tiring, having to make stupid business deals all the time. It’s not like the results are any good. He never really cared, but… Oh well. Ever since he started to care for Peter, he’s begun to care for other things in his life too. A slight smile plays on his lips when he remembers Happy’s face when he gave the man a raise that doubled his salary. He earned it, and Tony is done with being a greedy billionaire. He wants to do something else. His fingers itch to throw everything he has overboard and make a run for it. He doesn’t know what he’ll be heading for, though. He has no plan. No idea. He’s never done something else, so how is he supposed to know?

“Mr. Stark, I would-” “Wait,” Tony sighs and shakes his head. “Look, boy, it isn’t you. I bet your presentation is wonderful and that the progress is going according to plan- few bumps here and there, yada yada. I, however, won’t be in charge of this deal.” The surprised echo going through the room is everything. Tony eyes the man’s name sign and grins. “Michael, you’ve been working hard on this project. You know the revenue streams better than I do. If you want, I’ll leave you in charge to execute any decision related to this project.” The boy in front of the other people has a hard time to keep from crying. His eyes teary- filled with the recognition he’s been wanting so much. “T-Thank you, Mr. Stark, I don’t know what I did, but I would very happily accept the offer.” he stammers. Tony smirks. “It’s yours, fella.”

Michael takes a deep breath before he continues his presentation. Nervous but bold when he tells the clients what his plans are. Tony nods to himself. That was the right call. He made someone very happy here, and he doesn’t have to bother with it. He realizes he finally starts to trust people again. His employees. His friends, too. All because of Peter Parker with his ever-be-damned innocent puppy eyes. He wishes he could see Peter again soon. The boy is immensely busy with teaching and catching up with his YouTube channel and own training. Even though Celebrity Spin-Off may have eliminated them for the race - leaving Clint and MJ to win - the bookings for Dancing On Ice have been off the charts. Everyone wants to get a glimpse of Peter Parker with their own eyes. Tony wishes he could spend more time with his boyfriend, but he’s immensely proud of how the boy is doing. He’s famous, famous for being himself and the thought alone has Tony feel proud.

They haven’t seen each other in three weeks now. But Tony intends to surprise him tonight. Happy happily volunteered to be their chauffeur, and the restaurant had been more than excited to rearrange some tables to squeeze them in. Ned and MJ are a part of the secret plan, too, making sure Peter has the night off from something else.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you something for a long time now.” “Oh?” “Why aren’t you pursuing the Olympics? I may not be a professional, but I know enough about figure skating now to see you have the potential.” Tony’s voice is gentler than usual. Peter presses his lips together and casts his gaze down. The man knows he’s treading on thin ice and it has Peter feeling understood and more at ease simultaneously. He knows he doesn’t owe anyone an explanation. A simple “I don’t feel like it” would suffice. Peter wants Tony to know, though. He’s his boyfriend, for fuck’s sake.

“My parents… They were rather famous pair skaters—multiple Olympic gold medals. My mom, she… The stress of having to upkeep her physique, athletic capabilities, relationship, and me-” Peter pauses for a short second, taking a deep breath. “It drove her to a massive panic attack during a show and she fell. Broke her ankle. Couldn’t skate again on the same level. It drove her insane. She got behind the wheel, drunkenly so, and crashed herself and my father into a tree in Ohio.” Peter’s voice wavers, and he shakes his head slightly. “I don’t… I don’t want to end up like them. I want to enjoy the sports. She grew to hate it. I couldn’t… I need this in my life. I can’t bear the thought of losing it. I’m good here. Shows, teaching. It’s still professional, and yet at the end of the day, I can still have a game night with Ned and stuff my face with a way too big pizza.”

Tony nods. Unsure what to say. Peter gives him a faint smile. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s been fifteen years now. Although it’s something I carry with me, it’s not… It’s not something that I’m allowing to dictate my life. Honestly, I’m having a grand old time, Tones.” “I’m so sorry, though,” Tony whispers and opens his arms. Peter hums appreciatively and crawls into his lap- straddling the thickened thighs. All these months of harsh training show on Tony. “I wish they were still here to see what an amazing young man you’ve become.”

Peter scoffs, but his gaze betrays his pride. “Thanks,” he whispers and kisses Tony’s forehead. “Now, what about your parents? They left a mark on you too, didn’t they?” Tony shrugs. “My dad’s a prick. My mom never knew how to deal with that. They died before I could properly build a bond with her.” “How’d they die?” “Suspicious car accident. It’s never been confirmed exactly what or who did it.” “I’m sorry…” “Nah, honestly, as much as I miss the idea of them- I don’t miss them. They were never there for me when I needed them. I wish I could’ve had loving parents, but hey, at least they left me with a multi-billion-dollar company.” “I always forget how rich you are.” “Wanna be spoiled?” “Ugh, no. We’re good like this.” “Good.”

The both of them fall silent for a good minute after that. That is until Peter cocks his head and innocently brings his drink to his lips. “So-” he starts “-MJ and I have a plan for a new video for our channel.” Tony knows by the tone of the boy’s voice that it is something that Tony won’t necessarily like all that much. Or maybe he will. It’s about him, that’s for sure. “Oh?” He simply says. Peter chuckles. “Well, we figured it’d be fun to star you as a guest? People will love to see more of us skating together, and the fact that you’re Tony Stark only makes it better.” “What about MJ?”

Peter’s smirk widens, and he grabs his phone that had been facedown onto the edge of the table. Tony groans. “Oh God, you got it all planned out, didn’t ya?” “Of course I did. Who do you think I am? MJ is in charge of all our social media and editing, but I? I make the scripts. Skating is much more than just a simple dance, eh? It’s a choreo. A story.” “Sure thing.” Peter scoffs and shakes his head as he scrolls through his phone, probably to find the right document or whatever it is he wants to show his boyfriend. “Thought I taught you more these past months,” he jokes. Tony chuckles. “I’m still very much a rookie, Pete. Your world of figure skating, I- haven’t figured it out yet.” “Oh God, that’s the worst pun ever.” “Shush, I’m having an ice day.” Peter snorts and shoves his phone forward. “Maybe my choreo will shut your mouth.”

Tony can’t help biting down his lower lip as he spills his last joke. “Axel-lent.” Peter sends him a death glare after that, but the playful sparkle in his eyes betrays that he loves the convo. He nods at his phone, and Tony takes the hint. Dropping more jokes would be overkill now. (Yes, he knows more puns, and he won’t ever admit to Peter that he stayed up until 3 am a few nights ago to Google them). He squints his eyes at the screen, cursing under his breath as his fingers slide down the screen to lower the brightness. As much as he doesn’t think he’s that old yet, his eyesight doesn’t agree. Peter, if he even noticed, doesn’t comment on it.

“I- Is this Romeo and Juliet?” “Well-” “MJ IS PARIS?” “Isn’t it romantic!” “Romeo and Juliet never came off as romantic to me, to be frank. Those teens had an unhealthy obsession and-” “Tony, I love Prokofiev’s music. You’re gonna have to bear with it. Be glad I didn’t cast you as Juliet.” “Did you steal this from that Netflix show? I know Justin’s a hottie, but-” Peter blushes a bright red, and Tony grins. “Does that mean you agree?” “Yes. Of course, I agree. But no, this choreo is very different. They were pair skating for the competition, and we’ll be making a little play. On ice. Plus, it’s not even the same song.” “Alright, alright. Agreed on Prokofiev.” “Good.”

Tony smiles as Peter continues to explain the rest of the choreo to him. The costumes he has in mind. Tony doesn’t like admitting things to himself- especially not when they’re good feelings. But he has to confess he likes this. Peter. Skating. Even acting, in a way. It unlocks a part of him that he’s never quite experienced before. Obviously, his job allows for minimal creativity, but it’s nothing, absolutely nothing, like this.

A little over 11 months ago, the broadcasters asked Tony to participate in Celebrity Spin-Off; an annual TV series where celebrities get paired up with a professional figure skater and compete against each other. Well, he’d laughed in their faces, wondering why they’d even ask. Were they really that stupid? He had better things to do. “If you can find me a male skater who lets me lead, I’m in,” he’d scoffed sarcastically to brush them off.

He’s still not sure why they took his answer seriously, but they had. Tony Stark doesn’t back out of a promise, though. So, here he is, lacing up his skates to record a YouTube video with his sweet, enthusiastic, now 22-year-old boyfriend and his bestie; dressed in a silver-lined tight suit to play Romeo out of all possible characters.

He’s never felt more alive.

(Especially not at 7 AM)

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heartslogos · 4 years

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newfragile yellows [872]

"I will love your sister until I die and turn to dust and air,” Bull says to Mahanon gaze steady as the two maintain eye contact.

“I know this about you,” Mahanon concedes with a minute dip of his head.

“She’s probably a sociopath or something,” Bull continues, holding up the copy of her will that she’d given them to read over. “There’s no one who puts conditions like this in their will. No one. Like. Realistically speaking, I’m gonna go before she does. In the unlikely and most likely incredibly shitty event that doesn’t happen and I’m in charge of making sure this thing is followed through on — what the fuck?”

“Yeah,” Mahanon agrees lamely, looking at the copy his sister gave him and flipping it over so he doesn’t have to read it. “Agreed.”

“That’s a big ask for me, who’s probably feeling like literal shit at that point, to have to basically organize this weird gauntlet of tasks. What makes her think that anyone’s going to follow through on it?”

“The family lawyers are very, very good at what they do,” Mahanon says. “Trust me. I was written in as a beneficiary for one of my grandparent’s sibling’s wills and it took me three months to even qualify to get my inheritance. I had to camp on a mountain for two weeks with no phone and nothing that was invented within the past sixty years.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Absolutely not, my plane ticket to the location was half the cost of what I got,” Mahanon says. “But the point is that I did it. Are you going to step down from a dead person’s last wish slash dare? No. You’d lose face.”

Bull squints at him. “Your entire family is…tilted on a certain axis the rest of us weren’t aware existed.”

“The rest of you just set the bar too low and dropped your imagination when you hit yourselves on it,” Mahanon replies. “Though I’ll admit. The conditions on Ellana’s are…inspired.”

Mahanon lifts a corner of the page, peeking at it again before letting the paper flutter down flat once more.

“I’ve got to outdo hers on mine,” he says. He’s got to start brain storming now.

“You two have to tone it down to something reasonable,” Bull says. “I don’t think I’m asking for much when I say that. Someone’s got to organize this when you two are dead and if that someone is me for both times I’m going to be fucking pissed. Let’s really hope that I go first because I don’t want to deal with it. Or maybe I’ll be senile and…incapacitated and I won’t be able to. Who’s the second choice?”

“For me? Lyna, one of our distant cousins. Not sure how she’s related to us anymore, but I trust her. For Ellana? She said Malika because Malika is…well. It’s Malika. She’d do it and she’d stick to the spirit of the thing and make it entertaining.”

Bull groans. “That’s why Malika’s section in here didn’t have any weird bullshit on it.” He sighs as he sets the folder of instructions down. “Do you guys even have enough property to be splitting up like this?”

“Of course,” Mahanon says, “Besides, it’s only going to grow as we age. We’ve got other wills to inherit and such. It’s a very large extended family.”

“I wish I could say I was shocked or disappointed,” Mom says, shaking her head as she walks into the living room from the kitchen and starts to pace in a meandering path. Dad sticks his head into the room after her, looking confused before she waves him off. Dad frowns, retreating back into the kitchen to continue dinner preparation. But not before he shoots Ellana and Mahanon a meaningful look that can only be translated as “tell me everything later”.

“But really. It’s Theron Mahariel, so it is what it is.” Mom sighs as she stands in front of the window, hand on her hip as she peers up at the night sky before turning around to continue her pacing.

Ellana pauses in the middle of showing Bull the family scrapbook to exchange a look with Mahanon who’s been playing tug of war with the dog.

“So the eavesdropping started young, did it?” Bull teases as Ellana abandons the scrapbook to watch her mother. Mahanon continues playing with the dog, but he’s turned his phone’s recording app on and has tossed it to Bull. Bull balances it on the back of the couch, tucking the scrapbook into the gap between the couch cushion and arm. Their mother pats Bull on the shoulder affectionally and playfully pushes on Ellana’s forehead as she walks behind them.

Then she walks out of the room. Bull can hear her voice trailing and growing fainter and more muffled as she walks up the stairs and into, he can only assume, is her room.

Mahanon gets up, walks to the front door, and tosses the rope toy right out of it. The dog goes shooting out as Mahanon closes the door on him.

“I’m following Mom,” he announces. “I want to know what kind of bullshit Theron is up to now.”

“Agreed,” Ellana says, grabbing Mahanon’s phone as she clambers over the back of the sofa. “Bull, stay here with Dad. Get the background info from him and see if the two of you can puzzle out the context. You’re in charge of the exposition. Mahanon and I will get the rest of the hero’s journey from there.”

“You’ve gone from four point story model to a full hero’s journey cycle based on what?” Bull asks.

“It’s Theron,” Ellana kisses the top of Bull’s head. “Babe, if it’s Theron it can’t be described as simple beginning, middle, climax, end. It’s going to be the whole cycle.”

“I’m sure that’s what people are saying about you two also,” Bull says, standing up to go join their dad in the kitchen.

“And that’s how you know you’ve made it in life,” Mahanon says. “Now get in there and get the details.”

#heartsfic #gather your party and venture forth

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sweetness47 · 5 years

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The Shaman’s Choice Ch. 3

Pairing Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader

Characters of the series include: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Jo, reader’s parents, Reader’s grandmother, Reader’s brothers (Darren OC & Michael OC), Mary, Jack, Apocalypse Archangel!Michael

Chapter 3:

@spnkinkbingo square filled (Cock warming)

@spnabobingo square filled (Rose/lemon/pine)

@samwinchesterbingo square filled (huddle for warmth)

Word Count: 1904

Summary: So this is an SPN fic, but contains a lot of wild AU ideas. Bear with me while the story unfolds, and enjoy it.

Warnings for all chapters just in case: MATURE 18+ READERS ONLY! smut, sex, unprotected sex, abo dynamics, knotting, mating bites, claiming, oral, shower sex, sibling arguments, swearing, violence, mentions of brother in love with sister (unhealthy obsession, jealousy)

“You marked me?” Sam mused as they lay there.

YN blushed and lowered her lashes. “I…forgive me Alpha, I meant no disrespect. I just felt like I needed to. I can’t explain it, Sam. And besides, no every Omega out there will know you’re mine.”

Sam chuckled. “Minx.”

“Yeah I am. But I’m your minx. Only yours.” She breathed.

“Damn right, Omega. You Are Mine!”

They mated once more before nodding off, Sam’s knot still buried deep in his Omega. He never realized till now what he’d been missing, and now he never wanted it to end. He hoped one day to earn her full trust, then she might finally tell him what was bothering her. True they had only just met, but he knew she was keeping something from him. YN hadn’t directly implied anything was wrong, but he could see it, he could feel it emanating from her. The only thing he was 100% certain of was the issues weren’t related to his lovemaking, if her responses were any indication.

Morning came and sunlight peeked through the curtains and onto the bed. YN woke first, smiling as she felt Sam’s cock still inside, and it was hard. She made the mistake of trying to slip out of bed without waking him. It didn’t work.

He nuzzled the back of her neck. “Morning.”

She leaned back into his strong embrace. “Morning.”

Sam thrust into her. “Going somewhere, Omega?”

YN shrugged. “I was going to surprise you with breakfast Sam. We haven’t eaten much since yesterday.”

Sam licked her earlobe as he thrust his cock into her again. “Food sounds great, but…” he pumped again, “we have something more pressing to take care of first.”

She giggled. “I gotta ask, why were you inside me all night? Not that I’m complaining or anything. Just mildly curious.”

His pelvis rocked forward, pounding his erection in and out of her 3 more times, and was rewarded with YN’s climax coating his cock with her juices. “Because I happen to like being inside you. And I get the added bonus of keeping warm while I sleep.” He laughed as he finished the last sentence, amused even further when YN joined in.

“Hmmm.” She mused. “If you continue that, I may have to start charging you rent.”

Sam nipped at her neck in response. “I see. Tell me, Omega, what would I be paying?”

She smirked. “Evening sex, morning sex, shower sex, oral, fingering, mating. All with me and no one else.”

The bed shook as he roared with amusement. “That’s a pretty hefty fee. But,” he ground into her again, “I think it can work.”

With that he pushed her onto her stomach, then pulled her hips up to meet his. His pace was brutal, intense, and YN’s body shuddered as numerous orgasms hit her all at once. Every thrust hit her sweet spot. Then his knot began to swell, and he screamed her name as his load filled her belly once more. The couple then gently went back to their original spoon position to give the knot time to shrink.

When they were finally able to move, YN excused herself and threw on some sweats and a tee. There was cum soaking into the pants, but they needed washing anyways. In 30 minutes, Sam was sitting down to eggs, bacon, hash browns, and coffee. YN made tea for herself before sitting beside her Alpha. The room was silent for the entire meal as Sam shoveled food in fast, as though it were his last meal. YN found herself famished as well, both had worked up quite the appetite in the last 12 hours.

Once they were full, Sam helped clean up the dishes, then both made their way to the shower. The couple spent a copious amount of time ‘cleaning up’, but eventually finished dressing, then made their way to the living room. There they began to make a list of things they needed to do for her transition from apartment to bunker.

About halfway through the list, a knock sounded at the door. Sam looked up. “Don’t worry, it’s just Dean, and he brought Jo.”

YN went to unlock the door, and was greeted by a beautiful blonde woman, with a gigantic hug. “Oh, I’m so happy for you both! Hi, I’m Jo.” She held her hand out after releasing YN from the hug.

YN immediately decided she liked Jo. “Nice to meet you. I’m YN.”

Another hug and an excited squeal hit before she bounded over to Sam for his congratulations hug. YN watched the family interact, after a hug from Dean, hoping her family would be this accepting.

The cell in YN’s pocket vibrated, and she groaned when she saw the call ID.

“Hi mom.” She said, holding the phone away as shouts and questions came all at once. It was on speaker, with both her parents, and her brothers.

“What’s this I hear about you and some Alpha?” her father started. “Where is he? We’re coming over there right now!”

“Wait…” Too late, the line went dead. YN silently cursed cell phones and turned to her new family. “Well, my parents are on their way over.”

“Fun.” This from Dean. “Want Jo and I to vacate?”

YN shook her head. “No, god no! if there are others present, then they will be more civil. Jo, would you like to help me do some baking? Dean, can you and Sam start packing my stuff please?”

The two alphas nodded, and headed toward the bedroom, while Jo and YN went to the kitchen and soon the apartment was filled with the aroma of chocolate chip cookies. True to their word, YN’s parents were pounding on their daughter’s door in no time. YN invited them in and offered refreshments. Introductions were made once everyone had taken a seat.

“Mom, Dad, this is Sam Winchester, my Maritus. This,” she gestured toward Dean and Jo, “is Sam’s older brother Dean, and his Omega, Jo.”

Then she reversed. “Sam, Dean, Jo, these are my parents, Mr. & Mrs. (Parents’ names).”

Surprisingly, her mom and dad greeted Sam warmly, then did the same with Dean and Jo. It was (Mom’s name) that noticed the surprised expression on YN’s face.

“We aren’t mad, YN, if that’s what you thought. We were just a bit shocked that the news came from Michael, and not from you. From the description of the events your brother relayed, I expected to meet a monster, not this nice young man beside you.”

YN gently squeezed Sam’s hand, noting that he had relaxed upon hearing the compliment. (Father’s name) spoke up next, addressing the Alpha in question directly.

“Sam, is it? You seem like a fine strong Alpha, but before I give you my blessing, I need to ask you a question. Your answer will determine if your feelings for my daughter are true, and how far you would go to ensure her well-being. Think carefully before you answer.”

Sam nodded. “Ask away.”

The room went quiet. “How much do you love YN?”

Sam blinked. “Sir, never in my life have I felt this kind of love. YN brings out the best side of me, and for the first time, my life feels complete. I would give my life to protect her.”

(Father’s name) stood and motioned for Sam to do the same. The remaining 4 people in the room held their breath in anticipation. The two Alphas stared at each other for what seemed like ages, then YN’s dad smiled, and reached into his pocket for the family crest ring. “Welcome to the family Sam. While we still expect an actual wedding, this ring will signify to all that I approve of this union.”

Sam’s smile lit up the room as he hugged his new father-in-law, followed by his new mother-in-law. YN leapt into Sam’s arms, kissing her Alpha with gusto.

Sam spoke to YN’s dad when things had settled. “Thank you, sir, and I meant every single word I said earlier.”

“I know you did son, otherwise I wouldn’t have approved.”

Dean pulled (father’s name) aside quietly as the rest went to sample the cookies and iced tea that YN and Jo had whipped up. Soon all six were talking and learning more about each other. Three hours and too many cookies later, YN’s parents bid farewell, leaving the others to pack up her things. The ordered pizza and, by 1:00am, everything was ready to go.

Dean and Jo stayed the night, using the fold out bed YN had, while the newly mated couple went to the bedroom. The whole apartment sounded much like an orgy party, as echoes of pants, moans climactic screams, grunts, and ball slapping filled the living area. In the early morning, two satisfied Alphas and two satisfied Omegas were sitting to a rather scrumptious meal of flapjacks, hash brown patties, sausages and scrambled eggs. Two pots of coffee later, the boxes were ready for transport, the two couples were exhausted, and the loading truck arrived with Cas, Jack, and Mary. The three newcomers all greeted YN with warmth and immediately took a shine to the young Omega. They packed the truck and YN was on her way to her new home.

The first week took some getting used to, but her new family were very accommodating, so the adjustment was fairly easy. Sam and YN spent near all of the first two days mating, as their heat/rut were still strong. YN was pretty sure that was the whole soulmate thing, but she still needed to research that more. Soulmates were rare, even more rare than the Signum Flaminis being given to, or appearing to an Omega.

It was three weeks to the day when the first signs appeared. YN woke feeling off, then made a beeline for the nearest toilet. Once she had voided her stomach contents into the porcelain bowl, she mentally scanned her body for a cause. She had never been sick in her life. She found double surprises when she discovered she was carrying pups, two of them. Holy shit! Her eyes widened with the realization. Scrambling off the floor and down the hall, she ran straight to her Alpha, nearly spilling his coffee.

“YN? What…?”

He never got a chance to finish. “Sam, we’re pregnant!”

The entire bunker was echoing as Sam let out a loud “Whoop!!” and kissed his Omega. Well wishes came from all, but none more thrilled than the expectant parents. YN put in a call to her own parents, not giving details, but asking if she and Sam could come by for a visit. (Mom & Dad) were happy to hear from their daughter, and even more thrilled to have them visit.

#spnkinkbingo #spnabobingo #samwinchesterbingo

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rainythefox · 5 years

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Nightfall (Ch.9)

Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU/Canon Divergence. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling upon dark secrets. She can’t call the law; Wesker is the law, and she can’t tell Chris. She is trapped…Claire/Wesker & Slight Chris/Jill. Rated M for eventual smut, language, violence, adult content.

AO3 Link

Chapter 9: The Goddaughter

Claire couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. The new, two-story brick home in the fancy neighborhood was just as quiet and expensive as the other homes on the block on this chilly morning, only Claire knew the evil inside this one. She was just here the other day, breaking in to try and find something to expose Wesker, and ended up nearly being ripped to shreds by his guard dog instead. She wasn’t here to break in this time. Oddly enough, as Claire stepped up to the front door and rang the doorbell, she felt she would’ve preferred dealing with the attacking Doberman over the corrupt STARS Captain.

She heard Odin bark once, but it was faint and sounded like it had happened on the upper floor. Still, she flinched from the awful memories of snapping jaws inches from her face.

William had stopped by yesterday evening, relaying a message from Wesker to meet him at his house after Chris was at work. Claire let her brother take his truck because Jill was off of work today and just gave the excuse that she would most likely stay home. When in reality, she was about to go see what his boss wanted with her.

William wasn’t able to give her anymore information when he gave her the message and left. And that created a whole new problem. Chris had spotted William leaving.

Claire could tell her brother was starting to grow suspicious. Between her behavior and seeing William, Chris was beginning to realize something was amiss. He had good instincts; it was what made him a good cop. She had to figure out a way to keep him far off the trail, or they would both be dead - courteous of her brother’s double-dealing supervisor.

Ignoring the nippy wind, wondering if Ada had found out anything yet, the door opened, making her heart rate spike considerably. Here goes nothing...

She glared at Wesker when he greeted her with his usual sneer, magnified by his lack of shades, his icy-grey eyes, bewitching and dangerous, a stopping force all on their own. “Ms. Redfield, nice of you to drop by on this lovely morning."

“It's not by choice,” she grumbled and pushed by him when he gestured for her to come inside. “What do you want?”

She looked around the foyer and living room, tense from having her back to him as he shut the door. He didn’t answer right away, but she nearly leapt out of her skin when his hands brushed up her back, his voice purring in her ear.

“From you, dear heart? Where to even begin?”

He took her jacket off of her and hung it up. Still reeling from his words, Claire was stiff as a board as he wrapped his strong arm around her lower back and escorted her further inside. Some kind of charged electricity sparked under her skin from the contact. She finally got a grip on herself, ignoring her stomach as it flipped in a way she would rather not admit. The younger Redfield sibling moved away from him and went over to the den area, facing him and keeping her back to a couch.

“William gave me a message to meet you here after Chris was gone. He didn’t say why.”

“That’s because I never told him why.”

Wesker wore more formal, black clothes like she saw him wearing in NEST the other day. She hated that she found him even more attractive in such attire. The college student kept herself from gawking, instead she folded her arms and gave him a dirty look. “Well?”

He instantly reacted to her animosity with a dark smirk, as though her fire sparked something within him. Claire was starting to get the feeling that Wesker enjoyed her temper and defiance, as if he got some sort of sick gratification from it. It aggravated her even more, but at the same time she knew she couldn’t let him goad her. It’s what he wanted.

And though Claire had kept her eyes from wandering over Wesker’s chic outfit and toned body, he didn’t even try and hide his roaming eyes. “You look quite lovely today, Claire.”

Again with her first name. There was that light, fluttering sensation in her chest again. Claire hadn’t realized it at first, but she had backed up right into the sofa when Wesker took a couple of steps in her direction. Stop messing with me, you asshole!

Claire opened her mouth, about to give him a slew of colorful, unladylike words, when the Doberman trotted down the stairs into the den, tags jingling on his chain collar. Odin gave her one short look before his snout upturned towards the stairs, alert, his docked tail wagging before he sat on his haunches.

Something else came down the stairs a bit slower, emerging into the den with soft steps. The Redfield girl gasped, not at all expecting a child. The little girl spotted Claire staring and dashed the rest of the way to Wesker, using him as cover.

The girl peeked from behind him, gripping his shirt tight. She had to be around nine or ten years old, her blonde hair in a messy bun, loose strands hanging around her cute face. Her blue eyes were curious but shy. She wore jeans and a light blue shirt and white vest. She didn’t have shoes on, only socks, and there was a golden pendant necklace around her neck.

Claire’s inner motherly instincts kicked right in. The girl was precious and Claire had no clue why she was in a place like this, hiding behind a man like Albert Wesker as though he was her guardian.

She slightly bent over, smiling, and gently waved. “Hello there.”

Her soft greeting delighted the bashful girl and she came out a little further, although still kept halfway behind Wesker, gripping his clothes like a lifeline. “Hi!”

Claire glared at Wesker. “Kidnapping children now?”

“Charming,” he mocked. “She’s my goddaughter. Sherry, where are your manners?”

The name instantly clicked, and Claire remembered. So this is William and Annette’s daughter? She’s adorable!

“Oh, right…” the little girl mumbled. She smiled at Claire again. “I’m Sherry. Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Claire gave her a big, friendly smile in return. “I’m Claire. It’s nice to meet you too, Sherry.”

Sherry blushed, slightly retreating behind Wesker. “I like your name!” She looked up at the tall, silent man she was using as a shield. “She’s really pretty, Uncle Albert!”

Wesker’s eyes were locked onto Claire, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. “She is, isn’t she?”

Claire shivered but quickly focused back on the girl. There was a strange, hushed excitement to Sherry that she couldn’t quite understand. It was as if she was shy, but, at the same time, was really intrigued by Claire. The younger Redfield felt a peculiar, warming connection right away with the child…as though their fates were somehow connected.

“Are you Uncle Albert’s girlfriend?”

Claire’s mind blew a gasket, horrified at the girl’s implication. “W-what?! No!”

She was about to unleash onto this little girl what kind of a monster she was hiding behind, but then quickly bit her tongue. Sherry was a child. There was no way she could even begin to understand. She looked at her godparent as though she idolized him. Wesker seemed to have everyone fooled. Everyone thought he was a good man, until, of course, they stumbled upon him in the woods blowing a man’s head off.

Claire sighed, took a deep breath, and faked a smile. “No, sweetie. It’s not like that.” She gave Wesker a hard look. “And it’s never going to happen.”

Wesker smirked, his eyes entrapping her, as though he knew something she didn’t. Claire forced herself to look away, feeling awfully jittery for a moment.

“Oh…I was hoping you would become my aunt and we could play.”

Claire’s forced smile derailed. She wasn’t sure what to think about that. Wesker’s goddaughter peeked halfway out from behind him, curious yet insecure. Claire had a feeling the little girl didn’t have many friends and didn’t get much attention from her family, if her parents and Wesker were anything to go by.

Claire stooped to Sherry’s level, smiling. “We don’t need to be related to play. How about being friends instead?” She extended her hand.

Sherry came out a tad bit further, eyeing Claire and her offered hand. She glanced up at her guardian, unsure. Finally, Wesker stepped out of the way. The girl froze, watching him, as if afraid her wall was gone to leave her out in the open unprotected. Wesker patted her head and gently pushed her closer to Claire.

“Go ahead. She doesn’t bite, Sherry.”

As if that was the only reassurance she needed, the young girl reached out and took Claire’s hand, beaming. They shook hands. Their moment was soon ruined by the phone as it started ringing on the stand on one of the end tables. Sherry’s smile disappeared and soon became disheartened, gazing up at Wesker. The STARS Captain checked his watch with a scowl and moved towards the phone. As he passed by the girls, he petted Sherry’s hair.

“What’s wrong?” Claire asked, watching as Wesker answered the phone.

Sherry sighed. “Daddy. He’s running late again. Or got held up and can’t come get me. I thought you were him when I heard the doorbell, even though he usually just walks in.”

Claire frowned. “Well, what about your mom?”

“She’s busy all the time, too. Like Daddy. They work at Umbrella and are making a new medicine to help people…but they work all the time and I don’t get to spend much time with them.”

At this point, Claire wasn’t even sure if William and Annette were working on any kind of medicine at all, let alone anything that could help people. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

Wesker’s goddaughter shrugged with a weak smile. “It’s okay. Uncle Albert helps take care of me when he isn’t busy. He comes and gets me from school when my parents forget. He sometimes helps them make new medicine too, but mostly he just keeps me, Daddy, and Mommy safe and protects the city.”

You poor, naive little girl…if only you knew…

Then Sherry’s words clicked and she looked at the Birkins’ daughter. “Wait, Wesker makes medicine, too?”

Sherry nodded. “Yeah. He’s really, really smart! Him and Daddy are two of the best doctors working for Umbrella…as Daddy likes to brag.”

Claire logged it away. It was definitely something she could use in digging up dirt on Wesker. There was more than his corruption as an officer of the law. He was also in the same shady business as William and Annette, whatever Umbrella had to do with it. She wondered exactly how many jobs he had…

“He really likes you.”

Claire shook from her thoughts and stared at Sherry’s cute, curious face. “I could tell when he let you in. You look cute together!” The girl suddenly gasped, cupping her cheeks. “Your babies would be so adorable! I could be like a big sister to them! And we could play together!”

The college student almost fell over backwards from the shock of Sherry jubilating at the idea of her having any sort of physical relationship with her “uncle”, let alone having offspring together. Her stomach jerked queasily. Despite her disgust, Claire had to give Sherry props for being so easily excited. She must’ve gotten it from her equally whimsical father.

Ah, to be that innocent again. Claire weakly smiled, trying to avoid that subject with the girl. She had come to the conclusion that Wesker liking anyone was a) highly unlikely and b) not a good thing in general, even if the Birkins told her otherwise.

She decided to see what else Sherry could inform her about Wesker. “So uh, what else does he do? Besides make medicine and protect the city?”

Claire had to keep herself from rolling her eyes at such a ridiculous notion. The only thing Albert Wesker protected was himself and his own interests, no matter how many innocent people got in the way.

Sherry pursed her lips in thought. “Hmm...he does a lot of things. He does some kind of pest control, I think? Daddy said he got rid of a big rat a few days ago. Mommy says that Uncle Albert is a workaholic like they are. But I don’t know...seems like I see him more than them sometimes.”

Human pest control, sweetie. You poor thing...doesn’t sound like your parents deserve any Parent of the Year awards!

She’d like to give William and Annette a piece of her mind the next time she saw them. Sherry was so sweet and well-mannered for someone half-raised by self-absorbed parents and half-raised by a manipulative psychopath.

Odin trotted over, nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He licked Sherry’s face, making her giggle. She hugged the Doberman. “This is Odin. He’s Uncle Albert’s dog and I love him. We’re best friends!”

“Yeah...we’re well acquainted. Aren't we, boy?” Claire replied, reminded of how the dog almost tore her throat out. Sherry would never know it, but her backpack had saved Claire’s life the other day.

Odin snorted in response, but showed no signs of aggression, sitting next to Sherry and yawning.

They heard the phone click on the receiver. Sherry looked to Wesker expectantly as he returned to them. Claire remained kneeled in front of the girl, tensing as the corrupt STARS Captain came up behind her.

“Your mother is on her way, Sherry. You should go upstairs and get your things.”

Sherry frowned. “But Daddy promised he would take me this time.”

Wesker sighed. “I know he did, darling. Go on, now.”

“Yes, sir.” Sherry gave one last dispirited smile to Claire and left back upstairs. Odin followed right behind her.

Claire stood, watching the girl depart before turning to Wesker. There was a strange look in his eyes as they followed Sherry up the stairs, but Claire couldn’t read Wesker like William could, and so she was lost on what it could be.

He finally looked at her, lips quirking. “Precious, isn’t she?”

“You seriously don’t seem the type to like kids.”

“I don’t,” Wesker admitted. “But Sherry is the exception.”

Claire snorted. “Exception or not, you shouldn’t have kids let alone be a godparent to someone else’s. Not sure what William was thinking.”

Wesker softly chuckled. “I have no intentions...although,” he looked her over again with a dark, suggestive leer. “With the right partner, perhaps I would change my mind.”

It was a deliberate jab to provoke her. Claire glared at him, ignoring her heart that flailed madly in her rib cage after her stomach did a low pitch and rolled. The younger Redfield refused to take the bait, biting her tongue. She didn’t trust how her body reacted to his words at all.

“Whatever. Sherry’s way too sweet to be in the Birkins’ care or yours. She deserves better.”

“She does deserve better.”

Claire was surprised by his words, his eyes lingering on the staircase for a moment before he turned and slightly glared at her. “But life never goes how we expect it to, does it, dear heart?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

She wished her life had just stayed the same, instead of getting caught in this spider web of conspiracy, deception, and blackmail.

Wesker took her necklace into his fingers, rubbing his thumb along the silver feather pendant and turquoise stone. His eyes found hers, and he squeezed the pendant shut in his hand, tugging her towards him using the small chain. So close, Claire's hands braced his solid chest to give her a small buffer.

“And that is why I make sure I hold all the cards and have complete control over my fate. I am no longer the ruled, I am the ruler.” Wesker dipped to whisper in her ear. “And you, dear heart, will help me get even more power.”

His lips grazed her temple as he pulled back, still clenching the necklace and keeping her close. The chill that came over her was more thrilling than she wanted to admit, and according to Wesker’s dark smirk he had sensed it too. Dammit, what the hell is wrong with me?

The doorbell chimed. Claire’s heart nearly burst, relieved in the interruption because she was convinced something was about to happen.

Sherry bounded down the stairs with a bag, the Doberman still tailing her. She paused at the bottom step, noticing Wesker and Claire’s close proximity.

“Did you get everything, darling?” Wesker asked, eyes not leaving Claire’s.

Claire was confused until she heard the soft voice and spotted Sherry coming back into the den. “Yes, Uncle Albert.”

“Good. Get your shoes on.”

Wesker stepped away from Claire, his fingers brushing her collarbone when he let her necklace go. He went to the door and answered it. Annette entered the house, looking mostly the same from when Claire saw her last, except maybe more tired. The older woman paused when she noticed Claire, surprised, but she contained it and shot a suspicious glare to Wesker’s back.

Sherry pulled on her boots after retrieving them from the foyer. She grinned at her mother. “Hi Mommy!”

Annette, distracted, looked between Wesker and Claire, and that made the college student even more uncomfortable. She then presented her daughter with a listless smile.

“Did you behave for Albert?”

“Yes, I did.”

Annette motioned to Claire with the same smile, though with added wariness. “Claire...It’s, uhh, good to see you again.”

In other words she was surprised Claire was still alive. Claire didn’t blame her, although that didn’t make the situation any less awkward. “You too, Annette. You’re daughter is very sweet.”

“Oh, right. Yes...she is.” Annette turned to her daughter just as she cinched the last strap on her boots. “Come along, Sherry. We need to go.”

Sherry got up and shouldered her bag. “All set!”

Annette looked relieved. “Good. Albert, thank you. William will stop by later, assuming he still isn’t at the estate in that ridiculous meeting. Claire...take care. Sherry, let’s go.”

The little girl frowned, glancing between her mother’s retreating back and Wesker and Claire. She sighed, trudging along behind Annette but soon paused and looked back at them.

“Bye, Uncle Albert. Bye, Claire. It was nice meeting you. I hope I get to see you again.”

That hit Claire right in the feels, and she felt torn over it. She wanted away from Wesker, the Birkins, and whatever they were a part of. She wanted her life back to normal, meaning no Sherry. But on the other hand, there was something about the young girl that Claire was drawn to. She wanted to see Sherry again also.

Claire smiled. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again real soon. Take care, Sherry.”

The girl was ecstatic at that, looking the happiest Claire had seen her yet. Annette hollered at her from the door.

“She’s a keeper, Uncle Albert!” Sherry added cheekily before joining her mother.

Claire flushed, paralyzed. Sherry giggled and hugged Odin before leaving with Annette. Once that front door shut, trapping her alone with Albert Wesker, he turned to her with a conceited and, dare she infer, sensual smirk. Her nerves turned to ice, although she suddenly felt feverish.

“I agree, Sherry. She is a keeper.”

Chris, Forest, Brad, Joseph, and Enrico walked back to the STARS office. Chris yawned. It was still early in the morning, but their day had commenced in chaos, having had two different emergencies to deal with. A freeway accident with a tipped over bus and an active shooter in southern Arklay County. None of them had even gotten their morning coffee in them yet.

“Good work, boys. Maybe we can finally take a breather,” Enrico said.

Brad rubbed his back. “Good. I need one.”

Joseph snickered. “What’s wrong, Chickenheart? Your ass still hurting where you busted it on the ice goin’ for cover?”

“Very funny, Joe.”

Forest wrapped his muscular arm around Brad’s neck and scrubbed his knuckles hard into his scalp. “Aw, we’re just fuckin’ with ya, Vickers. You did good!”

Try as he might, Brad couldn’t escape the taller, stronger Bravo member. Finally, Forest let go and dodged a swipe from Brad with a chuckle. The flustered Alpha pilot straightened his yellow vest with a glare to Forest and Joseph. Chris grabbed them both and banged their heads together.

“Knock it off, you dicks,” he said with a grin.

“Thanks, Redfield,” Enrico huffed and gave Frost and Speyer a mild glare. “You two knuckleheads have already given me a damn headache.”

They entered the STARS Office. Richard waved at them from his desk where he filled out a report on his computer.

“Aiken, anymore calls?” Enrico asked.

“No, sir. Been quiet.”

“Good.” Enrico pointed at Joseph. “Frost, go make some coffee and see if there’s anything left from the breakfast bar.”

Joseph groaned. “Why am I always the errand boy?”

“Because you get on my nerves and Wesker’s nerves, that’s why. Now go.”

“You couldn’t tell me while we were downstairs closer to the break room?”

“Nope.”

Joseph muttered under his breath and started to leave the office.

Forest hollered at him just as he sat down at his desk. “Make it extra strong, errand boy!”

Joseph flipped him off as he slipped out the door, earning him a chuckle from his Bravo friend. Brad took a seat next to Richard and Chris went to his own desk. He frowned at the empty desk beside him. Jill’s hat sat on her desk as well as a photo of her Golden Retriever, Bella. It was rare for them to have different days off, but this time of year always had Alpha and Bravo Team’s schedules mixed up.

Before he got busy and forgot again, he opened up the drawer to her desk and dropped a bag of her favorite candy inside. He closed it and signed into his computer. It was strangely quiet in the STARS office. Enrico had locked himself away in Wesker’s office and without Joseph around, the rest of them were quietly doing their work. It was strange to have Wesker, Barry, and Jill missing all in one shift. Kenneth and Edward wouldn’t be in until later.

Brad must’ve read Chris’s mind. “It feels like something’s missing…it’s too quiet.”

Forest snorted. “Course it is! We don’t have Chris and Jill yakking away behind us, no Barry laughing at his own jokes, and no Wesker scolding Frost or barking orders. Enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasts. Won’t be long before Marini gets on our asses again.”

Brad rolled his eyes. “As if you enjoy anything of the sort, Forest.”

“Chris does seem like a sad puppy without Jill around,” Richard noted.

The sharpshooter glared at them. “I’m working. What are you guys doing, exactly?”

He ignored their laughs and entered the license plate number that was on the BMW that he saw at his house yesterday. As the information pulled up, Joseph returned and announced that the coffee was brewing. Forest mumbled something about the STARS office needing to replace the coffee pot that Edward accidentally broke a couple weeks ago and left downstairs to go get some. If anyone left with Forest, Chris didn’t notice, too absorbed in the profile the license plate brought up.

Vehicle is a 1997 BMW M3…everything is up to date…Registered to William Birkin of Raccoon City, Colorado. Chris did a separate search for William Birkin in their database. Not much came up. Age 35. Married. Type O blood. Height: 5’10’’, Weight: 147lbs. Blond hair, blue eyes. Licensed under the Umbrella Corporation as a medical researcher. No records, no flags.

There was a picture on profile, looking to be a few years old, but it was definitely him. He didn’t look threatening, but something just didn’t sit right with Chris. He wondered how Claire could know this man. Surely she wasn’t seeing him romantically as he was married. Claire wasn’t like that. Maybe she didn’t know?

It might not even be like that…don’t jump to conclusions. Jill’s right…this could all be harmless. Maybe he’s just a friend.

Still…he did not like the feeling in his gut looking at the man’s seemingly innocent picture. It was hard to decide if it was his innate instincts as a cop or his overprotective devotion as a big brother. Unfortunately, Chris couldn’t do much else beside keep a closer eye on his sister and see if anything else came on his radar. Claire was still acting strange…hiding something. He was sure this man had something to do with it. Sighing, he closed the profile and got back to his other work. He remained distracted for the rest of the morning.

Before leaving for lunch, Chris had found Ralph Hendricks again and asked his neighbor and fellow brother-in-uniform to keep an eye out for anything else unusual at his house, especially if it involved that silver BMW and the man that drove it. Ralph, sensing Chris’s worry, assured him he would do what he could. That made the older Redfield feel better and drove home to enjoy some lunch with his sister.

He unlocked the door and went inside. Chris usually took his lunch with Jill, and so he was sure Claire would be surprised. The house was warm, but he didn’t see her when he came inside. The television wasn’t on, it was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Sis, you here?” When there came no answer, he hollered again with a frown. “Claire?”

He checked the house. She was gone. Trying to remain calm, Chris thought where she could have gone without the truck. He searched for a note but found none. He had to rationalize this. Maybe a friend came and picked her up...

Or maybe that guy in the BMW?

Chris paced, knowing he was overreacting. He couldn’t call his STARS teammates in to help him look for her once more, especially since last time it turned out she had been just fine. Barry was out of town with Robert, and Wesker would probably wring his neck if he called him on his day off again. He decided that calling Jill would be best. She would talk him down and help him to clear his head.

He picked up the phone with a heavy sigh. If only he could get rid of the terrible feeling in his gut. You have to quit doing this…Claire’s an adult. She’s out there living her life. And you cannot be there to protect her all the time. She knows how to take care of herself. She’s probably just out there having fun. Quit worrying!

Claire was not having fun. This was torture. The silence ate at her, the small, confined space that smelled of leather and his cologne was dizzying. Every nerve under her skin thrummed, from what she didn’t know. Demanding her to move, to escape, to fight. Or perhaps respond to a darker urge she refused to acknowledge, pushed to the farthest corner of her mind.

“You’re more restless than William, and that’s saying something.”

The college student fell out of her thoughts, not realizing she had been so fidgety in the passenger seat of Wesker’s car. His look was that of mild amusement, genuinely less snide than usual.

Claire glared at him. “Can you blame me? Stuck in a car with an evil asshole like you. What are we even doing here anyway?”

“Waiting...some of us more patiently than others.”

“For what?”

“You’ll see.”

He stared out the tinted windows, elbow resting on the side panel of his door with his chin propped on his knuckles. He had taken his sunglasses off again when they had parked here over half an hour ago, observing and waiting patiently. Apparently, this man had the patience of a saint - and Wesker having any saint-like qualities, wasn’t that the epitome of irony?

They were in southern Raccoon, on the east side of Circular River, south of Cider District where all of Raccoon City’s schools were. It was mostly warehouses and old apartment complexes around here. It wasn’t the poorest part of town, but Wesker’s XK8 was out of place in this area, and Claire had no idea what he was waiting for.

Claire had tried to behave, be good like Ada and the Birkins suggested, but her defiance soon got the better of her being stuck in that car with him, with nothing to do but go mad. So she deliberately fidgeted and made noise, anything she thought that would get under his skin.

After a bit, certain that her antics weren’t working, the STARS Captain soon glowered her way. “If you wish to irritate me, perhaps you should take pointers from Will. But let’s be honest here, Ms. Redfield, I know you are above such petty antics. If you have something to say, then say it.”

Claire didn’t break his intimidating gaze, glaring at him in return. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Feel better?”

“I will if I get the chance to kill you.”

Wesker’s smirk knotted her stomach again. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, dear heart.”

Smug prick…

Claire leaned back against her seat, folding her arms. “Why the hell am I even here? Surely, you can ruin someone else’s life without me?”

“I can. But why do that when I have pawns...and pleasant company...like you?” He smiled wryly at her glare. “Don’t worry yourself, my dear. No one will get hurt...today.”

“How can you be like this? My brother and the STARS look up to you, respect you! The city relies on you...Sherry adores you. How can you do this to them? Do you not feel anything?”

Wesker closed his eyes for a moment but remained impassive. “You’re wasting your time trying to understand me, Ms. Redfield.”

Claire wasn’t about to let him dissuade her that easily. She had a feeling her prying would get her in trouble, but damned if trouble wasn’t her middle name. “I have nothing better to do. So...hate the world? Trying to prove something? Issues? Emotional trauma? Revenge?”

She tried to read him for any kind of reaction, even if only minuscule. Though he was probably just a psychopath and nothing more, Claire had a feeling it was more than that. His relationship with the Birkins and apparent physical attraction to her proved that. It was something much deeper. The signs were there, what little the Birkins and Wesker himself had revealed to her.

I am no longer the ruled, I am the ruler. Wesker was obsessed with power and control. Something had to have made him that way.

Unfortunately, if the corrupt STARS Captain gave any reaction to her prying, she had missed it. If only she could read him like William could...

Wesker sighed, as if he heard this all before. “Since I know you are wondering it, I had a standard childhood.”

“Oh yeah? Parents? Siblings?”

He half-rolled his eyes. “My parents died long ago. I have a sister but we were raised separately.”

Now we're getting somewhere!

“That’s not a standard childhood,” Claire stated.

He looked at her and for half a second the college student swore she could see a little into this man’s darkened soul. “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

The nerve he hit was sharp and sudden, like a knife digging underneath her fingernail. She scowled, no longer able to keep his gaze. She should’ve known he would’ve turned it right back around on her.

“Car accident, correct?”

Claire flinched, certain he would ridicule her for her loss and heartache on the subject. “Yeah.”

Say it...I dare you! Just give me a reason to pound your face in...

“I’m sorry, dear heart.”

Claire’s head snapped to gape at him so fast, she nearly gave herself whiplash. Completely taken by shock, he didn’t present her with anything further on the words she would have never thought to ever hear come out of his mouth, let alone sincerely.

“Ah, right on time,” Wesker eventually said after a long bout of silence. “You see that man crossing the street ahead?”

Claire suppressed the turmoil of thoughts swirling in her head over their recent conversation and looked. She did see someone crossing the street; a younger man, tall and skinny, wearing mostly black, baggy clothes. He looked like a typical hoodlum, covered in tattoos, a cigarette lazily poking out from his lips.

“Yeah.”

“He will get inside that parked Ford Taurus. I need for you to join him.”

“What? I don’t even know the guy!”

Sure enough, the hoodlum got into the driver side of the parked car just up ahead.

Wesker looked to her, lips twitching in amusement. “He’s expecting you, dear heart. Just say ‘not the gravy’ and he will do the rest.”

Claire gawked at him. “Not...the gravy? Are you kidding me?”

Wesker sighed. “Do I wish I was. William’s code, not mine.”

“Oh…” she mumbled. She wasn’t really surprised since it was William. Still, she wasn’t fond of the idea of sitting in the car of a total stranger with no weapon on her. Granted, she was sure she could pummel the guy easily enough, but one couldn’t be too careful.

Wesker must have sensed her unease. “The sooner you do this, the sooner we can leave. Meaning one step closer to you going home. Trust me, Claire, as long as I have you, no one will touch a hair on your head.”

Unless it’s your Russian Colonel friend, right?

The Devil might as well have been telling her to trust him. Still, there was something about his tone that did make her feel a little safer...a little. The younger Redfield slowly opened the door to the black luxury car and stepped out.

Taking a deep breath, really wishing she could have her gun or knife on her, she walked down the slushy sidewalk. A lot of the snow had melted from the sun being out for a couple of days, but more snow - and cloudy gloominess - was inbound. The dropping temps tonight would for sure turn this slush into more ice.

Reaching the car, Claire slowly pulled the handle to the passenger door and slipped inside. The interior was ragged and smelled of cigarette smoke. The guy had been sitting patiently this whole time with his hands in his pockets. He looked at her, only mild surprise coming over him and he gave her a one-over. If Claire had to guess, this seemingly normal looking hoodlum was an informant of some kind.

Claire sighed. “Not the gravy.”

The guy nodded, eyes scanning around them for a moment before he reached inside his coat and pulled out a small white envelope. He offered it to her. Claire studied it for a couple of heartbeats and then grabbed it. When she tried to pull it away, he tightened his hold on it.

“They only stayin’ for another week. If he gonna hit ‘em, he better hit ‘em fast.”

Claire swallowed. “Got it.”

The informant let the envelope go. He reached up and turned the keys to his ignition. Claire was sure that was her signal to leave and got out of the car. She barely shut the door before the sedan pulled away from the curb, loud music blaring even through the rolled up windows. Claire watched him go for only a second before turning and going back to Wesker’s car.

Once she was back inside his much nicer vehicle, shutting the door to contain the warmth from the heater, she immediately presented him the envelope. The STARS Captain took it, their fingers brushing, and Claire wasn’t sure whether he deliberately did it or not. He had already placed his sunglasses back on.

“He said they are only staying for a week and if you are going to hit them, you better do it fast.”

Wesker smirked as he opened the envelope and pulled out a folded up piece of paper. He unfolded it and read through it while Claire remained quiet, waiting.

“Hmm, interesting,” he mused. “I may get to cut the head off of more than one snake.”

Claire had no idea what he was planning or who it involved, but she knew it meant people were going to get hurt or killed. Or exploited if Wesker had his way. These “snakes” had to be problems or threats to him somehow. Or perhaps obstacles to a bigger prize. Her stomach soured just thinking about what he could do to these people, innocent or not.

All she knew was that she was sitting right next to her snake. And it was constricting around her, each new coil making it harder to breath, pulling her closer, poised to strike with venomous fangs. Claire had heard plenty of rattlesnakes growing up. She didn’t hear a rattler, but she sure felt the same cold weight of dread plummet in her stomach hearing one often produced.

#resident evil #resident evil 2 #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil fanfic #clairexwesker #ChrisxJill #Claire Redfield #Chris Redfield #Albert Wesker #Jill Valentine #William Birkin #annette birkin #sherry birkin #fanfiction

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bluboothalassophile · 5 years

Text

Getting to Know More

Fun facts about Terry McGinnis:

He was a notorious middle child in a HUGE family: Dick, Jason, Athanasia, Cassandra, Tim, Duke, Damian, Alina, himself, Helena, Thomas, Bruce Jr., and Matt. His extended family included Dick’s wife, and Dick’s kids, Thomas, Mar’i, and Jake; Jason’s adopted daughter Lian Harper; Tim’s wife, Stephanie; and Duke’s wife; Claire Clover. His extended, extended family also had Uncle Luke’s and Aunt Babs’ kids; Carrie and Nell, Bette Kane, Grampa Lucius, and, well, at this point one got the picture; huge ass colony of Bats living in Gotham here.

He shredded it where skateboard, hockey, motocross were concerned, but he had the coordination of a spaz for baseball and surfing.

His mom was awesome on epic proportions. Seriously, he didn’t know how she did it but she redefined super mom.

Another thing to know, he totally did not have a crush on the Princess of Atlantis, he was only going with her to this movie because he happened to like it, and because Mareena was the only chick he knew who didn’t like chick flicks (Mar’i, Helena, Lian, and Max could all go Suck It! He was going to see a damn action flick if it fucking killed him this year!) Mareena just also happened to like action flicks, which was why she was here with him.

Standing there in the theatre line he tried not to stare at Mareena who was hiding her identity under a hoodie she had stolen from his room when she had walk up to the Manor with a movie for them to see. Mareena did not have friends in Atlantis who appreciated the arts of action flicks. Terry didn’t care though, he was no longer being that weirdo who was going to a theatre alone. Also, she was a chick Dana could not get jealous over and drive him insane. He would think college meant that the drama would die off with the age grow up, but apparently not. And he was not getting blue balls because Dana was having imaginary jealous fits over imaginary slights.

“Why can the line not move faster,” Mareena huffed.

“Because the line is moving this pace because people are slow. Besides, we’re ahead of the line for the premiere line,” he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder to show her. Mareena frowned.

“You people are annoying,” Mareena said icily.

“How are we annoying, you wanted to go to this movie, so I’m going with you to see this movie,” he said.

“I would’ve asked someone else, but,” she started.

“There’s no one but Don and Dawn, and we both know there’s no way in hell that Barry and Iris would let them come.”

“I could’ve gone to New Krypton,” Mareena argued.

“Oh yes, because watching their movies is so entertaining,” Terry rolled his eyes.

“You land dwellers have no appreciation for the fine arts of moving with a flow,” Mareena argued.

“Pipe down, and don’t draw attention of the paparazzi,” he snapped when her hood started falling off of her head, which had him pulling it more firmly over the green hair of hers. Only disadvantage of going to the movies with Mareena was the fact her hair glowed in the dark. But other than that, trade offs, made it worth it!

“You do realize they’d be more inclined to notice you and not me, right?”

“I’m wearing a Gotham Knights cap, and I am not royalty, I’m just one of a hundred Wayne kids,” Terry point out.

“I thought you were a Prince,” Mareena said.

“No, I’m a Wayne,” he said. “Not royalty.”

“You are also…” she held up her index fingers by her head and smiled a bit.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t count,” he shrugged. Dick had been Batman, Jason had briefly been to save Dick’s wedding, Cass currently was, Damian was next. It wasn’t anything special anymore, it wasn’t special in the family he belonged in. Though B was still the control freak behind the scenes for them so technically B was still the Bat.

“Why not?”

“Cause B’s the big man in charge.”

“Your dad is in a wheelchair,” Mareena pointed out.

“Partial paralyses is not a disability, it just means his legs have to take a break sometimes and Mom has to push him around, it’s not abnormal to what normally happens with him,” he shrugged.

“You guys have issues,” Mareena stated.

Terry merely shrugged. “Dad’s fine, we’re fine, it’s all fine!” he snorted.

“Last time you said that everything was on fire,” Mareena stated.

“Let me restate we’re fine. But mostly keep your hair away so I don’t have to explain to Dana why the hell I’m seen with another woman.” Terry stated.

“Ah, the nefarious Dana, why are you still dating that woman?” Mareena asked. “She was bratty when you were a teen, she’s worse now.”

“Not all of us get fairy tale romances,” Terry shrugged. “Besides, I like sex, sex is a great relief to the stress of everything.”

“You sound like a cad.”

“You should hear my sisters talk,” he shrugged. Mar’i, Helena, Max, and Lian were way worse than him about the sex talks, girls were all about feelings, and emotions and connections, it was annoying, and they always talked about it and guys! Terry probably knew more about women than the average guy and it was a disturbing amount information his sisters had given him. And just to clarify, he thought of Mar’i, Lian and Max as his sisters because he had known them since he was in diapers! It was hard to think of them as anything remotely close to something other than sisters.

“And you shouldn’t knock down romance,” Mareena stated. “Your family has the most epic love stories according to my father. Other than maybe Diana and Steve’s.”

“You’re nuts!” he sputtered.

“Am not, the story of B and Selina, Dick and Kori, Jason and Raven, Tim and Stephanie, B and Talia,” she stated. “Epic romances.”

“That’s just gross, and disturbing to think about my family’s love lives,” he grimaced.

“You guys are secret sweethearts I bet,” Mareena decided with a cheeky smile.

“We are the Knight! We are the Terror of Nightmares! We are NOT Sweethearts! Even Alina is even an epic of epic badasses,” he argued. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out to see the text was from his mom.

“What’s up?”

“After the movie we need to go get Matt, Carrie, Tommy and Nell from school. Babs and Luke had to go to Africa,” he said.

“Oh.”

“So we’ll get them, get a slice, and then I’ll drop you off, or are you tubing?” he asked.

“Why would I be tubing?”

“Cause it’s up or down with you,” he retorted.

“Can I stay? I haven’t hung around the surface too much, and I do not want to go to the Tower,” she said.

“Yeah. Julia will help us set up a room for you,” Terry said. Julia had come to Gotham recently because Alfred was sick.

“Who is Julia?” Mareena asked.

“Julia is Alfred’s daughter,” he answered.

“Alfred is not B’s father?” she said in bizarre wonderment.

“Uh… yeah, not a secret,” he pointed out. “Alfred is awesome, and he’s totally grandpa, but he’s not blood.” Terry shrugged.

“WHAT!?” Mareena sputtered. Terry jumped a bit as he stared at her bewildered expressioned.

“What!?”

“He’s not blood!?”

“No, I mean, like ninety percent of my family isn’t blood.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “It’s not news.”

“I…” she started. “I always thought you were related,” he said.

“Really?”

“Black hair, blue eyes, ungodly pale.”

“What about Duke or Damian!?” he sputtered.

“Okay, so you don’t all look alike,” she rolled her eyes.

“Exactly, and we are all pretty much adopted. Only Athanasia, Damian, Alina, Helena, Tommy, Junior, Matt and I are actually B’s blood kids.”

“I thought you were just… you know, cause you’re a huge family and dad says B started young, really young, so I just assumed,” she shrugged.

“It’s all public record,” he shrugged. “B hasn’t been shy about it. Dick, Babs, Jason, Cass, Tim, Duke, Steph, technically and kind of, Harper, Cullen, Bette, and Renee.”

“I just thought you were related, and I thought you were also, you know,” she shrugged innocently.

“What else did you think we were!?” He sputtered.

“Vampires,” she said innocently.

“I hate dad for starting that rumor,” Terry muttered sourly.

“That one is funny though!” She persisted. “Hal told me, before I met you guys, that you were all demons.”

“Well, Rae is,” he shrugged.

“I thought your dad was big anti- anything that isn’t human marrying into my family,” Mareena said.

“Luci made valid points which had B accepting the fact marrying into a family as divine and powerful as Rae’s is a… you know, it’s kind of a divine honor,” Terry shrugged. “Besides, I didn’t know they weren’t married until they were officially married.”

“You didn’t know they weren’t married?” Mareena asked.

“They’ve been together since I was in diapers,” Terry shrugged.

“Really?”

“Yes really. I’m pretty sure they were the ones who found me,” Terry said.

“I’m learning more about you than I ever thought possible.”

“All of this is actually public record.”

“Really?” she asked skeptically.

“My biological mother was Mary McGinnis, she was married to Warren McGinnis, they died in a car crash when I was three days old and they were driving home from the hospital. I’m technically property of A.R.G.U.S. so Waller took me in, Jason found me about a year later,” Terry explained.

“That’s weird,” she decided.

“No, what’s weirder is the fact that Matt is my full brother,” Terry stated. “Mary and Warren were dead five years before Matt was even conceived, and he’s my full brother.”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you were B’s blood son,” Mareena said carefully.

“I am. Waller injected a serum into Warren McGinnis’ DNA to scramble his own DNA to match with Bruce’s. Warren was a chimera essentially thanks to Waller’s tinkering,” Terry said. “I’m a ‘clone’ of Bruce’s in a way or I was supposed to be with what Waller set up, and I’m his son, but NO, he did not get involved in the conception of me or my blood brother Matt. He’s the genetic material for us. He’s still Dad though since he’s well, Dad,” Terry shrugged.

“That’s complicated.”

“That’s my family. Also, completely public record,” he shrugged.

“You’re not normal,” she said icily.

“What!? I’m completely normal! I’m going to a movie, and with you no less, in broad daylight, and I’m not turning to ash because of the sun either!” he smiled.

“You’re sounding like a assbutt,” she muttered.

“Asshole,” he corrected. “And you started it.”

“What did you expect from my family?” she asked.

“Lots of energy,” he answered honestly. “Dad always said that you guys were energetic like no tomorrow and wild, also unpredictable, dangerous, and loud, very loud.”

“You expected that!?” she sputtered.

“Did you think I was expecting a mermaid from Little Mermaid, fishtail and all?” he asked her.

“Yes!”

“Nah,” he shrugged.

“You’re an ass,” she informed him.

“I’m aware.”

“Good.”

“Besides, I’m a you know,” he shrugged. “Being unpleasant and assholes in general are required.”

“Oh! The ticket booth! And next time we are dropping your family name to get into the movie.”

“You wanted to be a normal American teen this time instead of being a Princess of you know,” he said.

“I did not want that. You wanted that. Freaking love of invisibility. I swear if you were metas you’d all be like that.”

“Rae cast an invisibility spell once, that was awesome, terrifying and cool.”

“Why!?”

“Oh, the demons were hunting her, I was like seven, and it was a giant hide and seek game,” Terry said.

“That’s not normal.”

“You grew up under the sea,” he pointed out.

“You grew up in Gotham.”

“I don’t like you right now,” she decided.

“You adore me, I’m paying for the movie,” he pointed out.

“True,” she decided.

“Awe, you two are an adorable couple!” the ticket attendant said when they stepped up to buy the tickets for S.O.S. “First date?”

“We’re not a couple,” Terry stated as he paid for the tickets.

“But we are friends!” Mareena declared slinging her arm around his shoulders.

“Barely.”

“You adore me!” she declared.

Terry rolled his eyes as the ticket clerk chuckled but gave them their tickets. “I’ll spring for the snacks, you get the good seats,” he ordered as they had their ticket punched and walked into the crowd.

#bluboothalassophile #fanfic #one shot #hopes for a bastard spoilers #hopes for a bastard universe #terry mcginnis #mareena curry

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