#and because of the novak family connection

[iwoulddieforher]

Rigid | Casey Novak × Alex Cabot

Author's Note: This got super out of hand with the length- I think this is the longest fanfiction I've ever written. Hope you enjoy it, though <3 ~16k+ words

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff. I like the idea of Alex being neurodivergent in some way, even if she doesn't know it herself, so some of her self-descriptions will come off that way.

Summary: Alex wants desperately to be able to relax like she sees her colleagues doing, and a night watching a coworker she has her eye on- Casey Novak- might present itself as the opportunity to get what she wants.

Porcelain dolls strung up by small transparent strings were significantly less rigid than Alex Cabot currently felt. How she usually felt, even.

High-class family, posh preparatory school, strategically made connections rather than real relationships were all she grew up knowing. Everything had a meaning, a purpose, a reason for why it was so, and that also applied to every detail of her appearance and demeanor must similarly be intentional. She grew up internalizing that, and thus, as an adult she utterly lacked the ability to let her spine curve into a natural slump, to lay in bed without wondering what it would look like to a non-existent observer, to kiss someone in a way that focused on the intimacy rather than the shifted facade that she displayed in order to appear desirable.

It felt inhuman. She really hated it. The feeling she coped with daily made her skin crawl as if it was begging to be torn off to reveal a real person behind it instead of the ever-complicating mask.

It was especially noticeable to her on days like these, where a high-profile case had just been absolutely devoured by her colleague, Casey Novak, so the squad room was positively thrumming with excitement and a collective sense of triumph. Olivia, the one Alex had made a habit of perching herself by, was currently at the corner store to pick up a bottle of something to share, so the attorney was standing almost aimlessly against the brunette detective's desk. Across the desk was Stabler, in his respective chair, looking up at Casey who had chosen to place herself on the edge of his desk. Munch was in his rolly-chair, with Tutuola leaning over the back of it, Cragen standing stiffly but not uncomfortably near the commotion like a proud father.

"And that absolutely little weasel of a man-" Casey chirps, as much as a voice as low as hers could sound like a chirp, interrupted by a bark of laughter from Stabler, "Sorry, that boot-licking short ass bottom-feeding rodent-"

"Casey!" Stabler admonished, although his eyes were shining with amusement, and the faux blonde woman laughed and swatted at him half-heartedly.

"Yes, okay, I'll mind my manners. The defense counselor, before the trial, told me that because I'm pretty if I want after the duration of court he'll give me some tips on improving- and now I won, and when he was walking out, I managed to shoot him a smile and say 'if you want any tips, just call Novak at the DA's office'- I thought he was going to deck me right there-"

Casey's storytelling is rewarded with a roar of laughter from the men, her face shining with victory and the aftereffects of a battle well fought, and Alex can't help but find her beautiful. Casey Novak was anything but rigid, and Alex wished she was more like that- even if Casey's temper did get her in trouble more frequently than one would wish.

"Okay, well, don't let your victory get you all haughty, I'm still going to kick your ass tonight." Stabler snorts, after the laughter had died down, which sends Casey into a refreshed cascade of giggles.

"You? Kick my ass? Oh, you wish."

"Wait," Alex cuts in, everyone's eyes flickering to her as if they were slightly off guard that she was still following the conversation, "what's this about kicking each other's asses?"

"I'm going to hand Stabler his balls on the softball field tonight-" Casey starts before Stabler swings at her playfully and she gets distracted by shooting him a playful warning look. Alex forgot how much they acted like siblings sometimes, but the way they seemed to bounce off each other and banter so smoothly made them seem like twins. She could very easily imagine them in early teens kicking each other under a dining room table.

"Recently we've all started getting together to play softball together," Stabler interjects, granting Alex a serious response, "after big cases on the weekends we get together with some other cops and some other lawyers at night. Good way to blow off steam if justice isn't served or good way to celebrate if we do."

“It used to be a big thing, there were inter-department tournaments at the DA’s office or whatever, but now us who liked it so much just play for the hell of it, and also against the cops.” Casey nods, finally done with Stabler after managing to flick him in the middle of the forehead with her finger, which he glares at her for.

"And us who don't play softball get drunk while watching 'em." Munch says, leaning back in his swivel, with Tutuola adding a nod from just above him.

Alex bit her tongue, blinking in mild surprise. Back before she had 'died', they had gone to bars together to celebrate such things, and she didn't know any of them had really had any penchant for sports outside of Stabler occasionally mentioning his daughter's soccer or basketball results. She certainly had no clue Casey was apparently formidable enough on a softball field to hold on against a built detective such as Stabler.

"Speaking of drunk, I'm back." Olivia announces, strolling into the precinct once more, finding her way to stand beside Alex while cradling two bottles of some discounted wine, holding one up as evidence.

"Oh I got the worst fucking hangover from that shit-" Fin fires off immediately, who then gets silenced by a snort from Olivia, and the warm atmosphere is immediately resumed, Novak and Stabler beginning to chatter about proper swinging technique and which one of them was doing it wrong while Munch, Benson, and Tutuola start arguing over alcohol. Alex felt rather out of place.

Tone switching over to something light and banter-y was usually a bit difficult for her after grueling caseloads, and today especially she was just done. She didn't want to leave, though, she didn't want to be alone or god forbid find company with other stiff-necked attorneys to chat with hollow words about unnecessary topics, but involving herself in this easy exchange- especially since she wasn't entirely sure if she was invited- was hard.

"Oh, how about you join us, Alex?" Olivia suddenly exits her own argument to turn towards the blonde, her face soft the way it usually was when it came to her. "I know it's not your type of thing, probably, but it would be nice to have you there."

Her voice is earnest, and Alex had been wishing someone would invite her to accompany the drinkers, so although she entertained the puppy-eyes Benson made at her for a few seconds longer than necessary she did ultimately accept.

"Does this mean we can put bottles of something more worth drinking on Cabot's platinum card?" Munch mutters, pushing his dark glasses up the bridge of his nose, and Alex snorts.

"Tough luck, but if we go to a bar after I'll carry a round."

Olivia's head whips around and stares pointedly at Casey, firing off a quick, "No tequila," to which Casey makes the most indignant face Alex could possibly imagine on the copper-headed woman.

"Hey, that was not my fault- and also only once-" Casey defends, and Stabler starts laughing, slapping his fist on the table.

"Do you remember the whole thing with that-"

"Yes," Casey snaps, "I'm sure mostly everyone does, and if they don't then-"

"Casey, Alex wouldn't know." Olivia says lightly, elbowing the mentioned blonde, "Come on, Alex, aren't you curious? We should retell this for your sake, right?"

Alex's icy blue eyes met Casey's dense green ones, and she was momentarily indecisive. She wasn't friends with Novak, and she wasn't going to pretend that she was, as much as she enjoyed watching the copper-headed attorney play with the coworkers she was genuinely close to. She wanted to know, but as soon as she saw the guard up in Casey's posture, the way that Alex's rigid demeanor was mirrored immediately by the younger woman, she faltered.

Alex was stiff. Her spine was held to an excessively intentional angle. Even though to everyone else she seemed almost as natural as the rest of them, learned iron in her veins commanded her to be a degree of rigidness that came close to robotic. And Casey was the farthest thing from imperceptive.

In the courtroom, it was necessary to shoot the same metaphorical bullet as the one that had been fired at you, and Casey did nothing short, her vertebrae stacking above one another as she readjusted herself, jaw growing more firm, her eyes flickering to become hard and sharp in a way that would almost seem predatory had it not been for Alex's recognition that this was entirely procedural for the younger attorney. Alex knew in her head too that if she was interacting with someone else like this, she'd have done the same thing.

Lawyers had a way of exchanging thoughts without verbalization, and Casey and Alex were currently having an odd back-and-forth that happened within a fraction of a second completely unbeknownst to the rest of the room. Casey registered the swirl of thoughts in Alex's mind and her inability to formulate a response in time to seem natural, and with the ball in her court, decided to give the blonde attorney an out.

"Okay, fine," she huffed, as though she was actually unwilling to share, despite the fact she was fully aware Alex would not have moved to force her to and she could easily tamp down or distract the eager detectives, "long story short, Olivia and I started fighting, and she made a jab about me no longer being white collar's youth prodigy, so I tried.. to prove how youthful I still was- er, still am."

Alex wrinkled the tip of her nose, pursing her lips to stop from laughing at that, and Casey twitched an eyebrow jokingly before shaking her head.

As soon as her head turned, the copper-headed attorney decided to release the inelastic facade she had just momentarily constructed, leaning backward once more. To the eye of the others, nothing that demanded the level of thought that had just been executed had come close to occurring.

The older attorney wasn't entirely sure how to reward Casey for her kindness in that exchange, but she felt like she should. She made a mental note that she owed Casey something- perhaps if the copper-headed woman snarked at her sometime in the future, she'd let it go without question, or some similar social grace. Her uncle has drilled in the 'advice' that one never forgets what they owe another, lest suddenly be surprised when the other expects to collect.

"She ended up kissing this random blonde woman who was going through a divorce." Munch supplied helpfully, who earned a glare from Casey in return, and the seconds returned to passing at a more natural rate rather than the slowed pace Alex had just felt like they moved in. The conversation was resumed.

"No, the bad part wasn't even that she made out with her, but the fact her flirting consisted entirely of legal jargon-" Olivia filled in, and Alex snorted softly as Casey's head whipped in the other direction to glare at her instead.

"Okay, okay, listen- first of all, she was not a random woman, her name was Jane and we did keep in contact for the duration of her vacation here-" Casey raised a finger, cutting Liv off, "and if you understood any sort of vocabulary past fifth grade, it would have made perfect sense to you."

Alex paused, deciding this was probably a point at which a response was required to reestablish her presence so she could stop relying on Olivia to make her involved, "Well, it does seem like a- ... youthful thing to do?"

Casey's jaw fell slightly agape, and then she closed it with a huff. "Okay, well. Olivia's just pissed because I can actually involve myself with women."

"I'm not gay!" The brunette protested indignantly, to which Casey and Elliot exchanged a look that read as what-is-she-on.

Olivia was silenced for a moment, bristling, before extending her arm to rest on Alex's. "Alex, help me out, us straight girls need to stick together with all this-"

"Straight?" Alex questioned, an uncomfortable chuckle in her throat, "Olivia, you didn't know I'm-?"

"What?!" Olivia cried, straightening immediately, not affronted but apparently incredibly surprised, which Alex internally sighed at, only to be distracted by a low whistle from Casey that she decided not to respond to.

Internally, Alex was grappling with the new information that Casey was sapphic. She was too, although she understood why Liv hadn't known, she wasn't super forthright with her identity- but Casey?

After a moment's contemplation, she realized that this actually made a lot of sense and she felt mildly stupid for not having realized on her own.

"Yeah," Stabler says after a pause, "I think this is our cue to get going to the softball diamond before Liv has her whole am-i-gay breakdown right here in the squad room."

The rag-tag group collectively nods, shuffling for possessions, with Olivia still apparently on edge and lost in an internal conversation with herself about the possibility of homosexuality. After a few more moments of collecting items or putting things into respective places, and after Casey pats Olivia sympathetically on the shoulder, they begin to head out to the parking lot.

Alex clicked the key to her Cadillac, briefly pausing to obtain the address of the sports place as well as a time, since a few people wanted to drop by home to discard professional belongings or change, and because a few members of the DA's teams were still in session, before studying the exits of her colleagues.

Tutuola and Munch separate to respective vehicles, with Olivia being given a ride by Stabler as usual, and Casey splitting off from the group entirely to unlock her bike. Cragen excuses himself with the explanation that he's not going to meet up with the rest of them, he doesn't play softball nor does he drink so he's spending a nice night in instead.

Everyone's method of transportation seemed in some way reflective of themselves. Munch's windows were so tinted Alex was vaguely concerned about the potential illegality of it and Fin's car is beat up in a way that shows he doesn't abide by the physics of curbs. Olivia and Elliot's carpooling constantly served as a testament to their bond as detectives, and Casey...

"I still can't believe you actually bike here every morning. While wearing the suit? Jesus." Stabler bantered, leaning on the hood of his own car while watching Casey fumble with the lock on her bike.

"Well," she replied in a curt rasp, straightening, "that's why my legs are toned and yours would snap under water pressure-" she stopped to point at him almost accusingly, "and don't get me started on cardiovascular health."

Olivia drags Elliot into his car before the two start bickering again, and that leaves Alex watching Casey out of the corner of her eye as the attorney fixes her bike locks to the luggage rack before swinging one leg over the seat and taking off, her chin nestled in her scarf, her mid-length hair swirling behind her.

For a second too long, she lingers, but then Alex climbs into her cold car, groaning slightly at the feeling of the stiff leather on her back, before driving without picking out a destination. She didn't have anything she felt uncomfortable leaving in her car, nor did she have anything to pick up, so going to her penthouse was somewhat pointless. However, with about an hour until the designated time, staring out the window at the city streets far below seemed more interesting than staring at said streets on the ground level while seated aimlessly in her car, so she went home.

The elevator opened directly into her apartment, so she needed to use her key in the elevator pad itself, and when she did and the doors opened she dropped her briefcase right next to the door- it fell exactly the same way it would've if she had intentionally placed it, which makes her mildly irritated.

She didn't bother to kick off her shoes, placing herself on the couch in her apartment, and staring blankly at the wall. Her spine was straight, her legs angled to the side in the way her mother had taught her to make them look longer, her hands folded in her lap. Her apartment felt desolate. Her skin crawled.

She tried to focus on something- anything, really, in her apartment- but all she was met with was cold, smooth marble that her eyes slid off of. Plaquettes held her accomplishments that suddenly felt utterly pointless, framed pictures of her family or college friends that seemed impersonal. She couldn't keep a plant alive and she had never actually gone decor shopping herself, so the place was devoid of color, only shades of grey.

Alex groaned and placed her hands over her eyes under her glasses, tilting her spine backward until it hit the back of the sofa. It felt wrong, everything felt wrong, and her skin felt like it was crawling, her bones turning and burning inside her like she imagined cement would feel. It was uncomfortable in a way that wasn't painful- but that didn't stop her from fixating on the discomfort immensely.

The attorney rolled to the side, swinging her heels up onto the couch, one hand cradling her head and the other reaching to tug off her glasses. Strangely, in the dim blue lighting of the sun setting behind heavy clouds, her mind shifted to the opposite of said cold color- it landed on the shade of Casey's hair.

In the DA's office or in court when they crossed paths, Casey was stiff in the way every lawyer Alex had ever encountered was. The degree of rigidness that was learned by years of constant practice of saying and acting exclusively in intentional ways. Still, though, her eyes were always warm, in a way lawyer's eyes seldom were. But when she relaxed, which she was able to do, unlike Alex, she was simultaneously the same and also a completely different person.

She'd be lying to say she didn't know Casey was athletic- despite her unaware that she played softball, or was to any degree interested in her own physique the way her exchanges with Stabler today suggested- Alex had let her eyes linger on the other woman's arms on occasion in warmer environments when the redhead rolled her sleeves up. Her mind constructed the image of running her finger along the toned curve of her forearm, up her arm, and towards the delicate curve of her neck. In her imagination, Casey's skin was warm, and it only warmed further at Alex's motion. When she met Casey's olive-colored eyes, she was already looking back at her, eyes only half-lidded.

She felt her own cheek flush in her palm, and she sat up, shaking off the thought, but the sensation of warmth in her cheeks and the imagined feeling in the pad of her fingertip was enough to pull her off the couch, to the bathroom, where she took off the makeup she had done for court, tugging her suit jacket off, fumbling off her belt.

She wanted out of the porcelain, out of her skin for a night. She had seen the way Casey's guard had flickered up when she had faced her in the squad room, holding a mirror to the rigid body across from her, and she wanted out. The solution to that was to try to force the stiffness out of her soul so Casey wouldn't have any such thing to mirror. She had a reputation to uphold with the rest of the squad, with Liv and with Stabler, but Casey was more perceptive than Liv was- at least when it came to her- and she felt as though she knew enough to play it safe while still getting what she wanted. It would be an issue if Liv or Stabler or any of the other detectives or such lost respect for her professional standing. She was diligent, and hardworking, and she valued that about herself immensely, and she was not about to make the mistake of letting that persona fumble for a night’s activity. But still, she wanted a night where her skin felt like it belonged to her. If Casey's eyes didn't harden when she looked at her, maybe that would be close enough.

Her formal attire was replaced quickly, boot cut jeans instead of her slacks and although she didn't remove her white blouse she layered it with a loose sweater. She ran her fingers through her hair, intentionally messing with it, before nodding with satisfaction at her now slightly more casual appearance. The collar of her blouse sticking up through the neckline of her sweater was enough to not shift the persona the detectives identified with her, but she decided it was enough. It was enough that her uncle would click his tongue at her for wearing jeans while around a colleague.

She then proceeded to sit almost aimlessly on her couch again, drumming her fingers on her lap while waiting for the time to elapse so she could go to the softball field without being the first one there. In her mind, she debated writing up some notes or preparing for a case in the coming week, but she knew if she went back into lawyer mode it would just be worse trying to shake it off again. Unfortunately for her, as a kid all her hobbies were dictated- fencing, equestrian, ballroom dance and such, and since she never really grew attached to any of them and then failed to procure a hobby or pastime in her adult life, she didn't have much else to do.

Her phone chimed and she picked it up, assuming it would be something idle or law-related, only to find a text from a number she recognized, her heart thrumming insistently when it realized whose message she was currently reading.

Casey Novak→ Hello Alex, this is Casey (Novak, the one you work with, in case you know another)

Casey Novak→ Apologies for jumping this on you, but any chance we could carpool tonight? My bike is having a technical issue I can't be bothered with fixing it currently.

She waited a couple seconds before answering with,

← Seems doable. Send me your address?

Casey responded to that within a minute and Alex exhaled, mentally registering where that was, before standing up. With the detour of picking up Casey as well as the fact it doesn't really matter if she's early now because she's accompanying a player, she feels soothed to leave soon.

← Would you find it alright if I came in about a half hour?

Casey Novak→ More than alright, you have my thanks

← I'm more than happy to help.

After a pause, the message goes on read, and Alex doesn't really know what she had expected as a response. Mildly discontented, she put her phone down.

If she wasn't about to be driving, she would drink a glass of wine, but alas that was quite literally the point so she could not indulge herself. She pondered briefly the logistics of getting drunk when she was at the softball diamond, but worst comes to worst she’d just have to taxi. And, she supposed, would have to take Casey also in said taxi.

She felt her jaw grow a bit firmer at the constant resurfacing of Casey Novak in the back of her mind. Alright, sure, now they actually had plans and she was picking her up, so it made sense. But still. It wasn't exactly unlike her to develop random infatuations, desires to knock people she admired and simultaneously was irritated by down a peg, god knows the mistake with Jim Steele- but… Casey seemed… different.

Her heart muttered that Casey seemed warm and alive and her skin seemed soft and she was entirely unlike anyone Alex had ever grown attached to, Casey was not a power play, Casey was not a mind game. Casey was Casey. Alex didn't really understand what that meant.

She clicked her tongue to herself and then decided that no, she would not pursue anything with Casey. She had been toying with the idea of making that dream of tracing up Casey’s forearms with her fingertips a reality, perhaps as a flirty joke she could pass off as drunken boldness. But now her heart started to fumble in her chest at the thought, and not only in a good way. She wasn't exactly sure why her mind was suddenly reeled in the polar opposite direction of what she had been fantasizing about only a couple of minutes ago, but now she felt mildly stressed. Her skin crept little patterns on her nerves like ants blacking out a lamp, eating through power cords.

Maybe the fact she didn't really understand Casey is what sent little alarm bells ringing in her mind. To pursue meant to trust and to trust meant she had to know it all. She felt like she knew essentially nothing.

Sometimes Alex really wished she was less self-aware. She analyzed every thought or feeling she had like it was someone else’s, and therefore frequently felt as though she was drowning in someone else’s brain when in reality she was still sitting on her couch in her apartment in her clothes in her- supposedly her- skin.

It was time to leave now, anyway, so she cut herself off from her own train of thoughts to stand, and collect some items in one of her more used purses in case alcohol was split, it got snatched, or some other random misfortune that may occur to a handbag. Once she was pleased with her level of preparation she double-checked the contents one last time- car keys, one of her more mildly used wallets, phone, power bank, medical emergency kit, a notepad, a block of sticky notes, her pager, and a pen. She pulled a scarf on as an afterthought, not entirely sure if the temperature would drop as it got dark out but decided not to take that risk.

With that, she left her penthouse, standing stiffly in the elevator on the way down, staring at herself in the reflective wall the metal box had. Hmm.

Within twenty minutes, and exactly on time to the thirty minutes she had offered Casey earlier, she was parked on the street outside Casey’s address, looking up at a rather elegant brownstone. Sometimes she mused to herself that the modern aesthetic of her apartment complex far outranked the sort of shabby, oftentimes falling apart older buildings, but this seemed.. it seemed vaguely Elysian. She approved of it.

← I’m outside

Casey Novak → I’m sorry, I’m running a little late. Would you like to come up? I’ll buzz you in.

← I can wait in my car, I don't want to intrude.

Casey Novak → I’ll feel better if you just come on in. I’m inviting you. Please.

Alex blinked at that message, slowly typing out,

← Okay, then. If you're sure.

She exited her car with a furrow in her brow, locking the vehicle, and then continuing the steps up to the doorbell placard, where she found Novak’s name printed in a thin, flat font. She pressed the small silver button next to it, making a mental note of the floor and roughly which door it should be based on doorbell placement. A startling buzzing sound went off that Alex was thankfully prepared for, and she pushed open the frankly unnecessary large wood door. She traveled up the steps, to the third floor, deciding that she should start exercising more often if going up only three floors already had her inhaling a bit sharper, and she didn't need to wander reading the names next to the ringers because Casey’s door was open ajar and she was peeking her eye through the crack.

Alex caught a glimpse of Casey’s smile through the small opening, before the copper-headed woman disappeared in a flash, waving Alex in. She did as instructed, closing the door behind her tentatively. Immediately, she could not see Casey in her own apartment.

“Sorry,” the woman called, “I decided I wanted to shower beforehand so I need to straighten my hair again. That's why it's taking me a minute. Just sit down wherever you like, I’ll be done in just a second.”

“You straighten your hair?” Alex asked curiously, standing awkwardly in the foyer. Although Casey had instructed her to sit, she couldn't imagine pulling a chair out anywhere or settling herself on the younger attorney’s couch.

Inhaling deeply, she resigned to studying Casey's apartment interior with interest.

The interior walls were a smooth ivory, the floorboards a dark wood that matched the accents- the window and door frames, the stairs. Casey’s apartment was a lot more vertical than her own- where Alex had half of a floor, so her apartment was wide horizontally as well as deep, the walls were only a couple of feet on each side in the entry hallway and Alex couldn't imagine the rooms being, well, anywhere as large as her’s. But somehow, the comparison did not change the charm of the apartment.

Perhaps that had something to do with the atmosphere. It smelled like sandalwood and caramel, and the walls were lined with memorabilia- which Alex considered briefly was strange, because Casey's desk and office were almost barren considering some of the other workstations she had seen. She skimmed over smiling faces, Casey with dozens of people she’d see in this photo and never again. Casey with a little girl propped up on her hip, holding a little boy by the hand on a beach, all three smiling at the camera, but in a way that made it seem like it was almost unintentional, like someone had captured a moment in a camera which usually only existed in fond memory. Casey kissing a man with short brown hair, her arms, which seemed slightly thinner in the photo than Alex had grown to know them, (although the woman was always slim,) wrapping around his shoulders. She looked younger, happy, smiling into the kiss, and he did too. Probably during college, Alex mused. Casey’s finger, resting lovingly on his shoulder, was adorned with a silver band. Alex blinked.

She chided herself to move on with her inspection. Whoever this person was, it didn't seem like they were still in her life, unless Casey had been cheating on him with ‘Jane’. Stabler didn't take well to cheaters, so Alex really doubted that. She wasn't sure what the thrum of her heart was meant for- so she just exhaled. She couldn't drag her eyes away from it, though.

When she inhaled again, she was greeted with the scent of whatever hair products Casey was currently employing. It dragged her out of her thoughts, and it made her twinge with guilt at the thought of analyzing Casey’s history through her personal pictures. Casey was kind enough to be undeserving of an inspection.

There was no door between the foyer and the kitchen, so Alex turned to focus on that instead, her blue eyes skimming over what appeared to be a sourdough starter. Music played quietly out of some surround sound speaker, somewhere, something idle, and indie.

The dark brown of the floor was complimented well by the constant appearance of plants- not flowers, but succulents or similar. Apparently, Casey was in the middle of repotting one, because the table had a large tray with items that would suggest that.

“Oh, sorry about that-” Casey mused, appearing suddenly next to her, “I was trying to swap out pots for that one- roots were getting too big, you know, but then I got buzzed for a warrant this morning and dropped it.”

She smelled really good, and Alex wasn't happy that that was the first thing she noticed, but she did. Casey’s perfume, which Alex had noted a couple of times in the DA’s office, had just been freshly reapplied, and her hair was perfect in a way that only lasted a couple of moments after styling it. She looked in a way that Alex could only describe as warm.

Casey was dressed in a blue softball jersey that had ‘Sex Crimes’ bolded on the front in a lacy font and tracksuit pants. The usual frustration carried in her eyes and eyebrows was gone entirely, replaced with lights of excitement that showed in the way she held her hands and smiled. She wasn't wearing any makeup, only a dark lip balm that Alex now wanted to know the brand of.

“And yes,” Casey said, replying to Alex’s comment from a moment ago, despite it having felt like an eternity since then to Alex, “I do have to straighten my hair. Not all of us can be blessed with locks like yours, Miss Cabot.”

Ignoring the teasing nature of her voice as she said Alex’s more formal name, the blonde still lifted her eyebrows as if pained and shot her a look. “Please never call me ‘Miss Cabot' again- It’s just Alex to you.”

“Alright, ‘just Alex’-” Casey said, with an amused huff, before turning and waving at her abode, “verdict? You seemed interested.”

“I-” Alex pursed her lips. Casey was not stupid. If she hadn't been interested, she would've sat down like Casey had initially instructed or been on her phone, or been staring off into space. “I like it. You have a very lovely apartment. It suits you.”

“Thank you.” Casey smiles, pleased, before glancing back down at the houseplant activity. “It would feel better if I had gotten to finish this, though. My mom insists I keep them all.”

“Why?”

“You know how in law school, you’d stay shut in all the time, sleep at horrible hours, and keep the blinds drawn? She bought me a million plants and kept making me show her they were still alive to make sure I was airing my dorm and letting sunlight in. And that I was looking up from my laptop at least for a minute a day.” Casey snorts, but she seems fond of my memory. “I guess she doesn't really insist I keep them anymore. She hasn't checked, anyway. But I got used to it. I swapped out her delicate plants for succulents, though, because I forget to water them sometimes. I’m not here very much.”

“Your mother seems like an attentive woman,” Alex comments, watching as Casey’s eyes grow momentarily heavy, staring still at the plant, before she blinked it off.

“I’ve been blessed,” she answers smoothly instead, “with a wonderful family.”

There's an awkward beat of hesitation, where neither knows what to say, before Casey exhales and forces a smile. “Have you eaten anything? If you're going to drink with Tutuola, you probably need something to eat. And I need to grab my gear and such. If we leave now, we’d still be significantly early.”

“I had breakfast-” Alex starts, before seeing Casey raise an eyebrow at her, “but it was a large one, Casey, I’m not trying to tear up your kitchen.”

“Sweet or savory?” Was the other woman’s only response as she strolled into her kitchen, opening cabinets and ruffling through items.

“I don't have the time to make you something properly right now, but God help it if I let you leave here without eating something.”

Alex stood uncomfortably in the doorway to the kitchen, a small unsure frown on her face, so Casey shot her a pointed look, walked over, grabbed her arm, lightly guided and then shoved her into a chair, and then went back to trying to find something to offer her.

“You seem,” Casey looked at her as if studying her brain through her skull, “as though you’d have a sweet tooth.”

“Why do you say that?” Alex looked at her, slightly indignant. Outside of being used as a method of intimidation, it was normally rude to brazenly note observations as such in the world she was used to. It was far more polite to make it sound as though it was a question.

But Casey just laughed softly, pulling a box out of the fridge and popping the lid. She fumbled with the contents for a few seconds. In the chair Casey had set her down in, Alex could not see what it was until Casey approached, holding a dessert fork in one hand with her other carrying a plate with a generous portion of red velvet cake.

“Fancy ass cake for a fancy ass lady. I made this yesterday, so I think it's still fine to serve you, even if the frosting set a bit more than I prefer. You don't have to eat it all, but I hope you at least try it.”

With that, and not even waiting for a thank you, Casey brushed past, going to collect her sports gear. Alex felt like her head was spinning slightly with the lack of normal procedure. She was being left alone to eat cake in Casey’s apartment? Wasn't the redhead worried she would- well, Casey had commented on the fact she knew Alex was borderline snooping, but to leave her alone after that? How trusting was she? Unless this was some sort of test.

Alex decided to proceed as if it were. What would Casey be testing? How much Alex trusted her? Maybe she thought Alex wouldn't eat food a stranger gave her, well- not entirely stranger, but still. But she couldn't fault her for that, could she? Regardless, Alex wasn't like that anyway. Maybe she was testing if Alex was too prudish to eat what she had provided. That sent a small jolt down her spine- she really didn't want Casey to think she was a snob- so she lifted the fork and in small, precise movements separated a small piece from the slice.

As soon as she felt it on her tongue, she immediately broke off a much larger portion to follow it with. Fuck. It was delicious.

Soft vanilla cream coated somehow equally soft red velvet generously, but not overwhelmingly, and once Alex separated off the middle she could see it was triple layered. The flavor was delicate, but in a way that made every taste bud in her mouth moan.

If she had to go celibate for the rest of her life to eat something like this again, she just might have to consider that. This was better than sex.

“Grandmother’s recipe,” Casey purred, reappearing with a large duffel slung over her shoulder, leaning in the doorway. “Well, not really, but it was one of the first things she made after she got access to the Internet and all the baking blogs one can find on there.”

Alex was physically startled, too engrossed in her eating to have realized Casey’s presence had reappeared. Casey easily could have murdered her while she was eating cake, and she wouldn't have looked up once.

She pushed the plate as if making to stand up, holding a hand in front of her mouth as her mother had taught her- it was impolite to see people see one chew, after all- but Casey shook her head quickly and took a seat next to her, leaning back, the duffel hitting the floor with a soft thud while Casey stretched out her arms, arched her spine languidly. Alex tried not to let her eyes linger on the soft amount of muscle coating her.

“By all means, I don't mean to interrupt your indulgence.”

Alex sheepishly turned back, pausing only for a fraction of a second before returning to shoveling the cake into her mouth as gracefully as she could. Casey looked very pleased, so that settled her nerves by a fraction. She couldn't and also wouldn't complain about Casey's bemused grin.

“It's- it’s just been a while since I’ve eaten anything this good.” Alex said after a swallow, straightening in her chair a little bit, looking at the remaining bites on her plate as if they were whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

“You look good like this,” Casey said, which Alex’s eyes widened at, blinking up from the cake to Casey, who strangely looked equally delicious, “you're normally so tense. Glad my baking can fix that.”

“I- uhm,”

Casey chuckled at Alex’s fluster, resting her head in her hand. “Just teasing you. But really, I am glad you're enjoying it.”

“How did you learn to bake like this?” Alex murmured, decided to switch tracks since she wasn't very sure what was happening.

The copper-headed woman only shrugged. “You learn in a family as large as mine. I mean, if both of my parents were busy, I’m not about to let all the younger ones go hungry because the older one decided to order something only for herself. And now all my nieces and nephews demand I make them sugary shit when I’m over, so my pastries are decent enough.”

In the back of her mind, Alex was now a bit upset that she couldn't cook. Casey’s reasoning that it was due to her family made sense, but it also twinged Alex’s mind that if her parents were busy and she had nothing to eat, they'd just call for the private chef to come up and make her something nutritious enough. When she was in college, on her allowance, she had just kept ordering delivery. Casey and her seemed to contrast each other notably in that way.

“How many siblings, if I may ask?”

“Four. I have an older sister, and then there was me, and then two twin brothers and my baby sister. Not that she’s much of a baby anymore- she graduated college last year- but still. She'll always be little to me.” Casey exhaled, evidently very fond, before glancing back up. “And you, Alex?”

“I’m- I’m an only child.” Alex said, after a second, and before she could stop herself, “they needed an heir.”

Casey paused, looking up at her thoughtfully, before nodding. “I wished I was an only child a lot growing up. It's different now that I have my own life and everything, but… mm. Families are complicated.”

Alex nodded sagely at that, finally finishing her cake, and then after a small pause asked, “Did you want your own?”

The second she said it, she felt like it was wrong. It was an intrusion, and she was already in Casey’s apartment in Casey’s chair eating Casey's food with Casey's utensils. She was overstepping everything, and she was asking something from Casey she could not possibly believe she was entitled to knowing, without giving her an out.

Casey froze, her eyes icing over. She stared at Alex for a long moment, who now was sure she had done something horribly wrong, but then Casey’s eyes shifted from blank shock to mildly upset.

“Sorry- yes, I did. It didn't work out that way.”

Alex swallowed, and realized this was a decisive moment. She had relaxed, and she had slipped up, and now Casey was rigid, and if she bounced back off of Casey and tensed, she’d never get what she wanted.

So then, biting back her nature and what she was taught to say in such situations, she said softly, “It didn't for me, either.”

The atmosphere shifted entirely, so much it seemed like the colors had changed spectrum. Alex was now used to how fast her colleague could run through emotions and facades, and although that familiarity was from the courtroom, Casey’s demeanor now changing into something almost like solidarity reminded her a lot of it. Casey dropped her momentary coldness as fast as Alex could put down her form, but unlike when Alex changed the face she wore in order to elicit the response she wanted, Casey seemed like she genuinely just had a change of emotion.

“You're still young, Casey,” Alex continued, encouraged by the attorney’s return to warmth, “it’ll happen.”

“Oh, please. Alex. You’re what- two years older than me?” Casey chided, her voice light. “And you're hot as hell, so I’m sure you have suitors.”

“Casey, have you looked in a mirror recently? If I have suitors, you must have a line from here to the DA’s office.”

“Oh, you charmer.” Casey scoffed, but Alex meant it. She slid her hand underneath the now empty plate, bringing it to the kitchen, before picking up her duffel once more. “And now you get to be my driver.”

“I’m honored,” Alex smoothly joked back, collecting her purse and standing up.

She glanced around Casey’s kitchen, then glanced around the foyer, one last time before she followed the redhead out of her apartment. She noted the shift of atmosphere the second she stepped over the doorstep, and internally found herself hoping it wasn’t the last time she was there.

A more sensible part of her brain reminded her just now that she had decided against pursuing Casey, so such thoughts were not worth lingering on. Another part of her brain indignantly riled that she could enter someone’s apartment without any sort of connotation. A third part of her brain wanted to reexamine the circumstances of the decision to blacklist Casey from the possible companion category, while a third sighed loudly and wished they would all shut up. A fourth part snarled that she was not going to allow herself to be vulnerable with this enigma- yes, despite her niceness and her willingness to provide her with cake she still didn't have any grasp on Casey's psyche, so that's what she was- until she had enough to cover her ass if something went wrong. A fifth part just wanted to see Casey smile at her in the kitchen like that again. The fifth part managed to distract most of the others with daydreams.

Casey understood that Alex was in thoughts, so she did nothing to compel a response, although Alex was sure she thought she was musing about family or law or such.

Nothing was said until they reached the front door of the building, which Casey opened and offered, and then resigned to follow Alex to where she had parked. She gave a low appreciative whistle when she climbed into the front passenger seat tugging her duffel down and into the legroom.

“Fuck. I knew from the outside you had a nice car, but… jesus christ, Alex.”

“What? Oh.” Alex glanced behind her as if only just now registering that. It was a nice car. Her Cadillac had been a birthday present from her uncle, especially because her Bentley was sold off after her death. “I- thank you. Well, only the best for you, right? Now that I’m your cabbie.”

She was rather pleased with the hints of a surprised blush forming on Casey's cheekbones. If Casey kept throwing out random compliments at her, she should return that, right?

“It's just because of my bike-…”

“Please. You’re so quick to dish out the teases until I do so?” Alex hummed, amused, and Casey only huffed in response, pointedly looking forward.

Alex set the softball arena as her navigation’s destination, and allows Casey on aux, the same melodious background sound filling the car speakers as they begin on their way. Being the driver is good. If she was the passenger, she’d be darting her eyes too constantly to look at Casey. Casey apparently does not have this struggle.

“So tell me, honestly,” Alex starts, to fill the silence with a topic she knows Casey will yap over, “between you and Stabler, who has the better swing?”

“Me,” Casey says, with absolutely no question in her voice. “Elliot is good- but he’s too used to his job. In softball, most of the swing is supposed to come from the rotation of the shoulders, not the movement of the arm. Elliot relies so much on the idea of punching he doesn't really get that. He tries to push his palms forward and pushes one shoulder down. Besides, I’ve been playing softball for a much longer time than him.”

“How long?” Alex asked, glancing over at her in the passenger seat. Casey was so forthcoming with information- well, yes, Alex had asked, but…

“Since my sophomore year of high school,” Casey answered, “There was this fight involving one of my little brothers and I- well, that's beside the point. Regardless, the coach took me aside the next day, said he’d never seen someone swing like that, and asked me to try out. I did, and that was that.”

Alex let out an exhale that felt like a soft laugh, so Casey quipped in response, “Have you ever played any sports?”

“Fencing,” Alex offered, “and equestrian, for a little.”

“Equestrian?” Casey perked up, “Wow, that's amazing. I’ve always wanted to try riding a horse.”

“I didn't really enjoy it much-” Alex looked over again, and she realized that was a mistake, because Casey was looking at her with such interest in her eyes that Alex felt as though she needed to run for the hills. “I- I… it just wasn't for me.”

“Why not? If I can ask.”

“My instructors had to scold me constantly for being too stiff,” Alex murmured, trying to make it sound lighthearted despite to some degree admitting the biggest self-struggle she had, “when you're on a horse, the horse has to be an extension of you, the same way when you hold a bat- actually, I’m not entirely sure of that, I’ve never played a ball-sport, but- when the muscles of the horse move, you need to adapt and move with it. Otherwise, the horse becomes vexed.”

“So young Alexandra was just being a vex to horses?” Casey chuckled, and Alex tilted her head at the jest.

“But if you tell anyone, they’d never believe you.”

“Oh trust me,” Casey snorted, “I’m not about to let other people know about baby Alex being a thorn in some training horse’s side. That’s something only I get to know.”

“Hey. You just used the adjective ‘young’, and now ‘baby’- am I regressing? And I was more a pain in their back rather than side, unless I very immensely misunderstood where you're supposed to ride horses.”

In reality, the small thrum in her heart that she now associated with the younger attorney was very pleased with the information Casey apparently felt territorial on information regarding her. She couldn't describe to herself why that made her happy, but it did.

“Sigh. ADAs and their technicalities,” Casey shook her head, “and no, I could never accuse you of regression. You only ascend.”

“Good. Quick study, Casey.” Alex purred, the words a bit too soft and a bit too smooth, although she hadn't really thought about it that way until she saw Casey shift and decided she was very pleased she had said it.

It was Casey’s turn to fall into a blushed silence, her eyes fixing suddenly very straight on the road, as if she had never seen New York City before. Alex felt victorious, and she basked in that feeling.

They arrived at the softball field shortly, and as soon as they pulled over in the dirt parking lot and Casey stepped out of the vehicle with her duffel she was essentially jumped by a collection of random people Alex believed she probably had seen previously in the DA’s office- other ADAs, a couple interns. They surrounded Casey eagerly, spouting game talk- apparently feeding Alex cake had delayed her arrival, and she was the last one, so they had been waiting for it. The copper-headed woman gave her an apologetic wave over the shoulder as she was yanked off, and Alex felt uncomfortable. She tried not to feel as though she had just been shunned. If she had spent less time in her intern years sucking up and networking with her uncle and her uncle’s friends, perhaps she would know some of them. Her career was jump-started, she did not have the bond the others seemed to share of watching each other pull themselves up the ladder- despite knowing logically some of them must have also come from nepotism, at least to some degree.

The softball field was fenced in by wired mesh, and ‘softball field’ was really the only way she could describe it, because it was nothing else. There were a couple of bleachers that reminded her of a cheap high school movie- her school had definitely never had anything like that- but otherwise, it was just a meshed-in square in the middle of a flat field, with a large brick box-like building on the side. She spotted Munch already seated on said bleacher, though, and although she didn't know him as well as she knew Olivia, who her mind had been looking for initially, she wandered over.

“Hey,” he greeted her on arrival, motioning to the place next to him, which she tentatively sat down on after her eyes skimmed it to ensure there wasn't a layer of filth (there was, but she ignored it) “Liv's trying to hype up Elliot. He really wants to get Casey back for the last match.”

“What happened in the last match?” Alex muttered, not especially interested but aware she was required to continue the conversation, inspecting the floor of the bleachers for a place to put her purse. She decided directly beneath her was probably the cleanest.

“She- well, nothing exactly. She’s just ridiculously good. Not many of the DA team have her skill, but so long as she’s there she continuously wipes the floor with ‘em. MVP, easy.”

Munch turns to her, almost accusingly. “Oh, you're rooting for that team, aren't you?”

Alex considered that for a moment, then, “I’m rooting for Casey.”

“But, team-wise, you're on our side?”

“I’m just rooting for Casey.”

Well, we had the whole gay talk in the squad room earlier, so-”

“Careful,” Alex chided, cutting him off with a harsh look in her marble blue eyes, “your boyfriend is here.”

Munch looked over with confusion, then saw Tutuola walking towards them, and shot Alex back a glare through his dark glasses. As if on cue, Olivia materialized and plopped herself down next to Alex, handing her a flask and wiping her mouth with the back of her palm indicative of the fact she had just taken a swallow. “El has been given the best pep talk I physically know how to give. If he doesn't win, I’m done showing up to these.”

“Alex is rooting for the enemy while drinking our alcohol,” John fired, but Alex turned to him and, apparently intimidated, he visibly backed off. Olivia just laughed.

Alex took a swig from Olivia’s flask, grimacing at the feeling of vodka burning down her throat, but she took a second swig almost immediately. She already felt uncomfortable, skin prickling and writhing, and being drunk would make it better.

The game began with little issue, and Casey had meant it when she said it wasn't a real tournament so much so as a large group of very competitive friends being cheered on by a large group of friendly drinkers.

She was bored until Casey took the batter’s stand. Alex had absolutely no clue how softball was played, but Casey looked perfect.

It was probably the alcohol talking. Between her and Olivia, they had made quick work of the flask, Liv because she had started to become anxious on Stabler’s behalf, and Alex because she was double-thinking her decision to show up. But if she hadn't shown up, she never would've gone to Casey’s, she never would've gotten that cake and she never would've seen the younger woman's reaction to being told she was good.

And God, Casey was good. Alex watched her sprint, the way she swung so relaxed but so intentionally, completely in her element. It was dark other than the stadium lights, which definitely were not up to standard, but when Alex caught a glimpse of Casey's eyes she could see very clearly the glint of fierce determination.

John Munch had been very correct that the DA’s team- Casey’s teammates, were not comparable to the copper-blonde’s skill. But to that matter, neither were most of the detectives. Alex noted the reality in the way that Stabler swung as if he was trying to hook something instead of swinging a bat- Casey was right- but he still did fairly well.

Not well enough to keep up with Casey.

Every time she hit the ball with a heavy ‘thwack’ that reverberated in Alex’s spine, every time she started darting, long legs stretching out to slide the last meter, the furrow in her brow, the light reflecting off her hair. Alex felt positively dizzy. That last part could very well be from Olivia’s vodka- or so she reminded herself.

She had tied her hair into a bun- Alex mused to herself it was unnecessary for her to have straightened it, then- but it bounced as she walked up to take- no, own the stand. Her lips were pressed into that thin line she made when she was concentrating in the courtroom and was similarly undeniably attractive here, except the corners of her mouth tugged up in a fierce smile. Her movements were fluid and Alex decided that if she would've done well in equestrian, with the way she moved- her intensity was elegant, her movements as refined as a swimmer’s. Alex felt her chest tighten and her heart pounding as she watched, feeling almost greedy for more sight of Casey.

Other than her, she was displeased with essentially everything else. The people next to her were becoming progressively more drunk and more rowdy, cheering and applauding and calling out encouragement or jests to active players, who would yell incoherently back at them. The bleachers had grit stuck in the groves in the aluminum and she mused to herself she’d need to get the pants she was wearing cleaned.

The game simultaneously lasted fucking forever and was much faster than Alex thought it would be. Casey's team won, so Alex had to deal with Olivia huffing and chastising the DA’s team next to her and John giving her a very pointed look, competitive in the way of the observer, that she returned coldly.

Casey didn't come around until the detectives were almost ready to go. Stabler had returned, clenching his jaw after trying to convince a couple people to do some more practice runs with him, and Olivia bolted to her feet to sympathetically pat him on the shoulder. Alex, after a fraction of a second, rose too, and followed. “I don't get how she does that,” He kept grumbling, and Alex had to agree- but her opinion of that was different.

Alex watched out of the corner of her eye as Casey bounced around- literally bounced around, some of the younger interns were literally jumping with the adrenaline and Casey was mimicking it for their benefit- and they hugged each other tight around the shoulders, fluid motions and hearty laughs, until their noses and cheeks were tinted pink with breathlessness. Casey was here celebrating a win- a double win, now- but apparently, some other girl on the team had just lost a major suit according to someone Alex had overheard on the bleachers and the DA’s team was clearly playing on the enthusiasm and adrenaline to cheer her up. Alex watched as Casey grabbed the other lawyer in a tight hug, then pressed a kiss to her cheek, and her stomach fluttered and she looked away very quickly. She hoped no one noticed.

She looked back in time, though, to see Casey shaking the woman off her arm, and that settled the unease in her bones quickly. The other woman held her hand for as long as possible, looking at her with eyes akin to a lost puppy, but Casey only flashed her a bright smile and kept walking, letting her arm fall loosely over to her side as she walked away. She quickened her pace of exit when she saw Alex looking in her direction, jogging over.

“So, Alex?”

“So yourself. You were fantastic.” Alex chimed, and even though Casey was sweaty and was coated in dirt from the floor of the field she extended an arm to give her a half-hug and Casey took it, resting her head on Alex’s shoulder for a moment before letting go.

The others in the group shared similar observations, albeit half-heartedly, while Casey just grinned apologetically at Stabler who stood staring at her blankly. After a moment, the two exchanged a very informal fist bump, and tension eased from Elliot’s broad shoulders.

They chatter about the game for a while, recounting moments of note or teammates that were new or actions that were game-changing, until it was randomly noticed they were the last ones outside, the other legal system workers apparently having moved on to their own after-party that Alex noted Casey apparently had turned down and the other detectives had sullenly collected belongings and dipped.

“So, McMullen’s?” Stabler muttered, “I could use a beer after all this.”

“That's the one all the way near the precinct,” Munch argued, but Alex interjected with, “Let's do it.” That place was familiar- she had grown accustomed to it, and selfishly it was also very close to her apartment. John was left alone in his argument and they all nodded, separating towards cars with the knowledge they’d meet up shortly.

“You may have to drive,” Alex murmured, “I’m above the legal limit. That okay?”

“I get to drive your fancy-ass car? Hell yeah!” Casey cheered, “That's a reward on its own. Come with me, though, I have to grab my things.”

There was a small building off to the side, big enough to serve its only purpose as being a locker room. There were two doors and no windows, effectively a brick block that had no aesthetical component at all, and the lights flickered on as Casey went into one of the doors and hit the light. It kept flickering, though.

Alex stood in the doorway for a second, wrinkling her nose at the smell of very heavy spray deodorant and sweat, but Casey was talking to her, so it felt rude to let the door close separating the two, and after a second Alex stepped in behind her and tugged the metal door closed behind her.

“Did you mean it, though? That in the fourth inning I-”

“Yes, Casey,” Alex interrupted her, “you played very well. I don't say things I don't genuinely stand behind.”

It was rather endearing that Casey wanted her verbal approval, despite the fact Alex was completely aware Casey knew she had played well. She had been getting a stream of compliments and attention from her peers. It made Alex salivate that Casey had chosen to ditch the girl who had reminded her of a dog to talk to her instead. Maybe that was the alcohol talking. Maybe she should keep reminding herself that it was the alcohol talking.

“Hold on- look away, I’m going to change really quickly, and then we can get going.”

Alex felt her cheeks grow warm but she obediently turned on her heel to face the metal door, hearing the tug of a zipper as Casey stripped off her pants, then the rustling of fabric as her shirt came off, and Alex ground her teeth against each other trying not to imagine what was directly behind her. Casey sighed deeply, and Alex bit into her cheek.

She stayed like that, staring bolts of lightning into the door, until she felt Casey tap her shoulder, relinquishing her of the obligation. “Alright. Car keys, counselor?”

Alex pawed them over from her pocket wordlessly and Casey offered her a confused smile but did not press the issue, letting herself out of the locker room and heading towards the car.

She had changed into a white polo shirt, the top two buttons missing to dip and show her distinct collarbones, the cut of the sleeves emphasizing the subtle but firm muscles of her forearms. Beneath it, she carried dark jeans with a leather belt. She hadn't removed her hair from the bun, even though several strands of hair had fallen out near the front, and Alex tried to fixate on the shape of said bun on the back of her head while following her towards her own car.

Her internal monologue was failing to come up with reasons why she shouldn't be allowed to touch Casey's shoulders just a little bit. She could see the groves of muscle through the polo shirt- a little bit, right? Just a little bit?

Alex turned the music up in the car when Casey put it back on so she wouldn't need to make shaky conversation, and Casey seemed content enough with that. The duffel bag had been discarded in the back, Alex now in the passenger with Casey in the driver.

“You seem happy,” Casey commented finally during a lapse in the music- a long outro, or a long intro- and Alex just smiled slyly back at her. She was.

The bar was wonderfully familiar. Alex followed Casey to the booth in the back, the one their group always frequented, and the others were already there, looking up from menus no one really needed because they'd been there so many times everyone already had a signature.

Alex ended in between Olivia and Casey, the brunette on her left towards the wall, and Casey in the gap between her and the end of the couch. Casey struggled slightly- the booth wasn't large enough to accommodate a group of six people, but Alex was more than happy that it forced Casey to try to curve into her side. She didn't move over, didn't try to shove herself against Olivia to make more room for the redhead. With one leg crossed over the other and her shoulder firmly on Alex's, though, Casey made due.

They chirp orders to a bartender who wanders over, Alex graciously agreeing to carry this first round as she had earlier mentioned. Stabler ordered a beer more expensive than the type he normally drank, and Casey shot him a pointed look. He looked mildly apologetic, and Casey rolled her eyes.

John and Fin quickly began chattering about things below Alex’s pay grade, so she turned her attention towards Olivia and Elliot, who were discussing an upcoming event at Stabler’s children’s high school- a fundraiser, or some other such thing- and Casey listened eagerly. Alex stayed mostly quiet, unaware of how to participate in a conversation about public schools and children.

Besides, she had a much larger problem to attend to.

Casey's arm had snuck around her waist and was currently resting on the slight ridge of her hip.

Logically, she could reason that it was because she was intentionally making it more difficult for Casey to sit comfortably, the younger attorney still awkwardly very close to the edge of the faux-leather booth, but still. Her thumb was resting directly on the iliac crest, and if Alex paid close attention it was almost as if Casey was moving it, the rest of her fingers snaking just below it, grasping at the fabric of Alex’s pants. Maybe this was her punishment for enjoying forcing Casey to wriggle and balance on the very end of the seat.

She opened her mouth to join the conversation, but Casey, as though experimenting, ran her thumb in a line across the jut of her hip bone and Alex stiffened on impulse. As soon as Casey felt her spine tense like that, she hastily let go. Alex wished she could ask her to leave her hand there, though.

Why are you thinking like that, she internally chastised herself, Alex, you don't- you said you wouldn't try to do anything with… but she’s pursuing you, now, isn't she?

“Yes, Alex?” Olivia asked with a note of confusion, and she realized she had made to speak and then lost herself in thought. She didn't really remember what she was going to say, though. Her jaw was still open, but she just snapped it shut and shook her head quickly with a ‘never mind’.

Casey's hand did not return for the rest of the hour or so spent chatting at the bar, despite Alex’s struggling attempts at manifesting. She was uncomfortable, now, not because of Casey, but because of Casey's absence. She was pressed so close to her side but somehow it felt as though Alex had messed up, prematurely rejected her, and that something would shift in the dynamic now. The itch and ache behind her skin got progressively worse as she tried to mask her anxiety behind the mask, when really all she wanted to do was talk to Casey. The copper-headed woman’s conversations always included either Olivia or Stabler or Munch, though, and there was never a moment in which Alex could separate her off to start a banter or a hushed conversation between the two of them alone. So, mostly, Alex just sat there, watching her coworkers indulge in the moment while feeling isolated and cold. Her spine was not able to relax after Casey’s hand had left.

She started to feel sick with the rigidness of her body. She wanted to peel it off.

“You seem distracted,” Casey murmured lightly, her breath warm over the side of Alex’s face, her mouth precariously close as she leaned her face towards the side of Alex’s jaw, speaking into her ear. Alex hadn't even realized she had moved.

She steeled her eyes and turned to stare at Casey coldly, almost as if trying to scare her off, a habit she regretted the second she realized what she was doing- I won't let you get this close, I'm warning you- it said, but Casey simultaneously picked up on it, picked up on her regret, and simply grinned at her. She seemed pleased, even, that she was eliciting a response. Alex fumed inside of her mind at the amount of control the redhead had attained over her in the span of a night that wasn't even over yet.

“I’m fine.” Alex said in a hushed whisper, “Just- just drunk.”

Casey provided a low hum in the back of her throat, placing her jaw on Alex’s shoulder, blinking up at her through slightly narrowed eyes.

“Aren't you, Casey?”

“I assumed I’d be driving. I had a beer, but that was around an hour ago, now.”

“Oh.” Alex shifted, her face heating up slightly, “You're taking me home?”

“Do you not want me to do that?”

“I- but, how would you get home from mine? I don't- I can't really give you my car-”

“I can walk from yours,” Casey responded easily, to which Alex shook her head quickly.

“God, Casey, I’m not letting you walk home alone in the middle of the night, just-”

“Are you two planning on leaving soon?” Olivia interrupted loudly, who had drunk a bit more than both of them and seemed irritated in the way drunk people were. “I cannot wait to get away from this guy here,” the brunette sighed, jabbing a thumb at Stabler, who stared at her incredulously. Like Casey, he had also refrained from drinking so he could drop Olivia and John off.

“Olivia, I’m driving you home, and I stand by what I said.”

“But that doesn't even make sense!” She scolded him, “Why is the plural of mouse mice and the plural of goose geese and the plural form of moose still moose? Who the hell has ever said ‘Oh yes, what a lovely pack of moose there in the distance’-”

“Liv, I didn't say it didn't make sense, I just said it wasn't relevant-”

“Excuse you. This is very relevant to my day-to-day life.”

They blinked at each other for a long, slow moment, and Alex decided she did in fact need to get away from them. But, as she reached for her purse to drop what she owed, shame bloomed suddenly in her heart. Fuck.

She groaned quietly, her index extending automatically to rub the base of her glabella, tilting her head backward and squeezing her eyes shut with frustration and also an unwillingness to share what she definitely needed to.

Her discontent at her mistake triggered something else in her stomach, and she felt the familiar sensation of everything inside of her moving uncomfortably, skin aching and turning. She felt like she was about to be scolded by her father- or worse, her uncle- for lacking composure, for forgetting to keep track of every minor detail and interaction held.

It was important to be on top of everything constantly- no, it was necessary. She needed to. It was drilled into her as much as her skin was part of her anatomy, and regardless of how stressed it made her, she needed it compulsively.

She wanted to be someone else, and now she'd have to pay the price for it.

“Alex?” Casey’s voice sounded mildly concerned, and Alex tried her best to hide the embarrassment in her voice when she turned to the redhead and conspiratorially muttered, “I forgot my purse.”

She knew exactly where it was- well, unless it had been stolen since then, but she knew where she had left it. Putting it directly beneath her on the aluminum bleachers of the softball field had not been a wise choice given the principle of ‘out of sight, out of mind' and her lusting after Casey and Casey’s ridiculously attractive shoulders had not helped to remind her to grab it before they left.

Luckily she always kept three hundred dollar bills in her phone case in case of an emergency, so she popped it open and removed one to cover the table, waving off the others who tried to offer her change and similarly dismissing people offering to cover her drinks the next time the group joined at a bar.

“Well, we’ll just go back for it, then.” Casey replied smoothly, and Alex thanked the heavens Casey had not taken this as an opportunity to try to tease her, because Alex genuinely would've gotten mad if she had.

“But that's- that's half an hour each way,” Alex sighed, “and I’ve had too much to drive, but I don't want to ask you too-”

“Extra time with you? I can't complain. Come, now.” Casey grinned, swiping at her shoulder gently the way she had with Elliot earlier, and Alex couldn't help but crack a weak smile and follow her and she made her way out of the bar, waving goodbyes to the others.

“I meant it, though,” Casey starts once they're outside of the building, “you did seem distant back there. Is everything… alright?”

“I-” Alex started without meaning to, clamping her jaw shut and watching Casey unlock her car so they could both climb in, Casey placing the duffel in the back again as prior.

She watched the younger attorney raise an eyebrow inquisitively, which she responded to with a loose sigh.

“Nothing.” She said blankly, and listened as Casey echoed her sigh.

Alex could see the gears churning in Casey's head as they both clambered into Alex’s Cadillac, Casey’s eyes roving over the interior with awe once more. The copper-headed woman wasn't verbally pushing her to explain her issue but Alex wasn't stupid enough to think Casey would let it drop. She briefly worried that Casey thought it was her fault, but if she did, maybe she wouldn't provoke an explanation, and Alex was okay with that. She didn't feel like she wanted to verbalize this discomfort with Casey.

This car drive was again quiet, but not because Alex was in a state of drunken content, but rather because Alex was fighting personal demons and Casey was trying very hard to run through every possible list of what could've upset the older attorney.

“It was just one of my mulberry set, so it doesn't matter that much if it's actually missing or if someone stole it.” Alex said finally, to fill the void of silence.

Casey squinted at her, trying to figure out if that was sarcasm, but it didn't seem to be.

“I’m not going to grant that a response,” she said finally. “You rich kids are something else.”

Alex thinned her lips into a straight line but didn't respond. Casey was right, of course, they had very different upbringings. That's why Casey's skin suited her body, and Alex’s was constantly irritating her.

Neither attorney tried to fill the void of silence after that, not even with music, Alex staring blankly out of the side window while Casey focused on the dark road in front of her. Alex had moved on from her demons to anxiously smoothing her thumb in little patterns on her wrist, very uncomfortable without a distinct reason. This wasn't really about the purse, to put it plainly.

After what felt like an eternity, Casey pulled over, and Alex stumbled out of the car. The place was utterly devoid of people, although the lights were still on for some reason, and it wasn't hard to spot the dot of her bag in the distance even with her glasses. There was a light behind the bleachers that illuminated the spaces between plates of metal and she could make out a shape that blocked out the light exactly where she had been sitting. Without checking to see if Casey was following, she set out, wincing at the feeling of gravel and damp dirt beneath her shoes.

She had picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder before she registered Casey’s presence again, behind her, and the attorney's voice was soft as she spoke.

“Put it back down, Alex, play ball with me.”

Alex froze.

“What?”

“Play ball with me,” Casey echoed, and when Alex turned around the copperhead was simply tossing the softball up and down in one hand without even looking at it. Casey’s eyes were instead fixated intently on her.

Alex shrugged her purse strap tighter to her side as if it were a life raft of sorts. “I don't play sports, Casey-” she tried, but Casey just shook her head slightly, the bun that had slowly been coming out over the duration of the evening bouncing along with the rotation of her head.

“Just catch it,” Casey soothed, “and if you really hate it we’ll go back to the car. Put your purse down- come off the bleachers, come over here.”

It was hard to disobey when Casey sounded so direct, so after a moment of hesitation and a minor internal thrashing Alex set her bag down once more and stepped off the bleachers, onto the grass where Casey was. She knew her face must be exerting a twisted, concerned expression, but although Casey’s eyes were soft they were also immensely firm. Determined.

“I don't know… how to catch a ball.” Alex said lamely, holding her hands out stiffly in front of her. She was rewarded for her confession with Casey’s chuckle.

“Don't think about it,” Casey said, “just focus on me. You’ll catch it.”

The redhead paused her casual toss-catch rhythm, cupping the ball in her palm and letting her arm hang down by her side. She smiled reassuringly at Alex, who hadn't felt nervous like this since grade school.

“You've been doing fine focusing on me tonight,” Casey teased, after Alex hadn't answered, and Alex flushed, “so- should be doable. Ready?”

Alex wanted to curl into a ball and hide, honestly, so no, she wasn't ready. Straight spine, stiff shoulders, her head feeling like it was propped up on a pedestal rather than a neck. Her hands still were held loosely in front of her, as though someone was passing her a wine glass to nurse rather than a ball to catch, and her feet were right beside each other in the ‘natural’ resting position for her- which had been very unnaturally taught, and then forced, until young Alex did not automatically stand any other way. Casey’s brow quirked as if this was amusing to her.

The blonde’s brow furrowed in anxious concentration, and she took a quick breath, trying to focus on Casey as the redhead had so advised. And despite her teasing tone, she had been right, it was easy for Alex to focus on her.

It was really dark out, now, so Alex could only see the parts of Casey that were illuminated by the overhead beam, but it was angled in a way that she could still see most of her. Casey’s eyes were teasing but attentive, and her posture was entirely relaxed. She didn't look like she had when she was actually playing, which relieved Alex immensely.

When Casey had been playing, she had seemed athletic and agile, with muscles that rippled under her skin the way that a leopard’s might as it pounced. Now, more similarly to her courtroom appearances, her arms had relaxed back into how they normally appeared- although they always looked wonderfully lean- only slightly more built than the average woman’s. Her fingers were lithe as they wrapped around the softball she held, a degree of comfort interacting with the object that read easily as years of experience. Alex tried not to note the details of how the white polo shirt clung and accentuated her bust, or the curve of her waist. Casey’s stance- leaning slightly, more weight on one leg than the other casually, did not help Alex scrape her eyes off of her figure. She felt herself relax, slightly, drawn in by the details of the other woman’s form. She supposed it was easy to stop paying so much attention to herself and everything that was right or wrong in herself and her posture when she was given permission to study someone as- well, frankly, hot- as Casey.

“I’m ready,” Alex said after a long pause, running her tongue over her dry bottom lip to ease the nerves. She wasn't sure what prompted her to say it.

Casey eased her arm in a low arc, passing it once, then twice, the arc getting larger each time, before curling her fingers around the ball as she let it go in a firm underhand toss. Trained as she was, it flew in a bow formation, slow and controlled as it made its way directly towards Alex, who caught it instinctively, trapping it between her two palms.

She looked up at Casey with eyes as concerned as if she was carrying a grenade, and Casey laughed, her hands on her knees, evidently pleased.

“Good! Go on, throw it back to me.”

Alex’s nose scrunched up with focus as she tried to recreate the same motion Casey had done, her limbs feeling weird and disjointed, stiff and loose, unlike the fluid motion Casey had produced. But regardless, she threw it.

Casey catching it was entirely due to the redhead’s own ability, because unlike when Alex had caught it due to Casey’s precise aim, Alex had no clue how to direct the ball properly, and it fell short by about a meter, which was anticipated the second the ball left her hand by Casey who scrambled to get it, achieving the fear with only a mild degree of difficulty.

“You did it!” She cheered, bouncing with excitement the way she had when she had won the softball match hours prior, and Alex couldn't help but acknowledge her enthusiasm as very infectious. A small, genuine yet shy smile played on her lips and Casey darted backward again, taking her stance to throw it once more, which Alex did not move to protest.

Unlike last time, when Alex had caught it very close to her chest, the blonde with some degree of determination reached her arms slightly higher, managing to catch it while it was still in the air above her. She still used both hands, but it was a stark degree of progress.

Alex's face split open into a grin of genuine emotion, now, a smile that awkwardly expressed the strange pride she felt at managing the relatively very simple task, and without hesitation she threw it back to Casey, using enough force this time- correcting her precious mistake- so the ball was easily once again resting in Casey's hand.

“Look at you go,” Casey beamed, the corners of her eyes angling with the intensity of the smile she flashed Alex with, “now, this one’s harder, okay?”

This time, Casey threw it overhead, albeit still much gentler than she normally would. Her previous throws were meant to land directly at Alex’s stand, but this one aimed for a foot or so behind her. The blonde, however, had seemingly gained enough understanding of the ball’s arch to realize, hastily taking a few steps backward to once again encase it.

Alex mused to herself that she felt as though she was getting the hang of this, so she returned the ball once more, still using underhand, watching as Casey bounced backward twice to give them more distance. She threw it, and Alex realized it was flying too far to the side, and she scrambled in that direction, bending down strangely but managing to catch the softball before it hit the floor.

She looked up with a very sheepish expression, but was rewarded with the sight of Casey smiling as if it were Christmas morning, and she relaxed, standing up. Casey had apparently taken a few more long strides backwards, away from her.

“I can't throw that far, come closer.” She called, but Casey shook her head.

“You can make it to me- try out throwing overhead.” Casey urged, “And if it falls short, I’ll run and get it anyway.”

Alex stood, awkwardly still for a long second, staring at Casey, who just kept her bright smile. After a second, she glanced at the ball in her hand, and, mimicking Casey’s movement once again, extended one arm behind her slightly, rotating her torso, and then shot it forward, leaning forward into her swing.

Although she stumbled, looking up prematurely to see if the throw would arc the way she had wanted it to, it did fly almost all the way to the other attorney, who easily lifted a singular hand to catch it in her palm.

This time, Casey did not wait for Alex to recompose before swinging- and she did it differently, this time, lifting a leg to fire the ball at her the way she had during softball except with a bit less force. Enough force, though, that although Alex again scrambled for it, the softball flew too far to the side and the blonde woman ended up on her knees in the shortly clipped grass. She turned her head to stare indignantly at her companion, who just poked the tip of her tongue out of her mouth nonchalantly and motioned for Alex to go fetch.

She would never do anything so.. unpretentious. However, with Casey patiently grinning at her, Alex sighed, standing, brushing off her knees quickly, and then briskly pacing to retrieve the ball, which had landed only a few meters to her side.

“Are we done, counselor?” Novak called from her place a ways away, and Alex raised her eyebrow at the other woman incredulously.

“After that?” She scoffed, and threw the ball again more forcefully, purposely not really aiming at Casey who thus had to hasten towards it, reading its path but still needing to scurry multiple meters, catching it but only just barely. Alex refused to note how elegant the motion was, despite how awkward it really should've seemed.

Alex did not have the time to further study Casey’s elegance because the redhead was already firing back at her, one leg raised high at the knee as prior, and that only really made her understand how attractive Casey’s legs were- her undivided attention to the attorney’s arms had made her miss out on something else equally appealing.

This time Casey was gracious enough to aim at her once more, and Alex caught it, each grab easier than the previous.

They repeated this exchange, Casey’s throws were much smoother and intentional, except she kept occasionally throwing slightly higher or lower or to either side to force Alex to move herself. Alex occasionally missed her grab or not being able to close the distance in time, which only fueled her play intensity when she returned the ball. Alex’s throws were mostly loose, but for the most part, they went far enough, and Casey was more than happy to scramble for them, ending up on her knees multiple times but never failing to catch it firmly.

Casey had started laughing, at some point, delighted to be playing no matter how bad her play partner was, and Alex hadn't even realized when her grin became permanent and her exhales started to sound like breathless giggles.

Eventually, Alex’s breathing started coming faster, and there was a thrum in her heart unrelated to Casey, and said woman realized the blonde was starting to get tired. She stopped the back and forth once the ball returned to her palm, choosing instead to jog over.

“Let's try something- hold this.” She murmured, tossing the ball into the air, which Alex now easily and casually managed to snag.

She reached over and adjusted Alex’s position, smooth hands gliding to shape the rotation of the older woman’s shoulders, lightly pressing to move her hips, gliding across her arms to rearrange the assortment of limbs.

She then turned to stand beside her, mirroring the posture she had just moved Alex into, looking at her with a sly grin. “Now, when you throw, I want you to curve like this-” she demonstrated, her motions causing the fabric to ruffle, her shirt rising up slightly at the hem to tease Alex with a thin strip of the woman’s abdomen, “and raise your leg like this, and then,-” she made a hushed whooshing sound, a cartoonist version of a ball being thrown.

Alex nodded obediently, starting to prepare herself before Casey shook her head quickly. “Give me a headstart- I go on two, and you go on zero. Okay?”

The blonde was now mildly confused on what Casey was attempting, but regardless nodded, frozen in the position Casey had sculpted.

“Five, four, three..” Casey counted down, slowly creeping her body down into a low lunge, “two-!” she bolted forward, and then Alex understood, mentally counting down the last two numbers before flinging the ball as hard as she physically was able to.

She was then content to straighten out, catching her breath, while watching Casey sprint after it. Her strides were so long and so light Alex wasn't sure she was even really touching the ground. With the movement, her ever-loosening bun snapped open, and auburn hair flowed as if cascading behind her, and Alex's breath caught still in her lungs.

Even though the ball did manage to outfly her sprint, she was damn near close when she dove for it, sliding on one knee to retrieve it, skidding to a halt a little ways away from where she had initially landed. She jumped up, shook herself off, and then jogged back, a breathless grin on her face.

“I thought I had it,” she panted, “I’ve always wanted to try doing that.”

The copper-headed woman proceeded to flop down on the grass, rolling so she was lying on her back looking up at Alex who was still breathing with a little more labor than she’d like to admit from their previous shenanigans. After a second, Alex carefully sat down next to her, near but not close enough to be on her loose hair by accident.

“You were very close,” Alex agreed, eyes never leaving Casey’s enthusiastic ones. “I didn't know people could be that fast.”

After a brief second, she reached out and rested her hand on the front of Casey’s shoulder, who blinked up at her. It was a reassurance that Alex’s earlier silence wasn't her fault, Alex tried to convey, that Casey had done nothing wrong and everything right.

Casey sat up to look at Alex more directly, but she raised a hand to keep Alex’s fingers resting on the flat of her chest and an inch below her collarbone. Her face was close to Alex’s leaning forward so boldly Alex almost thought to lean back.

“You look good like this,” She cooed so lightly it was almost smug, almost victorious, “you’re normally so rigid, so overtly mannered.”

It was then that Alex realized she had not registered anything of herself outside of trying to figure out how to position her arm to throw better for the past while.

Nothing had seemed to exist outside of Casey laughing gleefully across the field, bouncing from one foot to the other while waiting for her to launch her softball back to her- as much as Alex could launch it- and as soon as the ball had left her hands, the only thing she thought of was the sight of Casey running to snatch it midair, her hand itching to feel the leather again so she could try again, see if she could throw it farther, and more forcefully.

See if she could make Casey laugh harder, the giddy sound almost echoing in the night, filling the void and almost creepy vacant softball field with audio so genuine it made Alex’s heart flutter. See if she could elicit another called praise, or another witty comment from the woman she had been eyeing so intently.

Her limbs and joints felt loose but connected, blood racing through her veins happily as if finally allowed to dart around her body, resurfacing energy and releasing dopamine in a way she hadn't felt in what must now be years. Her bones felt as light as a bird’s, and her skin was so enthusiastic at the play it nestled onto her body like a puzzle piece that finally clicked into place, and even now that she was finished, it felt like her own. For once, Alex had earned the right to feel comfortable in her own skin.

She hadn't cared to ponder what she must look like, in a blouse layered by a sweater in a field with her glasses, tripping over herself to try to play ball with a woman who could pass as a semi-professional athlete. Her chest must be heaving in an effort to catch her breath, her lungs entirely unused to anything more strenuous than stairs, her legs long but her ability to use them only equivalent to a fawn’s. But whenever she had caught Casey's playful eyes, they looked at her like her stumbling self was a million bucks, and that was enough for her.

This was enough for her. Her goal for the night had been realized in full.

“What are you thinking about, counselor?” Casey breathed, and Alex realized she had leaned even closer, dark green eyes searching her’s as if she could read words in Alex’s pupils.

Alex almost thought she was assuming something until she caught the microaction of Casey’s eyes darting to her lips, before glancing up a fraction of a second later with a hint of shyness in her expression- something Alex had never seen, but certainly wasn't complaining about- and Alex was more than happy to indulge her, seeing as how Casey had spent the last hour trying to ensure Alex could ease some of the rigidness from her soul.

She left the hand Casey had touched on her collar, but brought her other hand up to cradle the back of the redhead’s skull, closing the small gap between their faces, and pressing her lips gently against the other woman’s.

Casey let out a small, whimpered sound, and Alex tried to let her go, only to be tugged back with ferocious intensity.

The younger woman pushed her into a more structured sitting position, one leg swinging over Alex’s lap to straddle her hips, Casey’s hands cupping the sides of Alex’s neck, one thumb on her jaw. Her lips were so soft, but so exhilarating, Alex felt as though she could melt, Casey pulling them apart every couple seconds just to come back closer a second later. Due to the nature of their position, Alex had to crane her neck to angle her face up at her, the column of her throat exposed, and Casey was clearly thrilled, her hands exploring her jaw and below it, soft touches that felt rather greedy.

Alex was finally able to take what she had been fantasizing about- when Casey pulled them apart for a second, panting for breath much harsher than she ever had while exercising, she untangled her hand from the auburn locks she had grasped and ran her hand instead down Casey’s shoulder blade, reveling in the feeling of the soft muscles and the small noise Casey made when she did so, catching the woman’s mouth once more to swallow the sounds she made as her hands both moved to smooth over Casey’s biceps, her triceps, her forearms, and then back up again.

“Alex,” Casey breathed into her mouth, before Alex shifted, pressing her back into her lips, to which Casey had no protest. The copper-headed woman’s hands stopped so much exploring as they did holding for support, and Alex mused to herself- the first coherent thought to break through the haze of bliss she had found herself in- that Casey must have thought she’d be the one to have the other squirming. The thought amused her, and only compelled her to continue feeling her up.

“Alex-,” Casey was whining now, Alex’s hand slipping behind her lithe figure to her shoulder blades again, running her fingers down savoringly before turning her attention to her ribs, using her thumbs to brush against her breast only slightly before moving down her to waist, utterly enraptured.

Alex bucked her hips, startling Casey as the blonde pushed her off entirely, and then kept pushing, rolling them over until Casey was flat on her back, and Alex was over her, her knees buried hard into the dirt to keep her above in a way that would've made her quite upset at the grass stains they’d be sporting later had she not been so enchanted by the feeling of Casey moving, Casey’s muscles bunching and twitching as she moved against her.

“Oh,” Casey gasped, and Alex paused, raising her hands to either side of Casey’s head so she could smile down at the woman whose cheeks were so red they almost matched her hair.

Her blonde hair fell to frame Casey’s face, who breathlessly tried to push it out of the way so she could see the triumphant gleam in Alex’s eyes, and then Casey propped herself up on her elbows to land a soft kiss on Alex’s grinning lips.

The normally overtly composed woman broke into a giddy laugh, sitting up, before rolling to the side so she could lay next to Casey in the dark grass. Casey snorted lightly at the sound of it, rolling to the side so she could study Alex’s gorgeous side profile as the woman looked up to the dark night sky above them.

“I guess this solves the issue of us going to separate apartments with only one car,” Casey breathed, and that just made Alex laugh harder, lulling her head to the side to meet Casey’s eyes and see her quiet smile.

All of Alex’s strings had been cut. Right now, she felt anything but stiff. Anything but rigid.

[piinksdoll]

→ [Victimology | Aaron Hotchner]

Pairing~ Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Bau!Reader

Genre~ fluff/angst

Word Count~ 2.4k

Warnings~ reader described with brunette hair and hazel eyes, typical criminal minds gore

a/n~ k this is the first part because it was just getting too long so there will be a part 2! probably will be posted tmr! also this is NOT proofread and written in 3 hours so bear with me

part 1! part 2!

(Y/N Pov)

Hotch called us into the briefing room for another case right before we were about to leave. “Ugh we were this close to a night in our own beds!” Garcia whined as we walked back into the bullpen. “Maybe next time.” I smiled at her sympathetically. I've been with the BAU for 10 months, although my time hasn't been long, I've found an amazing family. Hotch made me a permanent member just a few weeks ago and I could not be more happy, even with the late nights and crazy paperwork. “We have to get going, we'll be briefed on the jet.” I look up at Hotch as we are walking, there's an unfamiliar look in his eyes. A sudden feeling of uneasiness creeps into me. 

(Narrator Pov)

The team loads into the jet, Y/n and Hotch next to each other with Spencer and Derek across from them and the rest of the team on the couch beside the four seats. “Alright my crime fighting superheroes! This guy’s a doozy. You guys are heading to New York City where 3 women have been discovered dead each a week apart.” Y/n shakes her head “He's not wasting any time.” Derek nods “Yeah, what else have you got for us mama.” They look back to Garcia on the screen for more information. “Ok yes, the local PD have contacted the victims' families, Kimi Sulliven’s best friend, Alyssa Nguyen’s mother, and Jennie Novak’s parents are all waiting for you guys at the precinct.” Hotch nods at her words. “The victims were all dumped in parks with no visible marks, bruises, cuts or anything.” Spencer voices “Yeah so that's because the autopsy results showed they died from carbon monoxide poisoning. Although there was evidence of sexual assault.” Garcia hesitantly said not loving the graphic details. “Alright, Rossi, Prentiss head to the ME, Reid and I will start working on the geographic profile, JJ talk to the victims' families, Y/l/n and Morgan head to the last dump site see what you can find.” The team nods. 

(Y/n Pov)

I nod at Hotch’s words before looking at him once more. The team had all spread out around the jet leaving me and Hotch together. “Hotch are you…ok?” I look up at him. In the few months I've known Aaron Hotchner, I've come to find he's a man of few emotions. And although I know he doesn't show it, he feels everything. I've always been nervous to look him in the eyes, but this feels right. “Yes, why do you ask?” I turn my body towards him “Hotch, now you know and I know that's not true. What is it really?” He sighs before looking down at the file in his hands “I'm not actually sure.” He looks at me, suddenly there's a pause and all I can see is his eyes. 

(Narrator Pov)

Y/n and Morgan get to the last dump site. “Ok so you're the Unsub, what makes you want to dump the body in central park?” Y/n looked at Morgan for a response. “Maybe he brought them here because it symbolises the last time he felt loved.” Y/n nods “Yeah maybe in his weird and twisted mind he sees leaving them here as a way of them being loved forever.” Morgan nods agreeing with Y/n. 

At the precinct

“I've mapped out the locations the victims were last seen and also the dump sights but there still isn't a connection. But I do see similarities between the victims and Hotch…” Spencer trails off looking back at the unit chief and JJ. “What is it Reid?” Spencer looks back at the victims. “The interesting details about the victims is their striking physical similarity. They are all strikingly attractive brunettes with hazel eyes and clear skin, which statistically places them in a minority, as hazel eyes only occur in about 5% of the population. This level of specificity suggests that the unsub might be targeting based on personal preference or an idealised image. It's possible that these physical traits represent someone from the unsub's past or an unattainable standard they are trying to recreate. Also…" Spencer looks down nervous to speak. “Reid. What is it.” Hotch says more seriously this time. “Y/n matches the unsubs preference perfectly. Hotch, we profiled that he's narcissistic and will be following the investigation. He might already have his eyes on Y/n and she might not be safe out in the field.”  Hotch immediately calls Morgan and Y/n to get them back in the precinct. “Yeah Hotch?” Morgan's voice rang out from the other side “Morgan, get Y/l/n and get back to the precinct right now.” Morgan looked around for Y/n and grabbed her before getting into the SUV “Alright Hotch I got her, we're coming back but why do you need us back so quick?” Aaron felt his heartbeat calm, he squeezed his eyes as relief washed over him. “Alright, nothing, I'll tell you when you guys come back.”

Y/n and Morgan arrive safely to the precinct

The two rush in, worried something has happened. “Hotch what's happening? Is everyone ok?” Y/n asked, looking between Spencer and Aaron. “Everyones ok Y/n, just sit for a second.” Y/n looked at Aaron confused, “Wha-? I don't get it, what's happening?” Morgan spoke up “Yeah what's going on you guys?” JJ turned to look at Y/n. “Y/n, we noticed the victims all have similarities which is why the unsub chose them specifically. And… you match the victimology to a tea.”

(Y/n Pov)

My heart dropped at JJ’s words. I've never been directly affected by a case, but this is something else. “Y/l/n you need to stay in the precinct, do not go out into the field for any reason at all, and when we go to the hotel tonight you'll be staying with me.” I nodded slowly at Hotch’s words not knowing what to say. “Listen, we're not going to let anything happen to you Y/n.” Derek took my shaking hands into his while speaking to me. I turned and smiled at him “Thank you Derek.” I got up and stood beside Spencer “Ok if I can't go out into the field then I'm going to help you Spencer. I don't want to hear it.” I said not even giving him a chance to protest. “Alright, did you guys find anything interesting about the dump site?” I looked at Hotch. “Yeah so we were thinking maybe he brought them there because that's the last place he'd ever felt loved.” I echoed Derek's words from earlier. “And he's been dumping them there because in his mind, he's leaving them in a place of eternal love.” Derek finished. I heard Spencer muttering to himself before he spoke up. “Ok earlier I said there were no connections between the dump sites but I realised after you guys said Central Park might have been the last place he'd felt loved, that the locations where the victims' bodies were discovered form a distinct geographical pattern, each site bearing personal significance to the unsub. Central Park, in particular, stands out. It’s not just a convenient dumping ground—it’s symbolic. It’s likely the unsub left one of the victims there because it holds sentimental value to him. Perhaps it’s the last place he felt a genuine connection or experienced love like Y/l/n and Morgan said, making it a place where he feels both comfort and pain. Revisiting that spot by following the investigation, might be his way of trying to relive those emotions or confront what he’s lost. The other two locations are the Brooklyn Bridge and a small café in Greenwich Village. Each site represents a meaningful moment in the unsub's life. The Brooklyn Bridge could symbolise a pivotal experience—perhaps a moment of hope or transition, while the café might have been a place where he shared an intimate connection, like a first date or a special memory. Together with Central Park, these locations map out the story of someone who’s desperately trying to recreate or relive a time when he felt truly loved and connected." I nodded at his words, “Maybe he's trying to recreate his relationship with a former partner? Maybe he got divorced recently and tried to replace her?” Emily voiced. “Alright Garcia, give me all the men who have been divorced in the past few months. Block all blondes, gingers, anyone who's not brunette with hazel eyes.” I hear Garcia typing over the phone. “I'm sorry sir, there's nothing with those parameters.” I heard Hotch sigh deeply. We decided to call it a night by 1am and head back to the hotel. 

At the hotel

We made our way to the hotel, Hotch didn't leave my side for even a second. “Alright, JJ and Prentiss you’re in a room, Reid and Morgan you two are together, and obviously Rossi has his own room then Me and Y/n will be in another room.” I looked at Hotch with a ghost of a smile, secretly excited to be sharing a room with him. Hotch, Reid, Rossi and Morgan headed upstairs and before I could follow them, I felt JJ and Emily’s arms holding me back. “What?” I eye them suspiciously. “Hotch and Y/n sitting on a bed….” Emily started teasing, I rolled my eyes at her “Will you stop?” JJ smirked at me “Oh come on, don't act like you don't like him. We’ve noticed your lingering touches, and stolen glances…” I felt a blush creep up my cheeks at their words. “Ok fine, I like Hotch. But he for sure doesn't like me, am I even his type?” Emily rolled her eyes “Y/n you’re crazy smart, and so beautiful. I'm sure he feels the same way. I've seen the way he looks at you.” JJ nodded at Emily's words “Y/n you didn't see it, but when Spencer discovered that you're the unsubs type exactly, I saw how panicked he got. And not in the way he does when any of us are in danger.” I smiled to myself at the thought of Hotch caring for me. “Alright come one lover girl.” I laughed as we caught up to the guys. 

In the hotel room

“Sleep good you guys!” I yelled as everyone made their ways into their rooms. I turned to walk into mine and Hotch’s room and without realising I walked straight into his back. “Oh- I'm sorry sir, what's happening?” I look past him at our room “There's only one bed. I'm sorry I specifically asked them for a 2 bed room. I’ll take the floor.” I look up at him confused. “Wha- no sir, absolutely not. Don't think I don't know about your bad back after the last case, we’re both adults, we can share a bed.” I walk into the room and pick my side of the bed before he gets a chance to protest. “Ok yes you're right, we're both adults. You can take a shower first if you'd like, I take my showers in the morning and I need to call Jack to say goodnight.” I smiled at him before nodding and getting into the shower. After showering, I changed into my pyjamas. I quietly cursed myself for not bringing more appropriate pjs. I slipped into my silk shorts and matching cami before stepping into the bedroom. 

(Narrator Pov)

As Aaron pulled a t-shirt over his head, he couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that had crept up in his gut. He looked toward the closed bathroom door, hearing the faint sound of the water stopping, and felt a rush of protective instinct. The thought of her being a target made his chest tighten, a cold surge of fear that he had not felt since the Foyet situation with Haley. It scared him to think he cared once more about someone that deeply. Taking a deep breath, he pulled on his sweatpants, trying to steady his nerves. As he made his way to the bed, Y/n stepped out of the bathroom. 

(Hotch’s Pov)

I looked up as the bathroom door opened, my usually composed demeanour faltered for a moment when I saw her standing there, hair damp and clinging to her shoulders, droplets of water catching the dim light. The soft sheen of the satin shorts and cami clung to her, highlighting her figure in a way that made it hard to look away. I swallowed, suddenly all too aware of how small the room felt. I’ve shared hotel rooms with colleagues countless times before, but this felt different, more intimate, more dangerous. I forced myself to look back at the paperwork, but my mind betrayed me, I traced the curve of her silhouette in my mind. It was going to be a long night.

(Y/n’s Pov)

As I stepped out of the bathroom I saw him and every coherent thought I had vanished in that moment. He’s sitting on the bed wearing his reading glasses with a tight muscle tee that clung to his chest and broad shoulders, and grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips. I always assumed he had muscles but this time it was different, his muscles defined and stretched the fabric of his shirt with every subtle movement. I felt my breath hitch as he turned, catching me staring. He gave me a small, questioning smile, but all I could focus on was the way his arms looked, strong and powerful, in a way I’d never let myself notice before. I quickly averted my gaze as I felt a blush creep up my cheeks, I could feel Hotch’s eyes on me as I moved towards the bed. I sat facing him on my knees before I spoke “Hotch, do you really think he’ll come for me?” he looked at me, his eyes laced with concern. “I don't know but no matter what happens we will always protect you… Y/n… I will always protect you.” I felt myself blush again, I looked down at my hands. The look in his eyes sent a shiver up my spine. I had to get out of there before he saw me being any more embarrassing. “I- um, I need to go get something from Emily and JJ, I'll be back!” I rushed out of the room and out onto the patio of the hotel. I wrapped my arms around myself feeling the cool breeze of autumn envelop me. I suddenly felt goosebumps go down my body, a rush of uneasiness washed over me. I turned to go back inside the hotel when- everything went black

tag list~ @yourfavoritefangirl

[dotthings]

mid-late S10 Destiel things:

Robbie Thompson in S9 introducing Cain's story and Colette followed by Robert Berens in S10 "you're living my life in reverse" is chef's kiss baton pass for the destiel long game. CINEMA!!!! Pay attention this was not accidental!!!

Dean entrusting the blade to Cas instead of handing it back to Crowley is so weighted. Crowley was the fling. His wild summer. Cas is someone he has feelings for that he trusts, in it for the long haul.

The Executioner's Song deleted scene. With Cas and Crowley taunting each other about how in love with Dean they are. "All in a desperate effort to save your boyfriend." "Maybe he's your boyfriend."

Dean's confession, which yes that is also about Dean himself and him thinking beyond just hunting and being a killer and what else he wants and bi Dean coding not just about Cas but it is also about Castiel. Now, um… recent events, uh… make me think I might be closer to that than I really thought. And…I don’t know. I mean, you know, there’s – there’s things, there’s…people, feelings that I-I-I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time. The priest says "Go a little deeper, perhaps", and Dean answers "Yeah. Yeah, I’m just starting to think that… maybe there’s more to it all than I thought." Dean is looking for a deeper (romantic) connection, he's bi coded, Cas is queer coded, and Cas is right there and S10 has some things going on with them. So without it taking away from Dean's individual arc and themes whatsoever. It's about Cas.

Cas getting to punch Metatron who killed Dean was very satisfying, and how interesting Metatron is still so fixated on Cas. Wants to connect with Cas. Back in S9, he dressed up in a trenchcoat, wanting to emulate him. Envies Cas. Metatron who in S9 called Cas out on how he drapes himself in the flag of Heaven but it's really all about saving Dean, asks Cas in S10, "what are you...what is your mission now" and we know the answer, and so does Metatron, we know he knows because he already said it in S9 and now he's just...taunting Cas with it. Anyway, ongoing theme of angelic resentment, and perhaps in this case even some envy, of the connection Dean and Cas have.

Dean being so happy to see Cas return to the bunker and his grace has been restored and Dean calls it a win. While Cas is practically blushing and doesn't seem to know where or how to stand or what to do with himself he's so pleased. Ugh they're so adorable!!!! And ridiculous!!!!!

Dean's subconscious--manifested as the Benny hallucination--saying it would "ruin" Cas, as well as Sam, to have to kill Dean. So some part of Dean's brain realizes how much Cas loves him (They are both close to Dean, Sam is Dean's sibling, Cas is Dean's best friend and...whatever else he is. The relationships aren't the same, they're both close).

Dean and Cas "take your daughter to work day" with Claire, Dean trying to comfort Claire by explaining that because of her father's sacrifice, Cas was able to save the world. Dean calls Jimmy Novak a "hero" but gives Cas credit for saving the world. Dean reassuring Cas "it's good. It's a good thing" that he wants to continue his atonement with the Novak family but reassuring Cas that he's not a dick (while Cas is so much harder on himself than Dean ever is). Dean and Cas bickering, Cas acting like a worried spouse about Dean, and persuading Dean to stay behind with Claire, with orders "no fighting. Both of you." Sound more married why don't you!!!!! Claire telling Dean to look after Cas...like...this girl noticed some things. That they're close. & sensed Dean cares about Cas too.

Dean being terrified that Cas will be the next one chewed up and spit out by the quest to get the mark off his arm.

Cas calling the bunker "home" for the first time

The Dean and Cas fight scene. "everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. Everyone except me. I'm the one who will have to watch you murder the world"

Given that Rowena couldn't harm Dean and how powerful the mark it, it seems unlikely Cas can actually kill MoC Dean. And instead of turning away, Cas indicates he'll be watching over Dean for all eternity, both of them immortal, and Cas having to witness Dean become that, and Cas unable to abandon Dean.

"Dean, stop" ("She loved me unconditionally. She forgave me. She only asked for one thing." "To stop.")

Cas's hand wrapped around Dean's wrist and the way Dean's hand shakes on the blade. He can't kill Cas even if he's strong enough to.

Rudy the random hunter thrown in there, just so it doesn't get too obvious that it's Cas's beaten up face that's haunting Dean the most. Dean seeing Cas's face in the mirror.

And the deleted scene from Brother's Keeper where Dean dreams about Cas. "You have an admirer."

One might ask also why invent out of the blue a backstory for Rowena involving the child she cared for more than her own son, when the grace of an angel in love with a human would have made a lot more sense to use for the mark removal spell.

[theonyxaltar]

In 2084, Judas has had many of his implants removed to pull himself away from the brink of cyberpsychosis and gotten invested into some "family business". This resurrected connection has helped him maintain influence and he now owns the reopened Atlantis club and also has began work as a fixer. Featured below is his father, Ivan Novak. A shady but charismatic individual who's said to do work with scavs. He was never involved for Judas' childhood but was impressed to hear how he climbed the ladder with his mercenary work. (I'm very proud of him because this was my first head re-sculpt and custom complexion 🥰)

so sorry for inactivity i've been hella tired lol

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Silkaran ti mor'athar (Prisoner Of My Heart)

Author: NannaT

Artist: LamiaSage

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Past Castiel/Inias

Length: 25000

Warnings: N/A

Tags: AU Not Supernatural, Enemies to lovers, Journalist Dean Winchester, Soldier Castiel Novak, Openly bisexual Dean Winchester, Closeted Castiel Novak, War setting, Violence, Anal sex, Blowjobs,

Posting Date: October 23, 2024

Summary: Castiel Novak is a reluctant soldier in the Zarnovian Army. He struggles with his identity as a gay man in a country where his orientation is illegal and punishable by death. His powerful family, including his politician father and military General brother, compel him to conform, while Castiel conceals his true self. Dean Winchester is an openly bisexual investigative journalist and war correspondent known for exposing political scandals. He finds himself captured and  imprisoned by the Zarnovian Army. Dean's relentless pursuit of the truth has led him into the hands of Castiel, who grapples with his duty to his family and country, despite his growing sympathy for his captive. As Dean contends with his captivity and plots his escape, Castiel wrestles with guilt and conflicting emotions. Drawn to Dean's determination and bravery, their interactions spark an unexpected connection, blurring the lines between captor and prisoner.

Excerpt: Castiel stands close to Dean, the room’s oppressive silence broken only by the sounds of their breathing. Dean’s gaze is intense, his green eyes burning with anger. Castiel can feel the weight of the journalist’s scrutiny, and he knows what’s coming next. “You’re Michael’s brother, right?” Dean’s voice is hoarse but steady. “The General?” Castiel nods, keeping his expression neutral. “Yes.” Dean’s eyes narrow. “So, You’re just like him? A mean sonofabitch who enjoys torturing and killing innocent people for no other reason than who they love?” The accusation stings, but Castiel doesn’t flinch. He’s spent years perfecting the art of hiding his emotions, and he’s not about to crack now. “You don’t know anything about me,” he replies evenly. Dean lets out a bitter laugh, wincing as the motion aggravates his injuries. “Oh, I know enough. Michael Novak is a ruthless bastard. And you? You’re his brother, his blood. That’s all I need to know.” Castiel feels a flicker of anger, but he keeps his voice calm. “I’m not Michael.” “Sure looks that way from where I’m sitting,” Dean retorts, his tone laced with sarcasm. “You’re wearing the same uniform, following the same orders. What’s the difference?” “The difference,” Castiel says quietly, “is that I’m trying to help you.” Dean’s eyes flash with anger. “Help me? By making me a pawn in your propaganda? Some help!” he sneers. Castiel’s patience is starting to wear thin. He steps closer, his voice lowering to a harsh whisper. “Do you think I have a choice? Do you think any of us do?” He gestures around the room. “We’re all trapped here, Dean. I’m doing what I can to survive, just like you.” Dean’s expression softens slightly, but his suspicion remains. “So, what? You’re a victim in this too? Forgive me if I don’t buy it.” Castiel’s façade cracks, his frustration spilling over. “You think I want this? To be forced into a role I never chose, to hide who I really am every single day? You think I enjoy watching my friends suffer, knowing I can’t do anything to stop it?” Dean is silent for a moment, taken aback by Castiel’s outburst. He studies Castiel, searching for any sign of deceit. “Then why stay? Why follow Michael’s orders?” Castiel sighs, the weight of his reality pressing down on him. “Because it’s expected of me. Because my father and brother have made sure I have no other choice. And because if I step out of line, if I show any sign of weakness, it’s my life on the line.” He bites his lip to keep from saying more than he should.

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

[thepunkmuppet]

destiel severance / burt and irving au…. cas is the most loyal employee to lumon and kier but becomes disillusioned with the company through his first experience of love… cas’s outtie is jimmy novak dean’s outtie is dean smith…. they don’t gaf about each other and are both straight on the outside but still feel like they have a connection and are confused by it…. guys do you see the vision oh my god i’m gonna go insane

i feel like it would be most obvious to make dean’s innie smith and his outtie winchester, but i just don’t think cas would fall in love with dean smith. in my mind, he’s smith on the outside because he’s a straight-laced business man who cares about his severed job, but he doesn’t know his innie is actually a rebel and a terrible worker. and cas is the best most loyal worker / cult member on the inside, but jimmy is a family man as well as whatever irving turns out to be, a double agent or whatever.

god i am such A User Of This Website. either your TV show dies unpopular or lives to get big enough to have a supernatural au written about it on tumblr dot com

[shallowseeker]

Was feeling silly over Sinatra and I wanted to break out one of my Dean and Jack metas by itself. It's from this monstrosity, but I love it so. I'm pulling it out to ponder over today.

//

Dean’s answer to the Harper-coded ideal of perfection:

So, last we left off, Harper was writing dreamily about how she’s gonna find Jack and everything’s gonna be PERFECT.

Which is why it’s so beautiful to me that Dean, who has struggled with some of the same abandonment trauma and overall clinging to his first familial loves out of desperation, is the one to narratively provide a rebuttal to that!

Harper sighs dreamily and picks up her coffee mug of domesticity:

And the scene cuts to Jack, as if he’s right there across from her. (He’s sitting in her empty spaces, hundreds of miles away.)

And Jack is so satisfied. The coffee didn’t taste good to him at the very beginning of the episode. He “couldn’t get it how he liked it.”

Now, it’s very satisfying.

///

Harper and Jack are both satisfied is different ways. Harper, because she left her past behind, and Jack because he’s proved himself as a capable hunter worthy of being brought into the family business. It’s all part of growing up.

They are still thinking about each other and what they learned in meeting each other. Jack is specifically asking Dean about love:

JACK: And that’s, love? DEAN: Eh, actually love can get crazier than that. And it might get crazier with Harper still out there. But, uh, you did good, kid.

In Jack’s family kitchen, we find Dean sitting in the narrative “Harper position,” fielding Jack’s questions about love and providing important guidance.

But Harper’s “mentor” space is sadly empty. She has no one to guide her. Only a stack of books. She gets her ideas about love…from books.

///

As for Jack, Jack leans a little too far into being Righteous here. He says to Dean: “I was right! I should be going on more hunts!”

This reminds us a little bit of Claire Novak, in 11x12 Don’t You Forget About Me:

"I was right!"

///

But Dean?

Dean gently redirects the conversation. Dean doesn’t talk about perfection. It’s not about being right. Or righteous, for that matter.

DEAN: Okay, alright. It’s not about being right. Kay? You’re gonna make mistakes, hell, I make them all the time. But it’s how you handle yourself once you’ve made those mistakes and you’ve learned from them.

Dean’s entire season 8 arc was about accepting the imperfect family: “love, and love.” This is echoed again, just a few episodes later, with AU Michael taunting Dean specifically about Cas’s mistakes:

AU MICHAEL: …he “gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition.” Or whatever. But since then, what has he done? Only made mistakes, one after the other.

AU Michael doesn’t grasp the complexity of love and all its imperfections. Real, lasting love allows for mistakes and growth.

Anyway.

Mistakes! (And accepting them! It's an amazing theme!)

And that lands for Jack. He considers the words, assessing, and like how he was with Harper, he gets a Very Good Emotional Read on Dean.

(Unlike Sam, a “brain” character, Jack’s very much a heart character. He’s GOOD at this aspect of humanity. He connects almost effortlessly, even when he’s awkward.)

And especially because he and Dean (and Mary) are built similarly in their emotional cores and neuroses, he figures out exactly what Dean needs to hear, echoing their earlier convo about Michael—

(HERE'S THE CONVO B/T JACK & DEAN, EARLIER IN THE EP:)

JACK: Dean, what happened with Michael, no one blames you. DEAN: Cool, well I blame me, so… /////// JACK: Dean, I need to do something. You don’t understand. I could have killed Michael. Here, when I was strong enough, I could have. But there was so much going on and then everything else happened because I was distracted and stupid and DEAN (angrily): Hey! You didn’t do anything wrong. JACK:  And neither did you! But that doesn’t make it any easier does it?

Jack takes this earlier conversation and echoes it—and reflecting a cheeky, wry sense of comfort…right back at Dean himself.

DEAN: ...it’s how you handle yourself once you’ve made those mistakes and you’ve learned from them. JACK (comically throwing Dean’s own advice back at him): —and how to not beat yourself up over [those mistakes].

Aw.

It hits its mark. ❤️

We get his, “Stop seeing right through me, Kid,” look:

DEAN: You know Jack, you’re pretty smart sometimes. 

Dean tries to hide his smile in his drink.

And Jack knows his words hit, that he’s cheered Dean up. He’s so pleased about it, too! He got ‘im.

They’re, very unfortunately for both of them, very much on the same wavelength with this sort of thing, with their neuroses and emotions, and they know it.

///

(Who's giving who advice here? hehehe. Maybe it's a little give and take. They comfort one another because their hearts are made of the same stuff.)

[sailingfireshipz]

My 13x07 download ✨️

1. Another Tori & Carver opening, what have I done to endure this level of torture

2. Mouch asking Ritter if he has beta blockers. Not funny, mouchyyyyy, not funny

3. Accountability from Carver. 10th times the charm i guess?

4. Something about Ritter calling Stella his LT just feels riiiiight

5. Bishop rolling up to Stella's scene... chilling. Stella definitely looked spooked even if she put on a front for Kelly.

5a. Stella immediately calling Kelly ❤️ but him calling her Kidd 👎🏽 I get "professionalism, in front of the chief" but he could have called her Stella

6. You ok? 🥹 nooo no she's not Kelly, but she's not going to tell you that because she wants you to not worry. She wants to be strong but for once I want Stella to be ok with not being ok..

7. Novaks whole blood program... idk did she just wake up one day wanting this, or is it connected to her backstory? Felt random & a little out of place with no context on the why

8. I wish I was lying when I say that scene with Stella, Tori & Carver made me want to jump through my TV screen

8a. I get the same vibe from you & Severide, am i right? 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 giiiiirl, please be serious? You've never even been around Stellaride in the same vicinity to get that "vibe"

9. You good? Onnnnce again no noooo she's not

9a. I have so much to say about Pascal & Kelly. SO MUCH

10. Ritter & Carver bonding ❤️ Stella admiring her company but also letting them know she's still watching

11. Can't believe Violet went to the funeral, 😂 sometimes a little verbal trauma dumping is necessary

12. Monica's instant mood chang when he asked her to go to her sister's... "This is miami all over again. Who did you piss off this time" 😳 I have theories & they make me nervous because I feel like they're foreshawdowing Stellaride against the Pascals 😟 Kelly's going to have to find a better balance between getting justice & not painting life sized targets on he & Stella's back...

13. Bishop should be scared of us... no kidding

14. I never get tired of Kelly yelling at people. Get tf Back

15. No one else find it interesting that Pascal has committed 2 crimes now? 🫣 at what point does this become problematic? All for protecting family but also you're the reason your family needs constant protecting 🙂

16. Stella words of affirmations & physical touch combo for her hubby. His smile was so wide

17. Flynn weirds me out idk but he met the friend group at Mollys, so I guess he's supposed to be ok 🙇🏽‍♀️

18. The Pascal & Kelly ending scene conflicted with me so much. On the one hand , we asked for him to interact with other ppl outside of Stella & here he is doing that. On the other hand, Pascals' potential influence on Kelly. When Stella left the station, it was morning. Kelly was still there late into the evening... there's a reason Monica acts the way she does with Pascal. There's a reason she left him to come back to Chicago.

Throughly enjoyed this episode however midseason is shaping up to be a potential letdown. I'm over here grasping at straws because I've seen theories that Taylor may not be in 13x08 & Miranda not in 13x09.... 🚮

[novashelby]

Meet Archibald Davies

After seeing all of @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark @evita-shelby work on OCxOC relationships, I was inspired to introduce Evie's young love. I probably won't write many one-shots, but he will be introduced through the stories themselves.

Archibald Davies, Archie for short, goes to St. Michael's. They met at 9, but it was not love at first sight. Evie thought boys were gross when she met him as an altar-choir girl and he thought girls were weird. Archie is a quiet boy; kind and gentle, and lives in the rough area of the city. Just like the Shelbys, the Davies were outsiders. Mr. Davies owned a small pharmacy. While a respected, lucrative profession, many in the community did not respect that Mr. Davies married a Chinese woman. Archie is bullied by his peers for everything one could think of; being smaller than the other boys, weaker, gentler, nerdy, and so on. He sort of found himself in the Martha-Evie friend group. When Evie turned 10, she started to like him, but unfortunately for her, Archie still loved train sets more. Evie had an odd phase of her life where she was unnecessarily aggressive with boys, especially if she liked them. (Based on something I did at like 2) Evie one time went to kiss him on the cheek and he looked at her weird, so she panicked and bit him instead. Evie was really bad at expressing these things, so she'd show them in awkward ways. "Um, Evie, why are you grabbing my hand like that?" "Ummm...." "It feels sweaty-" "oh-"

It was painfully obvious to everyone except Archie, and Tommy who refused to believe Evie noticed anything other than ducks and cheese. But the poor girl was at the mercy of her family's teasing, especially her Uncle John. There was a period where Archie would walk her home and they'd hold hands, and he'd allow her a cheek kiss....And John would be just peaking out the window. Sometimes it'd be a whistle and or, "cooties!"

Evie and Archie would always go to school events together. Dances were not at all common in the UK, but the school had one, an Easter dance. Though it was not entirely common, the family did pool money together to get Polly a camera. And of course she weaponized that to terrorize everyone. "Alright, get closer than that-" And together, Archie and Evie would say, "no, we're good...no need." "For heavens sake, get in closer!" and they awkwardly would.

Tommy actually never disliked Archie, and I wholeheartedly believe it's because he truly thought Archie had no game in him whatsoever. They "dated" at 10-11.5, but as kids who didn't really understand anything. It went to the extent of hand holding, cinema dates with a chaperone(uncles dumb and dumber), and cheek kisses. The break up was very mutual. "I dunno, I kinda just want to build my train set tomorrow" "that's unacceptable" "I'm a free man, Evie!" "Then go be free!" "Bye." "Bye". But they were still friends, don't worry. Evie didn't get her big crush until 15 on a boy named Peter Novak.

Archie and Evie would rekindle their "love" throughout their youth until both decided they outgrew whatever it was. However, their friendship really strengthened during her "dark" year at 15-16 when she was getting severely bullied. She relied on him a lot to help her get through it until Tommy agreed with John and Esme's idea to send her on the road with the Lees. Not exactly Tommy's favorite option, but he wanted his daughter's spirit back. That is where she met Vano (@wonderlanddreamer) who became her first love. In that time, Archie went to an engineering camp and met a girl there who eventually became him wife. Isaiah was her second and final love who she eventually married at (I have not fully decided) twenty-six. But Isaiah fell for her when she was 17. When Tommy banned her from seeing Vano, she allowed Isaiah to slowly move in and they formed a connection.

Archie, however, always remained a good friend and Evie served as a bridesmaid at his wedding. And he went to Evie and Isaiah's wedding, and always went to every family function. I'd like to think their children became friends, but I can't see Archie staying in Birmingham. Anyway, there you go....

[fcsources]

I have a question, what would you recommend if you can't find many face claims (or none at all) with a particular ethnicity combo? For example, I have not been able to find many iranian/white face claims aside from maddison jaizanil, but I have more muses that are connected to the character's family that are also the same ethnicity. So, do I just use someone who is fully Iranian? Any suggestions on how to go about this?

this is definitely tricky. to be honest, i really hate the mentality of, like. "the perfect is the enemy of the good?" because if we're saying that you can't do this unless it's totally perfect, then ultimately we're wholly losing those muses and those stories. and i just don't think that's a win? so this is the policy i use in my real life: you get as close as possible. first choice would, yes, absolutely be fcs who are half iranian and half white. second choice would probably be fcs who are any part or fully iranian. now, iran is kind of tricky because it's not part of the "middle east" in the way that most other arab countries are. but generally your third choice is going to be either other countries in the same kind of cluster, or the surrounding countries. so third choice i would say would be iraq, kuwait, afghanistan, and armenia. i'll list some iranian fcs below, see this ask also, this one as well. i hope this helps!!

Adrian Pasdar

Amber Le Bon

Arian Moayed

Arienne Mandi

Ashkon Parto

Bahar Soomekh

Catherine Bell

David Dastmalchian

Dominic Adams

Dominic Rains

Golshifteh Farahani

Kayvan Novak

Keon Alexander

Leila Hatami

Mahlagha Jaberi

Maryam Zolghadr

Mercedes Masohn

Mikaela Hoover

Mozhan Marnò

Nadia Björlin

Nasim Pedrad

Nazanin Boniadi

Nazanin Kavari

Necar Zadegan

Negin Ghalavand

Newsha Syeh

Nikohl Boosheri

Pej Vahdat

Ramin Karimloo

Sahar Ghoreishi

Samuel Larsen

Sarah Kazemy

Sarah Shahi

Shahrad Fredotti

Sheila Vand

Shermine Shahrivar

Shohreh Aghdashloo

Skandar Keynes

Tala Ashe

Zuleikha Robins

[batsplat]

hi bat<3 i feel like you’re definitely not a die-hard fan of the big 3, but for someone like me who’s been watching men’s tennis since the early 2010s, they’re like everything.

so i wanted to ask: out of the big 3 (or big 4?) pairings, which duo do you think is more interesting? like which one feels more worth exploring in your opinion?

i just watched roger’s docu recently, and omg he gave novak a solo moment. not like a story about them, just a montage of novak yelling and screaming on court. then roger went, “this might not reflect well on novak.” it lowkey gave me vale/jorge vibes, not a perfect parallel, but within the big3/big4, they’re the duo that feels the least… connected. and yet, when it comes to tactical and technical richness, they’re at the top. roger’s obviously way more arrogant than vale, like he just doesn’t see novak as special or even interesting. meanwhile, novak used to be that guy who wanted everyone to like him, but now he’s completely over it. over the years, there’s just been this constant low-key, non-vibe-y energy between them. but their matches? they somehow deliver these insane moments at the most unexpected times. at the laver cup, roger said something to novak, and then novak cried.

i’m less into roger/rafa, partly because i’m not a rafa fan, but also because they suddenly turned into this ideal rivalry narrative, and honestly, that kinda freaked me out. i’m slowly starting to understand the feelings between them, though. like, i still don’t buy into the whole “greatest rival” thing because, let’s be real, on both the competitive and career-defining levels, it’s just not that mutual. but yeah, their pairing definitely had its advantages—sorry for saying this, but it’s true. the 2008 wimb F is obviously historic, but if you actually watch it all the way through, it’s not that great. it’s the unpredictable weather that gave it that epic feel.

and then there’s andy/novak, who’ve always been my fave because of their history and the emotional layers in their rivalry. like, when viktor troicki recently said novak was looking for a “big name” coach, my friends and i joked about it being roger, but none of us thought of andy. and then it happened. i still can’t believe it. from my very limited tennis perspective, andy’s kinda feels like a subset of novak’s. i don’t really know what qualities do coaches even need in tennis, and how do they maximize a player’s potential? so i’m really curious to see what they come up with together. their dynamic peaked in 2016, which was also the only time the big4 rivalries genuinely made me sad. so yeah, they totally deserve this heartwarming closure.

okay so first off, I have to confess I get a failing grade as a hater because I read this ask reading ?? eating breakfast with this on

I dozed off to the 2019 wimbledon final last night so idk. this isn't nadal retirement-prompted nostalgia, I actually failed as a hater there too and completely missed his last match happening so like. arrived to dance on the grave a day late. BUT the djokovic/murray coaching news DID awaken something suppressed in me. I'll probably watch the 2012 uso final next just to feel something

anyway, what this does go to show is that for all that I am obviously extremely not a fan of the big three, as a tennis fan it's also not like I can pretend to be completely immune. I grew up watching them!! I remember watching so many of their matches! often with my family! I would argue about them all the time as a fan, whether with my family or people at the tennis club or indeed my maths teacher. I was always rooting for SOMEONE, like I did have an order of preference. and... uh, it should be mentioned that I am also not a complete neutral who just intellectually hated the big three because I thought they were shitty sources of narrative tension. I was a massive murray fan as a kid so I did also just get my heart repeatedly broken by them. we're talking 'cried during murray's speech at wimbledon 2012'... I actually watched the wimbledon 2013 final at the tennis club where I trained and was EXTREMELY smug (and delighted) when murray won because EVERYONE including my coach thought djokovic would win and had been extremely annoying in my direction throughout the experience. but also I have never enjoyed a men's australian open final in my life, except 2012 I suppose. that venue holds nothing but pain and misery for me

so with my biases stated up front, where the big 3/4 rivalries are concerned, I'm basically in the 'anybody but fedal' camp. that one I feel nothing for and its popularity continues to absolutely baffle me. no hate to anyone who enjoys it but I do treat its continued dominance basically like a psyop. idk who's responsible for this or why they're doing it, but SOMEBODY is pursuing some kind of nefarious agenda. call me casey stoner because I've cracked the code. I understand they're both individually rather popular and I suppose in a detached unemotional way I do get how that could happen, but as a unit? idk man. also, EYE am a rivalry enjoyer, but I get very suspicious when too many fans are an enjoyer of a particular rivalry... (or y'know, sometimes you've got rivalries that have a lot of 'theoretical fans' but you can kinda tell they do basically hate one of the competitors involved and will immediately throw them overboard if they have to take a side, which also passes the test.) just shows to me that there's zero edge there. most partisan fans of an athlete hate anyone who is a threat to their athlete, that's just how people are. if there's this little hate then that tells me that there's too little threat which tells me the stakes aren't quite there competitively or emotionally... which tells me that there's no real reason to care. I'm well aware that federer fans used to be more likely to be nadal haters back in the noughties (david foster wallace coming through for me again on that front) and that nadal fans are more into that rivalry than federer fans and that they're both retired now... but still!! if it was a proper fun rivalry, more partisan fans would still be bitter. fundamentally the rivalry is good for both of them in terms of legacy and pr and all that shit and they both clearly agree so it's just... empty

which yeah, so full agree on the stuff you say lol. I HAVE watched the wimbledon 2008 final (and I... think?? must have watched it at the time, I was still pretty young and clearly it wasn't a defining enough experience it stuck in my mind lol) but it's been years by now. so I can't actually reallyyyy speak to its quality and I'm probably not going to rewatch it any time soon. I do also just think it's the most boring match-up tennis-wise... partly this is because my favourite big three playstyle is djokovic's - I love how he moves around the court, I love the compact backhand and the emphasis on counterpunching... the nadal/federer match-up was mostly defined by federer attempting to figure out ways to prevent nadal from bullying his backhand. which I do know is oversimplifying things lol but it's. kinda true. djokovic/federer is the best match-up tennis-wise even if it's a bit one-sided in the biggest moments (which, whatever, that was narratively engaging too)... federer's full artistry against djokovic's precision was just more exciting to watch. then comes djokovic/nadal which is a bit of a counterpuncher-off, like they are quite tactically similar in a lot of ways, extremely optimised baseliners... but that means they were always going to push each other the furthest - they were already half a step ahead of federer in the evolution of tennis and everyone now is obviously basing their tennis primarily on how they changed the game. and, y'know, nadal's biggest rival is djokovic!! I get why if you're a nadal fan, you'd want it to be federer, but well! tough!

and YES yes I ABSOLUTELY agree that federer/djokovic is the most interesting interpersonally because federer was SO arrogant towards djokovic. the worst thing that happened to federer is that he became a pr merchant, like at least being a cunt was INTERESTING. he used to be absolutely dreadful about murray too!! aggressively unpleasant!! but that one was also frustrating because... murray didn't end up surpassing him... (I genuinely have like. traumatic flashbacks to watching their atp finals 2014 match. I don't think my soul ever quite recovered from that day.) but with djokovic!! people used to be so unpleasant about him - and okay, by now unfortunately he's given everyone plenty of cause, but BACK THEN it was a completely different story. it was so much fun rooting for him when the crowds were being horrid to him and he stuck it in their faces... before he did all the boob throwing business - staring icily at them when he beat their hero? hot

and federer was so so snide about the guy... pepperidge farm remembers when he accused teenage djokovic of faking his injuries in 2006

The 19-year-old Djokovic called his trainer multiple times. He had hamstring issues, but Federer thought he was faking his injuries to disrupt Wawrinka’s rhythm. “I don’t trust his injuries. I’m serious. I think he’s a joke, you know, when it comes down to his injuries,” Federer said.

OR in 2009

Djokovic, the No. 3 seed, threw in the towel midway through the fourth set of his quarterfinal with Andy Roddick, trailing 6-7 (3), 6-4, 6-2, 2-1. But in pointed comments, Federer, the No. 2 seed, noted that it wasn't the first time Djokovic has withdrawn midway through a match in a Grand Slam. "He's not a guy who's never given up before ... it's disappointing," said Federer, who will face Roddick in the semifinals. "I've only done it once in my career ... Andy totally deserved to win that match." "I'm almost in favor of saying, you know what, if you're not fit enough, just get out of here," Federer added. "If Novak were up two sets to love I don't think he would have retired 4-0 down in the fourth. Thanks to Andy that he retired in the end. Andy pushed him to the limits. Hats off to Andy."

'if novak were up two sets to love I don't think he would have retired 4-0 down in the fourth' ...? what are you even saying

and like, on a moral level I do actually think this is pretty gross and have a massive bone to pick with federer on his whole 'look at me aren't I amazing for never retiring from a match' schtick, which continues to have lasting harmful consequences in this sport. this kind of record isn't heroic, it's just fucking stupid. but also, it's hardly the first time or the last time tennis players accused each other of playing up their injuries - it's very much part of the sport, we've all done it or at least thought it. I am also on the record as being pro beefing with children. and it's very strong set-up for that rivalry, especially given how bloody often djokovic went on to crush federer's spirit! it's better set-up than the payoff, quite frankly

that being said, perhaps my favourite match they played is us open 2011 semis - y'know, the match where djokovic saves two matchpoints in the fifth set en route to beating federer... oh, I suppose that doesn't completely narrow it down!!

ah well!

back to 2011, that match did lead to just some really strong snarking in the press:

Djokovic was honest enough to admit the shot was a gamble – but Federer was reluctant to give him credit even for that courage in a crisis, preferring to regard it as desperate. "Confidence? Are you kidding me?" he said when it was put to him the cross-court forehand off his first serve – described by John McEnroe as "one of the all-time great shots" – was either a function of luck or confidence. "I mean, please. Some players grow up and play like that – being down 5-2 in the third, and they all just start slapping shots. I never played that way. I believe hard work's going to pay off, because early on maybe I didn't always work at my hardest. For me, this is very hard to understand. How can you play a shot like that on match point? Maybe he's been doing it for 20 years, so for him it was very normal. You've got to ask him." Djokovic was in a more relaxed mood. "Yeah, I tend to do that on match points," he said, reminded that it was exactly what he did to Federer last year. "It kinda works."

IT KINDA WORKS jhgjhgjhgkf get him again from me

here's the matchpoint save in question ofc

"someday the little twins will grow up to hear about matches like this" well -

which, I mean, federer's being extremely annoying in press! 'oh I'm above taking risks when I'm down on the scoreboard' says the man who ended up with one hell of a reputation for choking. it's also silly!! sometimes it's worth taking a swing at it!! also psychologically, because you're making things less complicated for yourself!! in individual matches, you won't necessarily be rewarded for your diligence and hard work, just not how anything works you moron. but y'know, this was the REAL federer. by the following year he'd already completely clamped down on this kind of thing and it felt like really djokovic could have also been WAY more bitter about this stuff than he publicly was... but yeah, this I did enjoy

and yeah, I do kinda see the vale/jorge comparison! like you say, federer is kinda... more arrogant, more contemptuous towards his younger rivals, also just more of a sore loser until pr got to him? tennis is infamous for its frosty handshakes, but you compare some of those with how warm valentino generally was when he lost... federer's problem was that he lacked self-awareness and was just so committed to this image of the gentleman's sport, which is why he ended up shying away from all this stuff. the unpleasantness with djokovic was actually like... still fairly late in the game, all things considered, it wasn't even really like 2011!federer to say stuff like that. which does show djokovic was capable of really really getting under his skin! and on djokovic's end, where the jorge comparison very much applies is how much he wanted the people to love him (ik his fans hate this narrative but like,, obviously he did). and how they had all already decided he was the enemy for beating their beloved federer and nadal. I do find it a bit easier to stomach with valentino because he deliberately plays with this stuff, weaponising the crowd and all that, whereas federer and nadal just pretend like it's not happening. (also morally it might be worse to boo at a motogp event because of the danger they're putting themselves in, but practically booing at a tennis match is far far worse - you can actually influence the competitors in a way you obviously cannot in motogp.) but that WAS one of the most interesting storylines in the big three era... djokovic slowly catching these two greats who were always so far ahead of them, however much people didn't want him to, even though he didn't have the love of the people on his side, and eventually managing to surpass them altogether. I do think there's plenty of interesting stuff there!! good groundwork! it's just... nowhere near enough, given how bloody long these guys ended up dominating

on djokovic/murray - MY favourite combination of guys as well, just in terms of how much I actually like both of them. it's an interesting relationship where it's like... they knew each other quite well when they were young, then inevitably grew apart a bit when they were competing for big titles? obviously they were also born exactly a week apart from each other, which is narratively fun. I suppose it's the equivalent to jorge/dani which... actually wait, no, I realise that would assign nadal to casey and certainly not my god. it's a rivalry that's a bit tough to stomach from a murray fan perspective because... I mean, it's not quite 'this is not a rivalry, they always kick our ass' territory... but when I started following tennis as a kid, it felt completely plausible that murray and djokovic would have similarly successful careers. which obviously. did not happen. still remember that kind of controversial 2015 australian open final -

- and, y'know, it's a bit frustrating!! this was the tone of a lot of that era, where you kinda just wanted to take them all aside and tell them. my god. maybe a little bit of feuding is okay, no? but well, it is what it is, mostly they had a good relationship. 2016 was kinda the best of times and worst of times because murray was pouring his heart and soul into scraping all of his potential out of himself, got another slam, year end #1 etc... but it also probably did end up fucking up his body permanently, in the quest to fight djokovic. and there IS something compelling and sad about that, but yeah. still a bit of an old wound as an actual sports fan lol

and yeah, they're two closely related playstyles!! counterpunchers with particularly excellent backhands - and if a wing falters, then it's the forehand. it was lendl coaching murray and getting him to properly go after his forehand, be aggressive enough off that wing, that got him his biggest successes. djokovic's weaknesses are less pronounced and especially these last few years, he's often been lethal as a serve + 1 forehand merchant. roland garros 2023 is a good example of that... murray was the tactician, generally thought a lot on court and had a lot in his arsenal - ofc most famously his excellent lob. djokovic does also have more to his game than just baseline pushing, even if sometimes that involves just spamming dropshots when he feels uneasy. obviously, as can be seen from the slam count, his game ended up being just a bit better... but, well, these are very fine margins. murray's slam count is deceptive, he really was the one guy who could consistently hang with those three year-in year-out. whatever revisionism people try to do now, it really was a big four era

as for the coaching relationship, I'm very curious!! coaching can take a lot of different forms and sometimes there's a bit of a distinction between the... bread and butter coaching, the people who are working with you day to day, and these more high profile gigs where sometimes it really is just localised to specific tournaments. it's all very individualised, depends on the specific demands of the player - obviously, given where djokovic is at in his career, you won't be seeing particularly major adjustments, like murray isn't going to come in and suddenly suggest djokovic revamps his serve, right. (though sometimes players still tinker with this stuff late into careers, especially if they're managing injuries.) given the particular stresses of playing in a match, what an odd experience that is in its own right, sometimes you do just need someone to be observing you, give your game a critical once-over from a little bit of distance. now, admittedly from what I've seen of djokovic's coaching relationships, I do feel like one of the coach's roles in THAT particular camp is also just 'being yelled at continuously during matches'. which...? a little curious if djokovic has that same tone when murray's standing there lmao. also one of the reasons for the yelling is when djokovic feels like he's not getting enough enthusiasm from his box. which... ... uh. I mean. murray wouldn't have been top on MY list for that particular metric. but he can get passionate at davis cup from what I've seen!! so maybe it'll work out

anyway yeah I'll cut it off there lol. obviously I spent half my childhood thinking about tennis and inevitably that involved a lot of thinking about the big four and that means I have a lot of thoughts on them so. basically it's fedole > rafole > fedal as far as I'm concerned. good luck to djokovic/murray in their endeavours, I will be there no matter what

[revenantlore]

. WIP introduction.

the spookyboys, in collaboration with @reeseweston

With an aching secret wedged between his ribs, Felix Novak embarks on a quest for truth and to unveil the existence of aliens, ghosts, cryptids, and everything in between.

Casper Nguyen, a firm non-believer in anything not proven by fact, unexpectedly becomes entangled in Felix’s pursuit of the impossible.

Together, they blur the lines between the known and the unexplainable—and their friendship along the way.

. soft rain hitting fallen leaves . disembodied voices on the wind . audio crackles on the radio . cozy sweaters a size too big . handprints on foggy windows . milkshakes and french fries . inside jokes between friends . murder mysteries and mayhem . a face in the mirror not belonging to you .

characters :

Felix Novak

Psychosis runs in the Novak family. At least that’s what his father’s been trying to convince Felix of ever since the day his mother was sent away following her hysterical claims of seeing a woman in their house that no one else could see.

Except … Felix is positive he saw her too.

Even more certain that he spoke to her.

Maybe not in words, but through his Ouija board.

Years have come and gone since then, and though Felix hasn’t yet been able to prove his mother’s sanity, he has seen his fair share of ghosts and monsters, of creatures both evil and benign, and he’s not given up looking for the truth.

Casper ‘Cas’ Nguyen

Ghosts don’t exist, Cas is as sure of that as he is the insomnia that plagues him.

That is, until he meets eccentric and curious Felix, a man insistent that this insomnia Cas suffers from might in fact be the cause of a ghost not only haunting his apartment but also sharing some sort of deeper connection that is much too extreme for Cas to grasp.

Even in the face of proof that this ghost, and others like it, might indeed exist, Cas remains skeptical.

Even after years following Felix prove the existence of the paranormal on film, Cas remains skeptical.

Because there has to be another explanation … right?

Croix Harvoth

Croix was once a kinder and gentler person, but ghosts ruined that for him.

A near-death experience during an attempt to bring his former best friend’s girlfriend back to life has left him haunted. Literally. To the point he can’t sleep most days because the ghosts in his occult shop / apartment won’t shut the fuck up.

Like he owes them something, they come to him seeking help, seeking guidance to the next stage of their lives … or lack thereof … and no matter what he does, he can’t seem to get rid of them.

It’s turned him into an asshole of a hermit who avoids the living as often as he can … which isn’t easy when you run a business.

Someone’s got to pay the bills, though, and his cat, Jackass, will starve without her damned cat food, so what’s a guy going to do?

Atticus Flood

Some might say he is too giving, too gentle, too eager to help, and they would be right.

Atticus can heal the ailments of others, from minor wounds to major ones, from simple sorrows to the deepest mental aches, but in turn, it takes a part of him, too.

His hair is losing its color, drained from its deep black roots to a haunting white like a spider’s thread. His nails have taken on a similar fate, but his eyes still hold some of the life still lingering in him.

Taking it too much further might mean the end for him, but Atticus isn’t sure he can say no.

Especially not when he meets Croix and knows he might be the only thing that can save him from his demons.

Katy Lovelace

Everyone needs a friend acquainted in witchcraft, though Felix might have been skeptical when they first met. Which is saying something, considering all of his out-there beliefs … but this was different. This was putting his best friend in the hands of a stranger, inexperienced in the ways of magic, no one quite knowing what risks they might face.

Now, though, she’s a go-to friend for advice on crystals and spells, and the occasional bath time essential oil recommendations.

[malekssinner]

May Update: My hopes & predictions for the stories I’m most excited about

ABH: THE WAY I AM GAGGING FOR THESE 2 CHAPTERS! Firstly, we were left on such a cliff hanger last time - the Locust in Mikael’s office, Fel going ham on Somnus ass and Audrey leaving with her to find her fam & the first signs of the Apocalypse with the birds falling from the sky. I want to see where Fel’s family were kept all this time and witness their reunion which will be SO SAD but intriguing what Fel will do next, surely not go back to Astrea. I WANT MALEK AND AUDREY TO FINALLY HAVE A KISS! Fingers crossed one of those spoilers was about them and we get a dark, alluring kiss in that church and they both surrender to their feelings. Having said this, I also hope Malek doesn’t start off having some kind of “villain to hero” arc at any point to be with Audrey and instead we get Audrey tuning in to her darker desires like she expressed in her fantasies of him in S3E2. I absolutely adore what Elena has done with Malek’s path and I need her to continue this good work and give us a route where Audrey goes morally grey and her and Malek choose their own path. I’m so excited to see how this all shapes, I’m actually kicking my feet. I need to see Cassiel brining up his sister to the superiors again with what Felonia told him as surely, it’s not just going to be swept under the carpet? LASTLY, ITS ABOUT DAMN TIME WE FIND OUT MALEK’S PARENTAGE IN BLACK AND WHITE, TELL ME WHAT HE IS INSTEAD OF ALL THESE GAMES, ELENA I’M ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BEGGING YOU.

ATHWTU: First and foremost, can we finally get some info on wtf is going on in that haze because season 2 has in my opinion been a little slow or maybe I’m not fully understanding it yet. I still love the characters and enjoy reading the new chapters but it would be good to have at least a few answers to the mysteries. What is the masked man doing? We probably won’t find out who he is for some time but I just want a little clue. I’m hoping for more screen time for Ozar and Lada because I LOVE THEM and I can’t wait to see their relationship progress (and rub it into Leyla’s face.) Fingers crossed we get more of Sirin x Tata because I’m obsessed with them and also Sirin and Novak getting revenge on those shitty villagers coming for them.

The Missing: I am LOVING this story. Ghita is such a breath of fresh air and I love how the author made her half Norwegian as well as another nationality (I’m being biased af cause I’m Polish and LOVE the representation.) The pacing of the story is great, I love how it will be a different case in every season and the characters are interesting and fun. Yasin is my absolute fave right now, the man actually makes me swoon and I can’t wait for his and Ghita’s date. Having said this, I’m also really intrigued but the masked LI and if they’re making an appearance in this update or in the next season. AND NOW THE BIG GUNS, WHAT HAPPENED WITH ALFRED?! I’m putting my money on Anders conspiring with the pastor after he somehow finds out he’s the dad and wants the baby out of his way, he seems like a deadbeat to me. AND LEMME SEE THE CONSEQUENCES OF SHAGGING ANDERS CAUSE I NEED TO SEE THE FALLOUT.

SCN: I know a lot of people are hating season 3 but I’m actually enjoying it. We are getting a good chunk of information on the characters & their pasts. So far, I’ve only played Livius’ path so far and I’m LOVING their dynamic - it’s one of my fave pairings in all of RC. They have such soulmate energy and you can tell that Livius is the only character that really cares about Eva from the get go and Eva has allowed herself to open up and fall in love with him as well. I really hope we get a proper spice scene with him soon but also really appreciate why there hasn’t been one yet - it adds to their dynamic considering Eva’s past. I’m also really looking forward to finding out more about Eva and her connection to the Duat, Anubis & Set.

SC: I have absolutely no idea what Amy is cooking with this. I really enjoyed season 1, the characters, the plot and LIs so I’m hoping season 2 is as good if not better. I want to see more of M/Morgana in season 2 and get some answers on what the hell happened in the season 1 finale. Hobello was one of my favourite parts of the story and I’m a bit worried about the prospect of him becoming an LI but will probs open a slot for him anyway at some point lmao otherwise I’ll have FOMO.

[aceing-on-the-cake]

CW: Religious Trauma, Disowned by Parents, Familial Abuse(disownment), SI mention, generalized angsty rant

I go through life a lot not thinking about the fact that like I've gotta form an entire support network from the ground up because of being raised in a cult. Like most people when they get kicked out from their house for being queer they have *some people*. Maybe it's extended family, aunts, uncles, grandparents. Maybe it's like a friend group. Maybe it's the friend's parents who are like your surrogate parents already. I don't know. But it's someone. They have people. They have base connections already with which they can make more off of.

But I just, don't.

I left a cult and lost every parent. I lost every sibling. I lost every surrogate aunt, uncle, and grandparent because I already didn't have actual extended family. I lost every friend I'd ever had. I. Lost. Every. Person. I. Knew.

And yeah, you can make more. That's the beautiful thing about humans, they grow and they heal no matter where you put them.

But it takes time, and that's time spent floundering around in my early twenties making stupid mistakes that cost me a lot because I don't have the parents to bounce things off of. That means trying to make friends and coming up with a total of 1 or 2 because all the normal times people made friends, school, college, etc, I was in, a fucking cult.

And like, I keep going. I live by a fuck it you thought I'd off myself out here and so I refuse to ever do so even when I was literally alone. I am out here pulling myself forward inch by inch with coffin-fucking-bloody hands (TM Berklie Novak-Stolz) and I move on and I live and I forget and it doesn't come up every single day of my life that I'm alone, even now, I'm so more alone than a human is supposed to be. I am making a found family but that cannot replace the grandparents I am supposed to know, the aunts and uncles I am supposed to be able to connect to, the parents I am supposed to be able to turn to. It helps, god does it fucking help, but you can't replace those things. And if you can, I have not figured out how.

[obsessionnostalgia]

Claire Novak fic recs: yeah, I was trying to reblog something every time I found a new one but its too disorganized so now it lives here. You have a Claire Novak rec? i want to read it.

Where the Heart Is by goldenraeofsun

Features a time-traveling Claire hanging out with Sam and Dean circa season 7. There's angst. There's Claire hooking up with a diner waitress. There's Claire having self-worth issues. There's Claire making fun of Dean to his face. All the good stuff.

Like a Duck, He Fits the Bill by golbygloom

Claire Novak and her budding attachment to the guy who isn't her dad but wears his face. The angst of having to get out of your own way to make connections with others.

Let Me Come Home by prosopopeya

Deancas-centric but Claire Novak is a POV character, struggling in foster care and the uncertainty of whether her uncle (Cas) will get his shit together in order to take her in. The Claire and Dean parallels are strong.

Rec from kerryweaverlesbian:

no such thing as a unique experience by @astralpenguin

A 15 year old Claire meets the (now older) little girl who was possessed by Lilith for a long time. Neither of them realise this element of connection for quite some time. Tons of empathy and understanding. These two feel so much like complex teenage girls, and also the dramatic irony is incredibly fun. One of the best fics I've read all year

Rec from carhengeapocalypse:

Another rhinestoneangels (@pinknatural ) fic fatherisms

Claire is a baby when Jimmy agreed to be Castiel's vessel and Dean steps in to help take care of her. The timeline jumps around and the story is told in snippets and it's very good

as if death itself was undone by microcomets

Claire confronts a human Castiel in a grocery store.

Claire heaves a deep, bone-weary sigh. “Here I am, consoling an ex-angel using my dead father as a meat-puppet on his self-esteem issues. I should write a book or something.”

everlasting by entropic_saudade

Claire wants to have a permanent mark of her and Kaia’s love. In order to do the stabbing safely, she helps Dean bring Cas back from the Empty so he can heal her.

gifts given & words unspoken by rhinestoneangels

Short: Dean and Claire make cookies after Castiel brings her back to the bunker, injured. Some implications at this point, Claire is more family to Dean than Mary. Set in season 12.

coming out by dicklessthewonderclown

Short, Dean POV conversation on a drive with Claire where she comes out as wanting to date Kaia and also admits (by accident) that Dean is a kind of sort of maybe father figure to her.

A Christmas Miracle (for someone else) by bitterred

Set post-canon, mirroring all the "Cas is dead and Dean is depressed" fics, Claire Novak finds a cat during the holiday season.

i'm sorry i'm the one you love (no one will ever love me like you again) by monsterfatigue

Kind of weird that Claire decided she was in love with Kaia even though they had barely known each other. After Kaia comes back from the Bad Place, nothing is simple. Claire isn't sure why she thought it would be.

This Is A Love That Lasts Forever by HeddersTheOwl

Another fic where Claire being friendly with the angel that wears her dad's face is complicated.

"You look too much like him. It's not fair. You're not him." 

meteor site (our hearts collision) by sobsicles

Claire has religious trauma laced with homophobia. Kaia doesn't want to be anyone's nightmare.

the way a dad should by fleeceframe

Dean and Claire are driving back to Jody's when Claire needs to stop because her period has started. (Side note: i was SURE that part of the reasoning for carrying tampons/pads in the impala was going to be partially related to the fact that they're sometimes good for wound care, in that the products are designed not to grow bacteria.)

i don’t know nothing (and that’s fine) by halfwheeze

Claire Novak meets Magda Peterson, the psychic girl from 12.4 American Nightmare, and likes her so much it makes Claire look stupid. Look at that, they have matching religious trauma: "When Castiel-" she pauses, remembering that his name isn't carved into the internal dialogue of every girl with religious trauma from here to Texas, "the Winchesters' angel, I don't know if he was with them when they got you- when he came to Earth, he needed a vessel. A human strong enough to hold an angel, with strong enough faith to allow them in and allow them to stay." That's what the Winchester Gospels said about them anyway. Castiel just said that they needed to believe. They were special. Believers. Bullshit. "When Castiel came to Earth, he took my father. And then, when my father told him he couldn't stay anymore, Castiel approached me. Being a vessel, it's passed down in the family line. The blood. The body. All they need is the body. And I was a kid. He might as well have been God. So I said yes. And my father took him back. If you think about it, it's my fault that my dad is dead."

Bartenders Love Me by clusterjam

Claire Novak doing her Dean-coded thing: hustling in a bar, flirting with the bartender, and oh yeah: angst about whether her dad would approve of her.

Subject: Dean Winchester Is Dead by angelszn

There aren't enough fics about Claire finding out Dean (or Cas) are dead. Dean Winchester is dead. Dean Winchester is dead, and Claire got the news in an email of all things. As if the gravity can be contained in the tiny black letters on the screen. It didn’t even seem possible. 

patricide of the lowest order by angelszn

This one's dark (Major Character Death tagged) -- Castiel killed Claire's father, after all, and what is Supernatural but a series of revenge plots?

two steps on the water by orpheuscas

Claire in the aftermath of being cured of werewolfism. Heavy dose of "Dean is basically Claire's dad now" included.

she'll say she got the map from me by 13zepptraxx

Hey you know that episode where Dean goes back in time and hangs out with his mom? He tells her, "No matter what you hear, or what you see. Promise me you won’t get out of bed." but then an angel wipes her memory? What if Claire went back in time after Dean died because she was sick with grief and basically did the same thing?

[fayezmahmud]

Kristen Schaal elaborates on the significance of the narrative in Season 5 of 'What We Do in the Shadows'

FX series

In the latest season of the FX series "What We Do in the Shadows," Kristen Schaal's character, The Guide, finds herself in a relatable yet unique predicament. As an immortal vampire, The Guide struggles to fit in and connect with her peers, a situation compounded by the fact that she has lost her only friends, the Vampiric Council. This leaves her on the outskirts of the vampire group, unable to find her place among them.

Kristen Schaal, in an interview with Collider's Christina Radish, shared her insights into her character's feelings of exclusion. She noted that the Guide's repeated attempts to join the vampire clique stem from her longing for a family or companionship in a world where such connections are scarce for an immortal being. Despite the group's charm and appealing qualities, they don't readily welcome her into their fold. Schaal highlighted the Guide's possible affinity with Nandor, played by Kayvan Novak, as he embodies the powerful warrior she has always admired. Additionally, she finds a sense of warmth in Laszlo's character, portrayed by Matt Berry.

However, The Guide's strongest desire is to befriend Nadja, a fellow vampire. Schaal explained that Nadja's captivating personality makes her an irresistible candidate for friendship. This season of "What We Do in the Shadows" promises engaging storylines and Schaal is excited for viewers to witness the Guide's relatable journey of yearning for acceptance and connection.

“The Nadja character is so fun because she does not give two shits about anything. She’s self-absorbed, but she’s not self-conscious. She just goes for things. She has a courage and a fierceness that is really fun. She wants to open a nightclub, so she does it and she’s good at it. She wants to have a long-term, great relationship with Laszlo, so she does it. She always just figured it out and she’s very competent. When she has an idea, she gets it done, and it’s a fun ride to be on.”

As the series progresses, The Guide's struggles to integrate into the vampire group while seeking companionship will likely provide both comedic and emotional moments. Fans can catch up on all the episodes of "What We Do in the Shadows" streaming on Hulu, with new Season 5 episodes releasing weekly on Thursdays.