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marie-swriting · 8 months ago

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Back To Life - TASM!Peter Parker

Marvel Masterlist

Speak Now TV Masterlist

Summary : Your mom and May set you and Peter up on a date, thinking you'll be a good match but both of you think it won't work.

Warnings : mention of Gwen's and Uncle Ben's deaths, mention of toxic relation (no details), anxiety, a bit of angst, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 3.1k

French version

Song inspiration : Electric Touch by Taylor Swift Feat. Fall Out Boys (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

Your clothes are scattered everywhere in your room; it looks like there has been a tornado though it doesn’t stop you from looking for the perfect outfit in your closet. Wrapped in a bathroom towel, despair takes over your body, you should have never listened to your mom. At least, you wouldn’t be in this situation. You grunt when someone knocks on your bedroom door, you tell the person to come in and your mom enters.

“You’re still not ready? He’s coming in thirty minutes!”

“Yes, mom, I know!” you drily retort before taking a softer voice, “Sorry. I just don’t know what to wear, I’m getting fed up.”

“Just put on something you feel good in.”

“Easier said than done! I only find flaws in my clothes. I don’t even know why I listened to you in the first place. I don’t even know him and we already have a date. This guy might be awful.” you start to ramble, pacing around your room. “I mean, you don’t even really know him either. You only know what your colleague May told you. Maybe she made him better than he actually is!”

“I might not know him personally, though I’ve seen him several times and do I need to remind you you saw him once, too. You even found him cute.”

“I saw him for five minutes, two years ago, it doesn’t count.”

“I’m sure Peter is a nice guy.” your mom affirms, stroking your cheek to calm you down. “Just to prove it to you, whenever May forgets her lunch, he always brings it to her with a big smile on his face and a kiss on the cheek. He always comes with her at work when it’s dark. And every time I talked with him, he was really polite. Do you seriously think I would have set you up on a date with the first guy I found? I have some instincts, sweetheart.”

“I’m still not convinced. We only exchanged, like, three messages and it was just to make sure it was still okay for today. Besides, maybe he won’t like me. And even if it works out tonight, who knows if it’ll last? I got a history of stories ending badly. That’s it, I’m not going, it’ll be for the better.” you state, taking your phone but your mom takes it from your hands.

“You’re not gonna cancel. Just breathe, just relax, it’ll be okay.” she tells you softly. “Look, I know your last relationship with George went bad and you suffered a lot because of it but you can’t keep closing your heart to new people because you’re scared you’ll find another version of him. Furthermore, even if things didn’t match between you and Peter, which I know won't be the case, you would have at least taken a step forward, you don’t have to be worried. Come on, put this on and you’ll see, you’ll be beautiful and at ease in your clothes.” your mom adds as she gives you a mid-length dress. “I have to go to work. Text me when you’re home, okay? Be careful. It’s going to be okay, sweetheart, I’m sure.”

Your mom kisses you one last time on the forehead before leaving your room. You let go of a sigh then finish getting ready. While doing your makeup, you can’t help but keep checking your phone, waiting for a potential message from Peter telling you the date is cancelled. Your mom managed to calm your anxiety down, yet your fear quickly came back once you’re alone again. For you, this date can only end in two ways: either it ends badly and it’ll break your heart, which is most likely to happen, or everything will be good and your heart will finally heal, which you doubt. You wonder if Peter is in the same state of mind as you.

The answer is easy: his state of panic is worse than yours. He only agreed to this date to make Aunt May happy. Since Gwen’s death, he has closed himself off but now, he wants to make an effort. However, among those efforts, ‘going out with other people’ wasn’t part of it, especially if it ends up putting another person he loves in danger; he can’t reproduce what happened with Gwen. At first, he tried to get out of it, though May insisted so much that he gave in. He sees this date as his last chance to check if he can have a romantic life whilst being Spider-man. He’d love for it to work just one time yet he can’t help but be pessimistic about it.

Knowing you’re only meeting at the end of the day, Peter decided to go on his daily patrol earlier. Nothing much stands out of the ordinary, therefore, he comes home just on time to get ready. At least, no matter if this date is catastrophic, he’s sure he’ll be on time.

Entering his room, he takes off his Spider-man suit and takes a shower. In his closet, he takes the first outfit he finds then he starts panicking.

“It’s a first date, I can’t wear whatever clothes I find,” he tells himself.

He’s about to change when he wonders why he’s overthinking this much when he knows it’s not gonna work out. You’re probably not going to like him or vice-versa. So, he puts back on his black t-shirt and takes a glance at himself in the mirror. His outfit is casual, maybe too casual for a first date. He should add a jacket. He can’t tell the difference it makes. He has no idea if his outfit is okay. After all, he doesn’t want to try too much but on the other hand, he wants to try a bit, you deserve to have a date with a guy who is presentable. He ends up changing his black t-shirt for a dark blue one. It’s less sad, isn’t it? As soon as he checks the time, he realises he can’t think any longer and goes to do his hair. May interrupts him to tell him she’s leaving for work.

“You look cute like this, I’m sure Y/N will agree with me.”

“Don’t know.” Peter mutters, turning around to be in front of May.

“Believe me, it’s already the case. Her mom told me you caught her eyes.” She affirms with a big smile.

“It doesn’t mean this date will go well. I’m not even sure I want to go out with someone else, Aunt May.”

“Peter, I know Gwen’s death has been hard on you but you can’t stay stuck in a world where Gwen is with you,” May starts as she puts her hands on her nephew. “You have to move on. That doesn’t mean you’re going to forget her. Gwen will always be in your heart and that’s normal, but it doesn’t mean you can’t let another person in. Besides, this date doesn’t have to end with a relationship. I’m already proud to see you allow yourself to move on despite the pain.”

“I miss her.” Peter whispers.

“I know, honey.”

“Do you think pain ever stops?”

“I think it becomes easier to live with it,” May softly answers. “You know, now I can think about your Uncle Ben without feeling my heart breaking completely. I can think about the good memories first before remembering he’s not here anymore. It’ll be okay for you, too, Peter. I’m sure of it.”

Peter smiles one last time at his aunt while she leaves the room. When Peter is ready, he checks his phone and sees you haven’t cancelled last minute, so he has no other choice than leaving to take the subway. Technically, he should be at your place at 7:00 P.M. sharp so you can go to a dinner which is fifteen minutes away from your home.

In the subway, Peter’s stress gets higher and higher as he thinks about what he could say to you, after all, he doesn’t know you. Your conversations might be empty and if it’s the case, it’s going to be a very very long date. As he thinks about a question he could ask you as an icebreaker, the subway abruptly stops. Peter looks through the windows and he sees they haven’t arrived at the next station yet. Suddenly, a voice interrupts Peter’s interrogations as it informs them:

“Dear passengers, we are currently having some technical difficulties. We are doing everything we can to fix the situation as quickly as possible. We apologise for this inconvenience.”

Peter sighs once he hears this information. He is going to be late. Great. He takes his phone out of his pocket to text you but, of course, he doesn’t have a signal.

For him, this breakdown is like a sign, he shouldn’t have accepted to go out with someone. Even if all of this doesn’t end like Gwen, the fact is, it won’t work, it’s for certain. He’d like not to suffer again, yet Peter feels like he’s allergic to happiness.

Peter tries to calm down his anxiety as he thinks back to Aunt May’s words and puts his phone away before waiting until the situation is fixed.

As for you, you’re waiting for Peter, sitting on your living room couch. It’s almost seven, he should be here any minute now. From time to time, you glance at the window but you don’t see him. The more the time goes by, the more you’re fidgeting.

“Just breathe, just relax, it’ll be okay”, your mother’s words resonate in your head in vain.

Your eyes go from the window to your phone, both of them bring you no news about Peter’s whereabouts. You start biting your lips, imagining the worst case scenarios. Maybe he stood you up? No, your mom assured you he was a nice guy, he wouldn’t do it. Maybe you gave him the wrong address? You check your messages and discover you made no mistake. Maybe you were wrong on the day and time of the date? Once again, your messages prove you wrong. Maybe something bad happened to him, then? No, you can’t start imagining awful things. He’s just late, nothing else. Right?

You wait a little bit more and when it’s half past seven, you text him to know where he is. You don’t get an answer. You start biting your nails whilst your heart begins to race in your chest, the stress getting out of hand, you don’t understand what’s happening and you start second-guessing this date. It was clearly a mistake, you should have never agreed to it. You would have loved for it to work for once however it seems like you’re doomed. You were right, you are going to have your heart broken and this date will end badly - if Peter ever shows up.

After being stuck for forty minutes in the subway, Peter finally arrives at your station. He weaves in between people as he runs so he isn’t any later than he already is. Five minutes later, he sees your house from afar. As soon as he passes by your living room window, you see him running like he’s being chased by something. Checking your phone, you see it’s 8:05. He’s more than an hour late, at that realisation, you roll your eyes. He better have a good excuse. You have already had guys who weren’t punctual, you don’t need another one!

Once he’s at your door, he quickly runs a hand in his hair, takes a deep breath before knocking. He waits for a moment before you open the door. As soon as he sees you, Peter is mesmerised by your beauty so he just stands there, saying nothing. When you give him a look, he snaps back before speaking.

“I’m so sorry for being late. I was stuck in the subway and-”

“I would have appreciated a text.” you interrupt him, drily.

“I didn’t have a signal. I got one once I arrived at the station. Normally, I’m always on time, I swear. I’m sorry I made you wait. You probably thought I stood you up which is totally normal but I didn’t. I tried to come here as soon as I could when the subway worked again.” Peter explains and you can tell he’s being sincere. “I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I? I didn’t mean it. I totally get it if you don't want us to go out.”

“I still want to. The subway broke down, it’s not your fault,” you reassure him with a smile.

Upon hearing your sentence, Peter smiles back at you. Even if he wasn’t excited to go out with you, he made a commitment to you and he always makes sure to fulfil his promises.

You take your bag and close your front door. Peter lets you walk first and you go to the diner. On the way there, you ask Peter a few more questions about the subway breakdown, not really knowing what topic is best to bring first.

Once you’re at your table, you keep doing small talk. Just by looking at you two, people could tell you’re not at ease, you don’t know how to act toward the other. None of you is ready to have a deep conversation. It's as if you have forgotten how to act on a first date. You even think about making up an excuse to leave. The conversation is awkward until you order your food. After talking about yet another random topic, Peter sighs before talking:

“I’m sure this situation is as awkward for you as it is for me. Your mom and my aunt set us up but it doesn’t mean it has to feel like this. I don’t know for you, but it’s my first date in a long time and I’m a bit rusty. My last relationship ended…, let’s just say, tragically, and so maybe we don’t really need to put big expectations for tonight. We should just get to know each other without expecting anything in particular and just see where it leads us, if that’s okay with you?”

“That’s okay with me.” you agree, letting go of a sigh of relief. “My last relationship ended badly, too. It was pretty toxic and I have to admit I need to warm up to new people first.”

“Let’s take it slowly then. No need to have a big romantic date, let’s just have a nice moment with someone new. What do you say?”

“I say I agree with you.”

From that moment on, the tension leaves your table, letting you get to know each other in peace. Peter asks some questions about the last book you read and quickly, you start talking about your interests, no matter if you have them in common or not.

In the end, you spend a good moment together. You hadn’t laughed that much in a long time. Peter is instantly enamoured by your laugh, loving the way your face brightens. Peter talks a bit about him and you have to admit you like his personality more and more. You mom was right, Peter is genuinely nice. At some points, you both mention your last relationship, without going into too much detail. You still have a long way to go, though you’re not against the idea of walking side by side.

After eating, you stay a bit longer at the restaurant, not noticing the time going by. When you leave, it’s past 10:00 P.M. As soon as you’re outside, you shiver because of the cold night. Peter notices it and offers you his jacket. At first, you refuse, but he insists so you accept it. As he puts his jacket on your shoulder, his right hand brushes past your shoulder and you shiver again, yet this time, it’s not because of the cold, your heart also beats faster yet, not because of your anxiety. His touch is like electricity and upon raising your head, you see how close Peter is to you and you think about how even more beautiful he is at this distance. You try not to show anything as you start walking to your place.

On the way home, you keep talking and you wish this moment would never end. You never thought you’d feel this connected to a man this quickly. As for Peter, he never thought he would let himself look tenderly at another woman who isn’t Gwen. Aunt May was right, Gwen will always be in his heart however he’s not as against the idea of letting someone new in as he used to be. Maybe not right away, but if you were to find your way to his heart, he would be happy about it.

Once you’re in front of your door, you give Peter his jacket back and you secretly hope to touch his hand but the clothes prevent you from doing it. You smile at Peter as he finishes talking about his theory about the multiverse.

“It was really nice tonight. I didn’t think I would have such a great time.” he smiles.

“Me neither. I had some apprehension.”

“I get it.”

“You know, I wouldn’t mind doing something like this again,” you start, avoiding his gaze, “I’d be happy to see where this leads us, even if we’re taking our time.”

“I’d be happy about it, too. Do you think it’s too soon to tell you you’re stunning? I’ve been thinking about it all evening and I just thought I should tell you before leaving and regret not telling you.”

At his compliment, your cheeks heat up while a smile makes its way on your face which Peter finds more than cute. Knowing he made you smile warms his heart.

“It’s not too soon, I appreciate the compliment. You’re cute, too. And do you think it’ll be too soon if I kissed your cheek?” you ask and Peter freezes. Instantly, you regret your question and you don’t know what to do with yourself. “Sorry, I went too far, I shouldn’t have.”

“I just didn’t expect this but I wouldn’t mind.”

A bit embarrassed, you get closer to Peter and put your hand on his cheek before kissing his right one. Feeling your touch on his skin, Peter can’t breathe for a second. He didn’t think your touch would be this electric on his skin. The kiss was short yet it’s already engraved in his memory. He knows he’s going to think about it every second of the day. When you back up, you wish him a good night before entering your house. Peter stands there until your door is closed, then he leaves your porch, a big smile on his lips.

You both lovingly think back to the evening you’ve just had. You know it’s only the beginning, though you already know one just like the other will know how to bring your heart back to life. You already want to see each other again and maybe it’ll take some time to allow yourself to fully fall in love again, but you don’t mind. For once, you know it’s going to end well.

Marvel Masterlist

Speak Now TV Masterlist

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simonsrosebud · 5 months ago

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also for my second WIP ask PLEASE brussels!!!! im not from belgium but its close enough (to the netherlands) so im really really excited about that one too!!!!

oh gosh I've only been to brussels once for 2 days so im hoping i don't do it dirty. i LOVED brussels and the netherlands!!

Neil realized with gut clenching clarity that Andrew would be sitting with him in each and every class that he took.

He and his mother had rules. Don’t draw attention, don’t ask questions, don’t answer questions, and don’t- definitely don’t make friends. Neil didn’t have any intention on befriending Andrew, but it was hard to go unnoticed when they sat beside one another for seven hours a day.

Neil had been determined for the last four years to follow his mother’s rules, but it wasn’t often that he went this unnoticed as the new kid. His mother would never know it, but it was normal for him to be bugged by a good five different students at each new school before everyone learned to leave him alone. If she knew that, then he’d never be allowed to go to school to all. Neil didn’t think he could handle that isolation.

So, since he was excelling with flying under the radar, he turned to Andrew two weeks into their introduction. “Why don’t you speak to anyone?” he asked in English.

Andrew stilled from where he was writing down notes in a mixture of two languages. Neil didn’t know why he didn’t just pick one. His own notes were written in French so that no one would know, at least from afar, that he was writing down aimless things instead. Making lists, like the food they needed to buy when it was his turn, keeping track of the last time he dyed his hair, and sometimes writing “letters” as if he had someone to give them to to tell about their adventures.

Adventures, his mother called them, as if he hadn’t known exactly what this was from the day they left. That his father was obsessive and angry, and that if they stopped he would find and kill them.

He shivered and tensed so as to not let it show. After a moment, Andrew slowly sat back in his seat and let his gaze slowly wash over the classroom. Their teacher, grading last night’s homework at her desk. Students, mumbling and quietly giggling to one another in favor of doing their schoolwork for as long as they could get away with.

When his eyes landed on Neil, he raised his eyebrow. “Do you really want to ask that?” he asked in slow, low, Dutch. Neil wanted to roll his eyes and tell him to fuck off. He was using the language against him because he knew- he knew that Neil was still working on it. The exact thing he’d refuted two weeks prior. “Let me also ask,” he started. Neil’s heart pounded. He looked like a deer caught in a pair of headlights. “How many times are you going to re-wear the same five outfits?”

Neil’s free hand, sweaty and needing something to grip onto that wasn’t the pencil he was close to breaking, clenched around his knee instead. When he didn’t answer, Andrew kept his eyes on him in uncomfortable silence. Waiting, and waiting, for what felt like a half hour but was only three minutes, until Neil opened his mouth just as their teacher dismissed the class.

Andrew stood and slung his bag over his shoulder. “You and I are somewhat alike, I hate to think. No,” he said when Neil nearly cut him off. “I don’t care.”

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#aftg #neil josten #all for the game #andrew minyard #the foxhole court #palmetto state university #nathaniel wesninski #brussels wip #brussels pt. 2 #wip game #wip writing #nathan wesninski #mary hatford

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tainted-liquor · 1 year ago

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this was specifically requested BY Bree, so here we go🤷🏽‍♀️

“Hood Princess” bree

For starters, I wanna just get a little background info out the way before I do anything. Bree is Bahamian, says she doesn’t experience racism, and its v likely that she has never lived outside of the Bahamas. The official language of the Bahamas is English and Haitian Creole, as many people of Haitian decent LIVE on the island. Haitian Creole derived from FRENCH, lets keep this in mind.

so first I wanna address Bree’s ignorance/marginalization of Caribbean people.

In the DC server I said “maldito mamaguevo” right after having a disagreement over…this message

I thought it was obvious this was in a playful/joking manner, but maybe she took this as a personal attack/accusation. I would just like to say that if I suspected Bree abt this anon (which I didn’t because she had Honey BLOCKED for some reason during this), I wouldn’t have made a joke abt it. Not sent the SS to her. I would’ve made a mental note of it and kept it pushing.

When Bree first sent this message I was confused, because as you know I have Dominican family. I speak Dominican Spanish, and generally only rlly know Dominican slang that I’ve learned from my brother and his side of the family. So obvi I was confused because Bree makes it known she’s very much Bahamian, so I googled what language the Bahamas speaks and if it’s anything like Dominican Spanish !

As you can see, they don’t speak Spanish…so what was the point of saying “I’m Caribbean I know what this means?” Anyone can be Caribbean…White black Asian Latino. If you’re born in the Caribbean you’re Caribbean…so why does this equate to her speaking spanish?

so naturally i went to Dalia abt it cuz even tho I myself could feel this was iffy, I wanted to ask someone else who is more submerged in Dominican culture. And Dalia said this felt iffy, because she has marginalized the Caribbean before and hopped between different dialects that are…not her own! Like Jamaican patois

But besides that, lets address another issue w Bree before we dive into her history of supporting a miles smut writer.

As some of you may know, Bree used to refer to herself as a “hood princess” and used PLENTYYYYY of AAVE and african american culture in her works…lets break this down rq

Bree has earned herself a reputation as a rather aggressive and obnoxious blogger, doing absolutely nothing but fighting w gwiles Stans and “speaking her mind” abt things nobody really paid any attention to. She said she was a pale “natural blonde” girl (I haven’t seen shawty so idk wtf she looks like)

So why does she run around claiming the title of a “hood princess” when she 1, did not grow up in an American hood, and 2, is probably white passing from her own mouth?

for black children who grew up in the hood, you know it’s nothing to brag about. It’s a low income neighborhood, a “bootleg” version of a neighborHOOD. Hence the name. It’s an incomplete neighborhood.

When I had a general discussion w her about the fetishization of African American culture a week ago, she seemed mad avid to defend making the hood be your whole personality..trying to justify it by saying it “makes you think and act a certain way” which is v true! However I’ve never once tried to make myself into a sexxyred “hood princess” js cuz I grew up in a low income area. She even agreed that african american culture was fetishized, so I’m so confused as to why she was offended by my post yesterday?

So as to why she’s mad…idk. When I’ve talked to her abt this issue before, and I’ve literally just taken the issue online this time as a black creator

now let’s move on to Bree’s ableism☠️

I got her so mad she tried to tell me I was “half a chromosome away from a learning disability”…ok!!

But besides that, lets talk about her defending Anika!

So this summer, a popular creator by the name Anikaluv made a fic where miles had readers…nudes in his phone😭

Children should not be sending, keeping, or taking nudes of themselves or anyone else. Wether that’s 14, 15, 16, 17. Just DON’T! It’s illegal, and this fic glosses over the fact that it’s a disgusting crime. Not only that, but miles mother SEES the readers nudes…so😭

Bree immediately took to defend Anika, showing her support for her and saying if we keep complaining we won’t have anything to read☠️☠️

When this is Anika…and Bree DEFENDING Anika

Anika also wrote about the reader buying miles a thong?? At 15?? You don’t “read miles smut” but you sure read anikas work !

FYI…Anika was going to write about Reader and miles GRINDING in said lingerie. And Anika said she despises miles smut, and so did you! But at the end of the day that doesn’t change what you said

Here’s the screenshot you wanted ms. “People are gonna do what they do”

mouthful, but there we go

#my bad #across the spiderverse #atsv #into the spiderverse #tainted liquor

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urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites · 8 months ago

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My bad friend! I did not do it correctly the first time lol.

DCU or PJO/HOO please!

Physical appearance/pronouns and sexuality- I’m a she/ her bisexual, I’m very feminine and I love the color pink and pretty dresses. I dress very girlie but I rock the athletic clothes for dance, which I’ve been doing for twelve years.

Personality- I’m a huge extrovert, I love talking to people, and I work at a museum! I love school and I want to study foresnsic in college. I can be a little closed off emotionally to people I don’t like, and I tend to gravitate towards those I feel like share my experiences with society shunning them. I value honestly and kindness above anything else.

hobbies/interests- I’m a true crime girlie! I want to study forensics in college, my favorite subject right now is psych, and I am an over analyst when it comes to human behavior. I’ve been dancing for forever, and I’m always moving (that might be my adhd though) I love art and literature. My favorite book is perks of being a wallflower or pride and prejudice. I speak English and Spanish and a little French, but I’m always open to learning more languages. I love baking and if wasn’t going to study forensics I would go to pastry school.

i think I did it right this time? lol maybe not, it’s been a long week, I hate exam season.

Your Fandom Ship(s): Piper McLean (PJO) and Jason Todd (aka Red Hood, DCU)

Explanation: staring off with appearances I think she loves the way you look- your hyperfeminine looks of dresses and pink and she personally isn’t girly but thinks it’s a totally cute (fucking hot) look on you. She also loves your athletic outfits and thinks it’s amazing. You’ve been doing dance for 12 years and really admires your swift motions and graceful skill. Honestly, you guys would get along so well she’s also extroverted and she thinks it’s amazing that you work at the museum and frequently visits and ask you a lot about exhibits and things like that. I think she finds it fascinating and honestly, you guys would just be such a cute couple together. You guys would be so uplifting and your personalities are pretty similar so I think that she would really enjoy hanging out with you as a romantic partner. She also loves true crime and watches, frequent documentaries or movies with you or whatever you were interested in and thanks forensics is really cool so if you ever did study it, she would be all about that and would just like love doing experiments with you and things like that. she thinks the fact that you were always moving is cute and kind of quirky. She doesn’t know any languages besides English and a little bit of her Cherokee tribe language that her father taught her so I’m sure she would love it if you would teach her Spanish or French and hot as hell whenever you talk to her those languages because she romanticizes people like she wrote she’s a very much romanticize person. I mean she’s a child Aphrodite and she romanticizes things a lot so if you ever talk to her in languages like that she would find just so so attractive. She would love baking things with her, although you definitely need to stop her from trying to eat the dough because she’s the type of person that would try to eat the dough before it’s ready and things like that.🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Explanation: he would be insanely attracted to your feminine display. I think he really likes feminine people, whether that guy girls, etc. no matter the gender. I just think he’s kind of into more feminine people. He would absolutely go nuts if he saw you I think he’s just so attracted to that. I also think that you guys would be just aesthetically pleasing together because you both contrast just like you and Piper contrast. He’s also an athletic clothes whenever he’s not in his suit like whenever he’s in casual stuff. It’s usually athletic so he definitely gets that and he thinks that Dan is super cool and would definitely come to your practices just to see you and if he wasn’t let then he would figure out how to watch. He’s less of an extrovert so I think you guys would clash and maybe you could bring him out of his shell a little bit and then return he could maybe you know help you learn that you don’t always need to talk to people and sometimes you can just have a moment to yourself. quite a bit about forensics being you know like an antihero/vigilante so I’m sure that he would love that and he also knows a lot about psychological things because in battle he’s always always trying to gain a psychological advantage so he’d find whatever you have to teach him fascinating and he could probably teach you a thing or two as well, so I think you guys have similar hobbies in that aspect. Not as much of a true crime because the fact that’s way too close to his actual life so I think if you guys ever wanted to watch something together, you’d probably need to pick something different but he supports that if you’re passionate about it. He thinks it’s wonderful that you value honesty and kindness above all else and I don’t think he would ever wanna break your trust and he’s just really he thinks that you’re too good for Gotham and he thinks that there needs to be more people like you in this world and he’s kind of a cynical or more jaded person so I feel like having you by his side he would just be able to see a little bit better sides of the universe. I think he would also like the novel pride and prejudice a lot so I think he would definitely read that with you and then discuss it afterwards and have your own little mini book club. I think he’s actually a pretty good baker. I don’t know why I just had Canon him is being the best at baking besides Alfred because he spends a lot of time around Alfred learning his ways around the kitchen so I feel like you guys would make stuff together and it would actually be pretty good. I actually think that he’s the type of person to know just a little bit of many different languages like he can’t speak fluently in many languages, but he can carry a conversation in most common languages. Anyway, you guys are super cute. ♥️

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catchyhuh · 1 year ago

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Well part 6 made it obvious that besides French and Japanese Lupin can talk at least in English, Italian, Russian, Spanish, German, Turkish, Korean and Dutch (gosh, he's good, I'm jelly).

What languages do the others know? I have some headcanons about Goe, but I'm curious about your ones!

well, the short of it, for all of em really, is: “do i need to learn this language to continue living for the next month? yes? ok let’s learn some conjugation.” so it’s less about which specific languages and just HOW many they know so much as how do they go about the process of learning/how do they USE the language once they’ve learned it so. IT’S A LOT

and uh also they all tend to default to japanese but you probably knew that LET’S GET INTO THE LOT

jigen:

jigen knows the least out of all of them, mostly because he. does not talk to many people. he’s an unintentional perfectionist about it in just that one sense; if he’s communicating, he wants to be SURE he’s understood, no room for misunderstanding

of course, that doesn’t mean he’s a slouch. i’m sure he can still speak, listen to, read AND write at least ten more languages than you and i can, minimum. BUT STILL, he just doesn’t want any room for misinterpretation, none whatsoever. so usually, he lets someone else do the talking, or he attempts to get by with whatever he and the other party can understand. it’s kind of funny because his stubbornness with this means a lot of times the gang will purposefully leave him to flounder, because THAT’S WHAT HE GETS FOR NOT WANTING TO REMEMBER SOMETHING AS SIMPLE AS “no ice in my drink please”

because of this, he’s most proficient in READING in other languages. there’s no need for input on his end, and he can get a hang of sentence structure AND the words themselves, so there’s no embarrassment later. so particular about these things

fujiko:

the only one who can speak a language better than she can understand it being spoken to her. like jigen, she mostly learns by just reading it, (sometimes by rereading a book she already knows, so she already has an easy guide to go off of) so trying to decipher someone TALK talking at a conversational speed is. a different beast

uses the whole multilingual thing as more of a novelty than a necessity. like it’s a party trick to her. like she's a translation dictionary in the flesh! ask her how to say purple in danish! wanna know the word for cookie in malay? if you want to know how to say “penis” in 30 languages, fujiko will frown and go “c’mon. grow up." ...but she'll still answer since it’s actually still just ‘penis’ in like five different languages anyway,

this is mostly because she weaponizes the “you don’t think i can understand x language, but yes, i can, and i can hear you calling me stupid while i’m standing right fucking next to you. you will regret this in time”

goemon:

absorbs foreign languages the fastest, which is hilarious because he’s always the most stubborn about wanting to just speak his first language. i mean it’s goemon, you probably saw this coming!

has since softened on the concept, not because of a “loosening of his personal principles,” but rather, he saw how damn DIFFICULT it made things for the average person he interacts with for two seconds of his life. it was initially easy to hold onto it, until he saw the poor waitress grin apologetically and say she was so sorry she didn’t understand. then he softened. a BIT. if you know even a smidge of japanese he’s expecting it from you.

wore a t-shirt that said COOL GUY in big, obnoxiously american letters once for a disguise. burnt it when the operation was over. lupin has five pictures of it. goemon allows the records to exist because he is, objectively, a COOL GUY

zenigata:

the funny thing is you’d ask him about it and he’d get kind of sheepish. like, yeah, he knows (he pauses to count on his fingers for a second) 23 languages but he’s not REALLY good at most of them it’s just like a thing for WORK it’s not like he’s REALLY got them down--

again, it’s the fault of that freakish hypercompetence that comes up for rule of funny. if he’s just getting off the plane and he realizes he’s left his gloves at home and is desperately trying to find a pair, no, he can’t get through in the slightest. but if it’s LUPIN involved, oh buddy if there is an ELEMENT of DANGER AND/OR LUPIN, he just breaks out entire sentences with almost perfect pronunciation and everything, to the point the other people in the room wonder if he was faking his issues earlier. and the answer is no, he wasn’t, he just didn’t have the proper motivation. NOW he does, and NOW he can speak fucking perfect indonesian, just because!

also kind of sort of treats it as a party trick the way lupin and fujiko do if he’s in a good enough mood (but you actually do get hints of that in the show, like that one little part 3 bit!) so that’s fun

#these people are insane. need to do a scientific study of how their brains work for real #lupin iii #lupin the third #jigen #fujiko #goemon #zenigata #asks

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daisyishedwig · 6 months ago

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Oh boy, it's Wednesday and as we move approach the finalization of themes for Seblaine week, I pulled out a WIP from last year that I'm hoping to actually finish (or make decent progress on) in time to start posting in August. So enjoy, some of the Mrs. Winterbourne AU.

“Oh, I don’t speak Tagalog,” Blaine said. Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “Weren’t you raised in Manilla?” Blaine’s mouth parted for a moment before he was able to speak. “They mostly speak English there nowadays.” “And you never wanted to learn?” Sebastian pressed. Blaine swallowed harshly, the questions feeling pointed and mean, and Sebastian didn’t even know the insecurity he’d zeroed in on and was needling at. “Of course I did, it just wasn’t ever an option.” “Barry was fluent,” Sebastian said, “why didn’t he offer?” “I mean, he did,” Blaine floundered, “we just never had the time.” “Didn’t you meet two years ago?” Blaine reached instinctively over to Cookie in his bassinet beside him. His body was preparing to grab him and bolt the second Sebastian finally said what he was getting at. You’re not Devon, you’re not my brother’s husband, you don’t belong here. “Two very busy years, I’m sure,” Grace interjected, shooting Sebastian a glare. “Of course,” Sebastian said, eyes still trained suspiciously on Blaine. Why didn’t he just spit it out? He didn’t seem like the type to be nervous about being wrong, he could start slinging all the accusations he wanted until one stuck, but he was waiting for Blaine to give in, admit that he didn’t deserve to be here. Blaine had spent his entire life being told that. The bastard Anderson child, he didn’t belong in the high society spaces his father and Cooper occupied, no matter how much he wanted to. He’d had to carve out his own space his whole life, and fuck him if Sebastian Smythe would make him forget that. Blaine squared his shoulders. “What about you, Sebastian? Do you speak any languages other than privileged asshole?” Blaine knew this game, he knew how to play it, was a master at it. He’d sent boys with families richer than Sebastian's fleeing off to their rooms licking the verbal wounds Blaine had inflicted. Blaine heard Paco snort from his place by the door and a glance to the side showed the Father was hiding a smile behind his hand. Sebastian didn’t flinch, simply raised an amused eyebrow. “I do, actually. French, Italian, Spanish, even Tagalog. Though privileged asshole is a dialect I’m fluent in in almost every language.” Blaine grit his teeth, hearing that even Sebastian could speak his language when Blaine couldn’t sparked shame hot in his stomach. “Wonderful,” he said icily, “maybe you can teach me sometime then.” Angry tears pricked at his eyes, anger at that smug bastard for thinking himself better than Blaine for speaking a language his own mother had been shamed for speaking. “I think I’m still tired from the accident,” he said, pushing away from the table and leaning down to pick Cookie up from his bassinet. “Thank you for dinner, Grace, it was lovely.” He sniffed slightly, and left.

And I know it's super late but I'll still tag @kurtsascot, @calsvoid, @lusthurts, @backslashdelta, @cryscendo,

@fallevs, @bitbybitwrite, @annepi-blog, and @sperrywink

#seblaine #sebastian smythe #blaine anderson #glee #daisyishedwig writes

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oh-surprise-its-me · 1 year ago

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Lil' headcanon of mine, Ron is fluent in several different languages (sure, Tom is too, as compacflt he has to, but there had been cases when Ron had to stop him before he accidentally said the wrong thing. In good faith, but still wrong, Tom please you've almost insulted that Chinese commander holy fuck please shut up). Chris is very much surprised when he hears him teaching baby Jake. He's surprised when he hears Tom and Ron switch languages. (Mav is confused too.) Now they both stare at their boyfriends and one son speaks different languages. (Bradley finds out during that faithful mission. He's not entirely sure of what it does to him... well, it does something indeed!)

Oh my god Aki you’re brilliant. (I don’t speak anything besides English and some American Sign Language sooo there won’t be any actual different language spoken.)

Tom can speak Polish, Spanish, and Russian bits of Mandarin and some sign language because him and Mav like to talk shit across rooms.

Ron can speak Polish, Spanish Russian, Mandarin, French and bits and pieces of others. He loves learning new ones.

They were in the backyard. Chris and Ron have been dating for about a year. Tom is staying with them until they’ve gotta go back. Ron started speaking fluent Polish to Tom, Chris thought he was going to pass out. He’s always known Ron is hot but lord.

Three weeks later they were in a restaurant on a date, a guy started speaking Spanish to the waitress she kept shaking her head until Ron leaned over and translated. Chris threw cash on the table and dragged Ron out of there and into a bed so fast.

Chris didn’t know how hot he’d find Ron switching through languages but goddamn. It’s hot.

—

When Jake started talking it was incredible. They had taught him some sign to say when he was hungry or thirsty or cold but him talking? Adorable. They cried when he first called Chris daddy.

Chris loved watching their kid learn what different things were.

When Jake one day suddenly asked for something in Polish he got a bit confused.

He blinked down at the little three year old. “Baby what?” Jake said it again and pointed. Chris had no idea what he’s saying. “Come on let’s go find papa he’s clearly been speaking Polish around you”

They go into the office that Ron uses when he’s at home. Chris bounces Jake. “Say it again baby.”

Ron looks up when Jake starts talking. “He’s doing it! Chris oh my god he’s doing it!”

“Hon. Love you and how excited you are. Did you not think about the fact that I can’t speak Polish.”

Ron looks confused. God bless this man. Somehow he’s got navy secrets up in that head of his. “Baby maybe wait until he’s a bit older and understands he needs to speak English at me and Polish at you.”

Ron goes a bit pink. He stands up and goes over to them. He kisses Chris, “and French.”

Chris blinks. “French.” “Maybe Tommy and I have been thinking about teaching him Russian also.”

Ron takes Jake from Chris. “Our son can’t save you from stupidity.” Ron lifts him onto his shoulder “yeah he can.”

Chris smiles, he leans closer and kisses Ron again. “Yeah you’re right he can.”

The first time Bradley sees Jake speaking a different language it’s Spanish with Javy on the ship after they landed. He didn’t know it at the time but Jake was talking about how he just wanted to kiss Bradley.

Two weeks after the mission they’re all together at Tom and Mav’s house. Jake is sitting up on the counter in the kitchen, he’s watching Tom and Ron cook like he always used to. He didn’t know how much he missed it.

Bradley is leaning next to Jake’s hip. Tom starts speaking to Ron. Bradley blinks, he’s not heard Tom speak Polish in years.

Jake chimes in. In Polish.

Bradley knows he’s staring. He can’t help it. “You speak Polish?”

Chris laughs from the doorway, he comes into the kitchen, he’s covered in grease. Chris goes up on his toes and kisses Ron. “He spoke polish more then English when he was four. Forced me to get a goddamn Polish to English dictionary.” Jake goes a bit pink. “Dad cut it out.”

Chris gets that look on his face that Bradley used to see on Mav sometimes.

It’s the ‘I could be more of a dick but I’m choosing to be nice today’ face.

Tom laughs and says something else. Jake goes redder. Ron slaps Tom, Chris snorts and loops an arm around Tom. Jake shakes his head, “Y’all are horrible to me I’m gonna find Mav.” He hops off the counter but drags his hand across Bradley’s stomach as he passes.

“Never thought I’d find you speaking a different language so not.” - “baby you think everything I do is hot.” - “shut up Jake come here and ride me.” - “yeehaw cowboy.”

#ron slider kerner #chris seresin #ron slider kerner x chris seresin #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell x tom kazansky #slider is jakes dad #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #what Tom said that make jake leave was he could see their kids married #he’s not wrong at all #Chris was forced to learn Polish because jake and Ron would forget to talk in English sometimes #thanks for the ask !!#I’m literally never going to shut up about them #pls keep asking me things #mac writes top gun

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years ago

Text

Step Into My Ride, Part 2

Summary: Ransom and his family do not get along

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, PIV sex, unprotected sex, sex in public, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.3K

Series Masterlist

“Gracie Lou Drysdale!” Harlan greets the three of you at the door, and Gracie runs right to him, wrapping her arms around his legs. “Come on in, and tell me all about your week at school. Ransom. Lucky,” he gives the two of you a head nod, leading his favorite great granddaughter inside.

“Luck, I hate coming here,” your boyfriend gives you a little pout, wiggling his legs, mimicking one of Gracie’s rare baby tantrums. He really was deep down just a spoiled child. He wasn’t getting out of weekly dinners with Harlan though. “If my parents could stay away, it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Ransom, you need to put your big boy pants on. Gracie loves your grandpa. She tolerates your mom. But for heaven’s sake, quit with this spiel every time we come here.”

“She hates my dad. And I swear, if he makes one comment to you or our daughter, I’m going to lose my shit. Harlan can start coming to the house for dinner.”

“Now there is an idea,” you smile at him. You would much rather have Harlan at your house, and in Gracie’s element any day of the week. “I could make us food, and we wouldn’t have to deal with…” a soft groan exits Ransom’s mouth as a dust cloud is spotted in the distance. “Come on, babe. Let’s go inside so we don’t have to explain to your parents why you’re in a bad mood.”

He still wants to complain that his parents always hijack his nice evening with Harlan and Gracie. There’s always a stupid comment made, typically by his father. Ransom always gets in a terrible mood and snaps right back at him. You always lead Harlan and Gracie outside and away from the chaos. Always.

Harlan adored Gracie just as much as she did him. If it was warm he would walk straight to the back yard, and sit on a bench with her and listen to all her odd behaviors from the week prior. Gracie loved to try different things. She took cues from her classmates on their own allergies, or way of speech and would incorporate them in her own routine for a few days, until she realized she was over that.

“Uno. Dos. Tres,” you hear your sweet daughter count with Harlan in Spanish. Ransom goes up beside her when Linda and Richard strut into the sitting area. What was a shame is how much Gracie wanted to impress her grandparents. “Oh! Oh! Gigi and Dink,” Ransom can’t help but to snort at the name that Gracie bestowed upon Richard, turning to look at his daughter that was so proud of something.

“I learned how to count to ten in Spanish. Uno. Dos. Tres. Cuatro.”

“Seriously? Spanish,” Richard was already rolling his eyes as he goes to the bar cart. Ransom is already sitting up straighter, ready to attack his father. “They should teach you something more useful at that expensive school. It’s confusing enough for kids these days. And now they’re teaching you another language when you haven’t even perfected English. What next? French?”

“Bonjour means hello,” she smiles, looking up at Harlan who gives her a kiss on her forehead. You bite at your tongue when Richard lets out an annoyed growl. Ransom’s family. He dealt with them. “And hola means hello in Spanish. Aren’t you proud?”

“Proud you're wasting my money like your father did?”

“My money,” Linda interjects when Ransom starts to say something. “Can we not argue for a moment? I think your speaking of different languages is commendable. What else did you learn this week?”

“I’m gluten free, and I’m not H2O intolerant. But I am a bit lactose intolerant, so mommy got me banana milk, and,” she gets the biggest smile as she turns her head to look at Harlan, “Daddy puts chocolate syrup in it.”

“Milk chocolate syrup?” Richard sits across from Ransom, giving his actual granddaughter an annoyed look. “I thought you were lactose intolerant?”

“Only this week. But banana milk is really good, Dink,” Gracie didn’t even understand, and you wanted her to keep her innocence as much as possible. She was adorable, and so proud. “And…I think I can’t have eggs next week.”

“Linda, your granddaughter is neurotic.”

“What’s neurotic?”

“Gracie Lou, how about you, me, and grandpa go make some chocolate banana milk? I’m sure he’ll love it as much as you do,” walking over towards her, you hold out your hand. It would be so much more simple if Harlan could come to you. Let Ransom refuse to see his parents, especially if a four year old they saw for a couple of hours each week bothered them so much.

“But what’s neurotic?”

“Just something Dink likes to criticize about. It’s always something, huh, father? She’s four years old. She’s learning who she is.”

“And confused as to what allergies are. Next she’s going to want to shave her head, and you two are going to let her, aren’t you?”

“Us two are going to let our daughter be who she is. Because she is ours. How we raise her is our business. Her trying a life without eating eggs is not hurting anyone. Her saying she’s lactose intolerant is hurting no one. And the fucking chocolate syrup didn’t have milk in it,” Gracie gasps as you quickly usher her and Harlan away from the chaos, but she caught her dad’s words.

“See what you did? You make me and your mother be the bad guy every time.”

“Do not include me in this conversation. I liked hearing her count in Spanish.”

“The child can barely count in English, and that expensive damn school is trying to teach her something else.”

“For your information, Gracie can count to one hundred. She’s already reading, and she writes her full name. She’s four years old. And she’s one of the top in her class. Why are you always shitting on who she is? She’s amazing, and you don’t even realize it. She’s got negotiating skills better than mom. And remember, she’s my daughter. If you hate her and me, and my girlfriend so much, why do you come here?”

“I’ll tell you why you little prick,” Richard slams his glass down on the table causing Linda to flinch, rolling her eyes and ready to leave the two of them to the arguing. “You squandered away all your potential. Working at a fucking garage as a grease monkey with the worst influence of your life, Dean Winchester. You’re getting speeding tickets, and spending the night in jail a few times a year. You live in that piece of shit trailer, and you’re shacked up with some whore who takes pornographic pictures of other women.”

Ransom stands to leave, walking towards the kitchen, “You won’t talk about my girlfriend and daughter like that. You won’t see any of us ever again.”

“Then put a goddamn ring on her finger, and make an honest woman out of her. You don’t have to spend the rest of your life with the first woman that spreads her legs and doesn’t know the value of safe sex. The two of you never should have had a child. Your mother pays for her school. You can’t even afford it.”

“Yeah, well, mom insisted on paying. Insisted on the school. Not me. I’m a good fucking father, and Lucky is the best mother I have ever met. We love and enjoy our daughter. She’s spoiled with attention and affection, and that’s a hell of a lot more than I can say for you. I don’t know why I bother dealing with you. You never have anything to say about me and my family. So from now on, don’t expect to be a part of our lives,” his eyes flick to the door when Chris walks in. “There you have it. The son you always wanted. Lucky, let's go,” he screams into the kitchen at you.

“Don’t expect to see my child ever again. You lost that privilege by calling her mother a whore.”

“I don’t want to go. I miss grandpa,” she curls more into Harlan, and he gives her a quick kiss to the top of her head, holding her closer.

“Baby, grandpa is going to start coming to our house for dinner, okay? You can wear your pretty dresses, and show him your room, and the house, okay?”

“You promise?” Harlan nods at her before she gives him the biggest hug, and you scoop her up.

“Head out the side door, sweetheart. Don’t take her around that,” you know it’s the best option. Gracie never heard arguing like that. She was well adjusted because you and Ransom let her try and figure out what she liked, and who she was without telling her. Encouraged all her ideas and new interests, and never made her feel bad for deciding she didn’t like something. “Gracie, you think grandpa can see you tomorrow?”

“Yes. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Gracie Lou.”

“You can’t keep my granddaughter from me,” Richard walks up to Ransom, “And take that stupid hat off your head. You’re not a child.”

“I can keep my daughter away from you all I want. She’s mine and her mother’s.”

“If you would have applied yourself like your uncle Chris, you might have made a few million by now. And even he didn’t live up to his own potential. Both of you could have made more money doing other things.”

“And money made you happy?” Ransom smirks heading towards the door, “Your number will be blocked, so don’t expect a call back. Chris, I’ll talk to you later. Mom, learn to control your bitch.”

“You asshole!”

“Richard!” Ransom finishes closing the door when Harlan comes back in. “You’re the one acting like an ass. Your granddaughter was trying to impress you and make you proud, and you dismissed it so quickly. Your son is trying to tell you he is happy. That is the life he chose, and you can either accept it, or you can keep your opinions out of my house. I will not make you feel that any of them are not welcome here. That is my grandson, and his beautiful family. I can’t help it that you don’t like the life that he chose as an adult.”

“That woman poisoned him.”

“That woman doesn’t have a rap sheet. He does. He had that before he even met her. That woman is who calmed him down. That woman is the person that co-signed with the garage because she had credit, and he didn’t. That woman is the one who stood by his side when he was in jail for two months, and she was pregnant with his kid. That woman is the reason they have land, and a home. And if you make one comment about their home, so help me God, Richard, I will kick you out of my house. He is happy. And for you to criticize the woman that has made him a better man than even you is rich. She has stuck by his side no matter what. She is loyal to him, and she’s a damn good mother. Did you ever think Ransom would be a good father? I figured he’d leave the woman to deal with the child herself, while you were left paying child support. Be thankful he’s a good man.”

“He’s trash. He could have been so much more.”

“So could you. Christopher, have Fran bring my food to the study. You can join me if you would like, or you can head to Ransom and Lucky’s. I’m done with this conversation,” slowly he makes his way up the stairs, leaving Chris staring at his older sister’s nails clicking on the table.

“Well, this was a royal fuck up. Richard, our son’s lifestyle isn’t my favorite, but I want a relationship with quite possibly our only grandchild. If he’s anything like us, he’ll know to stop with just the one. She’s a precocious child, but I want to be in her life besides just paying her school with my money. Don’t forget, it’s my money. I’m going home. Call a car to come get you. I need my space.”

Richard stands to go back to the bar cart, filling his glass with more scotch before sitting down to stare at Chris, “Ransom isn’t all that bad.”

“My son is in a relationship with his baby mama who has fake tits, and takes pictures of naked women.”

“You sound jealous,” Chris rolls his eyes. Deciding he was going to spend time with his father even if he felt Ransom, the grandson, was his favorite. “And I’m not sure if you're jealous of Ransom for being with her or her for the career she has. It’s boudoir photos. They’re not always naked.”

“I’m not jealous. Women like her, you just don’t marry.”

“They’re not married are they? And what does it matter to you?” It mattered to Chris. Chris was supposed to be the one with you. He could admit he was jealous of Ransom. Because Ransom got to have you whenever he wanted. That was supposed to be his life. He was offering you comfort and stability. But you were blinded by the fast pace Ransom, just like everyone else was. But if everything continued down this path, Ransom wouldn’t have that for long.

“I bet you’re holding out hope they never get married. She’ll never want you. Why would you want Ransom’s sloppy seconds anyways? Or their little brat.”

“Hey! You can say what you want about Ransom, but you leave Gracie out of it.”

“Why? Is she secretly your kid? I did always doubt her mother being faithful to Ransom. She did get pregnant pretty quickly. Ransom only stayed because he thought he knocked her up. She knew how to pick them. Too bad she didn’t realize you were the actual Thrombey, huh? She got those fake tits out of him though. I guess it seems fair considering he’s the one that gets to play with them.”

“You’re sick, Richard,” no one liked Richard. He was a misogynistic asshole. Even when Chris left his side, he could still hear Richard mumbling about his son and you. Chris just wanted the day to come when you realized that Ransom was bad news. He would be a better father to Gracie. No matter what Richard thought of you, Chris knew it was all lies. Chris knew you. Knew you better than Ransom, and knew you better than you knew yourself. He just needed you to understand that.

Karma would eventually take care of Ransom. He swooped in with his charm and fast car, and Chris didn’t even realize Ransom took you away from him until it was too late. Had walked in on you messily sucking Ransom’s dick after a race. He didn’t even know his nephew was the other man you had been dating. He knew that there was another one, but the few dates you and Chris went on they were fun. You laughed, and he was a gentleman. Ransom treated you like a whore.

It just made him sick to his stomach to think about how he made you drop to your knees and suck him off whenever he wanted. Or how he would drag you to his car, while everyone else was paying attention to the race while he fucked you like a dirty secret. Until you got pregnant, Chris wasn’t even sure if Ransom had ever taken you to his apartment or even if this was supposed to be anything more than sex.

Ransom knew exactly what he was getting with you, but Chris knew you had no idea who the real Ransom was. But soon you would know. Everyone would know. And Chris would be there as the constant and steady man that you needed. And now, even Gracie needed.

“Ran,” whispering his name as he rolls his fingers around your nipples. He did this when he got to thinking. Getting in his head about what his father and him were arguing about.

“You know I don’t think about you like that, right?” He lifts his head off your chest, and you nod, giving him a sweet kiss. “I respect you above all else. I mean, yeah, we have a ton of fun with the racing and sex, but I don’t regret giving it all up. I don’t regret living here with you.”

“People can say what they want to, but our trailer isn't that small. And this is our home. Gracie has had all her firsts here. She’s got little lines in the living room showing us how tall our baby is getting. I don’t care about what your parents think you or we should have done. I love our life. I don’t care that you’ve got a mile long rap sheet. I don’t care that you act like a teenage boy most of the time because when it counts, you’re the greatest man I know. You’re good to me and to our baby. You’re good to Dean. Ransom, they don’t see us as a family. They see you. And me and our flaws apart. But not how we overcome them together.”

“You’re right,” he sighs, flipping over to his back before pulling you on top of him. “Gracie is amazing.”

“She is. I hate that they don’t see you or us the way you deserve. But Harlan does. He sees all of us. And that’s good enough for me. Plus, Gracie Lou is a perfect judge of character, and she can’t stand Richard. Tolerates your mom, but wants to see Harlan everyday. Now, my pretty man, get you some sleep.”

“Do you regret the implants?”

“Do you?” With a devilish grin he shakes his head no. “You remember how I hated looking at myself in the mirror after Gracie? Or even how I didn’t want you to see me? Baby, I don’t care that people know I have implants or they judge me because of them. That’s their problem. They’re not the ones that have to look at them. We are.”

“Damn straight. And I like playing with them.”

“You better quit for tonight,” yawning, despite his playful protest. “I’m tired. I can’t have sex again.”

“Oh, you can if I want you to,” you smack at his chest, giggling. “Alright, Luck, get you some sleep. I’m sorry today went the way it did.”

“Me, too, Ran. I hate that going there makes you feel worse. You love seeing Harlan. But, he’s going to start coming here. Even if you have to go get him. Sweet dreams, husband.”

“You know I’m not lying when I say one of these days I’m going to propose, right? Right? Luck, you and Gracie are all I need in this world.”

“Mhmm. One of these days we’ll all share the same last name. But for tonight, go to sleep,” stretching out his arms, Ransom relaxes a bit more. Before his breathing starts to slow and you listen to your favorite lullaby as you fall asleep. The beat of his heart, and his breathing. It was heaven in its own little way. And you wanted this to be yours forever.

“Dean-o!” You shout, walking into the garage, waving your hands as you look in the back for Ransom’s car. “Good, he’s gone to get the baby?”

“Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you, Lucky Charm?” You fidget your fingers around, trying to avoid looking into Dean’s eyes. His loyalty was definitely to Ransom. Friends since grade school. Inseparable. “Is this about you two not being married? Luck, that man is completely in love with you, marriage or not. You’ve got him.”

“No. I’m not worried about that. When the time is right, I know that Ran and I…we’re forever, and I don’t need marriage to prove that. It’s just…you would tell me if he was getting into something more illegal than the racing, yeah?”

He grabs up a rag, wiping his greasy hands on the dirty cloth before he leans back on the car. Suddenly you don’t feel so good about asking Dean. You have always been able to talk to Ransom, so why was something Chris brought up hard for you to ask about? “What’s this about?”

“I had someone make a comment about Ran doing something more for money.”

“Like what? Running drugs? He doesn’t touch that shit, and you know that. A little bit of weed never hurt anyone, but…no, Ransom would never do that. That puts you and Gracie in too much danger. This right here,” holding his hands out, Dean spins around slowly in the garage. A garage that he and Ransom had built up slowly, and in time they became the most respected garage in Boston. “This is where Ransom and I make our honest money. He doesn’t want to lose this. It’s our dream.”

“Well…what about stolen parts? Or guns? Or anything besides the racing? Are you and Ransom into anything more illegal than that? A couple of months in jail doesn’t bother me. What bothers me is if he’s sent off for hard time. Be honest with me.”

“No. I don’t know what idiot put that shit in your head, but no. Ransom does exactly what you see him do. He works here for legit cash. He races for extra cash, and before that racing was put right back into here, and it bought your little dream home. If Ransom was doing something he should be doing, believe me, I would tell you, but he’s not.”

“He’s not doing what?” Ransom flicks his head over towards Dean, but then hungrily stalks towards you. “I can tell you one thing I’m not doing.”

“Where’s our daughter?”

“Mom has her at Harlan’s, and dad is on a business trip, so don’t look at me like that. Mom is trying for what it’s worth, and Harlan won’t let anything happen to that angel. So, why don’t you and I go over the books in the office?” You hated when he asked you to go over the books. There was so much overhead to consider in this business, and thankfully you were savvy enough with finances because him and Dean were clueless.

You told him that he needed to hire someone who actually knew what they were doing. Walking into the office, Ransom turns the blinds, and locks the door before he places your body on the desk. Pulling at your jeans’ button, and you just smile at him tugging away your pants. “What are you doing?”

“When was the last time I fucked you in here?”

“The time I got pregnant. You had just opened the garage. You swore to me that I couldn’t get pregnant because you were drunk, and so were your tadpoles.”

“I didn’t say that,” moving down to take off your panties, he stuffs them into his pocket. Holding up his hands to show that they were in fact clean before he diddles around your bundle of nerves. That cocky little Ransom Drysdale grin on his face. “I mean, I was drunk. I didn’t say tadpoles.”

“Yes. Yes, you…you did,” his free hand was already undoing his pants, letting his cock spring free from their confines. This man always made you a mess. “You said…said that you’ve called them tadpoles since you watched ‘Look Who’s Talking’. And…and…” your breathing picks up as you get closer to release, eyeing his pretty little dick while he was playing with your cunt. You didn’t care how many fingers he added into you, it was never as good as his cock.

“Ransom just put it in.”

“This is so romantic.”

“About as romantic as you fucking me here with the blinds open. Stuffing my cunt full of your seed, and we made a baby that night. The first time and last time you came in me until…until I missed…missed a period.”

“Yeah, well, made your little blissed out brain from the best head you have ever had you would have known better than to trust me drunk.”

“Just fuck me!”

“Alright!” He laughs, pushing through your tight channel. Giving you no time to adjust before he was gripping at your legs and rutting into your warmth. The two of you had grown a bit. The door was locked, the blinds were closed, he was sober, and you had birth control. What you thought was a mistake was the best thing that could have ever happened to you and Ransom.

What you thought was casually dating and fucking became the best relationship either of you had ever had. Honest, loving, caring, and so much fun. There was never a dull moment with Ransom, and the way that he stepped up to become a dad was the favorite role he had ever taken.

Some things didn’t change however. He kept his hat on backwards. Kept his pants down at his ankles for a quickie in public. He fucked into you like the two of you were running a marathon. Fast and needy. Your eyes locked into one another so you can watch the pleasure overtake your features. And the sounds he made, my god, Ransom made the prettiest sounds. He was so vocal, and it made you feel like the most perfect thing on earth.

You could feel his cock twitching inside of you, but with a calming breath from him, he holds off on his release. Waiting until you came before he even thought about reaching his own high. He was a generous partner. Placing his knuckles on the desk, he brings his face closer to you, peppering the sweetest splay of kisses over your face, despite the urgency of his thrusts. He confused your senses, and you craved more.

Desperately mewling out his name as you grab hold of his back. Circling your legs around him, and bringing him closer to you. His body starts to lay you down flat on the desk, while his hips drive him deeper into your core. “Lucky, let go, sweetheart. I know you want to,” his voice sounded wrecked. He was right on the edge of not being able to hold on anymore. “Lucky!”

“I’m…I’m right…Ran, I’m coming!”

One final thrust has him painting your quivering walls, and he lets his head rest on your chest. Blowing out shallow breaths on you while your walls milk him dry. The tiniest little jabs into you, until his body just halts movement. “You about didn’t get to orgasm.”

“I’m sorry. You’re just so pretty when you're grunting with every stab into me. Ran…this really isn’t the time, but — if you were doing something that would get you sent to prison, you would tell, right? We’re a team here.”

“What makes you think I’m doing anything illegal?”

“Well…Chris made a comment.”

“Mother fucker,” he rolls his eyes as he pulls out of you, “Stay right there. I need to see you weep of me while we have this conversation. Look, Chris is going to say whatever he can to make you doubt me. He’s a good enough guy, he helps me and Dean out with races, but that stupid bastard is still hung up on you.”

“Don’t call him a bastard,” one trickle of Ransom’s spunk makes a smile turn up on his mouth, and he reaches into the floor for your panties. Sliding them up your legs. You were going to be left a mess as you head home.

“I apologize that your little pet project hates being called a bastard. What I mean is that must have been some amazing head you gave him,” you give him a playful smack on his arm, and he shrugs, laughing. “I’m just saying, that man isn’t going to quit unless you think I’m the terrible person he wants you to believe I am, you know that. He wants you to see that he’s this amazing pillar of the community when he’s the one doing illegal shit. He’s a cop and helping a bunch of street racers clear the roads. Come on now. I deal with him because he’s family, and he helps out, but you see what he’s doing. He wants you to leave me and go with him.”

“And you don’t have a problem with that?”

“Do you want to be with him?” Your nose furls up as you shake your head, and Ransom helps you back into your pants. “I’m not concerned. I know who you love. I know whose bed you’re getting into every night. I know whose cock you're riding every night. Whose name you’re squealing every night. Luck, if you don’t want him involved in our business, fine. He’s done. But if you want to believe the seeds he’s planting in your brain, I’m not going to defend myself. You know what I do. And you know I would never make it to where I couldn’t see our daughter everyday. You tell me what you want to do with Chris, and it’s done. And quit denying that nothing happened between the two of you. He’s chasing you around like a lovesick puppy even though he’s seen my cum dripping down your leg.”

“Oh, shut up,” jumping off the desk, your arms wrap around Ransom as you smile up at him. “I really don’t want to talk about what did or did not happen with your uncle because it’s weird. I didn’t know you knew each other much less were related, but I never had sex with him.”

“Good. This pussy is mine. But if you want Mr. Deputy Do Good, you let me know. I’ll let you walk away without a fight. Live downtown in that apartment that he can barely afford, but I keep the kid.”

“Oh, no. She stays with me.”

“Then I suggest you stay with me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good,” tilting your chin up, he gives you the sweetest kiss, and pulls your left arm from around his body, holding it still while he slides a ring on your finger. “I would hate to take this back.”

“Hugh Ransom Drysdale!” You scream looking at your finger. He didn’t need to get on his knees and propose. He already had, but this was the actual ring on your finger. You hold out your hand admiring the small diamond and the way it sparkles. “It’s perfect.”

“Now give me about four more years, and we’ll get married.”

“We’re doing our bigs in fours, huh? First a baby. Four years to get a ring. Four more years to get a last name change.”

“I’m glad you get it, Luck. Hey, I love you.”

“And I love you.”

“And maybe later you can show me what that mouth do, so I can see why Chris is so obsessed with you,” you roll your eyes as you open the door to the office, getting a quick look up from the hood of a car and smirk from Dean. “I’m serious!”

“What’s sad is I know you are. Dean, you keep this one out of trouble. I’m going to pick up Gracie, and go to the grocery store. You and Valerie are welcome to come over.”

“No, we’re not fighting right now, so maybe I can get some desk action, too. Ransom likes to brag a lot. You better go get cleaned up before going to the store.”

“Behave boys! Ran, I’ll see you when you get home fiancé,” prancing on out of the garage you feel lighter already. Ransom had no reason to lie to you, and Chris obviously had every reason. You hated this type of thinking. You were with Ransom, and nothing was going to change that. As far as you were concerned, Ransom was perfect. A bit rough around the edges, but that bad boy appeal really got to you. A bad boy with a heart of gold, and a soft spot for his daughter. How could it get any better than this?

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @softsatnin @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @saiyanprincessswanie

#step into my ride #street racer #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x fem!reader #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fics #ransom drysdale fic #destroyer!chris #harlan thrombey

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moodymelanist · 2 years ago

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I don’t know if you’re still taking prompts but I would love if you would write an Elucien prompt with a baby. I can just imagine Lucien being a father and holding his tiny daughter with red hair and brown doe eyes.

Or height difference where Elain has to reach up on her tiptoes to kiss him and he teases her for it.

I sure am! I have babies on the brain since I’m working on chapter 2 of my Nessian pregnancy fic so your wish is my command 💖

shoutout to @c-e-d-dreamer for letting me borrow baby elucien’s name hehe

Elain rose to consciousness slowly for once, her brain taking a few minutes to come back online from her mid-afternoon nap. She’d been snatching sleep where she could for weeks now, and Lucien had fallen asleep beside her, but he was nowhere to be found now. The baby monitor was also suspiciously quiet, so she made sure to turn the volume back up before putting on some slippers and getting out of bed to search for her husband and her daughter.

It didn’t take long to find them. She followed the sound of his quiet singing to Jasmine’s nursery, already prepared for an overload of cuteness inside. The door was already open, so she slipped inside and immediately started smiling at what awaited her.

Her heart melted immediately at the sight of her husband pacing barefoot, their daughter’s head tucked carefully into the curve of his chest as he gently bounced her in his arms. She didn’t understand any of the words he was singing, but from Jasmine’s peaceful expression, clearly their daughter was enjoying whatever Lucien was singing to her.

Lucien smiled as he caught sight of Elain standing in the doorway, abruptly switching to English. “Look who’s come to see us, golam.”

“Don’t let me stop you,” Elain replied quietly, not wanting to disturb the adorable scene before her. She wish she’d thought to grab her phone before getting up, but that was okay. They had their entire lives for moments like these. “What were you singing to her?”

“Something my mom sang to me,” he answered, still smiling. He slowly shifted across the room until he reached her, somehow managing to bend down to kiss her without disturbing the baby in his arms. “Sleep well, Munchkin?”

“For once, yes,” she told him. It was the best nap she’d had in she didn’t even know how long, and she would be eternally grateful for him for it. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, leaning back so he had enough room to keep bouncing Jasmine in his arms. “I’m just doing my husbandly duties.”

Elain reached out to rub her hand over Jasmine’s hair, smoothing down the unruly red waves before replying. “That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it.”

“Maybe you can show me your appreciation after I put her down for a nap,” Lucien said with a wink.

“Lucien,” she replied, blushing. “Not in front of the baby!”

“She doesn’t even speak English yet,” he responded with a quiet laugh. “I can say it in another language if it would make you feel better.”

He knew good and well that repeating himself in French or Farsi would only make things worse. “You’re playing dirty!”

“I thought that’s how you liked me,” Lucien said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Jasmine picked that moment to let out a ridiculously loud cry, and the moment was lost. “Shhhh, it’s okay, honey. Papa’s here.”

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” Elain told him over their daughter’s cries. Lucien shot her an annoyed grin before resuming his slow walk around the room. “You want me to take her?”

“No, I’ve got it,” he replied. “Go take a bath or whatever you do to relax.”

“Are you trying to tell me I smell, Luce?” she asked dryly.

“Of course not!” he responded. “I was just thinking maybe I’d join you after.”

Now that she could get on board with. “Okay, honey.”

She waited until he’d turned around to face her again before yanking off her top, giving him a show for a few seconds before turning and walking toward the bathroom.

“I thought you said not in front of the baby!” Lucien yelled from the nursery. Elain made sure he could hear her laughing all the way from the nursery, but by the time they were through with each other, neither of them had the energy to be laughing anymore.

#acotar #acosf #elucien #Elain archeron #Lucien Vanserra #elucien prompts #anon asks #moodymelanistwrites

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honeysmokedham · 2 years ago

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TITTLE: Psych WHEN: June 25th LOCATION: Mrs. P's Car / The wife's house / The Zoo PARTIES: @mortemoppetere @honeysmokedham SUMMARY: Taken place right after Dead Bear Walking, this is the thrilling conclusion to the question, did the bear do it? CONTENT WARNINGS: None!

Nora made sure to force Emilio to stop and look at the penguins before they made their way back to Mrs. P’s car. Mrs. P jumped when the duo got themselves back into her minivan, and Nora relayed where they needed to go. The mini van started going, the heavy metal Mrs. P had been jamming to a soft accompaniment to the car’s engine. First thing was first, Nora slumped in her seat, feet pressed against Mrs. P’s seat as she pulled out her phone and googled French to English translation. It took a few guesses of how to spell the word, but Nora knew which one was the correct one when she got there. “That asshat.” Nora jolted up in her seat, turning to face Emilio. “He called me a bitch, can you believe that? Misogyny and a streaker? Name a worse duo.”

Phone tucked safely back in her pocket, and body not safely buckled into the car, Nora was looking at Emilio. “What’s your deal with him?” Nora asked, unsure which words would express ‘hey why didn’t you want me to bully him?’ properly. A thought struck her too late, after she asked the question. What if that was one of his one-night stands? Nora knew Emilio fucked. Emilio himself had mentioned that multiple times. It didn’t mean Nora wanted to hear about it. What if she was just pulling out a bag of worms, she didn’t want the answer to.

“Fucker knows my name too.” Nora slumped back into the seat. “Do you think I can blackmail him so he doesn’t turn me in?” With each taste of the world she wanted to live in, Nora hated Eleanor Beatrice Pine more and more. What the self-centered youth obviously didn’t realize was that Kaden had no clue about her famous beginnings or her missing personage. “Do you think illusions are captured on video? I’ve never checked. I could make an illusion of him naked at the zoo. Mutually assured destruction.”

—

The penguins were weird. Emilio spent a moment staring at them as Nora dragged him to their enclosure, eyes narrowed as they waddled around on the ice. Strangely, he was almost disappointed when Nora pulled him away, but they had work to do. The woman in the minivan seemed less than pleased to see them, but Emilio tuned her out as he settled into the backseat beside Nora, leaning against the back of it with a sigh. He’d say that had been a close one, but… He wasn’t sure it was over yet. Kaden had to know what Nora was now, and Emilio hadn’t yet determined what exactly he’d do with that information. He didn’t like the not knowing.

Nora’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced over. “Next time, call him a pinche pendejo.” It’d be fine for her to insult a ranger in a language he didn’t speak, probably. Better than her insulting him in English, in any case. At her question, he glanced up towards Mrs. P driving the van. Rather than respond verbally, he pulled out his phone, typing out a text and sending it to her: “Ranger.”

She was worried about Kaden turning her in and, truthfully, Emilio had no idea if the fear was one she should carry. He didn’t know much about Kaden beyond the obvious; that was part of the problem. “I have a video of him petting a cart like it is an animal,” he told her with a shrug. “I don’t think you need more than this. But I’m not sure you need it at all. I’m not worried about him turning you in.” He was more worried about Kaden killing her than anything. He remembered their conversation about bugbears, remembered how Kaden had specified that he went after ‘dangerous’ beasts only to list everything Nora did as ‘dangerous.’ Was it enough for Kaden to justify killing her? Emilio didn’t really want to find out.

—

“Pinche pendejo” Nora’s phone was in her hand in an instant as she typed out the words. Once again trying to get it right based on phonetics took a while, but she got there. Pleased with the results that came up in google translate, Nora nodded. “I will call him that. Pinche pendejo.” She repeated the words just for extra measure, to make sure she wouldn’t forget them. Nora was about to close her phone when a text from Emilio popped up, because low and behold he answered her question via text. Nora had thought it odd before the word Ranger. displayed across the screen.

Nora looked up at Emilio, then back down at her phone, then back up at him. “Well, if that’s what the r” Nora glanced at Mrs. P, swallowing the word back into her throat and skipping past it. “Have to offer, then what do I have to be scared about?” At least she wasn’t finding out about an explicit sex life. Learning that she was probably about to be hunted was much more tolerable. Nora considered everything she’d said to Kaden for a moment, turning over words and memories in her mind. “Well, he probably hates me by now anyway, with the whole BB thing. I threw coffee at him the first time we met.” Yeah, those had been good times. She’d do it again. Twice over, now that she knew he was a ranger.

“Why was he petting a cart?” Was that some sort of ranger thing? Or just one of the weird things the French-Canadian got up to? “I guess you’re right. Turning me in is probably off the table.” There was a weird feeling of calm about Nora. She’d come face to face with someone specifically born to kill her, and she’d left both encounters with no clue. If he’d actually made a move against her, well, it would have surprised her. Once again Nora was reminded of Emilio’s annoying habit of being right. Watch out for rangers. They could be anywhere. Well fuck. Well pinche? “Hey Mimi, how do I say fuck in Spanish?”

—

In spite of the tension he felt following the interaction with Kaden, Emilio couldn’t help but smile softly to himself as Nora repeated the curse words. Most people, when he spoke, didn’t listen very well. They assumed he knew very little in regards to whatever it was he was talking about, figured his opinion was worth nothing. Nora was different. When he told her something, even something as simple as an insult to throw towards someone who was getting on her nerves, she heard every word. She paid attention, she thought he was right. And that felt nice. It made him feel a little more comfortable in himself, in a strange way.

“Don’t underestimate someone just because they seem dumb,” he replied with a shrug. “Anyone can put on an act. Or be dumb in some areas, and smart in others.” Maybe Kaden was easy to bully online, but there was every chance that he was deadly when he had a silver blade in his hand. In fact, Emilio had no doubt that this was the case. He might have only seen Kaden in action in a barfight against other hunters so far, but the skill had been obvious. Not to mention the fact that Kaden was a hunter in his thirties — this, in and of itself, spoke of his ability. Most hunters didn’t see thirty for a damn good reason. “Try not to give him an excuse to hate you more right now. Okay? I’m trying to figure out what kind of a…” He trailed off, glancing to the front seat again. “Person he is. When I do, I’ll let you know.” If Kaden was like his cousins, Nora was probably safe to bully him. If he was like Rhett or Owen, she should definitely avoid it.

Huffing a quiet laugh, he shrugged. “Eh. Think he said he was high or something. I’ll tell you about it later.” No need to get into the existence of hallucinogenic frogs in the presence of an audience. Even if she probably didn’t need the ammo against Kaden to keep him from turning her in, she might like to have it for other reasons. “Depends on the context. And where you’re from. Chingar if you’re talking about sleeping with someone. Chingados or chingado if you mean, ah… Something bad is happening? That’s in Mexicano Spanish.” He paused for a moment, considering. “I could teach you Spanish, you know. If you want to know it.”

—

“I don’t underestimate him because he’s dumb,” Nora mumbled, despite knowing that was exactly what she was doing. “I underestimate because he’s the town fool. If he’s so,” Nora side-eyed Mrs. P.. God, checking her language was so lame. Why couldn’t everyone just know about the supernatural world? Nora let out a little sigh. “If he’s so good at his job, maybe people would take him seriously. Even the other cops don’t respect him.” That last part was an assumption, but she felt very positive that her assumption was correct. “And they are literal pigs.”

“Okay.” It was reluctant, but it was there. An agreement to not give Kaden more reason to hate her. "Unless he says something super stupid. I can't be held accountable when dealing with idiots." There was always a loophole, and since Kaden was the mega idiot extraordinaire supreme this one would see her out of the whole situation. there was more Nora could say about him. Such as she could tell Emilio what kind of person he was. That person would be sad and easy to make fun of, but Nora decided she'd gone in on Kaden enough today, and the man wasn't even here to hear her best material.

"Mrs. P, you're really harshing my vibe," Nora informed the terrified driver, who let out a soft sob at the comment. Was the car moving faster? Nora didn't care. She wanted to hear the story of high Kaden now, but she knew she was being denied the tale thanks to the listening ears of the current company. And furthermore, Nora hated that when she asked Emilio how to say fuck his first thought sleeping with someone and not the curse word. "So like, chingado someone wants me dead?"

Then Emilio was offering to teach her Spanish and there was a small warmth in her chest. All her life, she'd been allowed to learn an abundance of things. She knew ballet, sign language, sewing, the cello, and various other things. But those had all been skills taught to her by someone paid an extraordinarnant amount of money to teach her those things. It was nice to be taught by someone who didn't have to. After all, Nora had forced her way into Axis, had tricked her way into being trained how to wield a knife and become a private investor. And now he was offering to teach her Spanish like it was nothing. "I would like that," Nora informed Emilio, another soft nod of her head.

Mrs. P. put the car in park, and the trio found themselves parked outside an unassuming home. It was nice, compared to the dumps the two of them lived in, but it was definitely the kind of place Mrs. P. would live with her hoard of kids. "I'm going in the back, distract her." Nora informed Emilio, leaping out of the van. With a running start Nora scaled the fence and was gone into the ex-polar bear trainer's back yard.

—

“Fool means dumb,” Emilio said, but there was a hint of uncertainty to the statement, as if it was more of a question. Nora seemed to be implying that the two phrases meant different things; Emilio trusted that she wouldn’t make fun of him for not entirely understanding her, just as he trusted that she’d make fun of just about anyone else for doing the same. For whatever reason, she seemed to only mock Emilio when he was in on the joke. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to earn an exception for himself, but he was glad for it. “I don’t think he’s a real cop,” he added. “His job sounds made up. Animal control officer. I bet they don’t even let him have a gun.” And in America, that was really saying something. They let grocery clerks have guns at work here.

He relaxed a little as Nora agreed, clenching his jaw at her loophole but not arguing with it. He couldn’t ask her to change who she was, after all. If Kaden did something stupid and Nora made fun of him for it, Emilio would just have to make sure he was watching her back in case retaliation came in the form of something a little sharper than words. “It’s only until I figure out if he’s going to…” He glanced at Mrs. P warily, “arrest you for it.” He hoped the emphasis on the word would clue Nora in to the fact that by arrest, he meant turn you into a taxidermy bear on the wall. He liked to think the two of them understood each other well enough to get the point across. “If I find out he’s safe, you can make fun of him any time you want.” Though the idea of Kaden being safe seemed far-fetched. Finding two rangers who didn’t hunt anymore in Alex and Andy was already an anomaly. Three? That felt impossible. Hunters didn’t tend to retire, and Emilio knew firsthand how they were trained. Most didn’t make exceptions.

It was hard not to agree with Nora’s comment towards Mrs. P, though not for the same reasons. Emilio felt the need to grill Nora on her interactions with Kaden thus far, to determine whether today was the first time he’d sensed her as a bugbear or if he’d potentially known for a while now. But he couldn’t do that with an audience, even if Mrs. P seemed far too terrified to ever tell anyone what she overheard here. “Sí,” he confirmed, offering Nora a small nod. “Exactly like that.” Her pronunciation wasn’t terrible, he noted with a pleasant warmth in his chest.

The warmth only grew when she said she’d like it if he taught her. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure how good of a teacher he’d be. He’d taught his daughter to speak, but that was different than teaching an adult a new language. Still, Emilio wanted to try it. Nora was smart — she’d learn quick. And if she picked it up, they could avoid situations like this one, where they couldn’t say what they meant. He doubted Mrs. P spoke a word of Spanish, after all. “We can start working on it whenever you’re ready. Call this the first lesson. It’s an important one, anyway.” Knowing different curses was, in Emilio’s opinion, the most important part of learning any language.

With the car parked, Emilio scooted to the door, offering Nora a small nod. There was no argument from him as she scampered to the back of the house; he made his way to the front instead, a little slower but no less determined. Ringing the bell, he leaned against the wall and waited, listening to the sounds inside the house as someone made their way to the front.

A woman answered the door. She was tall, but shorter than Emilio, with blonde hair and dark eyes. “Afternoon,” Emilio greeted as she eyed him suspiciously. “I’m with Axis Investigations. The zoo has hired us to take a second look at your husband’s death.”

“What’s there to look at?” The woman asked with a scoff. “That beast killed him, just like I always told him it would.” The response told him a lot already, allowing him to shift his approach. He offered her a tight smile.

“Just covering the bases,” he told her. “Can I come in, or would you feel more comfortable talking out here?”

The woman looked him up and down, lip curling slightly. “I don’t want you in my house,” she said decisively. “We can talk out here.” It was the answer he’d been hoping for. Talking out here instead of inside would give Nora free reign of the house without any worry of being caught. She could learn more that way.

Emilio nodded, taking a step back so the woman could join him on the porch. “Mind if we take a seat on your swing here? I’m not so good at standing.” The woman rolled her eyes, but motioned for Emilio to go ahead. He placed himself on the swing close to the window, blocking her view of the inside of the house. Hopefully, Nora was already inside rummaging around.

—

"Yeah, but it's like squares and rectangles. Not every dumbass is the town fool, but every town fool is dumb." Unwilling to have idle hands, Nora started working her short hair into pigtails. Easier to keep the strands out of her face while breaking and entering. "Some dumb people know how to keep their stupidity to themselves." She pulled a cap out of her jacket of many pockets, a snake curled in the interior, sleeping off the daylight. "Sorry little buddy." She gently placed the snake back into her pocket before equipping the cap. Nora had painted a custom design on her breaking-and-entering hat. It read "Better to be a faggot than a fascist" which was a quote from her new favorite superhero. Hobie, aka Spider-Punk. Cass had introduced her to him, and Nora knew she wouldn't need another superhero again. Her only wish was that he got more material. Maybe she'd have to make her own. She'd also painted a little version of spider-punk next to the phrase, rocking out on his guitar. "You're right, they probably think anyone who wants to be a pretend cop isn't ready for a gun. Pigs practicing gun control. Who would have thought." Nora added the last bit with a roll of her eyes.

"Arrest me?" Nora knew he meant kill her. It was obvious. Why would a hunter arrest a monster? Especially when that monster could make all the other inmates' lives a living hell. Nora slapped an overdramatic hand over her heart. "Little old me?" The drama sounded weird in her monotone voice, but she really wanted Emilio to know she wasn't worried about Kaden. There wasn't a single cell in her body that thought he was capable of hurting her in anyway. If he ended up being a fierce hunter and killing her, then she'd give him his dues, but she couldn't picture it. Besides, if she was wrong she wouldn't even need to admit she was wrong. She'd be dead. It was a win-win. Kinda.

Nora knew hunters were a stressor for Emilio. He'd given her the lecture to watch out for them often enough that she could give herself the speech if she was so inclined. He'd glared at her across the room in Axis after seeing her post particularly incriminating things, accompanying his disappointment with a heavy sigh. On one hand, it was nice to know there was someone who had her back. Someone who cared that she made it out alive. It was nice to know there was someone in her corner, someone rooting for her and caring about her well-being. On the other hand, Kaden was Kaden. Could he really do anything?

"I'm ready as soon as we save the oso." Nora was going to have to thank Metzli for getting her to google the word bear in Spanish. Now, Nora knew she was going to get a good grade in being the best student Emilio ever had, something that was both normal to want and possible to achieve. She shoved the cap further down her eyes as if she thought there might be cameras ready to capture her appearance at any moment. "I'll meet you back here in fifteen. Be ready, pinche pendejo"

There was a scent of blood in the back. Nora tracked to the edge of the backyard, but it was coming from next door. Nora considered climbing the fence to see what was up over there, but Emilio was distracting the wife now. If she wasted her window of opportunity, they'd have to come up with a new way to get her into the house. The back door was unlocked. An unforgivable sin. Maybe Nora could find it within her to forgive her since her husband just died. But only if she hadn't been the one to kill him. With disappointment, she tucked her lock picks back in her pocket and let herself in. Nora was careful to slowly shut the door, listening to the voices drifting from the front of the house to confirm Emilio had started his interrogation. Luckily for her, the backdoor let her into the kitchen. Fridge first, it's what the universe wanted. Nora shoved snacks into her pocket, and with her free hand, she started snapping pictures with her phone. There were a lot of pictures of the couple looking madly in love. Gross. Nora moved around the kitchen, a few bills were piled on the table where it looked like she'd been opening mail when they got there. Either Nora was very lucky, or very good at being a private investigator. She didn't know, and she didn't question it. Nora snapped some more photos.

As Nora moved further into the house, she came across plenty of bouquets set up for condolences. It seemed the trainer had been loved. Nora snapped a photo of each card she could find. Every now and then, she would stop to see if she could smell anything weird. Nothing. It smelled like a house that had been lived in, the flowers from the mourners, and the new food she had shoved into her pockets. There wasn't even a ghost haunting the place to have a friendly chat. Nora kept her march throughout the rooms, snapping as many pictures as she could to bring back to Emilio. One of the rooms she searched had a window pointing to the patio, she could see Emilio sitting on the porch swing. Nora spent a second trying to make eye contact with him to flip him off, before delving deeper into the house.

The next room Nora entered was the office, the computer sat open on a website for grieving widows of animal attacks. Was that really such a common way to go they made themselves a website? Nora snapped a picture. Would someone who murdered her husband, one who was already deemed innocent by the police, take the time to join such a community? Nora looked at the account's posts and saw that she'd made a few posts seeking help for her grief. Snap. As Nora was moving the mouse around, taking pictures of different emails, she accidentally knocked a pen off the table. It clattered into the trash can. Nora groaned, bending over to pick it up. Better not to get caught snooping because of a misplaced pen. To her delight, the pen wasn't the only inhabitant of the trashcan, ripped-up pictures of Nanook were in there too. Oh. So she was mad, mad at the polar bear. Snap. Was this enough? Was this going to be enough? Nora hoped so, because she could hear the closing of a door.

Damn. Seemed like Emilio hadn't been able to charm more time out of the wife, or someone else was in the house. Nora stood at the office door for a second, debating if she wanted to risk making it back to a door. Without any idea if it was the wife or someone else, she didn't want to risk walking down the hallway. The window it was. Nora shoved it open, and landed in a bed of flowers. She hoped those weren't prized. Nora shut the window, then ran towards the van. Half way, she remembered the smell in the back yard. Nora switched course, following that scent of blood she'd sniffed out earlier. The fence on the other side looked like it had been pushed out. Grass was still bent and intended from previous weight. Snap. A decroative rock was placed over the spot Nora was smelling. She pushed it aside, to find stained grass. Well that was suspicious. Why would his wife kill him in their neighbors yard? Snap. Nora put the rock back, running back to the van.

Panting, Nora slid the van door open and waited for Emilio. She didn't give him a chance to speak. "I'm going first." Then she let out a slew of words discribing everything she saw and working through every picture she took. When she was done, she took a deep breath. "I don't know why she would kill him in her neighbors yard. Isn't that harder to hide? What did you find out?"

—

“I see.” Emilio made a note of this, giving Nora an appreciative nod. It made sense, he guessed; there was overlap, but it wasn’t a complete circle. There were exceptions, but Kaden wasn’t one of them. At least, not according to Nora. It felt a little mean for Emilio to agree with her given the fact that he did genuinely think Kaden was an all right guy, but until he knew for certain that the ranger had no plans of killing his assistant, he saw no reason to say as much. Even if he did decide that Kaden wasn’t a threat, he was sure the Frenchman had dealt with far worse than a kid bullying him online. It wasn’t worth stepping in unless Nora stepped over a line, and Emilio didn’t think she was. She wasn’t cruel. Not on purpose, at least.

He watched Nora pull a hat from her pocket, reading the text with an amused glint in his eye. Good for her. He didn’t understand the reference, of course, or the strange cartoon drawn next to it, but he liked the sentiment. “Eh, they probably won’t give a gun to anyone with an accent,” he replied with a shrug. “Wouldn’t let him arrest you, though.” By which he meant wouldn’t let him kill you. Emilio had only ever hurt another hunter once, and there were days where his hands still shook from the weight of the knife he’d put in his uncle’s gut. Still, he’d do it again for Nora in a heartbeat. Without hesitation. She deserved someone who would do that for her. He wasn’t sure she’d ever had it before.

She knew how to say bear, at least. Emilio flashed her a fond smile. “Bueno,” he said, reaching out briefly to put a hand on her arm before pulling away. It wasn’t something anyone had ever done for him. Positive reinforcement wasn’t how he was raised. Doing things right was expected, and no one would praise you for doing what was expected of you. But he wanted to be better than that now the same way he wanted to be the sort of man who made sure things needed killing before he killed them. He didn’t want to make the same mistakes over and over again, didn’t want to live his whole life without changing or growing. Desperately, he wanted to be more than he was. He wasn’t sure he was capable of it. A brief pat on the arm and a single word of encouragement couldn’t undo everything he’d done wrong, but it was what he had now. Maybe he’d have more tomorrow. “Fifteen,” he agreed with a nod. “Ten cuidado. Be careful.”

It was easy to settle onto the porch, trusting that Nora could handle the house. They’d done this before a time or two. Sometimes, the roles were reversed — there were people better distracted by a twenty year old girl than a surly detective, people who might be put on guard by Emilio who would relax for Nora. Today, though, he thought their roles were perfect. Nora could easily sneak through the woman’s house while Emilio was better suited to determine if her grief was legitimate, though Nora wouldn’t know why this was the case.

There was certainly something familiar about the way the woman carried herself, he noted as she joined him on the porch, a level of anger and irritation that Emilio had seen in himself. Already, he found himself doubting the initial theory that she was responsible for her husband’s death. He motioned for her to sit, and she sniffed as she did so. She shot him a glare, folding her hands in her lap.

“I don’t know what that place wants to know,” she said, spitting out the words like they were a curse. “They’re more worried about their bear than they are my husband’s death.”

Emilio almost told her that this wasn’t true, but… She didn’t want to hear that, did she? He looked at her carefully, eyes stuttering to a stop on her hands. She was still wearing her wedding band. Her fingers twisted at it absently, and his own ring felt heavier in response. “They’re worried about the truth,” he responded. “Whatever that is.”

“And what are you worried about, Detective?” The word was aimed at him like a weapon, but Emilio hadn’t been afraid of projectiles since he was a child. He shrugged, tearing his eyes away from her ring with some difficulty. They landed on his instead, on the way he’d started fiddling with it without meaning to. He felt her eyes on it, too, wondered if it was the source of her anger, if there was some jealousy in the assumption that the ring matching the one on his finger was on the hand of someone who loved him going about their day. He’d understand if there was. He’d felt that grief himself, knew the envy that existed towards people who weren’t grieving when grief was the only thing you had.

“I want you to be able to know what happened.”

“It won’t change anything.”

“No. But you’ll know. And it’s better to know. You’d spend your whole life wondering, if you didn’t.” He paused for a moment. His eyes darted to the window just in time to see Nora flipping him off. He fought the urge to give away her position by rolling his eyes, turning back to the wife instead. “My wife died,” he told her. “Two years ago.” She opened her mouth, and he shook his head. “Don’t say you’re sorry. We both know it doesn’t mean anything, don’t we?” Closing her mouth again, she nodded.

“And do you… Know what happened to her?”

“I do,” he nodded, thinking of the blood on the living room floor, the way he still saw it when he closed his eyes. “I know.”

“Does it help?”

He paused for a moment, considering. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he didn’t know if she’d care for his answer. “It hurts,” he said, “but I’m glad I know it. If I didn’t… For me, there’s nothing worse than a question without an answer. It’s why I do this. Why I help other people find those answers. I’m doing this for the place your husband worked, because they hired me. But more than that, I’m doing it for him. He loved it, didn’t he? The bear.”

She laughed. It was a brittle thing, no humor to it. “Sometimes, I think he loved it more than he loved me. We never had children. I think I was always worried that, if we did, he’d love the damn bear more.”

“He’s gone now,” Emilio said bluntly, and she flinched. “But the bear he loved isn’t. And if he were alive, I think he’d want to make sure it didn’t suffer for something it didn’t do. I think… He wouldn’t want his legacy to be this. He’d want more. For you, for the bear. I think he’d want more.”

She nodded again, bringing a hand up to rub at her eyes. “What — What did you want to ask me? About him, about the bear. I’ll answer your questions now. I’m sorry I was rude before. I’m just… I’m so angry. About all of it. It seems so senseless.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know you are. And finding answers won’t stop that.”

“What does?”

“Someone said time. I don’t know if that’s true. Maybe I haven’t had enough of it yet.” He smiled faintly, shaking his head. “I don’t have any questions anymore. But I’d like to get your phone number, if that’s okay. I can tell you what I find when I find it.”

Nodding, the woman pulled out her phone. Emilio exchanged numbers with her, then stood. There was a glint from the window next door, and he turned his head just in time to see the blinds fall shut. “Nosy neighbors?”

The wife rolled her eyes. “Terrible ones, really. We’ve had nothing but problems with them since we moved in. They keep ‘offering’ to buy the place, but it feels like more of a demand. My husband told me he thinks they want to bulldoze our lot so they can add on to theirs. They’ll have this place over my dead body, though. I’m not leaving now that he’s gone. The house is what I have left.”

Emilio filed the information away with a nod, offering a platitude of, “You have a lot more than that. It was nice speaking with you. I appreciate you taking the time.”

“I appreciate you sharing your story,” she replied. “I hope you get your time.”

“And I hope you get yours.”

With one last nod, he departed, making his way back to the van and meeting Nora on the way. Nora immediately launched into a description of everything she’d found out, and Emilio found he agreed with her assessment. He opened Mrs. P’s van, ushering for Nora to get inside and climbing in after her, cracking the window to light up a cigarette. Mrs. P looked upset, but didn’t comment.

“She didn’t kill him,” Emilio confirmed. “She mentioned a problem with the neighbors. Property dispute. That, plus the blood you found…” he trailed off, taking a drag of the cigarette and releasing the smoke with a sigh. “I think we’ve solved our case, kid.”

—

From the moment Emilio declared they had solved their case, everything snowballed in a blur of action. Mrs. P cried the whole way back to the zoo where the two of them, Emilio doing all the talking while Nora nodded aggressively behind him in a show of support while being equally surprised at the explanation, explained what had happened. The wife and Nanook were in the clear for the murder of Mr. Trainer. It hadn't even been the butler in the library with a crowbar, or whatever. It had been the next-door neighbor. Don't covet thy neighbor or whatever, because if you do, you'll bash him over the head while arguing over property lines. Emilio had put it together through all the pieces of information picked up along the way, cementing Nora's opinion of him being the smartest person in town.

The zoo listened to the evidence and looked at the pictures. Then the police were called. The police scoffed at them, then listened to the evidence and looked at the pictures. A process that took too long for the forward nature of the situation, in Nora's opinion. Eventually, Axis Investigations, the only people doing any sort of leg work in the case, were dismissed from the meeting. Nora supposed it was because the cops were embarrassed that they were caught out, once again, being lazy, good for nothing, wastes of space and money. After a while, you think they'd get used to being publically humiliated. Nora made to stare down the tallest one, whose hand never left his sidearm the whole time. Nora just knew he had a problem with people questioning his authority. Nora's eyes bore into him until the moment the office door was shut behind them, and the choice was taken from her. If there was a window to the office, she would have switched to glaring at him from there. What would he do? Arrest her? She'd like to see him try.

"Come on, Mimi. We're going to go look at bears." The day was young, kind of, and there were still so many different types of bears at the zoo. The duo wandered around the zoo for a good bit, looking at bears. They also looked at animals that were not bears, but those were less exciting in Nora's opinion. Eventually, they circled back to looking at the penguins. A park bench was perfectly placed to look at the silly guys flopping in and out of the water, while also giving a view of the polar bear habitat. For whatever reason, Emilio seemed to really like the penguins. To each their own. She'd made him look at bears, she could look at penguins for a bit. It was cute when they gave each other rocks.

Nora settled on the park bench, pulled out her phone, and started texting. It was important to her that she told the Allgoods all about how she saved a polar bear at work today. Van was always talking about how her job was the worst and Janice was always ruining everything. Nora wanted to share how she had the best job. At the same time, she was trying to convince Emilio that they should steal some penguins. "We can take two of them, so they don't get lonely," Nora was absently saying. She didn't think it would work, especially since he'd already told her no polar bears in the crypt. "They can be named Pingüino y Pingüina." True to his word, Emilio had already started feeding her words in Spanish. Words that she was determined to work into her everyday vocabulary to make sure she remembered.

Movement in the polar bear habitat made her give up the good fight. The gate to the back area was opening, and a trainer clad in khakis started putting out some food. Dropping the phone back into her pocket, Nora ran to the railings just in time to see Nanook being released from his captivity and put back out in his home. "Finally." Nora let out a relieved breath. The zoo and police had actually listened. They had actually managed to save the bear. Nora stood pressed against the railing for a good while, watching as Nanook meandered around his enclosure before moving about what had to be his regular routine. Nora could feel the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile. "You did that," Nora told Emilio, pointing at that bear. "You saved his life. Thank you." Because even though Nanook wasn't a bugbear, and even though she couldn't talk to bears, it was comforting to know that polar bears could be safe in this town.

Nora grabbed Emilio, dragging him to the edge of the polar bear enclosure and positioning him where she could see Nanook behind him. A light feeling coursed inside her and warmed her up. Jobs had never mattered to her. Being a model. Being an influencer. Being a student. Those were all things she'd been forced into doing. Jobs that people had told her would make her important, so she should care about them. Something something, don't you want to contribute to society? Make a name for yourself? None of that shit could compare to the feeling of successfully solving this case. They had just saved Nanook's life. Emilio was really on to something about this private investigation business. "Hey can you take a picture of us with the polar bear," Nora asked a random woman who had been nearby. The woman agreed, "Smile." Nora instructed, standing next to Emilio. Her own features only managing the small uptick of her lips.

The woman, not new to the age of social media, took a few options for them before giving the phone back and moving on her way. Nora looked through the options and sent her favorite one to Mimi, not caring if he wanted a copy or not. "Come on. We better get back before Mrs. P. passes out of dehydration." Nora informed her mentor, stretching. It had been a good day's work, and now she was ready for a good day's sleep. Plus she still had to get her two hours of training in for the day. "She's been crying all day. That can't be good for her, you know."

—

It went pretty well, as far as things could be expected. The zoo staff, who had wanted an alternative answer all along, were happy to accept the truth of the matter. It was easy enough to make the jump that, after killing the trainer, the neighbor had used the dead man’s keycard to get back into the zoo and plant the body in the bear’s enclosure. It was a half-decent body disposal plan, though Emilio suspected he’d been banking on the bear eating the corpse rather than being blamed for the death when it was found.

The police, of course, were less willing to accept a less straightforward answer. There was less paperwork involved with an animal attack than there was with a murder, and cops didn’t particularly like being proven wrong. They liked it less when they were proven wrong by a smug immigrant and a kid whose name he refused to disclose, but even they couldn’t argue with the evidence Axis had provided. He wondered if Kaden had anything to do with it, if he’d insisted his coworkers at least hear the private detectives out before they’d headed out to the zoo. He wouldn’t have been surprised; he might not trust Kaden at this moment, but he’d seen how much the ranger wanted the bear saved.

By the time Axis was ‘excused’ from the meeting, Emilio was confident that the bear would live on to bear another day. And Nora seemed pleased, which was a definite plus. Emilio let her drag him to the different bear habitats, listened to her talk about them. There was a lot in the zoo; more than he’d been expecting. By the time they finally settled down on a bench with a good view of both the still-empty polar bear enclosure and the penguins he’d found himself fascinated by, his leg ached enough that he knew he’d pay for it later. But it was worth it, he thought. Nora was in a good mood, and Emilio would have been lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed the adventure through the zoo, too.

Just maybe not enough to bend to the ‘steal a pair of penguins’ plan.

“I don’t think we have any place cold enough,” he insisted, still staring into the penguins’ enclosure as they flopped around. One of them was leading a chick up a hill so they could slide down it from the top. Emilio found it hard to look away. “And I don’t think they’d be happy in my bathtub. Pretty sure there’s mold in there. Look how much room they have here, kid. How are we going to give them all that?” Some things, he thought, were better off away from him. Penguins. Kids.

Nora shifted beside him, and Emilio craned his neck to look back at her. He spotted what had captured her attention immediately. The trainer in the bear’s cage. The door opening. The investigation was finished now, and they’d come out on top. The police hadn’t been able to disprove their evidence, and the right person would be stuck in a cage while the innocent bear would go back to its life. Emilio smiled faintly. “We did that,” he corrected Nora, patting her arm fondly. “Couldn’t have done it without you, kid.” If not for her, he wouldn’t have taken the case to begin with. And he was glad she’d talked him into it. He rarely got to feel good after a case. In Wicked’s Rest, most of them were doom and gloom, telling people he’d found their missing loved ones in pieces or providing them with evidence of some affair that would win them their divorce hearing. This was different. This felt good. He could stand to feel good a little more often.

He followed Nora over to the edge of the glass, let her rope him into a photo session. He even managed a small smile for the picture, and it was genuine. Today was a good day, a win on the scoreboard for Axis Investigations. There was nothing wrong with enjoying those when they found them.

Looking down at his phone as it dinged, he saved the photo Nora sent him and nodded. “Yeah, all right,” he agreed. Shoving a hand into his pocket, he emerged with a wallet. “She gave me this,” he informed Nora. “Saw a gift shop on my way in. Let’s swing by, get her a t-shirt. Think they had stuffed bears, too. Might help you brighten up that crypt of yours.” Knocking his shoulder into hers, he started that way. Something to remember the day by, he thought, wouldn’t be a bad thing. Not at all.

#chatzy #chatzy: emilio #psych

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marie-swriting · 1 year ago

Text

Everything Will Be Okay - Emily Prentiss [1/2]

Masterlist

Speak Now TV Masterlist

Part two

Part one - two (French version)

Summary : When Emily hears Ian Doyle escaped, she knows she has to do whatever she can to protect you from getting hurt, even if it means breaking you heart.

Warnings : start during 6x13 and finishes during 6x18, character death (not reader), angst, break up, sad ending, funeral, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 3.7k

Song Inspiration : Last Kiss (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift

“Ian Doyle vanished from prison. Interpol can’t find him”

Sean’s sentence resonates in Emily’s ears. She can’t believe it. Ian Doyle was supposed to be a part of her past. His name was supposed to only be a memory.

“What are you saying?”

“He’s off the grid, Emily.”

“Do you think he’s heading here ?” Emily asks before marking a pause. “Am I in danger?”

“We all are.”

Worry makes its way onto Emily’s face as she understands the gravity of the situation. It’s only a matter of time before everything goes down, she’s aware of it. She has to think of what she has to do to protect herself.

Her thoughts are cut off by the ringing of her phone. She takes her eyes off of Sean and takes out her phone. As soon as she sees your name and your picture on the screen, she softens before reality hits her. She has to protect you, too. Ian Doyle could go after you to get her back. She clears her throat then answers, taking a natural tone.

“Hey, Y/N, everything okay?”

“Hey, Em’, I’m calling to know if I should wait for you tonight or if you come home late.” you explain. Emily can hear you’re getting in your car.

“I have some paperwork to do. I don’t think I’ll be sleeping at home. I have some stuff to handle with the team.”

“Oh, okay.” you say, trying to hide your disappointment. “Keep me updated. I miss you.”

“Miss you too.”

On these words, you hang up. Emily looks at her screen for a few seconds before talking with Sean about the information Interpol has on Ian’s escape. While listening to him, her brain is working at speed light, searching for every plan to stop Doyle and to protect her loved ones.

After she leaves her former colleague, Emily spends the night at a hotel. She has to be alone to think. She has to think of a solution so you can be safe and sound. The problem is, she can’t tell you about Doyle. She has to get you far away without you knowing the truth. Emily comes to the sad conclusion she has to break your heart - and by extent, her own. She’d rather leave with a broken heart and see you breathing than keeping you close to her and seeing you die by Doyle’s hands. She can’t take the risk. She has to break up with you.

The next day, Emily wakes up with difficulty. Her sleep wasn’t relaxing, she couldn’t stop thinking about what she could tell you.

She goes to your shared apartment when she knows you left for work, wanting to avoid you until you come back home in the evening. Whilst waiting for you, Emily packs some bags.

Once you walk through the door, Emily’s face becomes neutral. She has to show no emotion. She absolutely can’t let her emotions speak. She knows what she has to do. With a big smile on your face, you walk toward Emily, ready to take her in your arms. Nonetheless, once you see her emotionless face, your eyebrows furrow.

“Em’, is everything okay?” you question, putting down your purse.

“We have to talk, Y/N.”

“About what?”

“I think we should stop.” Emily bluntly announces and you need a few seconds to answer.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s no use to stay together. Lately, I’ve been pretty busy with my job. Besides, I’ll never be able to give you the life you deserve. It’s better for everyone.”

“W-what? You can’t be serious! Emily, where is all of this coming from?”

“I’m just stating a fact. I’m almost always away, we’re wasting our time.”

“Okay, you’re often away but we are not wasting our time. Our relationship is working just fine. We have a balance. Why do you want to throw everything away now?” you ask, confused and with teary eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about this for quite some time now.”

“But everything was fine between us. I mean, that’s what I thought at least. Did I do something?”

“It’s no one’s fault, it’s just what’s best to do.” she affirms looking you right in your eyes.

“According to who?”

“Y/N, we knew very well this relationship was doomed. It wasn’t meant to last. Not when I have this job.”

“JJ makes it work.”

“It’s not the same. My decision is made anyway.”

“So you’re not even gonna try to talk about it? To fix the problem? You’re giving up this quickly?”

Emily knows you’re not going to give up. She can see on your face that you’re determined in spite of the tears in your eyes. Emily takes a deep breath before saying the most difficult sentence she’s ever had to say.

“I don’t love you anymore, Y/N. You’re a good person, I just don’t have feelings for you any longer.”

“It sure as hell didn’t feel like that this past few weeks.” you contradict, in disbelief.

“I tried to have feelings for you again but it’s impossible.”

Your eyes analyse Emily, searching for proof that the words coming out of her mouth aren’t the truth. However, Emily did everything to be convincing ; you have to believe her harsh words. Once you understand you correctly heard what Emily told you, your tears start running down your face. You don’t pay attention to it, trying to find a solution to keep Emily near you. As Emily sees your heart breaking in front of her, because of her, she wants to admit the truth. Yet, she tells herself it’s the right thing to do.

“I… I’ll go to a hotel for the next few days. I’ll probably have a case during that time, it’ll give you enough time to pack your things.” Emily softly informs while taking her two bags.

Your eyes are wide open at her last sentence. Sure, you couldn’t expect to still live with her if you’re not together anymore yet you thought you’d talk about it to know if you were going to sell the apartment or who was going to keep it.

Emily feels bad about kicking you out but she knows she can’t let you have it. Doyle could find it with a simple research about Emily and she can’t take the risk of having him coming to your place while you still live here. She has to keep you as far away from her and your apartment as possible.

“Em’, please.”

Emily fights with herself when she hears you begging her. She doesn’t answer before walking past you and leaving your apartment. She holds back a sob until she gets in her car.

As for you, you stay on your feet, still in shock, your eyes staring at the door. You can’t believe your relationship with Emily is really over after five years. You never thought you’d ever hear those words. You never planned on her changing her mind. For you, she is - she was the love of your life. It looks like that's not the case for her.

One month has passed by since your break up. In a desperate attempt, you tried to contact her during the first couple of weeks without having an answer. It seems like she doesn’t miss you as much as you do. And you don’t know how to be something she misses. Therefore, reluctantly, you give up. You still can’t move on, you keep thinking about your relationship, searching for what you could have done differently to avoid this outcome.

You never imagined you’d end like this. You never imagined you wouldn’t know her routine anymore, where she is, what case she’s working on. You never thought you wouldn’t be holding her against you anymore. You never thought you’d have a last kiss.

You try to look happy even if deep down, you’re in this state of numbness. But it has to change, you have to learn to move on. For this, nothing is better than to hang out with friends.

You meet Penelope at a cafe not too far away from your place of work. Beside Rossi, Penelope is the one you’re the closest to from the team, you consider each other as sisters. Penelope was shocked once she heard about your break up and she tried to make Emily change her mind without any success.

As soon as you arrive at the cafe, Penelope takes you in her arms. You sigh in relief when you hold her against you. Her hugs have power, you’re sure of it. You sit down at a table after ordering. At first, your conversation is about random things - you hadn’t seen each other in a while so you’re making up for lost time. Then comes a moment when Penelope tells a fun story about the team which includes Emily; at the mention of your ex’s name, you look down, ignoring the pinch in your heart. Penelope stops laughing as soon as she sees your reaction.

“Oh, my God! I… I didn’t think… I shouldn’t have… I’m so sorry.” Penelope exclaims, embarrassed.

“It’s okay. It’s been a month, after all.” you reassure her with a fake smile.

“But still. You were together for a long time. It’s okay if it’s still painful.”

“I know. How is she?”

You can’t help it, you needed to ask this question, it was on your lips for a month. You need to know if what you think is true. Penelope takes a deep breath before replying.

“She doesn’t show anything yet I know she’s suffering as much as you. Sometimes, she keeps to herself a bit more. She seems more lost in her thoughts which is understandable considering the situation.”

“She’s the one who told me she didn’t love me anymore.” you drily retort. “Sorry, I didn’t say that for you to pick a side.” you correct with a guilty face. “I’m just still surprised by the way everything went down overnight.”

“You’ll find each other again. I’m sure of it.” she affirms, squeezing your hand.

“I don’t think so. She seems determined to stay away from me.”

“Y/N, the love you two shared can’t be lost. When the right moment comes, you’ll be together again and everything will be okay.”

You see on Penelope’s face, she’s firmly convinced by her words. She’s not saying them just to make you feel better, she’s sure she’s right. Yes, Penelope tends to see everything through rose-coloured glasses, but you need this bit of hope.

As soon as you come home, you put your purse down, next to the door then sit on your couch. You look at your apartment, indifferent. Despite all your efforts, you can’t feel at home. Home was your apartment with Emily. Home was Emily. But you don’t have Emily anymore and you never will.

You stand up from your couch and walk to the closet of your bedroom. You open it and take a box. You go sit on the floor then you search at the bottom of it for something specific. Once you find the frame, you turn it around to look at the picture.

This picture was taken two years ago, it was the beginning of July, you’re kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower.

You had gone on a trip in Paris - by some miracles, Emily had had two weeks off. You had a wonderful time in France. The highlight of this trip, according to you, was Emily speaking in French. You know she speaks numerous languages and you melt every single time you hear speaking in one of them. Yet, it’s not always so when you had the opportunity to hear her speaking in French for two whole weeks, you were over the moon.

One night, towards the end of your vacation, you stayed in your hotel room. Normally, you’d enjoy your evening by visiting Paris a bit more nevertheless that night, you were too tired to walk ten more steps.

You were sitting on your balcony, enjoying the Eiffel Tower being illuminated in the distance, and you were talking about your future. You were making different plans, thinking about what your life would look like in one year, five, ten, even thirty.

“I can’t wait to grow old with you.” Emily stated with a smile.

“Me too. You’d be beautiful with grey hair.” you said, stroking her hair.

“I don’t know.”

“Trust me, you will be.”

“And you’d look beautiful in a white dress.” she affirmed, looking deeply in your eyes.

“What?”

“We never really talked about it but I’d love for us to get married. Not now, don’t worry!” Emily specified as soon as she saw your eyes wide open. “I don’t have a ring and this is surely not my proposal but I can see us saying our vows and kissing in front of our loved ones.”

“I can see it, too. I’d love to marry you one day.” you admited, taking her hand in yours.

“Good, like this, I’ll be sure you won’t get rid of me.”

“Trust me, you’ll get sick of me before.” you laughed and Emily shook her head.

“Never. I love you too much to get tired of you.”

And on these words, you shared a languorous kiss full of love. You had never been more sure of your relationship than during that night. You knew it was made to last and you were looking forward to creating new moments as romantic as that one. Unfortunately, just like you had a last kiss, you had one last romantic moment. These instants are now only memories in a picture frame.

A few weeks later, while you have your nose in your work you get a call. You take your phone, wondering who could call you this late. Upon seeing JJ’s name, your stomach drops. She almost never calls you. If she does, something terrible must have happened. With apprehension, you pick up the call.

“JJ, what’s going on? Is Emily okay?”

“You have to come to the hospital right now. Emily is in surgery.” JJ informs with a shaky voice.

“What happened?” you ask, standing up.

“I’ll tell you at the hospital, it’s too long to do it through the phone. I’ll call you back if I have updates from the Doctors before you arrive.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes at most.”

You hang up and quickly get dressed before running to your car. On the way to the hospital, you’re controlled by anxiety. You’ve never driven this fast in your life. In your head, every scenario is happening, making you tear up. The lack of information from JJ doesn’t help to calm you down.

You run through the hospital, looking for Emily’s team. You find them sitting in a waiting room, a worried expression on their face. Hotch sees you arriving first and comes to meet you, JJ on his heels. Hotch keeps a cold head even if he can feel your stress in his soul. He invites you to go to a quieter place in the hospital while JJ grabs you a cup of water. When she gives it to you, Hotch is telling you about Doyle’s escape. As you listen to him, everything seems to make sense in your head.

You finally understand why Emily wanted to be away from you so suddenly, why she used such harsh words. She thought she was protecting you from Doyle by staying far away from you but in doing so, she didn’t think of protecting herself. Emily is in critical condition and you don’t know if you’ll ever have the opportunity of talking to her again, to hold her against you again.

As soon as you know the whole story, you go back to the team. Rossi informs you they haven’t received any updates yet. You sit down next to him and start biting your nails. You wait in agony for the Doctor who is probably going to tell you bad news.

You wish you were anywhere but here. You wish everything was a bad dream. You wish you were in your shared apartment with Emily, cuddling in your bed whilst the sun is rising in the sky like you used to do.

One morning, about a year after your trip to Paris, Emily had a day off, allowing you to sleep in. You had woken up first - something rare - and you were staring at her. Her face was completely relaxed whilst her right hand was on your hips. You don’t know how long you had stayed like this, you just wanted to enjoy Emily’s presence. At one point, Emily started to wake up and she smiled, noticing you had spent your time watching her.

“Have you been staring at me for a long time?”

“I don’t know.”

“Not creepy at all.” she joked, getting closer to you.

“It’s not a crime to admire my girlfriend!”

“We’ve arrested stalkers for less.”

“You’re gonna sleep on the couch.” you retorted with a fake angry face.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I missed you.” Emily suddenly stated

“I missed you too.”

“I hope we’ll always be able to wake up like this.”

“I’ll personally make sure that we do.” you affirmed before snuggling.

You raised your head toward Emily before kissing her. She kissed you back with passion and you spent most of the day in bed.

Now, you spend most of the evening in an uncomfortable hospital chair. You’re vacantly staring at the floor while thinking at several happy moments with Emily and telling yourself you’ll probably never have others.

JJ comes into the room, a serious expression on her face and red eyes. You don’t need for her to utter a word to understand what she’s about to say. However, you don’t want to believe it. Sure, you weren’t optimistic about Emily’s condition yet a part of you was hoping, praying for everything to be okay and to leave all of this behind you. Penelope whispers a desperate ‘no’ while you keep your gaze on JJ. She avoids your eyes when she pronounces the sentences you fear.

“She never made it off the table.”

Immediately, tears are streaming down your face. You loudly sob, shocked while Rossi leans in to hug you. You accept his embrace, shedding all your pain. You hear Spencer standing up but you don’t pay attention to him, trying to understand what just happened.

You thought your heart had broken when Emily broke up with you but you were wrong. This time, the pain in your chest is worse. You don’t even feel like your heart is breaking. Your heart stopped beating and it won’t beat ever again. How could it? You’ll never see Emily’s smile again, hear her laugh, touch her hand. She is dead and your heart left with her.

Emily’s funeral is a few days later. For the first time since the announcement of her death, you get ready. Unlike when you broke up where you felt numb to everything you were doing, you’re feeling every gesture you make. The pain isn’t only emotional, every one of your members is heavy and is hurting you.

Rossi is the one to pick you up. Since Emily’s death, he has been taking care of you. Rossi always considered Emily like his daughter and he immediately liked you when you and Emily got together. He hates seeing you so miserable, he wishes he could take away your pain and add it to his.

Watching the team carrying Emily’s coffin, your pain heightens. You can’t believe the woman you love is locked in this box. You can’t understand how your story ended like this.

You don’t listen to the priest, you keep your eyes on the white flowers that are on the coffin. If Emily could have seen this, she would have said it’s too solemn for her, you smile at that thought. Penelope holds your hand until you’re the first to put a red rose on the coffin, your cheeks wet with tears. You stay next to Emily whilst the team does just like you. Rossi puts a hand on your back to comfort you and you do everything to not break down in his arms. By some miracles, you stay on your feet whilst Emily's casket is going down.

When you come back home, you don’t have the strength to go to bed. You sit on the floor of your bedroom after you put on one of Emily’s tee shirts. You had accidentally put it in your boxes and as Emily never asked for it, you kept it. You bring the fabric to your nose, hoping to smell Emily’s scent but it’s already gone. New tears roll down your cheeks as you realise that soon, every trace of Emily will be gone forever. She will only be a part of your past.

During the whole day, your mind is plagued by memories with Emily. You mainly think about the end of your relationship. You think of every last moment you shared without knowing there will never be a new one. Had you known what was going to happen, you would have enjoyed them more and if you could, you’d change some of them like your last kiss.

It was during a morning, it was early - too early for you -, you had woken up after Emily. Your eyes were closing by themselves whilst you were going to the kitchen. You were making your coffee when Emily appeared in the room. You quickly smiled at her whilst she was telling you she quickly had to leave for work. She pecked your lips and you didn’t even take your time to properly kiss her back, still too asleep. She said ‘I love you’ before taking her bag and leaving your apartment. You had only mumbled an ‘I love you’ back, needing your coffee to talk properly.

You wish your last kiss was different. You wish you had kissed her with passion, enjoying the movement of her lips against yours and you wish you had distinctly said ‘I love you’. Unfortunately, you can’t change the past and you will never have a new opportunity. This kiss is doomed to be your last just like you’re doomed to live without Emily for the remainder of your days. And you’re doomed to have her name forever on your lips just like your last kiss. In the end, Penelope was wrong, it will not be okay.

Part two

Masterlist

Speak Now TV Masterlist

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