#car wrap in Staten Island

[tintprosnyc]

Revamp Your Ride: The Benefits of Car Wraps for Staten Island Vehicles

In the bustling borough of Staten Island, maintaining a unique and eye-catching vehicle has become a point of pride for many car owners. One innovative solution that has gained popularity in recent years is the use of car wraps. These customizable vinyl films offer a practical and versatile way to transform the appearance of your vehicle, providing a range of benefits that can enhance your driving experience and make your car stand out on the roads of Staten Island.

Understanding Car Wraps

A car wrap is a thin, adhesive vinyl film that is professionally applied to the exterior of a vehicle. This film can be designed with a variety of colors, patterns, and graphics, allowing car owners to personalize their ride and create a one-of-a-kind look. Unlike traditional paint jobs, car wraps are a removable and reversible solution, making them an attractive option for those who want to experiment with their vehicle's appearance or protect the underlying paint.

The Benefits of Car Wraps in Staten Island

Car wraps offer numerous advantages for Staten Island vehicle owners, making them a popular choice for both practical and aesthetic reasons.

1. Customization and Personalization

One of the primary benefits of car wraps is the ability to customize the appearance of your vehicle. Whether you want to showcase your personal style, promote your business, or simply give your car a fresh new look, car wraps provide an almost limitless range of design possibilities. From bold, attention-grabbing graphics to subtle, sophisticated patterns, the options are endless, allowing you to truly make your vehicle your own.

2. Paint Protection

In the bustling streets of Staten Island, your car's paint can be subjected to a variety of environmental hazards, including road debris, bird droppings, and the occasional ding or scratch. A high-quality car wrap can act as a protective barrier, shielding the original paint from these damaging elements and preserving the vehicle's appearance for years to come. This can be particularly beneficial for those who lease their cars or plan to sell their vehicle in the future, as the wrap can help maintain the car's resale value.

3. Improved Visibility and Branding

For business owners in Staten Island, car wraps offer a unique opportunity to turn their vehicles into mobile billboards. By incorporating bold graphics, logos, and contact information, car wraps can help to enhance brand visibility and promote your company to a wide audience as you navigate the streets of the borough. This can be an effective and cost-efficient way to reach potential customers and stand out from the competition.

4. Increased Resale Value

When properly maintained, a car wrap can also contribute to the overall resale value of your vehicle. Buyers in Staten Island may be more inclined to purchase a car with a well-designed and well-cared-for wrap, as it demonstrates that the previous owner took pride in the vehicle's appearance and took steps to protect the underlying paint.

5. Temporary Transformation

For those who enjoy experimenting with their car's look or want to change the appearance for a specific event or occasion, car wraps provide a temporary and reversible solution. The wrap can be easily removed without damaging the original paint, allowing you to revert to the factory finish whenever you choose.

Choosing the Right Car Wrap in Staten Island

When selecting a car wrap in Staten Island, it's essential to work with a reputable and experienced provider to ensure a high-quality, long-lasting result. Here are some key factors to consider:

Material Quality: Look for car wrap materials that are durable, weather-resistant, and designed to withstand the unique challenges of the Staten Island environment, such as fluctuating temperatures and exposure to UV rays.

Installation Expertise: A professional car wrap installer should have the knowledge and skills to properly measure, cut, and apply the wrap, ensuring a seamless and bubble-free finish.

Design Assistance: Many car wrap providers offer design services to help you create a custom, eye-catching look for your vehicle. Take advantage of these services to ensure your wrap reflects your personal style or brand identity.

Warranty and Aftercare: Reputable car wrap companies in Staten Island will offer warranties on their products and provide guidance on proper maintenance to ensure the longevity of your wrap.

Conclusion

Car wraps in Staten Island have emerged as a versatile and practical solution for vehicle owners looking to revamp their ride. From personalization and paint protection to improved visibility and increased resale value, the benefits of car wraps are numerous. By working with a trusted and experienced provider, you can transform your vehicle into a unique and eye-catching asset that reflects your personal style or business brand. Whether you're a Staten Island resident or just passing through, a well-designed car wrap can help your vehicle stand out on the roads and make a lasting impression.

[adarafaelbarba]

Saucy Saturday with the Carisi Clan? 👀

I completely forgot about this for a second, but I remember we talked in-depth about this, so I'll try to convert our notes into a hc 😅💕

Once a year the whole Carisi clan gather at his nonna and nonno's house (his dad's parents) for food, chats, and tomato sauce making.

When I say whole Carisi clan, I mean his parents, sisters, their husbands and children, aunts, uncles, cousins, and of course his grandparents.

The first year he joins after Nicky is born, he's excitedly talking about it when visiting the precinct for a case.

Amanda, though excited, is also worried. She knows his family adores her and the girls, but she knows how crazy they can all be, and with a new little family member? well, it might be too much for little Nicky.

So you jokingly suggest coming along as a nanny, to help with the three kids if need be.

To your surprise, and everyone else's, Sonny invites the whole squad and their significant other or child.

Joe looks on in wonder at all of this. He's not really had a big family. For most of it, it's just been him, his sister, his mother, and for the first few years of his life, his dad.

So to say he's shocked at being invited is an understatement.

But none the less, the upcoming Saturday, they all rock up to the address they were given on Staten Island, bright and early, ready for a whole day's work.

Serafina and her mother-in-law coming out to the door to greet them all.

"Captain Benson, how lovely to see you again. And this must be your son", Serafina says, looking at Noah who awkwardly says hello and offers to shake her hand. "In this family, we hug 🥰"

You and Joe were the last to be greeted as you stood all the way in the back, checking in on your best friend as the line went in.

"Hello, Mrs. Carisi", you said to the two women, giving them a warm smile, "I was raised never to come empty-handed, so I brought a few bottles of my homemade lemonade, where can I put it?"

The lemonade was a quick success, and several times you had to decline giving out the recipe, siteing it was a family recipe.

Joe was still a bit awkward at first. The amount of people there, crowding the house was almost too overwhelming to him and he contemplated making a run for it

That was until someone clapped him on the shoulder.

"You seem a bit tense, son, why don't you have a few sips of this beer, you'll feel right at home." It was Sonny's grandfather, Giovanni.

The older man was a good character reader, which was probably why he made such an outstanding officer turned detective in his time.

Joe gratefully took the beer from the older man and thanked him, "Thank you, Mr. Carisi"

"Call me Nonno Gio, Sonny tells me you're half Italian?"

And before Joe had time to think, he'd gotten emerged in a deep conversation with Giovanni and Dominick Sr.

Only when Sonny's aunt Maria came over, did Joe manage to get away. "Please don't fry the poor guy out, dad, he's not a suspect for the two of you to question. Besides, we need an extra pair of hands in the kitchen, y/n was put on babysitting duties 😅"

Joe is almost grateful to get away, although he won't get to spend time with you.

However, when he sees you, sitting on the floor with the kids, drawing funny images on a piece of paper for them, he swears his heart skips a beat.

When you finally get a moment away from the kids, you make your way to the kitchen to see if you can help with anything, and Serafina tells you to join Joe with the tomato-peeling. Your best friend immediately wanting to show you the way Nonna Elena taught him.

His arms wrapping around you as you stood in front of him, so he could best show you.

And you felt your face flush at the situation, the crush you had on him only heightening.

He was none the wiser at the effect it had on you, but was also so happy to have you in his arms like that.

At the end of the evening, and the long line of hugs that had followed, everyone were making their way to their cars, with two jars of tomato sauce each.

However, you and Joe were asked to stay back while the others left.

Well, more so him, since you were his ride back to the city.

He came back out of the kitchen with teary eyes, and a small notebook clutched to his chest.

"Jose? Are you alright?" You asked, worried something might have happened.

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you 🥹"

Once back in the city, you dropped him off at his place, and he leant over the center console, finally pressing his lips to yours.

"Today has taught me a lot, y/n and I--I want more than just friendship with you--"

You cut him off before he could finish with a kiss, smiling into it, "I want that too, Jose, more than anything 🥹"

~~~

Tagging:

@plaidbooks @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @thatesqcrush @alwaysachorusgirl @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @bisexual-dreamer02 @misscharlielulu @xoxabs88xox @muchadoaboutcj @beatrice-san @meetmeatyourworst @thats-jaywalking @cursedashes @mysoulisasunflower @crazy4chickennuggets @imaginelover88 @beccabarba @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @guitita @ladylionstar @achataa @nessamc @peauxheaux @silversprings-mp3 @polkadotpenguin16 @pepperbstark @im-a-slut-for-this-man2 @chickensarentcheap @irishavengersassemble

Wanna be on the tag list? Fill out this form to be part of the team 🥰

[astraearinehart]

──listening to Liz’s response, Stella nodded, took a moment to think as she savored the taste of her coffee. lifting a hand, she gestured for the waitress, a sweet smile plastered on her lips when they approached a moment later. “can you please bring me a new one, this one has gotten cold,” she said as she handed her the cup and then leaned a little closer as she almost whispered a “just add a bit more of whiskey in this,” with a playful wink. her blue eyes followed the retreating form of the server for a collection of seconds and then she turned back to Liz, this time her smile was more genuine than merely polite. “sounds like, at this rate, you need a house big enough to fit four babies and their needs…” she laughed, fondly. “maybe a house with a garden?” she exclaimed, enthusiastically. “I had seen a few very beautiful mansions on Staten Island, a few on Brooklyn…” she mused, tapping her finger against the table’s wooden surface as she thought. “but I wanted to find a place closer to yours so I got a penthouse across Central Park,” she shrugged, words spoken in a matter of fact tone. “but I can contact the realtor if you are interested!” but she knew her psych was fragile at present, given how close she was with Claude and how shaken she felt after the truth came out, so she didn’t want to seem like she was rushing her.

her fingers combed through Liz’s golden locks as she nodded, laughed a little. “we can look at cribs?” when in fact she meant the small, tiny ones you put by the side of the bed or the end of it while the baby is still a newborn; she had in fact done this two, the first three months, then moved Liz to her own room and the nursery might have been simply, but it had been beautiful, fashioned to Stella’s taste. “those are gender neutral,” she teased. “as are the carriers, the car-seats…” in truth, she was searching for something to help her daughter with, keep her head a little busy until she would feel prepared to face what her father had deprived her of all those years.

when the topic shifted to that traumatic event she had been through for a whole damn month, Stella felt partially guilty for knowing that already, but also didn’t want to shake her trust in Claude even more so she didn’t want to admit to knowing of some details already when Liz had mentioned it; she hoped Claude wouldn’t, somehow, fuck it up for her and end up telling Liz how he had told her. but hearing Liz say she had gotten professional help made her smile a little, feeling more at ease. “did it not help to lessen the nightmares?” she questioned, quietly, thanked the waitress when she brought her new cup of coffee, and then turned her attention fully on her daughter once more. “you may find it weird,” she laughed a bit, “but I only find solace at church after the attack and my brother’s passing…” she admitted; she was under the impression that she had mentioned something about the church to Liz before, but she wasn’t entirely certain. “oh…” she exclaimed at the following words, then nodded. “how would he…” cutting herself off, she waved a hand dismissively, then wrapped her arm around Liz as she rested her head on her shoulder, leaning her head lightly against her daughter’s. “good. he deserved that..” she in fact had a shit ton of questions but she thought Liz wouldn’t have the answers to them.

⸻ Elizabeth wanted to revamp her office to make a nursery for the new upcoming twins. Upon her mother's question. ❛ I'm not using it that much, currently I'm at Alex's. I haven't figured out what I want to do. I don't have many rooms available there. ❜ She had transformed one of the rooms into her office and the other was the guest room that her father used to stay there when he helped her to watch the twins. In truth, she was starting to miss her own place now and part of her wanted to go to another place because she didn't want her mother they argued one day, passing on her face that she bought that place for her and she couldn't have her there. ⎯ If the older Aussie had no idea what her plans were, now she knows.

Her mother is right, it wasn't like the new set of twins would be the size of Beau and Lilou and need their own space, she would want to have them close to take care of them. She felt Stella playing with her hair, and her attention diverted to the little menaces, both of them cackled when Stella tickled them. They picked the coloring paper, although neither of them liked it that much. It is a hard task for them. Drawing is something the pair enjoys doing. They nodded and turned the paper to the other side. ⎯ ❛ Only when I get to know the genders. I don't want to build anything not knowing what they are. ❜ Of course, a few basic things she could try to provide.

She was a bit taken aback when Stella took her hand and gave her a light squeeze. ❛ Yeah, but I had all the professional support I needed. ❜ She admitted, that the only place she feels better is attending the Church. Liz didn't share more than what she was willing to. ❛ No. Alex found him, and… ❜ A pause as her gaze was distracted by watching her twins briefly. ❛ K-I-L-L. ❜ She assumed this was what happened to him because she saw or witnessed a little of what her man did for revenge. It was a little surprise to her to see the man was still alive after… What she saw. Not that he would last long. Liz rested her head on her mother's shoulder while watching her little ones.

[mad4turtles]

Nothing Haunts Us (like the things we don’t say)

Part 3/3

(part 2 here)

(part 1 here)

---

The journey from Manhattan to Staten Island by car is about an hour and a half, give or take traffic and weather. The turtle tank halves that with Donnie white-knuckling the wheel, nearly flattening parked cars and pissing off dozens of drivers, horns blaring and furious curses bouncing against the tinted windows.

April's stomach is doing crazy gymnastics that would make Mikey jealous. Her nails bite into the plush leather of her seat as she fights for balance every time the tank swerves or picks up speed.

It's still not fast enough.

Donnie had alerted the tank almost immediately after Leo kicked them out of the Mind Meld to come to pick them up. Splinter had surprised them from inside once that hatch lowered, yelling at them to get in and not waiting before yanking Casey and April in with his tail. Raph had filled him in as best as he could, still shaken. The rat man listened to his eldest and seemed to age ten years. April doesn't want to look in the mirror for a while, afraid she might find grey strands of her own.

She tries not to think about the last time she'd been to Staten Island, but she does anyway. She remembers every moment before it, too. She remembers holding Splinter as he broke down, head in clawed hands that trembled, silent sobs shaking his form as he prayed and begged for his second youngest child. She remembers looking over her shoulder, tears streaming down her face, to see lady brain face laughing at their grief. April had never wanted anything more dead in her life.

She remembers walking the deserted streets, holding Splinter's hand, and stumbling upon a catatonic Casey holding one of Leo's katana like a lifeline. She remembers the haunted gleam in his eyes seconds before he broke down in her arms.

She remembers getting the call on her communicator, Raph's breathless laughter stained with tears—“We got 'im! Leo's alive, we got 'im back!”

It was only ten minutes, but it was the worst ten minutes of her life.

(She refuses to think about the moment right after the portal had shut. She wants to forget the sound of bones breaking under cruel, cold metallic fists, the cries of pain and fear, that final scream before the comm finally went dead—

But she can't. Not after what Leo had said. Not after she'd slapped him for it.)

They make it to the island at the thirty-minute mark—an eternity to April—tires screeching against the asphalt, but Donnie doesn't stop. Mikey's still on Casey's lap, tucked inside his shell, Casey's arms wrapped tight around him as he strains against his seatbelt as the tank swerves again. Splinter curses loudly in Japanese (a nasty one, too, despite every young ear in the vehicle understanding him), claws scraping against the floor, but he says nothing about Donnie's reckless driving. The look on Donnie's face screams 'I'm this close to a nasty meltdown and my fingers are touching', so it's probably for the best—

“There he is!” Raph shrieks. Everyone goes flying as Donnie stomps on the breaks.

April doesn't wait for the room to stop spinning before she's tearing her seatbelt off, racing out of the tank before the hatch is fully lowered. Donnie beats her out by a millisecond.

She sees Leo, and the breath leaves her lungs.

Leo sticks out like a sore thumb against the twilight, mask tails fluttering in the breeze where he stands still as stone at the edge of the bay. Both katanas are extended in front of him. She can't see his face, but she can feel his fear as they close the distance.

April skids to a halt a beat before Donnie, the others piling in close behind her. Leo doesn't move, nothing to indicate he knows they're here. She can't even tell if he's breathing. His arms shake.

Donnie's voice is the knife that cuts the silence. “Leo.”

Leo whirls, blades raised to guard, his eyes wide as saucers and bright with unshed tears and emotions too numerous to pin down—except for fear, confusion, guilt, and uncertainty that should never be allowed. Not here. Not with them.

His cheek is as bright as a neon sign, sore and dark with the start of a bruise where she'd hit him.

“How—” Leo's voice breaks like glass. He swallows, lowers his swords and tries again. “How did—what are you all doing—how did you—?”

“Ninja Mind Meld lets you see, feel and hear everything the other person does,” Donnie says, and now April can hear how clipped and cold he sounds, like every word out of his mouth is a battle to keep it below a scream. “You may have tried to kick us out—a valiant effort—but you can't hide everything from us, Nardo, truth spell or no. Least of all from me.”

Leo stares at him, all of them. His gaze lingers on Raph and Splinter—the worst victims of his verbal attacks save for his twin—before he looks away again, staring at his feet. “Right,” he says, resigned. “Guess that means you... you know why I'm...”

Please don't, April thinks, begs. Please don't say it. Please don't—

“Yeah. Yeah, we do.” Donnie takes a firm step forward, eyes never leaving Leonardo. Leo shuffles half a step back. Pain flickers across Donnie's face before he pulls the mask back down. “You were trying to go back, weren't you.”

It's not a question. Leo answers anyway. “I was.”

Sweet Jesus.

Mikey whimpers, Raph's breath hitches, and Splinter clenches his fists hard enough that April hears the bones crack. Casey says nothing, jaw clenched.

“But I didn't want to.”

April blinks. She can smell Raph's Confusion Stink.

“What?” Donnie asks.

Leo swallows again, eyes shining with the threat of tears. He clenches his jaw like the stubborn thing he is to keep them from falling and meets no one's eyes. “I said—I said before that you'd have all been better off if I hadn't—hadn't come back, so... I thought, since I said it, it had to be true. That I really think that—so I came here. To—to try to go back—” His voice cracks and the tears fall. He glares at his feet, fists clenched tight around his katanas. “But I—I tried to m-make a portal, a-and—and it wouldn't work. I can see the prison dimension so clear in my head 'cause I dream about it every night, I can see—him, 'cause all can hear is him screaming at me and, and hitting me over and over, and—and it wouldn't work, because—”

His katanas clatter loudly to the ground as Leo drops them. He wraps his arms around himself, ducking his head as he trembles. April watches, her heart breaking in a million different ways. He looks every bit his age. Sixteen years old and scared.

“I don't wanna go,” Leo whimpers, hands clasped against his chest like he's holding something precious there—whatever it is, it's the only thing holding him together. “I know I said it, so it—it must be true, but I—I don't wanna go back, I'm scared and I don't wanna go—”

Donnie stomps the distance between them. Leo looks up and goes ridged, eyes wide. April doesn't blame him because Donnie looks ready to kill something, every muscle wound tighter than a copper spring. He lifts an arm high, and Leo flinches—

April reaches for Donnie a beat too late.“Donnie—!”

Donnie grabs Leo by the shoulder and yanks him into his chest, arms snapping around him in a tight embrace. Leo stares straight ahead, dumbstruck. April drops her hand.

Leo blinks. “... Don...?”

“I'm gonna say a bunch of things now,” Donnie says against Leo's shoulder, and he sounds all kinds of pissed off, yet it's the softest April has ever heard him. “And I need you to listen good because I will never be this emotionally vulnerable again for the rest of my life. Not necessarily by choice, but because feelings are difficult for me, as you are aware, and somehow this spell lifts the cap off of every bottled-up thing in my neurodivergent brain. So... so listen up, okay?”

“... 'kay.”

Donnie takes a deep, deep breath. April can't see his face, but he can hear his grimace, uncomfortable even without the 'cap' keeping every thought and feeling at bay. But he doesn't let go or loosen his hold around Leo. If anything, as Leo relaxes against him, Donnie's arms tighten.

And then—“I adore you, Leonardo.”

Leo gasps softly. Donnie keeps going, arms tightening.

“And you are my twin. Biology be damned, you are my twin brother in every way that matters. We balance each other out. I'm book-smart, the best with machines, engineering and science in general, while you're street-smart, witty and honest to god sly in ways I could never be. You fuel my love of musical theatre and act as my soundboard when I get suck on a problem. I'm your cuddle buddy while we're watching old Barbie movies when you're having a Bad Brain Day. You're my sword, and I'm your shield. That's you and me. A pair of disasters who barely function on our own but are unstoppable when we're together. That's how it's supposed to be. That's how I want it to be, for however long we have on this dumb planet. Because I love you, Nardo.

“You're my twin, my only twin, and I love you so freaking much it's scary. I'm nothing without you. I felt you leave this dimension the day we nearly lost you. I thought I felt you die. I never want to go through that visceral pain ever, ever again. I swear to whatever higher power I don't believe in, if you ever think about leaving us again, if you make me an only middle child, I will hunt you down like a dog, drag you by your shell and glue The Bucket to your goddamn, blue gum-ball son of a bitch head for the rest of your life.”

April huffs something between a laugh and a sob, echoed by Raph as he swipes a thumb under his eye. Of course, anything 'heartfelt' from Donnie would be sprinkled with insults and half-baked threats. But just as Raph hovers and mothers, how Mikey paints and attacks with cuddles and kisses, it's just one of the many ways Donnie wears his love.

Tears stream down Leo's face, arms slowly coming up to hug Donnie back just as tight, fingers digging into the grooves of the battle shell. “But—but you said—“ He hiccups. “You said we weren't—you called me a selfish prick. I called you s-so many awful things. I hurt everyone, you, Raph, Dad, Mikey—“

“Yeah, you did. So did I. We were pissed off and tired, and we hurt each other. But that's the thing about feelings...” Donnie draws back just enough to look Leo in the eye. April can see the dampness on his cheeks as he smiles. He presses his forehead against Leo's. “They're not facts. And you know how I am about facts.”

Leo's lip trembles against his smile. “Yeah. Y-You're like the freakin' Bible, but without the fear of god.”

“Funny, but I'm still talking.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Thank you. And the cool thing about feelings?”

Donnie takes Leo's chin between his fingers and lifts his head to meet his eyes. “They're true in the moment, but they can change. And yeah, sure, I'm still nice and pissed off that you punched me, bit me, told me you were better off dead and then ran off, but mostly? I'm so freaking glad you're safe, and you have no idea how sorry I am for what I said and did. I'm so sorry, Leo. You're my little brother, my twin, my better half, and you mean everything to me. That is a fact. The day it isn't is the day I defy the laws of the universe to make it so. Okay?”

Leo stares at Donnie. April sees the second he breaks before he launches himself at Donnie, sending them both crashing to the asphalt.

“I'm so sorry, Don-Don!” Leo wails into Donnie's chest, a heartbreaking sound that finally pushes April over the edge as she wipes fruitlessly at her own tears. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I love you, I love you so goddamn much, I don't wanna leave, I wanna stay, I wanna stay, I'm sorry—!”

Donnie clings to Leo, burying his face into the crook between Leo's neck and shoulder. The twins wrap their arms and legs around each other and hold fast; it'd take a miracle (or a death wish) to break them apart. No one tries. Instead, Raph and Mikey rush past and skid across the concrete, barrelling into the twins and wrapping them up in their arms. Mikey's wailing just as loud into Leo's arm. Raph's tears are silent as he crushes his little brothers against him.

This would be where April would join in, screeching her name and love for her family at the top of her lungs and clinging to her boys. Instead she hangs back, her hand still burning as she clenches it tight behind her. Casey notices and says nothing, draping an arm around her shoulders.

Splinter hobbles over, reaching for Leo through the barricade of sobbing turtles to cup his striped cheek. Leo's head snaps up. “Dad, Daddy, I'm so sorry,” he says, all shades of miserable and guilt ridden, “I didn't—I never meant to—I know you tried, you always t-tried, I know you love us, and I love you, I—”

“Hush, Baby Blue,” Splinter says, cradling his sons' face in both hands and kissing his forehead. “I know. It's alright. Everything will be alright. For now, let's get you home.”

Leo sniffles and nods. “Okay. Okay. I really wanna go home.”

“Good,” Raph says roughly. “'Cos after what you pulled, that's where your ass is stayin'. I'm invoking Dad's grounding privileges, and you, little brother, are grounded for a week.”

Leo chuckles wetly, nuzzling his cheek against Raph's arm. “I'll take that, boss man. Honestly, as long as I can still get cuddles, I don't care how long you ground me.”

“How about a year?”

“... I care a little bit. And where the hell are April and Casey?”

April stiffens. Casey jumps, then points at himself in question.

“Yes, you, you big turds! I wanna hug my other little brother right freaking now!” Leo wriggles one arm free from the embrace and reaches for the boy, making grabby motions. His smile is wide and real, but still, it trembles. “And I want my big sister.”

April's breath catches.

“I wanna hug her and tell her I love her, and I forgive her for everything. Please?”

Oh, damn you, kid.

She and Casey charge the turtles and slam into the embrace, Raph lifting an arm to let them squeeze in. Casey winds his arms around Donnie and Leo, the former refusing to budge even as he frees one hand to clench the back of Casey's shirt. April peppers Leo's face with kisses until he's giggling, and then finally, finally, she wraps her arms around her little brother. “I'm so sorry, baby,” she whispers against his bruised cheek.

He frees one arm to snake it around her waist and squeeze. She feels him smile. “I know. I forgive you.”

April smiles back.

~0o0~

True to form, they have a blanket fort constructed within minutes of getting home.

Raph orders from Run Of the Mill, and Splinter makes good on his promised hugs. Mikey makes too many cookies, and Casey cries into his hot chocolate through Ratatouille. April snorts into hers during Howl's breakdown in Howl's Moving Castle and ends up with chocolate up her nose. Leo laughs in her face. It's the most delightful sound, but she still chucks marshmallows at him.

Donnie doesn't leave Leo's side for longer than he deems necessary. Leo is in no rush to stop him, a clinginess that she hasn't seen from either of them since they were younger. Or since Leo's recovery after the invasion.

She keeps one eye on them for most of the night, draped over or wrapped up in each other as close as they can get, sharing blankets and pillows, fingers interlocked as they watch movie after movie, stealing food and doing absolutely nothing about it save for the odd glare. It's the cutest damn thing she's ever seen. Splinter pushes his ninja skills to the limits to secretly film them with his phone.

She texts him to send her the video. He replies with three minutes' worth of footage and a thumbs-up emoji.

Everyone else has fallen asleep, Lost World playing softly in the background when April hears them whispering. It's rude, but she keeps her head down where it's pillowed on Casey's chest and pricks her ears.

“You know how I record everything?” Donnie says, unprompted.

“Yeah? You recorded Hypno's spell that one time. Do you still have it?”

“Freakin' yeah, I do. Kinda wanna use it again, too.”

Leo giggles sleepily. “Yeah, it was fun. Weird, but fun.”

“Sums up our lives perfectly.”

“For real, though. Why'd you bring it up?”

Donnie says nothing. April slowly, carefully turns her head to face them, mindful of the boy she's using as her pillow. Leo's legs are draped over Donnie's lap, the slider nestled against his older twin as he absently plays with the fingers of Donnie's left hand, the other arm wrapped around Leo's shell. They're both in their biggest, cosiest hoodies—matching unicorn ones Donnie had bought for Leo as 'compensation' after the last bout of Rat Flu. It's a wretchedly adorable picture, but April can't snap a pic and risk being discovered. Curses.

Then Donnie says, “We heard what happened in the prison dimension.”

Leo stiffens, eyes haunted. So does April.

Donnie, what the hell?

“... what?”

Donnie's eyes are locked on the screen, watching the T-Rex chase the characters through the jungle. “Your comms were still operational,” he says tonelessly. “It's a marvel, really. I hadn't expected that to be a thing my tech can do, so that's cool. But yeah. We heard everything. I still have the recording stashed somewhere in my hard drives. I haven't listened to it since I found it, but something illogical in me tells me not to delete it.”

April knows all of this. She was there when Donnie chanced across the audio file and held him during his breakdown. She was there when it happened, watching the blood drain from Splinter's face as the monster purred with a wickedness that chills her to the bone even now—

“My wrath will be reserved for you alone.”

She remembers the crunch of bones, the sound of skin and flesh tearing, crumbling concrete and her little brother's screams of pain. A whimper, so small and afraid she almost hadn't heard it, and then—

“Wipe that grin off your face!”

—before the line went dead. She'd been so sure Leo had gone with it.

Wide-eyed, Leo curls closer to his twin. “... oh.”

Donnie rests his chin atop Leo's head. “Yeah.”

“... that's why you got so pissed off when I asked for your password.”

“... yeah. I didn't want you to hear it and trigger you. It's bad enough that you went through it at all. You've barely healed from the physical wounds. I didn't want you hurt because I can't delete a stupid recording of the worst moment of your life. Our lives. But for the life of me, I can't delete it. It's like a part of me wants to hold onto it as a reminder.” He scoffs. “As if I'll ever forget how I nearly lost my best friend.”

Oh. Oh.

The thing that pushed Donnie over the edge, ensued a fight and sent Leo away—

Donnie wears his love with layers of sarcasm, empty threats and insults. His worry isn't much different, not even under a truth spell. In trying to protect his brother, Donnie had nearly driven him off.

Jeez. These boys are gonna kill me.

Then Leo laughs softly, scrubbing his dry cheek with his shoulder. “Dude, you should've just told me. I wouldn't have looked or even asked if you'd said.”

“You didn't ask, therefore, I was not compelled to tell you.”

“But you literally just told me, unprompted, that you had it. We're watching CGI dinosaurs kill people, and you decided to confess that you screamed at me because you were scared I'd trigger myself over a recording. I did not ask you a damn thing.”

Donnie stares straight ahead, eyes wide like he's come to a revelation of some kind. “... Huh. Well, shit.”

Leo muffles his laughter against Donnie's hoodie. “You're an idiot.”

Donnie scowls but cuddles in closer, de-tangling his hand from Leo's to tug the blanket over them. “Yeah, well, if we're going by twin logic, I'm only half an idiot, making you the other half. Together we share one brain cell.”

“No, that's half a brain cell. Together we make one whole brain cell and one whole idiot. Wait, no—this is getting away from me. I'm really stupid right now, I can't do twin math.”

“Yeah, no, please never try to math again. Leave the thinking to me.”

Leo snickers. “Yeah. Book-smarts, street-smarts. Sword and shield.” Leo goes quiet for a heartbeat, his smile a soft thing April rarely sees. “... that was really sweet, actually. I mean, the whole speech was just. Top-notch, not gonna lie—”

“You physically can't.”

“I know, so, yeah, like. It was nice. Really nice. I... really needed to hear it. And I really am sorry for the things I said. And for beating the shit outta you.”

“I forgive you. Already said that.”

“I know. Just making sure you know it's true.” Leo smiles and shuts his eyes, cuddling closer. “I love you. Weirdo.”

Donnie smiles back, closing his eyes. “Love you, too. Dum-dum.”

Soon, their breaths even out. April watches them a moment longer, safe, sound and comfortable in each other's embrace, her heart full of love for the pair of idiots she calls her brothers. She snuggles against Casey, bringing his arm over her shoulders as she closes her eyes, finally dozing off.

She has high hopes for tomorrow.

~0o0~

Day Three begins with a phone call from Draxum.

After calling in a favour from an old contact, he got his hands on a scroll from Witch Town detailing the terms and conditions of spells of this nature and, more importantly, how to break them.

A little late in the game, but better late than never.

“According to the terms,” Draxum says, eyes roaming down the length of the scroll while Mikey sits behind him on top of the couch, braiding his hair, “to break it, the afflicted one must confess a truth from the depths of their heart that would otherwise be left to wither with time. In other words, go big or go home.”

Huh. It's that simple.

April wants to hit something. So bad.

“You're seriously telling me,” Leo seethes beside a silent Donnie, “that all we had to do—”

“Was having a therapy session like I said we should do literally in the first place? Pretty much,” Mikey chimes with a grin that teeters between sour and smug, finishing Draxum's braid. He slides from the top of the chair onto Draxum's lap, landing upside down with his feet on the yokai's shoulders. Draxum sighs but lets him have his way. “Could've avoided all this drama if we'd just talked to each other, but nah, y'all said to hell with that crap, I'm gonna make a scene in my own dang home and—”

“You're a real bitter piece of shit when you're compelled, eh, Miguel?” Leo grins, taking the sting out of the jab. Mikey grins back, shooting finger guns. Draxum sighs again. Donnie looks at his lap and says nothing.

Raph claps his hands together, grinning. “Great! We break the spell early, and everything can go back to normal! Which hopefully involves being more open with each other so we don't have situations like this again! Please. Raph can only take so much.”

“Loud and clear, big guy.” Leo drapes an arm around Donnie's shoulders. “I know I'm like, the king of emotional repression and bad coping mechanisms save for Dad, but... I'll try to be more honest with you guys going forward. For real.”

April reaches for him, cupping his cheek in her palm. The bruising is already fading. “That's all we ask, Leo,” she says. Leo puts his hand over hers and smiles.

Mikey mimics Raph and claps his hands once. “Aight! So all we gotta do is confess a deep-seated truth about ourselves and this nightmare is over! I'll go first!” He squirms on Draxum's lap so that he's right side up, crossing his legs as he clears his throat pointedly. Unconsciously, April leans in. They all do.

And despite offering to go first, despite all he preaches, Mikey hesitates. He twists his fingers on his lap. “... so, um... the truth is, um—m-my truth, um...”

On Draxum's left, Splinter smiles. “Go ahead, my son. It's alright.”

Mikey offers his Dad a wavering smile before taking a breath. And another. “Okay. The truth is... the truth is that I'm scared of—of growing up. I mean, not physically, and maybe not the same way April or Casey might be, 'cause they'll have to look for jobs, places to live and worry about adult human things. Me, though? I don't know what the heck I'm supposed to do.” He looks at his hands, three-fingered and calloused, stained with paint and faint scars like cracked pottery running under the length of black wrappings.

“There's so much I wanna do. I wanna show off my art. I wanna travel the world and see where Dad grew up. I wanna make Papa proud and master mystic arts. But at the same time... I know I can't do all of them, at least not with this whole situation,” he gestures to his face. “And using a broach... that's not who I really am. And, these are all things I gotta think about when I get older, and I'm—I'm scared I'm not gonna be ready for it! I'm scared I'm gonna let people down 'cause I'll never reach my full potential, I'm scared of—of changing from who I am now to whoever I'll be as an adult! And—and as much as I complain and moan about it... I'm scared of not being your little brother anymore.”

April doesn't have to touch her face to know she's crying. The rest of her boys aren't faring much better. Even Draxum looks choked, blinking a bit too much to be natural. She's surprised Splinter isn't outright bawling. Then again, maybe not. With his past, she wonders how often he'd asked himself the same questions, hid the same fears under costumes and layers of pride.

“Well, you don't have to worry about that, Mike,” Donnie says, clearing his throat when his voice cracks in a vain effort to sound bored. “You'll always be our little brother, no matter how much you grow up. And all those fears you mentioned? Psht. Child's play. You're far more capable and remarkable than you realize. Have more faith in yourself. Besides, if you do, in an impossible scenario, happen to fail, you'll still have us. Capiche?”

They stare at Donnie.

Damn, April thinks. Truth spells are really something.

A few tears roll down Mikey's cheeks before he scrubs them away with a wobbly grin. “Y-yeah. Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Dee.”

Draxum lays a hand on Mikey's shoulder. “How do you feel?” he asks.

Mikey takes another deep breath through his nose. “I feel... better, I guess. Feels good to let it out.”

“Good. Do you know who filled my coat with those disgusting jelly beans last night?”

“Uhhhh no idea! Sorry, Papa!”

April chokes. Leo and Raph gape. Casey gasps. Donnie nods with a slow grin.

Mikey blinks. Then he squeals, leaping off Draxum's lap and pumping his fists in the air. “Ohhhhh hell yeah! I broke the spell, baby! I can say whatever I want again!”

“Excellent,” Draxum nods. “But that also means I know you just lied to me, so no jelly beans for a week. Busted.”

Mikey's grin drops like a stone. “Aw, nuts.”

“And on that note, I guess I'll go next. Go big or go home, right?” Leo sits up straight with a sigh. He scratches the back of his head, his other hand squeezing Donnie's when his twin reaches for him.

“So. Pretty sure it's no big secret that I still have nightmares of the—the prison dimension and stuff. I think about it a lot, about what could've happened if Mikey hadn't gotten me out. And yeah, sometimes when I'm having a bad day, I think, 'maybe if I'd stayed there, things would suck but not for long, right?' Which, yes, before you say anything, those are Very Bad Thoughts to have and I should've said something sooner, but... y'know me. King of bad coping mechanisms, yo...”

He holds up a weak peace sign, eyes welling up. Donnie squeezes his hand tighter. Leo scoots closer, sniffling. “And... and what's really wild is I didn't—I didn't wanna go the first time. I really, really didn't. But that bastard was too strong for all of us at our strongest. It was me, or you. And Raph was right. It was time I stepped up and started acting like a hero, a leader. And heroes sometimes have to make sacrifices, so...”

April expects the heartbreak in Splinter's eyes, the fresh tears in Mikey's, and the forced indifference from Donnie. She doesn't expect Raph's deep growl, and it startles her.

Leo seems to realize his error and tries to scoot away, but Raph is faster. He reaches out and grabs Leo's chin—careful, even at his angriest, always with them—turning Leo's head so their eyes meet.

“You,” Raph hisses through clenched teeth, “will never do that again. I've told you once, and I'll tell you again: You're my little brother first, and as my little brother, I would very much like you to live.” The anger abates a fraction, a wet sheen glistening in Raph's eyes as his hand moves to cup Leo's cheek instead. “You don't have to die to be a hero. You don't have to And I'm sorry, so damn sorry, that I ever gave you the impression you have to push yourself to your breaking point to prove you're worth something. Because you're worth everything, Leo. And I don't care if you're not a great leader—those guys die for good causes and get made into legends or whatever, but good leaders? They stick around and lead the teams they're put in charge of. And that's what you're gonna do. What we're gonna do, together, from here on out. Okay?”

Leo stares at Raph with swirling eyes. He shuts them and sucks in a deep breath. When he opens his eyes again, he's smiling. “Loud and clear, big bro. And for the record... about that whole 'worth something' thing? I'm starting to believe it. I do believe it. But it's nice to hear it every once in a while, so... thanks.”

Raph grins back.

Then Donnie leans forward. “Say, Leonard, do you know where my favourite fidget spinner went by any chance? Also, Raphaela, were you the one to bend my metal straw after you made that fruit smoothie yesterday?”

Leo sweats. “Haven't the foggiest, brother dear!”

Raph chuckles and looks away. “Nah, nah that—that wasn't, no, it was—oh! Oh! Hey, we broke the spell!”

“Oh hell yeah, you're right! We can lie again, sweet pizza supreme in the—oh, wait.”

Donnie grinds his teeth hard enough that April can hear them, his bo transforming into a rocket-boosted hammer drill. “You sons of bitches—!”

“Wait, wait!” Mikey slides on his knees between a livid Donnie and their quivering brothers, arms spread. “Before you blast 'em, you gotta break your own spell! I'm sure there are plenty of nice things you can think to say before—”

“I already broke it.”

Silence. 

Mikey blinks. Leo and Raph blink. Draxum and Splinter stare. Casey tilts his head. 

April says, “What?”

Donnie leans back with a sigh, the anger leaving him in a rush as the hammer drill dissolves into mystic pixels. “I broke my spell hours ago. You may recall the incredibly touching and heartfelt speech I bestowed upon my then-wayward twin here. That was when I no longer felt compelled to tell the truth or answer every question asked of me. I thought that was just me going non-verbal after stressing out for hours, but it wasn't until Leo pointed... something out to me that I will not disclose at this juncture—because I can do that now, hell yes—that I realized I had broken free of the spell. So, yeah. Tello takes the first prize for beating bogus spells. You may applaud.”

Everyone stares for a beat until Mikey starts whooping and clapping. Casey follows with equal enthusiasm while Raph rolls his eyes but claps, too, ever the supportive big brother. The co-parents share a look that speaks a thousand words, and April shakes her head, because of course he broke it first. Always the overachiever, even when he's not aware of it.

Which means that everything he said after, to Leo and just now to Mikey...

April's heart melts. Aww, Dee.

Leo, remarkably, says nothing. Instead, he shuffles back to Donnie's side and throws his arms around his shoulders, pressing a loud, smacking kiss against his cheek. Donnie shrieks in protest, arms flailing as he curses Leo like a Japanese sailor. Clinging like a limpet, Leo throws his head back with a laugh that fills the lair. Mikey and Raph, as usual, are quick to join in on the cuddling, squeezing until Donnie stops squirming and gives in.

All it takes is a look from Leo before April charges in, screeching her name at the top of her lungs, dropping right on top of a howling Mikey. Casey flops across Raph's shoulders, scrambling for purchase like a gremlin until the snapper is giggling—“Casey, stop, yer ticklin' me~!”—while Draxum and Splinter watch on.

April squeezes Leo, smushes her cheek against Mikey's, and lets herself breathe. 

Finally, she thinks. Finally. I got my brothers back.

~0o0~

The following week, they bump into the witch that cursed them. Her face is twisted into an ugly, smug thing when she catches the turtles flinching.

April pulls out her bat and swings.

“What the crap, April?!” Mikey screeches, hands hovering over the unconscious, bruised yokai. The twins are barely standing as they howl with laughter. Raph puts his face in his hands to muffle a scream.

April shoulders her bat and grins. “Just giving her my honest opinion.”

---

(This is so long! I just didn't want to add a part four XD)

Reblogs are appreciated :)

Feel free to send more requests, I love writing for these boys <3

[sal-is-my-favourite]

Remember, Remember the 5th of November 🔥

Sal Vulcano x reader

⚠️smut⚠️

As you stir awake, you're wrapped in Sal's arms. He's still asleep, you lay for a while with your head on his chest just listening to him softly snore. You peel yourself away, getting out of bed you head to the bathroom.

Today is your 5 year Wedding Anniversary with Sal, You both were working today but had plans to go for dinner in the evening.

You jump in the shower and stand under the warm water which helps your aching muscles from the gym yesterday. A large pair of hands are placed on your waist and you jump a little not hearing Sal come into the bathroom. You smile as he begins to kiss your neck, his body pressed against your back.

"Happy Anniversary Mr Vulcano"

"Happy Anniversary Mrs Vulcano, I love you". Sal pushes your forward and your hands land on the wall, before you could protest he pushes his hard dick into you earning a surprised moan.

Sal grabs a fist of your long brown hair tugging slightly as he thrusts his hips against you.

The sound of your wet bodies slapping together has you turned on even more.

"Fuck, Sal i'm gonna come!"

Sal lets go of your hair and grabs your waist digging his nails in as he pounds into you.

"Fuck i'm gonna cum!".

Your screams echo in the shower as you cum, tightening around Sal. He throws his head back moaning as you do so.

Just as Sal's about to cum he hears someone shouting his name. He stills inside you and listens again, you bite your lip as you come around him again due to how deep he is.

"Sally!!!"

"Sal!"

"Salvatore!!"

Sal drops his head realising who's at the house, he pulls out of you and grabs a towel before heading to the bathroom door and opening it just a smidge.

"Guys?! What are you doing!"

Q,Joe and Murr come upstairs with the camera crew following them.

"Good morning! We're coming to take you to your punishment" Joe grins.

"Really?! C'mon man it's my anniversary!"

"Let's go be dry and dressed in 10 mins!" Murr says before the men head downstairs.

Sal closes the door and puts his head against it, You grab your towel and kiss Sal's shoulder. He softly smiles at you.

"I'm sorry I never knew they were coming"

"It's ok Sal, the sooner you get to work the sooner you'll be back and we can finish what we started". You give him a soft kiss before getting dried and dressed for work.

A couple of hours later - Sal's POV

My punishment was to be a horrible judge on a kids talent show, it was tough but i'm glad it was over.

I get a call whilst at work from an unknown caller, hesitant I answer.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Is that Mr Vulcano?"

"Yes it is, speaking?"

"Hi, i'm Jodie calling from Staten Island Univerity Hospital. It's regarding your wife. Earlier today she was brought in because she collapsed at work, I was calling to inform you."

"What?! I'll be right there!". Sal ends the call grabbing his jacket and car keys before racing across the city to get to you.

Running into the ER, Sal asks the receptionist where you are. She sends him to the room where you are.

Sal bursts in the room, you jump at the abrupt entrance.

"Baby! Are you ok? God why did nobody call sooner?!"

"Sal i'm ok, I didn't want to bother you at work". You say, Sal wraps his arms around you and you stroke his hair.

Sal sits on the edge of your bed.

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure I was fine then I blacked out and woke up here, the doctor has taken blood to see if they can see why I collapsed."

Doctor Young knocks on the door before coming in, she shakes Sal's hand and tells him she's a big fan before she opens the medical history folder.

"Ok, we took your blood Mrs Vulcano. Everything looked good apart from your Iron levels are a bit low due to your pregnancy but we'll prescribe you with some Iron tablets, the best thing to do is take a few days to recover and you'll be right as rain in no time"

I look at the doctor in shock, Sal had the same expression on his face.

"Pregnancy?" I ask.

"Yes, your results show you're roughly around 16 weeks pregnant. You weren't aware?"

I shake my head as a tear falls from my eyes. We have been trying for years to have a baby but we never had any luck so we stopped trying.

Sal places his hand on mine, his face stained with tears.

"Oh, in that case i'll get you sent for a scan straight away!". Doctor Young leaves the room and I start to sob.

Sal wraps his arms around you tightly, his own tears wetting your tshirt at the back.

"We're gonna have a baby!" He places his hand on your tummy and kisses your forehead.

[lawandorderimagines]

Word of Advice (Elliot Stabler x female reader)

“Denise, what are you doing here?” You weren’t expecting to see your mom and ten year old daughter at the precinct, though you told them that you’d meet them back at your apartment for dinner (if you were lucky enough to wrap up this case). She was carrying a large plastic bag. “Well, I had a feeling that you would be getting off late so I decided to bring dinner to you. Is there a place where we can sit?” You were about to take them to the break-room when Elliot walked in. 

“Hey Y/N, we have a lead out in Staten Island—” He stopped short when he noticed the two unfamiliar people. “Oh, Denise, Lily, this is my new partner, Elliot Stabler. Elliot, this is my mother-in-law Denise and my daughter Lily.” They shook hands and Elliot still looked shocked because you didn’t look old enough to be the mother of a fifth grader. You’d only transferred from Cyber Crimes almost a month ago, and you were still getting your bearings, getting your feet wet, so you didn’t really have enough time to tell him your whole life story. He only knew that you were married with a daughter.

“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.” They exchanged pleasantries with Elliot talking about your progression in the field over the last few weeks, your husband and his profession and how long you’ve been married before you really did have to follow that lead in Staten Island; you hugged Denise and kissed Lily on her cheek. “Don’t even touch that DS until all of your homework is done and lay your clothes out for tomorrow, okay? I love you.” You kissed her again on the top of her head as she replied, “I love you too.” As they were walking out the door, you peeked in the bag and saw a Tupperware container of last night’s leftover lasagna with a fork wrapped in a napkin along with a large chocolate brownie wrapped in aluminum foil; Denise always made the best brownies, which were made with espresso powder.

“I didn’t think you had a fifth grader. When you said you had a daughter, I imagined a toddler or at the very least a kindergartener.” You broke off half a piece of the brownie before giving him the other half wrapped in foil. “I understand. Lily’s dad and I were young when we had her, seventeen, eighteen years old, but we’ve known each other our whole lives.” After you put your food in the breakroom fridge, the two of you headed out to Staten Island where you told him everything, and he told you that he and his wife had their first daughter when they were around that age. “Families trading shifts to watch the baby so you could go to work and school. I worked at Hollister and [husband’s name] worked at the soft pretzel place.”

You weren’t expecting to find common ground with Elliot, especially this early into your partnership, but it was nice to talk to someone who understood what you went through as a teen parent. “We weren’t even dating when I got pregnant, we were just best friends, but there were rumors about us at school. He had just broken up with his girlfriend who didn’t like me at all. Well, we went to see a movie, made out, and making out led to… Lily.” Elliot stopped at a red light as he took in your words. “Sounds a hell of a lot better than mine. I met Kathy at a beach party, we got drunk, got married and nine months later, Maureen happened.” He made a left turn to the exit that would lead to Staten Island. 

“Everything seemed to work out for you in the end. You guys are still married and have more kids so you must’ve done something right in all these years.” He only laughed and turned on his left turn signal. “Our marriage is definitely not perfect, we were almost divorced. She took the kids, moved in with her mother.” “So what made you get back together?” Elliot smiled and slowed down at a stop sign. “Eli happened. We were sleeping together during the separation and Kathy being pregnant pretty much stopped the divorce proceedings. History basically repeated itself.”

You really hoped none of that happens to you; [your husband’s name] is such a big part of your life, you’d grown up together, conquered parenthood together. The both of you spent your teenage years and a good chunk of your twenties pretending that you were simply co-parenting, so it was inconceivable to even think of divorcing. “Any advice?” The both of you were now in Staten Island, not too far from the witness’s home. “The job we do…it really takes a toll on you, and sometimes that carries over into your personal life, makes you a little paranoid. Sometimes it even makes you not want to drop your kid off at school. And then, when you get home at night, you can’t exactly talk to your spouse about how your day went, so you don’t talk about it all because you don’t want to give them nightmares. You close yourself off from your family, and that’s what caused my separation. So what I’m saying is, don’t make this job your entire life. Don’t close yourself off to your family, and know when it’s time to walk away.”

You wondered if this is what happened with his last partner, that she knew when it was time to leave, but you didn’t want to upset him by saying it out loud. Elliot pulled up to a house and stopped on the curb, turned the car off and he looked at you, really looked at you. “I mean it, don’t let the job consume you. When things get too heavy and the Captain tells you to go home, don’t fight him on it.” You nodded and the two of you got out of the car. “Good to know.”

[wraenata]

Ok you know what else bothered me? Even if this battleshell he materialized out of his ninpo doesn't have jetpacks

Donnie still has his ninpo when he lands on Staten Island.

And during the fight he uses his ninpo to make ninpo rockets and rocket them towards the krang.

Why did he not just ninpo rocket them all back up to Leo???

Plot holes I know. Just like Leo's katanas being drawn sometimes and not others (though I don't blame the artists for that).

Also back at the lair after Leo drops the key he makes a show of pulling off at least one leg wrapping. When Raph punches him out of the subway car he has them on again. That did bug me a little.

But it's such an awesome movie so I forgive them

Hey Doonnniieeee

WHEN WERE YOU GONNA TELL US THAT YOU CAN JUST MANIFEST PERMANENT SOLID OBJECTS FROM THIN AIR?!?!?!??!?!?!

WFT

He is outright the most powerful of them all with this! HE CAN MAKE REAL ITEMS HWITH HIS MIND!!!!?

FUCK!

[plaidbooks]

Making Gingerbread House with the Carisi Clan. Also if you're interested you can add in a fake dating trope where Carisi asks y/n to come coz his whole family is bugging him. P.S: Can't wait for all the amazing stuff you will come up with for this bingo challenge. 😍😍 #the christmas bingo you posted. I forgot the name. Sorry

Building Blocks

A/N: This prompt is so cute! And of course, I had to take that idea of a fake dating trope! All the Italian translations are done by google, so I hope they're sufficient--the translations are in the beginning. This covers the Xmas Baking square in @storiesofsvu holiday bingo. I hope you enjoy!

PS: this takes place around the end of s17, back when Sonny was a tad overdramatic 🤣

Tags: none outside of food mentions

Words: 2064

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @beardsanddetectives @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

Italian translations:

Perchè no = why not

Non dirmi che siete solo amici, voglio dei nipotini = don't tell me you're only friends, I want grandkids

Un giorno, prometti = one day, promise

**********************

“Please, please, please come over for the weekend with me! All my sisters are going to have a plus one and my parents keep askin’ me when I’m gonna bring a woman home with me. Please!” Sonny begged. He was on his knees on the carpeted floor of your living room, hands clasped together like a prayer.

“Sonny…” you started, but you stopped when he bent forward, head on the ground.

“I’ll do anythin’ ya want! I’m already grovelin’ at your feet, doll! Please!”

You leaned down, touching his shoulder gently. “What I was going to say was that you don’t have to beg me, Sonny. I don’t mind going to your parent’s place for a weekend.”

He popped up to his knees, giving you a smile of disbelief. “Really? You’ll come?”

“Of course; we’re friends, aren’t we?”

His grin solidified, taking up his whole face. “Best friends,” he agreed. “I owe ya.”

**************

When Sonny pulled up in front of his parent’s house on Staten Island, you quirked an eyebrow. There was only one car in the driveway, but otherwise, the street was deserted.

“Are we here early?” you asked. When Sonny gave you a confused look, you continued, “I don’t see any cars…unless your sisters took public transit.”

“Nah, they’ll be here tomorrow. I always come a day early ta help ma with the baking,” he explained. You found that incredibly endearing, and you smiled softly as he guided you up to the front door.

He knocked and you waited with bated breath before the door opened, revealing an older woman with a smile brighter than the sun—you finally understood where Sonny got his smile from.

“Sonny,” she muttered affectionately before holding her arms open. He wrapped her in a tight hug, and even though she only reached his chest, she leaned fully into the embrace.

“Hey ma,” he whispered back, ducking his head to kiss her cheek. He finally let her go and introduced you. Mama Carisi greeted you the same, pulling you in for a tight hug and kissing your cheek.

It was easy to feel at home in the Carisi household; it was warm and full of love. You shook hands with Dominick Sr., who towered over even Sonny. And then you followed Mama Carisi into the expansive kitchen, Sonny on your heels. He rolled up his sleeves and went to wash his hands, and you followed suit.

“I thought you said we were going to be making gingerbread houses, Sonny,” you asked, voice hushed so his mom wouldn’t hear.

He turned the water off and grabbed a towel to dry both your hands. With a grin, he said, “we are. Tomorrow. Gotta make the gingerbread, first, doll.”

You quickly learned that the gingerbread house kits that most stores sold were seen as blasphemy by the Carisi’s; it was fresh or nothing. There were two separate ovens—a relic from raising such a big family—and Mama Carisi started to preheat them both.

You weren’t quite sure what you were supposed to be doing, so you just followed the instructions given to you. Mama Carisi made the dough—by hand, mixers were not allowed, and even with her older body, her forearms proved years of making food by hand—and Sonny rolled out the dough, cutting shapes and designs into it. Your job was to take the finished dough from Mama Carisi and pass it to Sonny, then take the cookies he’d finished and put them in the ovens. You set the two timers and took the cookies out when they chimed, letting them cool for a bit before taking them off the sheets and refilling them with new dough. It was a well-oiled machine, and once you found the rhythm, you found that it was so much fun.

“So, how long have you two been together?” Mama Carisi asked. She had planned this: in the kitchen, neither of you could escape her questioning. You looked to Sonny, wondering if you should correct her, tell her you’re not dating, or if he would just play along.

“Um, we met a few years ago while in line at Starbucks,” Sonny explained. Not a lie; you had met when the barista called out an order and you both reached for it. You both argued over who should take it, and you had been friends since.

Mama Carisi clicked her tongue in disapproval. “And you didn’t bring her over earlier, Sonny? Perchè no?” You didn’t understand Italian, so you just continued kneading dough, your face burning.

“Ah, we haven’t been dating for years, ma! We’re only—”

“Non dirmi che siete solo amici, voglio dei nipotini, Dominick.”

“Ma! Un giorno, prometti! Now please, don’t, not now!” he said.

She gave him a look, and when her eyes connected to yours, you swallowed and paid super attention to the cookies you were transferring to the cooling rack.

**************

That night, you slept in Bella’s old room after Mama Carisi not-so-subtly told you both to sleep separated. Your face was on fire in embarrassment while you sat on the bed. There was a knock on your door, and you called out, “uh, come in?”

Sonny quickly opened the door, squeezed in, and closed it again. “Hey, sorry about my ma—she’s just...she really wants me to settle down, ya know?” He was shifting back and forth on his feet, wringing his hands.

“Um...it’s fine. I don’t know what she was saying, anyways,” you explained, smiling sheepishly.

He looked down at his feet, refusing to make eye contact. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. But, um....”

“What is it, Sonny? You know you can tell me.”

He finally looked up at you, and you could see his nerves all over his face. “Is it...I mean, would it be okay if we.... Tomorrow, could you just...maybe pretend we’re dating? To appease her?”

“I—I—” you sputtered. Now you were really curious what it was she was saying in the kitchen. But Sonny looked so desperate, and you found yourself saying, “yeah, sure. Won’t be a problem.”

“Really? You mean it?” he asked, a smile pulling across his face. “Ah, you’re the best! Thank you so much—I’ll never forget this!”

After a few more thank you’s, he left your room and you collapsed onto your back. Was it too late to tell him that you didn’t want to fake date him? That you wanted to date him, for real?

*****************

Breakfast was delicious, but tense. You and Sonny sat across from each other and you caught him giving you long, linger looks, looks that made your face heat. You would give him a small smile, eyes connecting, before looking away. But you couldn’t tell if that was part of the façade or not. What made it more awkward was when you’d catch Mama Carisi watching you both.

The chaos started before Dominick Sr. finished washing the last dish. Teresa and her daughter Mia showed up first, followed closely by a very pregnant Bella and her new husband, Tommy. Gina and the guy Sonny referred to as “the boyfriend of the week” arrived about 20 minutes later.

You had dutifully been next to Sonny as he greeted his sisters, niece, and brother-in-law warmly, and you tried not to look embarrassed when he introduced you as his girlfriend. But the title made you smile sincerely—you only wished it wasn’t fake. Which is why you pretended it wasn’t.

Sonny, Dominick Sr., and Tommy started moving the tables together, and you, Bella, Teresa, and Mia started bringing out the cookies. Gina, her boyfriend, and Mama Carisi began arranging the cookies by what they were: the walls and roofs together, doors and windows together, people together, etc.

The girls had brought over the icing and decorations, and those got laid out, too. Once everything was out, you were unsure where to even start. So, you waited. Mia, being the youngest Carisi (not in name, but it still counted), picked her starting piece, a wall, first. And then, it was simultaneously a free-for-all, and a collaboration.

“Gina, can ya pass two roof pieces, please?”

“Hey Tommy, can you hand me that tube of red icing?”

“Mr. Carisi, could you please pass me that bag of gumdrops?”

Everyone worked on their own house, but would help each other if asked. At one point, you held Sonny’s walls up as he placed his roof on top. And everyone was talking, laughing, telling stories that happened between now and the last time they were all together.

“This gingerbread smells so good,” you commented to Sonny. It was true that the smell was overwhelming while it baked yesterday, but now it was more muted, and smelled delicious. Your mouth was watering as you build your ramshackled house—it wasn’t about who made a better looking house. It was about the tradition.

“Here,” Sonny said. He broke a leg off the gingerbread man he was currently decorating and held the leg up to your mouth. “A warning, though—once ya try my ma’s gingerbread, there’s no goin’ back ta the store bought crap.”

You smiled and bit into the leg he offered. At first, you thought he had been over exaggerating, but he wasn’t; you could never go back. “Please tell me you know the recipe—”

“I do; I’ll teach it to ya,” he replied. You gave him a smile, and he noticed a bit of frosting on your lip. Without too much thought, he leaned in and kissed you, licking the frosting from your skin. You melted into that kiss, but too soon he was pulling away from you. The look on his face though...if you didn’t know better, you’d think that kiss was intentional and not a ploy to trick his family.

****************

The gingerbread houses lasted long enough for pictures, their makers standing proudly next to them, before they were devoured. By the end of it, everyone was waddling around like Bella, happy and full.

Everyone helped with cleaning up, Dominick Sr. taking his place at the sink, washing the dishes as they came in. You and Sonny had collected garbage into bags and were carrying them outside, and you figured there was no better time to talk than now.

“Hey, Sonny?” you asked as he lifted the garbage can lid.

“What’s up, doll?”

You placed the bag in the can, then stood there awkwardly next to him. You could feel his eyes on you, so you just let it out, “you know how you said you’d do anything if I came this weekend?”

“Uh, yeah?” he replied sheepishly, curious about where you were going with that.

“Well, um...I’d like to cash that in now.” You finally looked up at him to find his blue eyes scanning your face. “May I have a kiss?”

His cheeks turned a bright pink and his eyes widened. “Oh! Uh, I’m sorry about that kiss earlier—we, uh, we don’t haveta pretend out here—”

“I meant a real kiss,” you blurted before a hand flew up to your mouth. “I’m sorry, I mean...if you didn’t want to, then that’s okay, too.” I’m so fucking stupid, you thought, turning back towards the house.

But you didn’t get too far before a hand enclosed around your wrist, pulling you backwards. You turned and Sonny was kissing you, his lips crashing to yours in a desperate kiss. You had a moment to be shocked before you closed your eyes, kissing him back with passion. His hand came up to cup your cheek, tilting you to give him more access to your mouth.

“Was that real enough for ya, doll?” he muttered against your lips, a small smile on his face.

You let out a soft chuckle before kissing him again. It was only your first “real” kiss with him, but you already knew that you didn’t want to stop. His lips were so soft against yours, his hands gentle has they held you to him.

“Would you two lovebirds hurry the hell up?” a voice called.

Sonny grinned against your lips before pulling away. “Shuddup, Gina, we’re comin’!” he yelled back. Then he reached down and laced his fingers with yours, leading you back into his family’s home, and into his life as a real girlfriend.

[iamamisfittoy]

25th Hour (2002) dir. Spike Lee

"Yeah, fuck you too. Fuck me? Fuck you and this whole city and everyone in it. Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back. Fuck the squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car - get a fucking job! Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training. SLOW THE FUCK DOWN! Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and pumped-up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks on my Channel 35. Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no speaky English? Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in cafés, sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheelin' and dealin' and schemin'. Go back where you fucking came from! Fuck the black-hatted Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid diamonds! Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gekko wannabe mother fuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for FUCKING LIFE! You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit? Give me a fucking break! Tyco! Imclome! Adelphia! Worldcom! Fuck the Puerto Ricans. Twenty to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst fuckin' parade in the city. And don't even get me started on the Dom-in-i-cans, 'cause they make the Puerto Ricans look good. Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, their St. Anthony medallions, swinging their Jason Giambi Louisville Slugger baseball bats, trying to audition for "The Sopranos." Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Hermès scarves and their fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You're not fooling anybody, sweetheart! Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they don't want to play defense, they take five steps on every lay-up to the hoop. And then they want to turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty seven years ago. Move the fuck on! Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus-violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust! Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. And while you're at it, fuck J.C.! He got off easy! A day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity! Try seven years in fuckin' Otisville, J.! Fuck Osama Bin Laden, al-Qaeda, and backward-ass cave-dwelling fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-two whores roasting in a jet-fuel fire in hell. You towel-headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal Irish ass! Fuck Jacob Elinsky. Whining malcontent. Fuck Francis Xavier Slaughtery my best friend, judging me while he stares at my girlfriend's ass. Fuck Naturelle Riviera, I gave her my trust and she stabbed me in the back, sold me up the river, fucking bitch. Fuck my father with his endless grief, standing behind that bar sipping on club sodas, selling whisky to firemen, and cheering the Bronx Bombers. Fuck this whole city and everyone in it. From the row-houses of Astoria to the penthouses on Park Avenue, from the projects in the Bronx to the lofts in Soho. From the tenements in Alphabet City to the brownstones in Park Slope to the split-levels in Staten Island. Let an earthquake crumble it, let the fires rage, let it burn to fucking ash and then let the waters rise and submerge this whole rat-infested place."

[Pause]

 "No. No, fuck you, Montgomery Brogan. You had it all, and you threw it away, you dumb fuck!"

[cocosstories]

Pete Davidson One Shot

This is kinda dumb but I was in a super scary car accident and broke my foot and I was wondering if you could do a pete x reader of something like that? Super fluffy and a lot of comfort cause I need it

Pete got the call at 9:30pm while he was waiting for you to come home from work.

"Mr. Davidson? I am a nurse at the Staten Island University Hospital and your wife, Y/N was just brought in."

Panic takes over as the nurse speaks.

"What happened? Is she ok?"

He asks, trying not to fully freak out until he has to.

"She was in a car accident. She has a broken foot and some minor abrasions but so far she's looking pretty good."

After getting all of the information, Pete hangs up the phone and runs upstairs.

"Mom! Casey!"

Amy peaks out from the kitchen and sees the worry on her sons face.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"Y/N was in a car accident. She's in the hospital!"

Casey comes down as he explains the situation to their mom.

"Well come on then! We need to get to the hospital!"

She says and grabs Pete's arm to drag him out of the car.

Ever since you and Pete had started dating, you and Casey had become super close. She was like the sister you always wanted and you were the same for her.

They all go out to the car and drive the short distance to the hospital.

"Hi, Im looking for my wife, Y/N Davidson. She was brought here after a car accident."

The nurse looks up the information and gives them your room number.

"Babe! Shit. Are you ok?"

Pete asks as they fond your room and walk in.

"Yeah, I broke my foot pretty bad though."

He makes his way over to your bed and carefully wraps his arms around you.

"What happened?"

He asks, wanting the details of the accident.

"Some idiot ran a red light and t boned the passenger side. It was so scary. The doctor says I'm lucky only my foot was broken"

Just then the doctor comes in.

"Well, we got all of your scans and bloodwork back and I think I can clear you to go home. We are going to let the swelling go down in your foot just a bit but in a few days we will take the soft cast off and put a hard one on which will stay for 6 to 8 weeks."

After the doctor goes over everything including home care and follow up visits, Pete, Amy and Casey take you home and get you settled in bed.

"If you need anything, just text us ok? We will come right down."

Amy says before her and Casey head back upstairs.

Pete climbs on the bed and lays next to you.

"Mom said she would pick up your prescriptions and grab some food on the way back. But what can I do for you?"

He takes your hand, caressing the back of it with his thumb.

"Just be here with me. All I want is you. And maybe some water."

You throw in the joke at the end to try and lighten his mood a bit. You could tell he was on edge from the whole thing and wanted him to see that even though you were hurt and the whole ordeal was terrifying, everything was going to be ok.

Pete jumps out of bed and runs to grab your water bottle, filling it up and brings it back to you.

"I didn't even think that you were thirsty. I'm so sorry babe."

"Pete, I was joking. It's ok."

You say as he climbs back into bed.

"No, not for the water. For all of this. I'm sorry about the accident and that you got hurt. I'm just so grateful that you weren't hurt any worse than you were."

He takes your hand in his, interlocking your fingers.

"It was just a freak thing that happened. Another idiot in a hurry and not paying attention. And like you said, it could have been a lot worse."

He nods, bringing the back of your hand up to his lips and kissing it gently.

"Well, I have a little more time before the show comes back so I don't want you to worry about anything. I will be here the whole time."

You smile, thankful to have such an amazing husband and wonder to yourself what in the world you did to deserve him.

[hb-writes]

I feel bad for getting Charlie content, so here a picture that I took some years ago of dandelions:

Ooooh I love your dandelions. Here's some Charlie & Harvey:

Harvey’s hand wrapped around Charlie’s elbow and her tugged her back before her right foot could touch down on the pavement. “You’re not taking the—” 

“Fine, fine. No trains.” Charlie struggled against her brother’s grip. “I’ll just walk home, then. I’d rather walk all the way to Whitehall and take the ferry to Staten Island and back than ride in a goddamn car with you two assho—” 

[phykios]

honesty and promise me part 6 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

Ah, the age old question: what to get for the guy who has everything and also when you’re trying make up for the fact that you actually missed his birthday entirely while spending as little money as possible?

“Where the hell are you taking me?” Percy asks as they wait their turn to disembark. “I haven’t been to Staten Island in ages.”

Annabeth has never been at all. She knows there’s a handful of Greek revival buildings in the Historic District, but she’s never had a car to get there, or the stomach to get on the ferry. Percy had practically climbed onto the bow, his own personal reenactment of Titanic, arms thrown out to the wind, while Annabeth attempted to keep her breakfast down.

Having spectacularly flamed out last week in Philadelphia, she can’t let Percy’s birthday go without some sort of commemoration. The Staten Island Ferry is just part one. “All in due time,” she says, checking her phone for directions. They still have a bus they need to board, and Annabeth is getting sweaty in her leather jacket. Thank God Percy volunteered to carry the backpack with all their gear; otherwise, when this jacket comes off, it’s going to smell worse than his tights at the end of a long day.

Like a magnet, his gaze is glued to the strips of the bay he can spot through the bus windows, his head resting on his chin, a soft, serene smile lifting his lips. All the tightness, all the stress he’s held in his shoulders the last few times she’s seen him, it melts away at the sharp, salty tang of rust and sea air which suffuses every corner. She doesn’t even mind that he isn’t looking at her. 

Hand in hand, finally, they get off the bus, and walk to the overlook. Slinging the backpack off his shoulder, he sets it down at his feet, eyes fixed on the strip of shoreline which can be seen, even all the way over here. “What is that?” he breathes, shielding his eyes against the glint of the sun on the water.

“That,” says Annabeth, “is the Staten Island ship graveyard.”

Still stewing in her guilt over how she missed his birthday--despite the fact that he didn’t even tell her--Annabeth decided to swallow her pride and ask for help. It took an inordinate number of coffee orders and one instance of her actually getting down on her knees and begging, pleading to their long friendship together and swearing that Annabeth would never use this information for evil, but she had finally wheedled the secret out of Thalia: Percy’s greatest love, after the ballet, was sailing. Ship construction, naval battles, maritime history, they were, according to Thalia, the only things which could entice Percy to actually set down the tights and “get some frickin’ sunshine for once in his life.” Annabeth hadn’t believed her, until Thalia had dug up an old photo which had never been posted to his socials--and Annabeth had certainly scoured them for long enough, she would have recognized it had she seen it before--of Percy, on a glittering, jewel-like sea, a rope wrapped around his fist as he leaned over the side of a sailboat, eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide in a graceless, unrestrained joy. 

“Back in the eighties, there used to be over four hundred ships down there,” Annabeth says, coming up beside him. “A lot of it’s been scrapped or sold, but there are still maybe a hundred or so boats, including the USS PC-1264, one of the--”

“One of the two predominantly African American crewed Navy ships from World War II,” he interrupts, eyes light. “No way!”

“Yes way,” Annabeth grins, unzipping her jacket. The midday sun beats down on them, the air sticky and heavy, and she needs this thing off, pronto. “And, there’s a ship that was supposedly the command post for the General Slocum disaster.” Not that she really knows what that is.

He whirls around. “The Abram S. Hewitt is there? Holy sh--”

His jaw drops. His eyes bug out. 

Part two of his present was the ship graveyard. Part three is the outfit.

Annabeth, one hand on her hip, slings her jacket over her shoulder with the other, the leather hot against her bare skin. She has chosen to forgo a shirt entirely, wearing nothing but her nicest pair of black jeans with the thick suspenders and a shiny, red bra. And yes, she had Thalia touch up her hair, five inches of curls lopped off on one side, undercut sharp and severe. 

“I thought we could have a picnic here,” she says, a smile curling her lips without her permission. “Then, if you want, we could do some light trespassing? See the ships up close?”

Percy swallows. He breathes in through his nose, shuddering. “Sure,” he whispers, hoarse. “Sounds good.”

Dropping to the ground like a rock, studiously not checking her out, Percy unpacks their picnic, laying out the blanket, something blue, old, but soft Annabeth had knitted in a fit of pre-finals’ anxiety in college. Annabeth had hinted the night before that he should make them some food, as no one could make a grilled cheese like Percy, and she sure as shit wasn’t going to buy them some prepackaged, tasteless garbage. 

Percy’s sandwiches, just like the man himself, are stacked: thick, sourdough slices (which she suspects he made himself), bacon, turkey, apple, tomato, lettuce, avocado, mayo for her but none for him. She’d always been under the impression that dancers needed to watch what they ate, endlessly in pursuit of some unattainable ideal of beauty. Nope. Percy eats everything and anything he can get his hands on, high carb and high protein and high everything else. It makes sense, she guesses, for someone who basically has to bench their own body weight daily. Every inch of him is tailored for power and velocity, to propel him out of the grasp of gravity--rabbit food just isn’t going to cut it here. 

Munching down, he maneuvers himself into a number of splits and stretches, unable to give up his routine for a single day. “When I was probably thirteen or fourteen,” he says, halfway through a tirade of reminiscence, “my dad took me and Triton and Kym to Cyprus, for some family bonding time.” He rolls his eyes. “You can probably imagine how well that went. Most of that trip was… well, Cyprus was definitely the best part. We went to Kyrenia Castle, which has this amazing museum that holds one of the oldest known ships in the world. Like, this thing was operational during the lifetime of Alexander the Great, and it sank about a mile away from the harbor.” He takes a heroic bite, chewing with his lips firmly shut.

“Cool.”

He swallows. “Very cool. I love really old ships, but you can imagine how few of those are still left, and not just because we haven’t found them.”

Annabeth feels her neck heating up, despite the shade they sit in. “Well, I hope these ones are old enough for you.”

“Oh, these are incredible--don’t get me wrong! I had no idea there was anything like this so close to home. Who needs Cyprus when you have Staten Island?” He grins, placing his sandwich down, throwing his arms in a stretch.

“I know it isn’t Tokyo or Moscow or anything…” she trails off, self-conscious even as she doesn’t actually ask the question that’s on her mind. 

Shamefully, she has found that she still thinks about what Will had said at his apartment over a month ago at this point: Percy Jackson, boy toy of the rich and famous. But if she actually asks, it will make her look like some totally jealous girlfriend or something, like she honestly cares about Percy’s past sexual conquests.

She doesn’t care. She doesn’t. 

He’s just led a really interesting life, and she wishes she could relate. That’s all. 

“It’s not,” he agrees, bending his back with an audible pop. “It’s better.” 

“Really? A little ship graveyard is better than the sites of Tokyo?”

“I didn’t see any sites in Tokyo,” he said. “Mostly just Mittie’s hotel room.”

“Mittie?”

Percy looks at his sandwich, suddenly very interested in the crust. 

“She’s someone important, then?” 

Silence. 

Annabeth laughs to break the tension. “Okay, I'll bite--who’s Mittie? Another model?” 

Taking a small bite of sandwich, he chews, methodical and deliberate. He swallows, clearing his throat. “Margherita Savoy.”

The name doesn’t ring a bell. “Who?”

“Princess Margherita Elisabetta of Sardinia.” 

Her mouth drops open a little. “A princess?”

Percy shrugs. “Technically. The throne of Sardinia doesn’t exist anymore, obviously, but she’s big into the money and the titles and stuff.”

A princess. A fucking princess. “But she lets you call her Mittie.”

He looks a little constipated. “She didn’t… until she took me to Tokyo.” 

“Oh,” she says. Because what else is there to say? She’s certainly no princess. 

“She was nice,” Percy says, softly. “You know, eventually. Once we got to know each other.”

Her phone is hot in her pocket, like it’s preemptively searching Google for pictures of Margherita Elisabetta of Sardinia, downloading them all so Annabeth can scribble all over her face like a bad high school movie. “A pretender?” She scoffs, exaggeratedly, her fists tight against the grass. “Talk to me when you get a real princess.” 

His ears go red. “Um…” 

No way. “No fucking way.”

“Look, Eugenie was just kinda pissed when Triton broke up with her, and so she just thought that we’d have some fun.” 

“Oh my god.” She says, looking at him in something like horror. And telling herself at least it wasn’t her distant cousin Madeleine. 

“It was only for like a week or two,” Percy protests. “We went to a club in Berlin she knew Triton liked to go to so he would see us and get annoyed.” 

“A princess dated you because she was pissed at your brother?”

“Only twice,” he says, casual, like any of this is normal and not absolutely insane. “Eleonore is one of Kym’s friends. And she’s technically, like, an archduchess, not a princess. But I don’t know. A couple of his other girlfriends wanted to get back at him, and I was in Europe and available, so we just…” He trails off. She can hear the ellipsis, hanging hot and heavy over them, each dot dropping like a stone. What is this, fucking Mamma Mia? 

“When was the last time this happened?” she asks, not really wanting to hear the answer.

He rubs a hand over his mouth, gaze unfocused as he thinks. “Um… not since the week after Frank left, I think. Mittie wanted to go to Bora Bora but she didn’t want to go alone, you know?” 

“No, I meant,” she pushes through as her stomach flutters, tight and uncomfortable, “girls using you to get back at your brother.” 

His face falls, just a bit. “Oh. Last year, I guess.”

“Who was she?” And where is she so Annabeth can punt her off a building?

“Calypso Atlas.” He sighs, wistful, with more reverence than he had given any of the princesses, and Annabeth’s stomach flops, different from the flutter. Painful this time. “She actually liked me.” 

“Everyone likes you,” she says, faintly. Maybe wearing the leather jacket is giving her heatstroke.

“You know, they really don’t. Not how it counts, anyway.” He picks at a blade of grass, rubbing it between his fingers. “Most of the girls who wanted to use me to get back at Triton only did it because they knew how much he liked to bitch about me--the ‘half-breed bastard.’” He rolls his eyes, huffs a laugh. “And even Kym’s friends didn’t actually like me. Like, yeah, they’d fly me all over with them, but they didn’t want to be seen with me. Mittie and I were on and off for years, and she gets photographed constantly. I’m not in any of them.”

Annabeth thinks she might actually be sick. 

But he doesn’t stop. “It wasn’t so bad when they went around saying that I was a dancer with the Paris Opera, because I was, and I was proud of it. But it wasn’t… I don’t know. It wasn’t like with Frank, whose family does have a ton of money, but who only ever dated me because he liked me.” He picks another blade of grass, tearing it between his fingers. “Calypso, though. She was different.” And he smiles, a little.

“How?”

That smile grows wider. “She just called me one day, out of the blue, and very publicly asked me to be her date to Milan Fashion Week after she and Triton broke up and he immediately turned around and got engaged. She was super up front about it, didn’t try to sleep with me or anything, even though I know she was friends with some people and probably heard about my various talents.” 

She knows exactly which talents he means. He winks at Annabeth, ironic and self-conscious, and she forces out a little laugh, as though the idea of him going down on someone else is charming. 

“But then we actually had a good time together, and a few weeks later, she called me up again, and again, and again, until eventually she introduced me to her father--which was a hell of an experience, let me tell you. The Atlas family puts the Olympianides family to shame as far as dysfunction goes. But it was nice, in its own way; if I’d ever asked Mittie to introduce me to her dad, she’d have laughed in my face.” 

“Sounds like you were pretty serious,” Annabeth manages.

“That was the problem.” He looks away, towards the sea. Always towards the sea. “She wanted to leave Paris, travel the world. And she wanted me to go with her.” 

“To leave the Paris Opera?”

“To leave ballet entirely. I just…” He holds the silence for a moment, lost in the fog of reminiscence, the mist of possible futures long since dissipated. Sighing, he shakes his head. “I couldn’t do it. So, in March, she went to Dubai, and I started making calls back to New York.”

“You broke up with her this year?”

“She broke up with me,” he clarifies, turning back to her. “It was all very romantic. I always left my comp at the box office for her. She didn’t come to my show, but she showed up at the stage door the day before she was set to leave, telling me that she had an extra ticket with my name on it. I turned her down.” And then he looks her in the eye as he says, “I don’t regret it at all.” 

She swallows, her face flushing, tongue numb as she searches desperately for something to say to that. “Atlas, you said her family was? It sounds familiar.” 

“Oh, you’re probably thinking of Zoe Atlas,” Percy says, easing off for the moment. “You probably know about her because she and Thalia were archenemies in boarding school. Or maybe girlfriends? I have yet to get a straight answer.” Annabeth’s eyes nearly bug out of her head. Thalia, in boarding school? What? “But I like Zoe. She’s an activist, and absolutely hates her father. Like I said, there’s a lot of dysfunction. And she came to my first show way back when, and she wasn’t even weird when I dated her sister when we ran into each other in Paris. So that was nice.” 

“She went to your first show?” What in God’s name is up with these one-percenter families? It’s like they all overlap in one big incestuous slurry. And as the daughter of the Chases and the Pallases, she tries not to think where she might fit into that. 

“Thalia brought her. Her first not-date. It was Thalia’s first ballet ever, too. It… it meant a lot.”

“What show was it?”

He smiles, wistful. “The Nutcracker. I was one of the kids at Clara’s party. Most scared I’ve ever been. When I got out backstage after intermission, Thalia was waiting for me with my mom. She punched my shoulder, called me ‘Kelp Head,’ and told me I did great. Then I hugged her,” he says, snickering. “She punched me again.”

Annabeth laughs, huffing through her nose. “Good to see some things never change.”

“That’s our Thalia for you--looking out for everyone, even when it kills her inside.” He glances at her pointedly.

It’s her turn to share. 

Annabeth’s mouth is dry, like sandpaper.

She grabs her backpack, pulling out a sketchbook and a pencil. Beside her, Percy sighs, deflating a little.

Annabeth flips open a new page, and starts drawing. 

Each sketch delivers a challenge: bringing order to the whole through design, composition, tension, balance, light and harmony. Sometimes, buildings spring to life on the page, fully formed. Sometimes the page stays blank, an empty pencil.

Pencil to paper. Letting whatever wants to come out, come out. “My mom invited me to lunch one day,” she says. Her eyes follow the line of her pencil, ninety degree angles and symmetrical shapes. “I had moved to New York like six months before. Single girl, in the big city, to follow her dreams.” She’d gone to boarding school in New York before that, but it wasn’t the same as picking out her apartment and taking the train to the Manhattan skyscraper her office was held in. Sometimes she’d walk down the street, feeling like she was smack dab in the middle of Sex and the City, which she and Piper use to watch in secret, huddled under the covers in the dorms at Miss Minerva’s. “Unfortunately, my mom didn’t love my dreams.”

“She didn’t approve of anarchist architecture?”

Annabeth’s laugh is hollow. “She thought I should have been charting some new path in business for a woman. But not in a feminist way. In, like, a capitalist way. But architecture was not really negotiable for me. And once that became clear, she had her own expectations about that, too.” 

Annabeth has always been a prideful know-it-all. If all her mother had wanted from her was ambition, they probably could have made it work. Annabeth wanted to reshape the skyline, she wanted her name on buildings that would last and impress. 

But even Annabeth couldn’t do that in six months. 

“She wanted the best schools, the best companies, the best projects.” She sighs. “I was lucky to find a job in New York that wasn’t just carrying coffee.” She had gotten a bigger offer from a more well-known firm where she had interned one summer, but it had been for an assistantship, heavy on the assistant. Her eventual Junior Architect label hadn’t been great, but it had been something, being a rising star at a smaller firm. It seemed like a good fit. “I did not make my mother proud. I… she lived in New York, and I lived with my dad all over.” 

Percy frowns. “Your mom didn’t have custody of you?”

“My mom didn’t want custody of me,” she laughs, bitter. God, it feels weird to tell someone else this. Piper and Leo and Luke knew, obviously, but they had witnessed it all firsthand. Telling someone else, out of the blue… Well, Percy had divulged his tragic backstory without complaint. It’s only fair that she does as well. “I mean, my dad didn’t either. But when it became clear my mom wasn’t an option, well, there we were. He stepped up as best he could. That wasn’t always a lot, but when compared to my mother, he seems like a perfectly involved parent.” 

“Are you trying to make my parental situation seem more reasonable?” 

“Is it working?”

“If you ever meet my dad, we can compare notes.” He shudders at the thought, playfully. “So, what happened with your mom?”

“She made her displeasure known.” Annabeth sighs again, shading a corner. “I mean, she’s always made her displeasure known. I wasn’t getting good enough grades, I wasn’t in the right activities, I wasn’t going to get into the right school, yadda yadda yadda. But for a long time… I don’t know, it at least seemed like she was worried about me.” She thinks of the Eta party, of the man in the brown suit, tutting about Athena Pallas’s druggie daughter, and scowls. “My mother has always had an all or nothing outlook. If I wasn’t the best, I might as well be nothing. But the thing was, this time I thought I was making real progress. And when she invited me to lunch after six months in the same city, I thought she would see that.” 

She had not. Because to Athena Pallas, having a daughter who was an architect instead of an executive Vice-President on her way to CEO, having a daughter at a small but growing architecture firm instead of the best one in the country, was like having a daughter who was drunk in a gutter somewhere. 

And Annabeth had realized as much that lunch. 

All her work was never going to earn her mother’s love.

And suddenly, she wasn’t sure what work had been her’s and what had been her mother’s ambitions. 

She’d started crying. In the cafe and right now, on Staten Island, with Percy. “I’m sorry,” she sniffs, wiping her nose on her arm. “Wow, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He reaches over and wraps an arm around her, gently, rubbing her shoulder, and she more or less crumples into his side. “It’s fine. Take your time.”

Her arm, still free, keeps moving. The drawing takes a shape that she can’t quite name yet. A tree, maybe, in a box. A window to another world, possibly. She spills tears on the paper.

“She disowned me.” Her thin line trembles, before righting itself. “I ran out of there. I stumbled into the first tattoo parlor that didn’t smell like piss, and got my owl done.” She brandishes her left arm, the grey shape blurry and faded against her elbow. She had had a stuffed owl as a little girl, her protector against the spiders in the closet. “I cut off my hair, got my eyebrow pierced, found a club, and just… had a rough couple of days. Got really really drunk that night.” Like, too drunk. Crying on the floor of a filthy bathroom drunk. “Thalia found me under the bathroom sink, took me back to her place, helped me kick the hangover the next day, and that was that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Annabeth says. And most of the time, she isn’t. She wipes her eyes, smudged makeup getting smudger.

“Your mom sounds like she sucks.”

“She does.”

“What about your dad?”

She sniffs. “What about him?”

“You just haven’t really mentioned him. What’s he like?”

Shrugging, she wipes a tear from her cheek. “He’s a history professor.”

“And?”

“That’s about it.”

“I mean, do you like him?”

She shrugs again. “Sure.” There was a lot to like about Frederick Chase. “I haven’t really spoken to him in a while.”

Mouth in a sympathetic twist, he brushes the curls from her eyes, a gesture so sweet it makes her heart pound. “You should call him,” he says. “I’m sure he misses you.”

Her phone burns in her pocket, heavy with the weight of unread texts. “Maybe.”

“Do you want to change the subject?” he asks.

“Please,” she blurts out, digging the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. “God, please. Let’s go back to your cute backstory. Tell me more about your first ballet. I want to hear all about the time you were in the Nutcracker.”

Percy fishes out a napkin from somewhere, handing it to her. Grateful, she blows her nose into it, wet and disgusting. “I hate to tell you this,” he says, “But I have been in the Nutcracker, like, fifteen times.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he nods, “It's the big moneymaker. Have you ever seen it?”

“It's a holiday classic,” she scoffs, a little wetly. “Of course I’ve seen it.”

He snorts. “Like, for real, or the recorded one they play on Netflix with Macaulay Culkin?” 

“I've seen it live! My dad lived in San Francisco when I was in high school. They have a fancy ballet there.” She’d seen it as a little kid in NYC, she thought, too. Maybe when her parents were still married, or her mother was still willing to take her for Christmas. 

“Would you be willing to see it again?”

“Like, for real,” she parrots back at him, “or the recorded one they play on Netflix?”

“Ha ha. I mean for real.”

“I mean… maybe if they switched things up a bit.” 

“It's a classic!” He protests. “I mean, it isn’t like we do the Balanchine everywhere, every time. But… it's a classic.” 

“I’m sure the dancing is fine.” Annabeth says. She remembers going with Luke in Boston and thinking it was nice, but also hoping Luke would kiss her at the end of the night, so she hadn’t really paid attention. “But they get to design a land of magic and sweets and fairies, and every time the costumes and the sets are just, like, pink glitter and white gauze mixed with weird racial stereotypes. There’s no imagination.” 

“Well, okay then.” There’s something in his smile, in the turn of his head that she can’t quite identify. “What would you do?” he challenges.

She holds his gaze for a moment, looking into those eyes that almost reflect the color of the sea around them. Her eyes feel a little puffy still, but he doesn’t look away. Then, without breaking away, she flips open a new page in her sketchbook. 

“Space,” she says. “It needs space.”

“Outer?”

“Negative. Lots of space for dancers to move around.” Her pencil scratches over the paper, familiar blocky shapes springing to life. Doric fluted columns split the wings, because of course. “It’s Christmas, so we want color: no sterile, snowy landscape. We know it’s all frozen over--we don’t need to see it again. Obligatory Christmas tree here,” she sketches a crude triangle off to one side, approximately along the golden ratio, “and a big fireplace in the center, preferably a functional one.”

“You know there was this dancer in the nineteenth century that died because her costume caught fire, yeah?”

Annabeth tilts her head, capitulating. “Fair point. We’ll raise it up on a pedestal, keep it out of the way.” She draws a little platform beneath it. “But color is key.” Up above, she draws a pediment crowning the proscenium. She scribbles in the empty space, a placeholder. “Everyone knows the story, so you lay it out up here, episodes merging into each other from start to finish.”

Percy peers down at her page, his chin perilously close to resting on her shoulder. She can’t draw like that. “Kind of reminds me of the Parthenon.”

“You’ve been?”

He nods, his hair tickling the side of her face. “Couple of times. I thought you said you wanted color, though. The Parthenon’s all white, isn’t it?”

“Not originally,” she says. “Do they not explain that on the tours?” 

“Um…” Sheepish, he looks away. “I, uh, I’m not always great at listening.”

God. It’s so endearing. What the hell. She kisses him on the cheek, enjoying the way he flushes lightly. “Me either.” He is so fucking handsome. “But no, the original Parthenon, all those white statues, they were painted. Ergo, color.” 

He blinks, momentarily stunned. “Wouldn’t--uh, wouldn’t that distract from the dancers? People would just be staring at the ceiling.”

“Then… it’s only lit up before and after the show. During the show, you turn the lights down, bring the focus back down onto the stage.” She considered it. Something she’d worked on for a production once, a fashion show Piper had done at Pratt. “Or, you set it up so the colors are mostly lights. Lights that shine through during the snowflake dance and when Clara rides off with the prince. But then you also get the white for the frosted look. But, they’re still too pink, so I don’t think some color variety is bad.”

“So, not to kill your vibe,” Percy says, pulling back a bit, “but I gotta say, I don’t see how this is that different from the billion other Nutcrackers out there.”

She glares, lips pursed. He’s trying so hard not to laugh. Dick. “The set is only half the problem,” she says. “You'd need to redesign the costumes, too.”

“Tell you what. Why don’t you come see my show in December, and then you can tell me all about how you’d fix it.”

“Me and every tourist in New York at Christmas time?”

He nods, like he was expecting it. “Then come to my current one. September isn’t Christmas, so it’ll be a lot less crowded.”

“I don’t know,” she grimaces, sketching a star in the corner of the page. “I don’t really think I’d fit--'' Fit in with those people like the ones from the Eta awards, who thought not being her mother’s lackey was the same as being in rehab.

“Annabeth.” Percy takes her drawing hand, lifting it off the page entirely. The pencil is caught between them, an ineffectual barrier to the sweet, rubbing thumb on the mound of her palm. “I want you to come to my show. I’ll leave you a ticket. No one will care what you look like, I promise.” He stares at her, baby seal eyes in full effect.

Fuck.

“As long as you leave me a ticket,” she says, weakly. “I mean, I wouldn’t be able to afford a good seat.” The lie slips out, easy as anything. She can’t help it.

He smiles, soft and warm and way too inviting. “And in the meantime,” he says, softly, you can come with me tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“I’m going to my parents’ for dinner. It’ll be just my mom, Paul, and my sister. They’d love to meet you.”

“I can’t,” she replies, immediately, almost without thinking. “I’ve got--I’ve got work to do.”

She doesn’t. But boys don’t bring girls like Annabeth home anymore. She isn’t meant to settle down. She’s meant for grimy bars and ship yards. She'll leave it to the princesses to be brought home.

He deflates, just the slightest bit. If she hadn’t had so much up and personal time with his naked chest and the movement of his shoulders, she probably would have missed it. “Maybe next time, then?”

“Yeah,” she agrees, not entirely certain if she means to follow through. “Maybe next time.”

[entertainment]

Entertainment Spotlight: Trae Romano, Stargirl

Trae Romano first appeared on our screens in 555 with Jane Adams, before portraying the youthful flashback of Rory Scovel’s adult Robbie in Comedy Central’s Robbie. He returns to us in Stargirl as Mike Dugan, the overly charming offspring of Pat Dugan (Luke Wilson), and unctuous new step-relative to Stargirl herself, Courtney Whitmore (Brec Bassinger). Trae took a few minutes to answer our questions. Check it out:

What did you do to prepare for the role of Mike? Have you read the original comics? Do you have sibling relationships that you borrowed from?

I prepared for Mike by reading the comic book series. I also had a meeting prior to filming with Geoff Johns at the Stargirl offices in Atlanta and he gave me a lot of insight and an overview of what he expected from Mike. I have 2 older sisters, so I have a lot of experience in being the little brother.

If you were a hero sidekick, what type of sidekick would you be (the techie type/ the comic lover/the fanboy/the researcher, etc.)?

I think if I were a sidekick it would be a combination of a few. I’ve never been good at being held to one idea. I get restless when I’m confined. I’m kind of all over the place in life. I guess it’s my creative mind.

What fandoms, if any, are you in?

Star Wars, DC, and Marvel

Do you have a favorite superhero? Who is it, and why?

I have 2. I’m old school, so Batman is a definite. He’s legendary. But if I had to choose a current day superhero, I really like Shazam. He’s kind of outside the box, which I relate to. 

If a theme song played whenever you entered a room, what song would it be?

Definitely Jimi Hendrix, All Along the Watchtower. He’s a legend. 

You wake up tomorrow as Mike Dugan. What do you do first?

He'd run down the stairs and rummage around the kitchen for some Pop Tarts. He’d sit at the island, make crumbs, and play his Nintendo Switch.  

Did you keep anything from the set (or is there anything from the set that you’d like to keep)?

Funny question. I took a lot of socks.  Not intentionally, it just happened.  I’d forget to take them off after I’d wrap so I ended up with quite the collection.  If I could keep anything from the set it would definitely be Pat’s car.

Do you have a dream role that you’d like to play one day?

I’d love to be in a Taika Waititi or Wes Anderson movie. My biggest dream role would be something in the Star Wars franchise.

What would your dream day-off look like if you could do anything your heart desired?

My dream day would be to hang out with my dad on our boat in Staten Island with a ham, salami, and Swiss on a hero from Frank and Sal’s. Then drive to Little Italy in Manhattan and eat crab sauce and a cappuccino at Angelo’s.

Who in your life is your personal superhero?

My dad is my superhero. He is the smartest man I know.  His love for family is unconditional.  My mom lived through cancer and never let us know just how bad it really was.  She is also the reason I’m able to live my dream. They have both sacrificed a lot so that I could pursue this career. They taught me that commitment and sacrifice is the cornerstone to success. Lastly, Luke Wilson. He has shown me how to be humble and grateful in this crazy business. He always has time for me whenever I ask him anything.

Thanks, Trae! Catch Stargirl on Tuesdays at 8pm on The CW.

Photo: Robert Kazandjian

[jokers-of-the-impractical]

Brian Quinn Mini Series “I Found a Boy” Part 3 of 3

Part 1   Part 2 

Content Warning: Implied Smut, Swearing

Word Count: 2100ish

The warm sunshine peeking through the curtains was a welcome contrast to the chilly weather that lay on the streets of Staten Island below you. You kept your eyes closed to savor the moment for just a short while more, but soon the serene beauty was interrupted by the sound of a beeping alarm clock altering it was now eight in the morning. You felt the bed shift next to you and knew Brian was turning to shut off the noise coming from your bedside table. The cats began to shift as well and leap down from their respective resting spots. As Q did so he leaned his face down and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, instantly a warmth began to rise to your cheeks. “Good morning sweetheart” he muttered out in a half asleep and still raspy voice with an adorable grin and messy hair strewn about his head. As he began to turn back over to get out of bed and begin prepping for the morning ahead of him, you wrapped both your arms around one of his and held on tight. “No. Five more minutes” you grumbled out. You glanced over to see him giggling to himself. He did his best to shimmy out of your arms but it was to no avail. Slowly you climbed on top of him, the satin of your pajama set grazing against his bare chest and boxers. You were not letting the love of your life and personal space heater get up this morning. You raised your head so that your eyes would meet his deep shining orbs lovingly gazing back at you. “Baby, I gotta go! Trust me the sooner I get to the production meeting, the sooner I get to come home and hang out with you.” You let out an overly dramatic sigh and slight chuckle escaped too.

“But Bri, why did they have to schedule a meeting on a weekend! I went to spend my day off with you.” With that you sat up with crisscrossed legs and crossed your arms across your chest. With the last word you let your lips pop out into a pout. He could tell you were joking around with him and sat up to make your eyes meet again. “Well… who knows Mrs. Quinn? Maybe once I get back we can reenact what happened late into the night.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Of course Mr. Quinn.” With that he planted a deep and passionate kiss on your lips before he rose from the bed and started to get ready for his meeting. As you cozied back into bed to escape the cold you silently watched him in awe, how did you get so lucky? You looked down to the engagement ring he had placed on your hand three years ago, and the wedding band that had resided with it for just under two years. You didn’t realize just how lost you had been in your thoughts until he was facing you again, dressed and his signature iced tea with lemon in a travel cup in tow with his car keys. But the smell of the tea today sent your stomach on a tilt-a-whirl. “Well my love, I’m off. I’ll be back before ya know it!” You pecked his lips and he made his way back downstairs and out the door. As soon as you were sure he wouldn’t hear you, you jumped up and sprinted to the bedroom’s ensuite bathroom to release the contents of your stomach. After you had finished, you kept wondering why all of the sudden the smell of iced tea and lemon made you puke? Then it hit you. You started rummaging through the cabinets in the bathroom until you found the hot pink boxes you were looking for. You pulled out the pregnancy tests that the rest of the guys got you as a one-year anniversary present. After making sure they hadn’t expired and how to use them, you go to business, using both just to be sure. You finished up and set the timer on your phone. As you waited you brushed your teeth to get the rancid taste out of your mouth from the unfortunate wake up call you had a few minutes prior. Once the timer chimed letting you know it was time to check, you slowly grabbed both tests and flipped them over to see the results. Both of them were the same. You were pregnant. An immense wave of joy and excitement washed over you. Now you were even more excited for Brian to get home so you could tell him the news. You knew he would be in the meeting until around eleven-thirty so you decided to take a quick shower and find other ways to occupy the time. After the warm droplets of water relaxed your muscles, you put your hair up in a messy bun and decided to throw on an oversized sweater and leggings. You then grabbed some papers you had to look over and grade that were sitting on your desk as well as your favorite bottle of nail polish. As you made your way downstairs to the living room you stopped at the framed photo of you and Brian from your wedding reception. It was a photo from your first dance. There you stood in your spaghetti strap ball gown, and hair done is a style reminiscent of Brigette Bardot with Bri looking very dapper in a tuxedo, he had just told you some silly joke so you were both looking at each other laughing. You could still feel the emotions and see the love in your eyes and his, you remember how happy you both felt them, and know you had the joys of parenthood to look forward to. Since grading elementary school papers was a total breeze you were now sitting with the tv on quietly for some background noise with a freshly dry mani and pedi while curled up and reading a book. Suddenly, loud knocking echoed abruptly throughout the house. You put your book down puzzled and followed the cats to the door. You were expecting anyone, but you opened the door anyway thinking maybe it was Amazon. As the door opened you soon met a familiar pair of eyes, those belonging to a certain ex boyfriend named Dean. “Dean? What are you doing here? Wait. How do you even know where I live?” He shoved his hands into his pant pockets and looked at you with a sheepish smile. “Hey Y/N. Can I come in? I’ve wanted to talk to you for quite some time, and I finally convinced Natasha to tell me your address.” You let out an exasperated sigh, and motioned for him to come in. You made a mental note to call your friend Nat and chew her out later. You knew that she was still friends with Dean after your breakup, but heck she was one of your best friends and bridesmaids! Why would she tell him! You led Dean to the small table in the kitchen, he took a seat while you leaned against the counter. You brewed yourself a mug of hot cocoa to calm the fury and nerves coursing through you. “Do you want anything?” “Um yeah, can I have water?” You went into the fridge, pulled out a bottle, handed it to him and took your place across the table. “What do you want Dean?” the annoyance was evident in your voice. “I just wanted to catch up, see how you were doing.” “I’m doing just fine. How’s Andi?” When you brought up your ex best friend and the girl he cheated on you with, he slightly flinched. “I’m okay. We ended things years ago.” “Aw. I hate to say I’m not surprised. So no other conquests or flings?” He just shook his head. You had no idea where all of this sudden confidence was coming from, but you weren’t complaining. Throughout your relationship Brian had helped you grow even more and get even more brave and strong, if only he could see this now. “Are you still with that guy from TV? Nat told me it was pretty serious.” “Yeah I am still with Brian, in fact he should be back here soon.” You looked at him dumbfounded, did he honestly not know you and Brian had been married for almost two years now? You looked to see that the sleeve of your sweater was covering the rings on your finger. You went to slide the sleeve down to show him the rings, when he suddenly started speaking again while rising up from the table. “Look Y/N, the real reason I’m here is that… I know I messed up. But I’m here now, please leave this Brian guy and we can start over! I love you.” Now you shot up from the table too. “Are you kidding me! You think that after all this time you could just show up and expect me to take you back! I spent so much time crying over you and you didn’t care. Now that I am not only the best version of myself, but I am now happily with the love of my life you think you can show up, ask me to leave him and I’ll go with you? No! You can take all those crocodile tears and go cry me a river like I did over you a long time ago.” In all the commotion, you didn’t hear the front door open or close and the cats going to greet Q. Nor did you hear the footsteps making their way to the kitchen to hear what all the yelling was about. “Brian is the most amazing man in the world, and you will never be a tenth of the man he is! How dare you come here acting like you want me, now that I don’t need you or want anything to do with you.” Then a voice cut of your angry rant. “Aww baby! You really think I’m the most amazing man in the world?” You turned around to see your husband with a bag of Chinese takeout in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. You ran over and jumped into his arms, while he spun you around in a hug. “Honey you’re home! How was your day? I-” You were soon cut off again by Dean. “Wait, you two live together?” You turned your head back to Dean. “Umm yeah. Married couples usually do.” “Wait, you’re married!” Brian then chimed in. “Yup, going on two years. Wait are you Dean?” Dean shook his head, and Brain placed you down gently. “Dude I gotta shake your hand man, cause if it wasn’t for you being a total asshole and idiot I may have never met Y/N. And she’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” He shook his hand vigorously. “Now if you’ll excuse us, I believe I have some lunch waiting for me and my beautiful wife. You can feel free to see yourself out.” With that Dean slumped his shoulders and began to make his way to the front door and you both heard the door open and close. You turned back to Brian and peppered kisses all over his face. “What’s all this for?” you motioned to the takeout and flowers. “Well, I felt so bad about you being here while I was in a meeting so one the way home I went to Chang’s and got our favorites, then I went by the flower stand and got these.” “Bri this is amazing! And I have a surprise for you too.” “Really? Well what is it?” You went back upstairs and grabbed one of the pregnancy tests and hid it behind your back. “Are you ready?” “Oh honey I was born ready!” “Okay, close your eyes, and stick out your hands.” Brian did as he was told and you placed the test gently into his hands. “Okay open ‘em!” Brian sprung his eyes open and looked down. He started at the test for a moment and then the gears started turning. Soon he was trying to get words out but couldn’t. “Y/N, are you?” “Pregnant? Uh-huh!” He grabbed you and picked you up again. ‘We’re gonna have a baby!” He kissed you yet again and set you down gently. The minute you were back on solid ground, his hands went straight to your tummy, and kisses soon followed. You both spent that evening cuddled up on your bed talking about the future until you fell asleep still intertwined and cats all around you both.

[strangestdiary]

under your spell | nandor the relentless

relationship: Nandor/Fem!Reader

request: Hi! Are you still taking requests? If so can I request a jealous!Nandor x reader? 

words: 2.7k

warnings: Angst, asshole dates, fluff

A/N: I feel like the jealousy isn’t really there but I hope you still like it. 

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

---

Nandor noticed there was something different about you today. Having come for his daily visit just as it went dark outside, you had only given him a hello before stalking back over to your closet to nervously comb through your clothes asking what looked better before throwing it into the steadily growing pile. You kept sighing to yourself, mumbling under your breath that you needed a little more color in your wardrobe. He found it strange how urgent you seemed to be, the sweat beading on your forehead being proof enough that you were working yourself up over something seemingly very important to you. 

Since you were Nandor’s first actual human friend in a few centuries give or take he couldn’t help but feel like he was out of the loop, confusion and curiosity pecking at the back of his head. He shifted his legs so they crossed, leaning back in your desk chair and watched as you groan yet again, running your hands over your face. 

“So what exactly is all of this about?” Nandor asked, your frenzied state leaving a tinge of worry as he watched you. Watching you take a blouse he had never seen you in before off it’s hanger with a sigh mumbling how ‘this should do’. 

You glanced over at him, noting how it would almost look like he was floating if it weren’t for the pink back of the desk chair poking out from behind him every so often when he moved from side to side idly. “Chloe set me up on a date with her friend, I sort of know him from when he would come hang out with us sometimes.” You turned back around to your closet again, kneeling down to look for a pair of shoes that would actually look decent with the shirt clutched in your hand. “This is the first actual date I’ve been on in like a year so I’m kind of freaking out if that wasn’t already noticeable.” Your tone of voice was heavy with self depreciation, a chuckle following afterwards to smooth it all down. “He’s nice though. I just hope I don’t screw it up.”

Nandor swore he almost felt his dead heart sink a little, a date? “Interesting.” Was all Nandor found himself saying, he was kind of shocked to even think of the idea of you going on a date. Sure he knew you had human friends and that you didn’t just talk to him or Nadja but it was hard to think of you going on a date with someone. Even then he couldn’t help but scowl, why would some human you barely knew be more important than him? He could offer far more than some weak mortal that your friend had paired you with. Nandor wondered just how interesting this man had to be in order for you to skip a night with himself. 

Nandor’s bitter train of thought was cut off by your voice “I hope you don’t mind. I mean I know we usually have movie nights tonight but he said that tonight was the only good night for him.” You sounded so genuinely apologetic.

Nandor shifted in the small chair as you awaited his response “It is okay. I will just ask Guillermo to watch the Pet Semeteries with me instead. You can go on your little human date.” His response was a lot more defensive than you had hoped, it made your stomach knot slightly, feeling bad for flaking on Nandor without warning. Especially since this was your designated movie night. You couldn’t help but still feel bad though like in a way you had betrayed him especially since Nandor was one of your closest friends, someone you usually told everything to.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you Nandor.” You walked over to him, his head tilting up only barely to look up at you putting on a closed smile that didn’t meet his eyes. A strange aching feeling growing in his chest, even with your promise he still couldn’t help but still feel disappointed. You were giving up your time with him for some puny human man? He wanted to hiss at the thought. 

“It is okay, I understand.” He stood from the desk chair and patted you on the bicep twice, a certain awkwardness to the gesture. “Now if you excuse me I will make my way back home, I have important things to do as well.” The tone of his voice completely betrayed what he was saying, blatantly trying to guilt you out of the date all together. 

You couldn’t help but smile up at him, feeling a distant ache of your own resting in your heart. “I’ll see you tomorrow Nandor, and to make up for skipping movie night I’ll let you pick out two movies to watch.” Before he turned his back to you and walked out the door you grabbed his hand, his cold skin comforting in your night of nervousness “I really am sorry.” 

Nandor’s eyes were on your joined hands, a certain fluttering feeling ripping through his stomach. “I- It’s okay.” His gaze lifted up to catch your eyes, a soft smile stretching across his lips before slowly releasing your hand from his own. “I will see you tomorrow.” 

----

You had finally gotten ready after Nandor left and drove to the restaurant you and Daniel were meant to meet at. This wasn’t your first time meeting him but it was the first time you had been alone with him, usually Chloe being there as well as some other friends. 

He had seemed kind and caring and like he was genuinely interested in you when Chloe was around, and according to her he had practically begged her to score this date with you. You had liked him then but when he sat himself down in front of you now, there was something different about him. The smile he gave you made your skin prick uncomfortably but you brushed it off thinking it was merely first date jitters. 

You smiled back at him, looking at him fully. “You look good.” you complimented truthful in your words, noticing how the grey button up he wore brought out the freckles sprinkling his skin. His hair was styled nicely, looking soft and fluffy. You noticed his nails were painted notably a while ago given how chipped the black coating was now, it reminded you of Laszlo for a second. 

He looked at you over the top of the menu, a brow raised in question “Thanks.” He replied with a slightly cocky tone, setting the menu down in front of him. “You look nice too.” He gestured to you.

You felt your chest swell with pride, maybe tonight would go a little better than you had previously thought. Your nervousness melted away in the moment as you glanced down at the menu. 

Though unfortunately it wasn’t long before Daniel began to show his true colors, slipping in condescending remarks and a teasing chuckle any time you would talk about something you were interested in, only to cut you off to talk about him more and more. You couldn’t help but sigh audibly as he droned on about his extensive research on war history, specifically the second world war, it almost made you think Colin had somehow learned how to shapeshift but you also knew that Colin had the decency to at least be a tad bit respectful. 

“So what’s your favorite film?” He asked, “Mine is probably pulp fiction. You know the way Tarantino just knows how to make a good film is just amazing.”

You shrugged your shoulders lightly, mulling over the question “I don’t know, probably something horror, it’s hard to choose.” 

Daniel groaned before shaking his head “I don’t understand why people watch that shit, I mean why do people want to get scared on purpose?” He smiled over at you, “I mean seriously it just seems stupid. I personally hate horror movies, and the gore.” He let out a sigh and shook his head again as if disgusted with even the idea of horror movies “I just don’t get how people watch that stuff without feeling sick.” 

After that it just seemed like he wouldn’t stop talking, topic after topic he dominated with his overbearing opinions. Anything you expressed interest in he would belittle, undermining them and making them seem lesser than his own, and yet he still smiled over at you as if you were supposed to be having fun. 

“How about we get outta here? I can take you back to my place.” He reached over the table to grab your hand, you instinctively pulled away from him. Disgust settling like a rock in your stomach. “Come on, don’t act like that.” He chuckled. There was something in his eyes that unsettled you more than anything that night. “I could show you a really good time.” He reached for your hand again, fingers wrapping around your wrist blunt nails biting into your skin.

You grabbed your bag, backing up in your chair feeling your eyes sting, wrenching your wrist out of his hand. “N- no that’s fine actually. I have someone who’s coming to pick me up.” You stumbled over the chair leg a little when you stood ignoring his exasperated huff before trying to convince you to sit back down. You shakily tore money from your wallet not even bothering to count it before throwing it next to your unfinished drink and rushing away from the table. 

----

You burst through the gothic Staten Island home with a sob, having held it in the whole drive to the house as a way to avoid crashing your car. Relief briefly filled you as you noticed there was nobody in the foyer to witness your much less than presentable state. With how quiet the home was you assumed nobody was even home, but either way you still rushed to Nandor’s room hoping to seek some type of solace after your disastrous night. There was a certain lightness that you felt in your heart at the thought of Nandor being there for you, a flutter in your chest. 

Once you opened the door you couldn’t help but let out a relieved sigh that he was standing at his antique writing desk that you had bought him as a birthday gift just two years ago. He spun on his heels letting out a surprised gasp “Is it Halloween already?” he said before noticing it was just you. 

You let out a teary laugh sniffling grossly, Nandor did a double take before realizing the messy tears and black streaks running down your face. A certain type of rage settled over him like a shadow, who had done this to you? His kind and caring human trembling at his door. 

Nandor walked over to where you stood grabbing your hand gently and ushering you over to the small loveseat sitting in the corner of his room, more of a decorative piece than used for actual comfort. You didn’t miss the dust that picked up around the both of you as you sat down. “What creature did this to you?” There was a darkness in his voice, a threatening look washed over his features. 

“Daniel…” You spat, the night replaying in your head. For a second you had wondered if you were overreacting. Maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal and you were pushing it out of proportion, but you couldn’t help but feel that disgusting crawl on your skin where he had touched. He had seemed like such a nice person the other times you had met him, why was he so different now? What had changed? 

Nandor remembered now, your human date that you had been so nervous about a few hours prior. He felt one of his hands curl into a fist, a certain type of anger he couldn’t place overcoming him. Some worthless human had hurt you this badly, the pain he wished to bring this Daniel was unthinkable. 

You sniffled again wiping your nose with the back of your hand before forcing out a pitiful laugh, a painful sound to Nandor’s ears “I’m sorry for coming here… I’m probably just overreacting.” You shook your head at yourself before giving him a strained smile,. “He was just a jerk... I’m probably being stupid.” 

Nandor’s dead heart aches when hearing you speak, why were you sorry? You were clearly hurt so why did you feel so apologetic when someone else had hurt you. “It is not your place to say sorry, Y/N.” Nandor reasoned. His hand came up to cup your face, thumb raking over your stained cheek. “I am here if you wish to tell me about your date.” He almost sounded reluctant to say the word itself. 

You smiled at him a few more tears slipping from your eyes at his gentleness, a complete contrast to the other man you had tortured yourself with, but you guessed it wasn’t your fault. “He was awful.” You started “And he didn’t shut his mouth. All he did was look at me like I was a piece of meat.” You vented to Nandor for almost two hours, his attention never venturing away from you. He gripped onto every word you said, not even interrupting to say a quip of his own like usual. 

Once you were done and your second round of tears had finally dried Nandor smiled at you sweetly, his thumb caressing the top of your hand. “Well if you would like. Maybe some night I could take you on a real date.” You tensed up a little, taken by surprise yet again that night, but for a completely different reason. 

Never in your time knowing him had you ever considered the possibility of Nandor uttering words quite like that. He wanted to go on a date… with you? A human? He looked at you with such sincerity you felt your heart swell. You had suspected your feelings for Nandor for a while now but never even thought about pursuing them given how your mortality circumstances. You had always assumed he would look down on something so taboo as a vampire dating a human. 

“You look like a soul sucking ghoul just entered the room.” Nandor commented squeezing your hand in his. 

“Those exist?” You couldn’t help but ask, a laugh following. You felt winded looking into Nandor’s adoring eyes. “I didn’t even think you would be into the whole human vampire thing.” His face twisted slightly before smoothing back over.

“I wasn’t really… Not before I met you I’ve come to realize.” He said “I’m not one to judge but it wasn’t really my type of thing, but after Nadja had brought you to the house for the first time. Then when we actually became friends, well I guess my perspective began to shift.” Your stomach felt like it was doing flips, a smile coming to your lips. 

You intertwined your fingers with Nandor’s, nodding your head after considering his heavy hitting words “I would love to go on a date with you Nandor.” Your eyes were stinging once again “I mean in a way I’m sure I’ve always had feelings for you since we first met.” You confessed thinking back to the time you saw him for the first time only four years ago, your nervousness and Nadja’s encouraging words before hissing at Laszlo who assumed you were meant to be food. 

Nandor hoisted you up off the dusty loveseat with a wide smile spreading across his face “Wonderful! Let’s go.” 

“What right now?” You asked as he dragged you towards his bedroom door and down the hall to the foyer where Colin was rounding the corner. It only took a second to remember how messy you probably looked, knowing your makeup was probably ruined and stained against your cheeks. 

“Yes! There’s still three more hours until daylight!” Nandor enthused, grinning at you over his shoulder. 

[lolahasmoxie]

Christmas Eve

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x Y/N

Warning: curse words, tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 1351

Notes: Popped into my head while watching Die Hard and drinking Bourbon-laced Egg Nog. Merry Christmas ya filthy animals.

You’d had a very trying and exhausting day. All you wanted to do was lie on the couch and watch John McClane kick some bad-guy ass, but now you were being forced off the couch to answer the person who was now incessantly banging on your apartment door.

“C’mon Y/N, I know you’re in there!” You knew that voice; it belonged to your former partner and now ADA Sonny Carisi. When you opened the door, you saw his expression going from annoyance to confusion in a fraction of a second.

“Sonny, what are you doing here? I thought you’d be in Staten Island?”

“My sisters and I decided we were all gonna stay at home, we didn’t want my folks to get sick. You’re okay.”

“Uh, yeah. Should I not be?” You moved aside and let Sonny into your apartment. He looked around for a moment while he gathered his bearings; it had been a while since he had been over. The small space was decorated with lights and a Christmas tree, the smell of cookies still fresh in the air.

“Finn called, said you got hurt following a perp today. I swear that call took a freaking year off my life.” You groaned at the memory of this afternoon and your annoyance at your meddling partner. “You gonna tell me what happened, why you didn’t call me?”

“Nothing happened.”

“It had to be something for Finn to call me.” You sighed, looking away as your cheeks grew red. You muttered something under your breath. “What, what did you say?”

“I fell.”

“You fell.”

“Yes, Sonny…. I fell. We were chasing a perp and I didn’t see a patch of ice and I went ass over heels. Must have looked pretty bad cause the guy stopped running and came back to see if I needed help.”

“Seriously?” you nodded, and you watched as he scanned you over to see for himself. You were dressed in bright tacky Christmas leggings and an oversized Die Hard shirt, your right ankle sporting an ace bandage.

“Yep, ankle hurt a bit, so I had Rollins wrap it before I came home. Only thing hurt was my pride.” You studied his face; he truly had a terrible poker face, and you knew that there was something else going on. “So are you going to tell me why you came over here guns blazing?” He looked at the floor, his tell-tale sign that was going to think before he spoke, so you crossed your arms and waited.

“Finn said your name and hurt, and I felt my heart drop to my stomach.”

“Sonny, that’s part of the job, you know that.”

“I know, but it’s different now that I’m off the force, I can’t be there to watch your back anymore.”

“Sonny, you know I can handle myself.”

“Never said you couldn’t….”

“Then why are you freaking out?”

“Because I’m scared of losing you!” he said loudly. That was not the explanation you were expecting and judging by the look on Sonny’s face you were sure that he hadn’t planned on divulging that bit of information either. A moment passed before you could bring yourself to speak.

“Sonny, I’m going to ask you something and you have to be completely honest with me.” He pursed his lips, nodding his head for you to continue. “How long have we known each other?”

“6 years.” He said without missing a beat. You took a deep breath; it was now or never.

“And how long have you had feelings for me.” He sniffed, looking away from you as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“About five minutes after our first conversation. When I first saw you, I thought you were so pretty, and then after five minutes I was hooked. You are so smart, and you have the kindest heart out of anyone I’ve ever met.  I know I should have said something sooner, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.” He finally met your gaze, and your mind flashed through every single stolen glance, every moment where you wondered and hoped that there might be a chance that he felt the same way that you did. He sighed, then looked away, stuffing his hands into his jacket. “Look, I’m glad you’re okay, I should get going.” You were shocked back into reality when he moved to leave, and you figured it was now or never. You stepped directly in front of him, reached up for his collar, and pulled him down until your lips met. He did nothing at first, but then his hands cupped your face, and it was perfect. When you finally pulled away for air, you stared at each other, elation filling you when a huge grin spread across Sonny’s handsome face.

“We should have done that sooner.” He chuckled leaning down to kiss you again, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer to him.

“So, what happens now?”

“If I know you, you have your go bag in your car?” He looked away with a smirk, a clear sign that you had guessed correctly. “Why don’t you grab it while I get us some drinks, and then we’ll watch a movie.”

“It’s a date.” He leaned down to kiss you again, and you tossed him your apartment key before he left. You pulled down two whiskey glasses and filled them with eggnog and bourbon before sitting down on your couch. You pulled up Die Hard on the TV and only had to wait about 10 minutes before Sonny came back. He kicked off his sneakers and jacket before joining you on the couch, his arm going around your shoulder as you handed him his drink.

“Holy shit, how much booze is in this?”

“Hey, I fell in front of a perp today. Ugh, there’s definitely going to be a bruise on the side of my ass in the morning.” Sonny chuckled as he brought the glass to his lips.

“You know, I could always kiss it and make it better.” You playfully shoved his shoulder before starting the movie. By the time John had saved the day and Nakatomi Plaza, Sonny was reclining on the couch and you were comfortably nestled into his side, your eggnog glasses empty on the coffee table. You yawned as you turned off the TV, the Christmas lights bathing your apartment in a warm colorful glow. “I guess that’s my cue to hit the road.”

“Absolutely not.” You replied as you both got off the couch. “Look, it’s late and I would really like for you to stay over. We can talk in the morning, ok?” He nodded, a huge grin on his face, and he kissed you quickly before you both began to clean up. The door was checked, the lights turned off, and the glasses cleaned before you both found yourselves in your bedroom. You had changed in the bathroom, your heart beating fast at everything that had happened. When you came out, Sonny looked at you and honest to God blushed. He walked past you into the bathroom while you pulled back the comforter and got in your bed. You leaned against the headboard, closing your eyes until you heard Sonny a moment later. You opened an eye to see him with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes looking at you with complete adoration. It was a look you could get used to.

“You’re staring.”

“I just really like seeing you in bed, waiting for me. I never thought this would happen.”

“C’mon, let’s go to sleep.” He pulled back the comforter, and when you turned on your side you felt your breath hitch when he curled his body behind yours. He placed his arm around your waist, and you couldn’t hide your shivers when you felt his warm breath against your neck. His warmth enveloped you completely, and in minutes you felt sleep calling for you. Before you drifted off you felt Sonny’s lips lay a kiss to your shoulder, his voice raspy in your ear.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas, Sonny.”