#the fact he's saying he's letting his family (supporters) down by not being honest about how much he's hurting

[cartoonsinthemorning]

So I absolutely love all your thoughts and ideas about a fem Stan, but what about a fem Ford? I feel like that could also be a really fun dynamic. Stan trying to be the man and protecting fem!Ford from bullies, but is really just entirely wrapped around Fords fingers. And then! The jealousy could come into play in other ways! Like Stan starts dating someone and Ford is pissed about it so she leaves a lipstick mark on his collar or subtly sprays him with perfumes so that Stans partner thinks he was cheating and leaves him. And the obsessionnn. Imagine her stealing Stan’s shirts and sleeping in them just because they smell like him. Or staring at him while he sleeps and sketching him in her personal diary (though let’s be real, canon Ford did that too lol.) Anyways, I also like the idea of all of these pent up feeling finally coming out and her just riding Stan until he can’t think straight and her being like “that’s right, you’ll never have it this good with anyone else.” Idk. Thoughts?

Hello new friend! Thank you for enjoying my thoughts and ideas about fem!Stan, and for now kickstarting a conversation about fem!Ford too! I have a lot of thoughts. So many, in fact, that before moving to the shippy part, I need to focus on Ford alone, first. What would differ, was he born a girl. Quite a lot. I’m gonna be blunt. All things Ford had been oppressed by, in canon, would hit ten times harder, if he was a girl. Take academic ambitions, for example: I’m not saying that fem!Ford’s extraordinary intelligence wouldn’t had earned her praise. I just doubt she would had been encouraged to pursue higher education, and convert her studies into a career. A jewish WOMAN into STEM? Back then? I don’t think any of her teachers suggested she shoots for a prestigious university- why give her and her family unrealistic expectations? Ma and Pa would had been happy to have a smart, studious daughter, but I’m sure the idea to invest into her studies would had been up to debate, if not shot down immediately: to spend that type of money, when her likely future job would be either high school science teacher, or museum curator- would had been a pointless waste, to someone like Filbrick Pines.

To be honest, I think teen fem!Ford would had rather been encouraged, by her parents, to attend professional classes instead, something like a typewriting course- in order to find a stable secretary job, for example, after high school. Can you imagine, someone with Ford’s potential, being told “Well honey, at least you can put those extra fingers to a practical use, if you learn to type very fast”? Can you imagine how UTTERLY humiliated fem!Ford must had felt, all the time? Just like Ford, I think she’d be perfectly aware what a genius she is, and how drastically she’s been underestimated. And yet, she’d have to take in consideration the evidence: it doesn’t matter how great her mind is. They are right, there’s no place that would want her. The only person that would root for her, ever the dreamer, would be Stanley. He’d just take her hands, wipe her tears away, and promise, with naive, granitic certainty, that he will find a way to help her. His plans would range from completely unrealistic and cartoonish (“Ya could invent a machine that turns me into a brainiac, and once Pa send me to that tech uni ya like, I’ll sneak you in the classes, and you’ll take my place!”), to painfully sweet, albeit still unrealistic (“If Pa doesn’t want to support ya, I’ll take two or three jobs and pay for your studies and stuff myself!”). Stanley would look at his sister with bright eyes, and a huge optimistic grin, stating that she’s the smartest gal that ever existed, so there’s NO WAY she won’t become some posh scientist and prove everyone in Glass Shard Beach wrong. Every time Stanley would pull his stupid, naive, adoring Protector Knight acts, fem!Ford would feel so angry at herself for blushing, and for her heart-rate speeding up. Because it’s so intoxicating to be believed in, but she can’t afford to fall for Stanley’s overly-hopeful view of her condition, and she can’t afford to fall for him either. And this brings me to yet another point I wanted to make: self-esteem, and societal expectations.

If canon Ford’s hands got him bullied, and classified as freak- for a girl, they would had also been a mark of ugliness and considered remarkably un-feminine. I bet F., as a little girl, suffered a lot for having more in common with the grotesque antagonistic creatures of her favorite books, rather than the princess. And I’m sure EVERYONE around her didn’t fail to make her notice too. In subtle ways, sometimes. Like her mom suggesting she gets ear-rings, for her birthday, rather than bracelets, because it would be best not to concentrate more attention on those, right? Even if teen fem!Ford would act aloof, as if she didn’t care anymore, she’d be so self conscious about her large palms and extra fingers- so unfeminine and gross- she’d fantasize about chopping them off quite often. If Stanley hadn’t happily held her hand throughout their childhood, and “made fun” of how tiny her hands look in his large ones, as teenagers, maybe she would have, in a fit of self-hate. Thing is, fem!Ford would hold grudges and set secret standards in her head. It’s not like she thinks she’d never be able to get a boyfriend, despite her hands: she doesn’t look horrible, she’d be pretty, even, if she cared for her appearance like her moms begs her to do- but F. wouldn’t be able to suppress the burning conviction that “No other man but Stanley deserves me”. Other men may want her despite her hands, but Stanley was there since the beginning, telling her her hands make her more special than any other girl, like she was magical, like she belong in the fairy tales book she used to read aloud to him. What a stab to the heart, then, that she can’t have him. Not only because they are siblings, but because, just like you said, Stanley would date someone else. Carla, and some other stupid bitch that F. would need to get rid of, because they don’t deserve Stanley like she does neither! I love all the strategies you listed, to “mark her territory” and push other girls away!! I love toxic, jealous girlies!! I don’t condone Ford’s yanderism, but fem!Ford has my blessing. She can be a creep, as a treat. As for the part you mentioned, about fem!Ford snapping and riding Stan- YES I also agree, AND I’d like to add to it. In this AU, Stanley isn’t a misogynist in the classic sense: he doesn’t consider his sister an inferior at all. But… he would not be immune to absorbing the Madonna-whore complex:Girls like Carla- he can fool around with, because they are that kind of girls. Promiscuous, slutty- bad girls. But his sister is different. She’s so virtuous, so smart- his pure, innocent little sister. Stanley would NEVER lay a finger on her. Yes, he may admit to himself he is in love with her, which is also horrible, but at least he would never, ever sexualize her. Cue Stanley playing dumb, or finding excuses to weasel away, whenever fem!Ford flirted with him, or even made clear advances- during the entire length of their teenage years. Until fem!Ford just. Decided she couldn’t take it anymore, stripped naked, slipped into Stan’s bed, and grinded and kissed his neck until he caved, lmao. I have even more thoughts, but it’s getting late, here. I must cut the yapping short, for now. Please, feel free to come chat again, and throw more ideas of your own at me! Thank you for this one, MMMMWAH, baci baci!

[hugcollector]

"Just when you think you've got it back, your mojo is coming back... you feel the people, and you feel the fighting spirit. And then... you let... the people down. You let the only family that you have down by telling them that you're okay when you're not!"

"Cause I'm... I'm not okay... I'm not okay... I'm not okay."

El Phantasmo's Backstage Comments - NJPW G1 CLIMAX 34 7/28/24

[dokries]

HII if your taking requests I would love a scoups image where him and reader are already dating but kuma likes her more that him and scoups gets a bit jelly thank you I love your work

number one

pairing: choi seungcheol (s.coups) x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 596

warnings: an attack with love, being chased around, cheol being pouty, kkuma. my princess.

author note: AAA thank you so much anon <33 i appreciate the support so much 🫶 i hope you like this !!

masterlist

related to how to get to know a dog (and their owner)

seungcheol doesn’t know how this happened if he’s being honest.

yes, he did get to know you solely because of your interest in his family dog, kkuma, but he didn’t expect kkuma to love you as much as you loved her. in fact, kkuma warming up to you was a major accomplishment, all the way back when you first started dating. of course seungcheol’s glad; two important parts of his life being together is great! he can spend time with both of you at once and everyone’s happy.

however…he doesn’t understand why his dog goes to you first when the two of you enter the door of his family apartment. it can’t be because seungcheol goes to greet his mother first, giving her a side hug before entering the living room. his mother notices the sulky look on his face and cackles, calling your name. “look, cheol’s jealous of you because kkuma loves you more than him!”

you scratch behind the mentioned dog’s ears before joining in on the laughter—you stop when cheol’s pout grows infinitely worse, and he groans. “i never said that, ma! and you,” he looks at you sharply before pouting harder—somehow, that’s possible. “i love you but come on! we all know i’m number one in kkuma’s heart, so why are you trying to take my place?!”

you roll your eyes at his accusation, getting up to grab his hands, kkuma trailing behind you as if she owns the place—well, in a way she does, considering that the building is named after her. you grab your boyfriend’s hands before smiling sweetly. “my love.” cheol’s face warms at the nickname, and his mother groans about young love in the corner of the room. you continue, “kkuma just likes me better, and you have to deal with it! it’s not my fault i’m more interesting than you.”

you stick your tongue out at seungcheol, his mouth wide open before he closes his eyes, trying to calm himself. sensing danger, you back away from him slowly, almost tripping over kkuma. seungcheol calls your name eerily soft as his eyebrow twitches before he yells out your name and starts to chase you around the living room. cheol’s mother sighs at your childish antics as you run around her, using the light blue loveseat in the middle of the room to block your boyfriend.

“cheol, what—” you start before he lunges for you, grabbing you in a tight hug. seungcheol lets you go once you freeze in place, breathing heavily as he glares at you. “kkuma likes me better, okay? i promise you, i’ll always be her favourite, no matter how much she loves you!” he says as you giggle at him.

taking cheol’s hand in yours, you speak gently, not wanting to rile him up more. “sweetie, it’s not a competition, you know that, right?”

your boyfriend sighs before nodding, and pulling you into a hug once more—except this one is meant as an apology, and not to hold you down. kkuma barks up at the two of you, whining for more ear scratches and pets.

you grin mischievously at cheol before placing a kiss on his cheek. “you know…we can work together to give kkuma all the love she deserves, right?”

he looks back at you with the same expression on his face before giggling and poking your cheek. “we’re her parents after all, aren’t we?”

you nod at cheol seriously, choosing to ignore the offended scoff you hear from his mother, and bend down together to attack kkuma with as much love as possible.

[allisluv]

Emily prentiss x single mom!reader, Emily introducing her new gf reader and her kid to the team?

meet the family -- e.p

summary: emily introduces you and your daughter, verity, to the team.

pairing: emily prentiss x single mom!reader

word count: 1.1k

content warnings: derek being a lovable menace and interrogating reader but he's just worried for emily! apart from that, i don't think there is anything else but if there is, just lmk! <3

author's note: thinking about turning this into a series so feel free to send in as many scenarios for these two as you'd like! <3

when emily tells you that she wants to introduce you to her friends from work, you're nervous, to say the least. you've heard great things about the bau— not only are they damn good at their job, they also treat each other like family.

you're sure they're lovely people, honest, but part of you wonders just how nice they will be when they find out you have a daughter. you've been going out with emily for the better part of six months, and while she has been nothing but supportive of you being a single mother, that doesn't mean everyone else will be as understanding.

over the last four years, you've faced a lot of backlash about being a single mother. in fact, you had started to give up hope altogether on finding someone new. people do not like to take someone on when they have priorities or "baggage", as one man called it. you were debating taking down your tinder profile when emily messaged you— and boy were you glad she did.

"relax, my love," emily soothes, resting her hand on your thigh as she focuses on the long stretch of road ahead. "it's just dinner. and i promise they don't bite. well, derek might, but he's all talk and i'll kick him in the balls if i have to."

you laugh, wiping your clammy palms down the front of your black blouse. "are you sure i look alright? i feel stupid in this skirt."

before emily can get a word in, verity pipes up from the backseat. "you look pretty, mommy."

you meet her eye in the rear view mirror and smile. her words settle your nerves ever so slightly. "thank you, honey."

"see?" emily quirks a brow. "verity knows her stuff, don't you, v?"

verity is too busy playing with her barbie dolls to give emily a proper answer, but she hums her agreement, which is good enough. emily brings your hand up to her mouth and presses soft kisses to your knuckles, something that she's learnt over the last few months that soothes you.

emily holds your hand, verity holding your other, as you walk into the restaurant. it's buzzing with life, and it's warm, which makes a change to the bitter cold outside.

you hear someone call emily's name, and your heart sinks into a pit in your stomach. as if she can sense your anxiety— and lets be real, she's a profiler, so she more than likely can— she squeezes your hand and leans down to kiss your forehead. "that's jj."

a blonde with bangs pulls emily into a hug as the rest of the team stand to their feet. before you have time to back out of the situation altogether, a woman with orangey-red hair squeals and envelopes you in her arms. "i'm penelope!"

"hi!" you giggle, placing a hand over your chest in an effort to keep your heart from beating so fast. you give her your name and she compliments you on how pretty you are. "thank you," you laugh.

as you go around the table, learning everyone's names-- david and jj and aaron and spencer and the infamous derek-- you feel a tug on your arm. verity's hiding behind your legs and you hoist her onto your hip, not caring who's watching. she winds her chubby arms around your neck, and buries her face into your blouse.

"who've we got here?" spencer smiles, trying to catch verity's eye.

you look to emily for help and she places a reassuring hand on your lower back. "this is my girlfriend, and her daughter, verity."

for a minute no one says anything, and you debate running back out the front door and away from the prying eyes. you swallow the lump in your throat as emily's thumb traces soothing patterns against your lower back.

aaron cracks a tiny smile, something that looks to be a rare occurrence, and puts his hands on his hips. "it's nice to meet you, verity. how old are you?" verity pulls her face away from where it's buried in your blouse for just long enough to hold up four small fingers. "i have a son, jack, who's just a little bit older than you! he's five! maybe next time i could bring him and the two of you could play together? how does that sound?"

verity flails her legs about, a sign that she wants to be let down. you oblige, and she stands by your side, gripping your hand like a vice. "does jack like superheroes?"

aaron grins. "he does indeed."

verity juts her chin out. "then it's a date."

the team erupt into laughter and derek mutters something fondly about how jack will have his work cut out with this one.

emily pulls your chair out and you sit down, offering your girlfriend a smile in return. she sits beside you and verity makes herself comfortable in the chair on your other side. "i couldn't find a babysitter on such short notice, i'm sorry."

spencer dismisses you with a wave of his hand. "don't be. 66% of babysitters are between the ages of 11 to 13 anyway. did you know that?"

you smile. emily had filled you in about spencer’s rambling. while some people found it annoying, you found it endearing. “i didn’t know that."

derek leans across the table, using his elbows to prop himself up. "so..." he says to you. "what are your intentions with emily?" penelope whacks him across the back of the head. "what? it's a simple question!"

your face flushes scarlet. emily takes your hand under the table. "well, my intentions with emily are strictly confidential, if you know what i mean." you bat your lashes and rest your chin in the palm of your hand. you cover verity's ears. "does that answer your question or do you need the nitty gritty details of our sex life, too?"

jj bursts into a fit if giggles, aaron almost chokes on his red wine and derek ducks his head to hide his embarrassed smile.

"she's fiery," david notes. "i can see why you like her, em."

"well, i'm in love with emily," you announce. "and, unfortunately for you guys, i'm in it for the long haul, so you're stuck with me." you catch derek's eye from over the rim of your cocktail glass. "have you got a problem with that?"

derek tongues the inside of his cheek, smiles, and shakes his head. "not at all. i hope you don't mind me being rude, i was just seeing if you could hold your own, that's all. no hard feelings?"

you shake his hand across the table. "no hard feelings."

emily lets go of your hand to fold her arms across her chest. "im glad the air is cleared between the two of you, but if you ever pull a stunt like that again, i will castrate you."

"is that a threat?" derek muses.

"no," emily says, slipping her hand into yours. "It's a promise."

[akutasoda]

Hii! I absolutely love your writing!

Could i request dazai (and any other characters if youd like) with an softhearted s/o whos mother is very manipulative and just falls into it like she deep down kinda hates her mother cause her mother has all control of her life whenever shes around her and she has to put on an act of being perfect 24/7 for her mother and she cant even tell her mother that she feels horrible and tired becouse of this cause of the manipulation and she would feel bad for her mother

Im sorry if its confusing or written wrong english isnt my first language!

mother knows best

synopsis - when their s/o has a manipulative mother

includes - dazai, chuuya, nikolai

warnings - gn!reader, reader has a controlling mother, fluff, angst with comfort, hints towards murder, manipulation, wc - 717

a/n: hii! thank you! :) just wanna say if anyone has a similar situation to this please speak up, i know it may seem difficult to do but it helps so much

osamu dazai ★↷

↪he absolutely loved how genuinely kind and sweet you were. he found it hard to believe somebody like you really would date someone like him.

↪he thought it was rather nice that you're mother always reached out to you and checked ok you often. but from around the second time he saw your mother around you he knew something was up.

↪he would catch the very quick tenses and looks of gatred before you put on your best smile and continued being kind. he never said anything because he felt like it wasn't his place to get involved in your family affairs.

↪but he really couldn't help but ask after your mother always seemed to decide what you were doing and when - especially because you became so tired looking.

↪and when he asked you really couldn't help but finally let it all out. all the years of your mother controlling your life, making you feel horrible and how you felt so helpless. all dazai could do was hold you and let you get all your feelings out.

↪he knew a thing about manipulation and so had no issue in stepping in himself and started to remove your mother's control. little by little ridding you of the manipulation from your mother until she could finally leave you alone.

chuuya nakahara ★↷

↪he really felt someone as sweet and kind as you shouldn't end up with someone in his line of work but he'd allow himself as he really loved you.

↪seeing how close you and your mother were made him feel happy for you. he did think it was really sweet and he could only wish for that sort of relationship with family - that was until he started seeing some signs.

↪he started getting an off feeling whenever your mother spoke for you, deciding what you were doing. he started really disliking your mother after seeing how tired you were becoming.

↪he wouldn't hesitate to voice his concerns to you and your mother and hated the fact that she still answered for you. so instead he asked you directly and wanted an answer, he wouldn't want you to be hurt by your own mother.

↪and when you finally let all your feelings go he only offered you his undivided attention and support. he absolutely hated how someone that was your family could do this too you and so would happily intervene.

↪if you allowed him, he would be brutally honest. sparing no sympathy in his words and telling your mother outright to leave you alone and to let you be your own person and wouldn't let up until she got the message.

↪if you didn't allow him, he'd begrudgingly step back. but he'd still oppose your mother very happily and would always make sure that she let up her control of your life slowly and subtly.

nikolai gogol ★↷

↪he thought you were the absolute sweetest. your genuine kindness would be something bew to him and he quickly learnt to happily indulge himself in it. he practically clings to you for affection

↪he also liked how close you were to your mother. he admired that connection to your family and always thought it was sweet. but he very quickly started thinking the opposite.

↪he would note how she always spoke for you and decided what you did. how you always seemed more fake when she was around, which was often, and how sometimes you'd even become tense.

↪he would have no issue in asking about the whole situation but he gathered it was probably sensitive so he would wait to ask you in private. he would listen diligently to your worries and how tired you were.

↪hearing about how your mother controlled you made him quite upset. it really went against his whole desire for freedom and so he'd be willingy to do absolutely anything to help you regain that freedom.

↪if you were fine with it, he'd happily be brutal with it. now i wouldn't go into details but he hasn't exactly got a moral compass and would happily dispose of your mother.

↪but if you disagreed with his methods he'd become more subtle. removing your mother's influence bit by bit until you could completely remove her influence over your entire life.

[wardenparker]

Detective Tim Rockford with “I thought you liked forehead kisses” 😌 because I love forehead kisses

Tim Rockford. 2,836 words. "I thought you liked forehead kisses." Co-written with @absurdthirst Warnings: Grief, trauma from family death, discussions of death, angst, discussion of divorce, reconciliation Sequel to: “Wait! Please don’t leave!”

The days are shorter right now. He excuses himself by saying that he’s just checking in with you, but that’s easy considering you are still staying in his house. Weeks have come and gone, the crime scene tape has been cleared from the yard and the front door of the house you shared with your sister, but you haven’t been able to go back there, not even to pick up clothes. Opening the door to the house he is once more sharing with you, he calls out your name, turning and closing the door with a decisive click and turning the deadbolt to give you that extra sense of security you need. “Sweetheart? Where are you?”

“I’m in the kitchen.” Such a Donna Reed thing to say, but it’s true. And the semblance of a normal routine is helping to ground you, if you’re honest. The office is letting you work from home while you sort out your family tragedy and try to cope, but the fact is that being back in the house that you and Tim picked out together gives you a sense of safety and security.

He drops his keys on the entryway table and shucks his jacket, his shoulder harness still in place over his button down shirt as he walks into the kitchen. “Hey.” He sends you a soft smile, still trying to ignore how right it seems to have you here. He had been sharing his bed with you, not fucking you, but you had curled into his arms that first night and he hadn’t been able to turn you away when you needed comfort. “How are you doing today?”

“About the same.” No one expected this to be easy for you, but having Tim to lean on for support has helping more than you could possibly know. “But I, um…I made chicken parm for dinner…” It’s the smallest thing you could possibly do to thank him for taking you in, and it turns out that after all these years cooking is fairly soothing for you. The machinations of the kitchen are a comforting routine. So making his favourite dinner was not a very hard leap to take.

“You didn’t have to do that.” His protest is perfunctory, already drooling at the thought of your chicken parm. He’s never found one close to it. “But thank you.” Moving over to give you a hug, he presses his lips to your forehead gently.

It’s such a small gesture, but it warms you through to the point of making you ache. Practically making you melt against him. “What was that for?” You ask, almost like you’re afraid of what he might be getting ready to tell you. It’s been three weeks and you’re still here — maybe he wants you to leave or has finally realized this whole thing is inappropriate. Or worse — he’s realized that you still have feelings for him.

Tim pulls back, worried that he had possibly overstepped. He’s tried so hard, but it’s almost impossible when he’s still in love with you. Never stopped loving you if he’s honestly with himself. He shoots you a sheepish look. “I thought you liked forehead kisses.” He murmurs softly.

“I do.” And your cheeks are burning at the seemingly innocent show of affection. “I just…I’m surprised you remember, that’s all.” It seems like such a tiny thing to you. That fact that he remembers speaks volumes.

“I remember.” Tim answers quietly, his eyes sliding away from your face before he admits he remembers everything about what you like.

“I do, too.” You remember everything. The good and the bad. Including how you pulled the plug on your marriage too quickly. There should have been counseling and compromises. But you had reacted impulsively and he hadn’t fought you. So you had just…thought he agreed. That your marriage wasn’t worth saving after all.

Holding you close for another moment, Tim pulls away. Refusing to take advantage of your emotional vulnerability. “I picked up some clothes for you today.” He murmurs softly.

“You didn’t have to do that.” The day after the attack you had managed to get yourself to Target with the help of an emergency appointment with your therapist, and have been working off those supplies for weeks now.

“I know, but I thought it would be nice for you to have some of your things.” He’s not going to mention that he had the crime scene clean up crew in. It would be okay for you to go home but he doesn’t want you to.

“Thank you.” It’s almost painful to have him move away, but you can’t tell how much of it is grief, how much of it is missing him, and how much of it is gratitude. “Dinner’s almost ready…I had it all set up so you could work late if you need to…I just need to cook off the spaghetti and melt some cheese over the chicken.”

“Thank you.” You’ve been so understanding if he had to work late, probably because he’s working on your sister’s case, but he has news for you. “Sit down for a minute please, I want to talk to you.”

“Is everything okay?” It can’t be. Not if he has that serious tone. But you swallow hard and try not to catastrophize what it could be — that won’t help a single bit. All you can do is sink into a chair with wobbly knees and try not to fear the worst. That the man who killed your sister has gotten away. Or even killed again.

Tim kneels down in front of you again, taking your hands in his. “This afternoon, I arrested the man who murdered your sister.” He tells you softly. “He confessed. There’s no way he’s getting away with it.”

“He—he confessed?” The way you had been prepared for a fight. To have to look the man in the eyes in a court of law and make him admit it or worse. If he actually went free? The absolute terror in your heart that has been clutching into your soul with a merciless grip just slips, and with it comes the outpouring of tears that you’ve been holding back for weeks.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby.” You rock forward in a sob and he catches you in his arms, holding you close while you cry in rage, grief and absolute sorrow for the sister that has been taken from you and the life you have lost. “We have him, baby. It doesn’t bring her back, but he’s going to rot in jail for what he’s done.”

Without any concept of how long you cry for, all you know is that Tim stays there — crouched with his bad knees and his worse back — in front of you and holds you the whole time. He’s been the calm against the storm for this entire tragedy. He’s been a rock in the stormiest sea you’ve ever encountered, and you couldn’t be more grateful for the way he’s handled everything. By the time you finish crying, you’re shaking in his arms and really almost collapsed into him. It would be embarrassing if it weren’t the only other person in the world who means this much to you.

You are exhausted by the time you’ve stopped crying. Your eyes are puffy and your nose stuffed up but you are still the most gorgeous creature he’s ever seen. You sit back in your chair and he pats your knee. “Let me make you some tea, sweetheart. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

“I’m okay,” you promise him, despite that clearly not being the truth. You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck even and though you tried so hard to make him a nice dinner — you’re just exhausted.

“I know you are.” Tim murmurs softly, moving over to the kettle and bringing it to the sink to fill with water. It was one you had left, unused until you came back since he lived off coffee and cigarettes, the occasional take away Chinese. “You are a strong woman. But I know what you are going through. I see it everyday, sweetheart.”

“I was so unfair to you.” The regret in your voice is palpable. The sadness and the resignation. Knowing that if you had bent just a little instead of thinking you had to be strong as stone and simply end things, you might have been able to break through and realize that this is what Tim deals with on a daily basis.

“I kept all of this from you.” Tim reminds you. He had bottled up all his emotions towards the job, never letting you see the toll it takes on him. Never letting you understand why he was so driven to solve the case. He had witnessed too many people crying for their loved ones. Had too many mothers and wives, sisters and lovers collapse into his arms sobbing. He moves over to the stove and sets the kettle to boil, turning on the water in the pot beside it for the spaghetti. “I didn’t want it to touch you.”

“I’m so sorry, Tim.” From your place hunched over at the dining room table where you shared so many meals together, your head drops to hang between your shoulder blades.

“Hey…hey…” he moves back over, his hands on your shoulders instantly, squeezing gently. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He promises you. “Nothing. It was me.”

“We should have tried counseling. Or just talking more.” When he comes up in back of your chair you lean back instantly to be closer to him. “I’ve always hated myself for just leaving.”

“You weren’t happy.” Tim reminds you. “I didn’t make it easy for you when we were married, so when you said you wanted a divorce…I just— I gave you what you wanted.” He admits quietly. “I didn’t have the right to beg you for another chance, for anything really.” He had to talk to a therapist after he had killed a man right after the divorce, it was standard police protocol to be released back on the force, but he had worked through a lot of his issues. “I- compartmentalized when we were together, but I had a hard time decompressing. Putting work aside. You deserved so much more, but I just couldn’t give it to you then. I was trying to get those poor victims families some peace. To let the victims rest.”

“And I should have realized how much good you do for those families. For—” A shaky, shallow breath cracks out of you. “For the victims.” For people just like your sister. “And then the second it suits me I come back in and take advantage of the thing that I said I hated?” Shaking your head, you honestly can’t understand why he even bothers with you. He should have just told you to get a hotel room, and instead he’s been sharing his bed with you and fetching your clothes from your house. “I—I’m just so fucking sorry, honey.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He repeats softly, his fingers brushing your neck, feeling your pulse jump and he knows that it’s not the time or the place, but he can’t help himself. “I would do anything for you, sweetheart.” He admits. “I love you.”

Even though the pronounced frown on your face is from the situation and your tears and not from him, it feels like it deepens when your eyes widen and you turn around to face him again. “You mean you used to.” You correct carefully, trying to understand.

His heart aches at the displeasure in your face, aware that you wouldn’t want him to love you anymore. Still, he shakes his head. “No, I mean I still love you.” He confesses. “Never stopped, not even when you left.” He holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m not trying to convince you of anything. But babe, I’m here for you because I love you, and you needed someone who cares about you.”

"You don't have to convince me of anything." The corners of your mouth turn up like a confession of your own, although you're still not entirely sure that you can even wrap your mind around what he's laying out in front of you. "What's the quote? If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours."

“I knew your address.” He’s not done laying everything out. Rolling his eyes at himself and tilting his head. “Slight misuse of resources. But when that call came over the radio, I think I stopped breathing. I know my heart stopped.” He shakes his head. “All I could think was that I had lost you, and you weren’t even mine anymore. But as long as you were safe and happy out in the world, I was okay.” His voice cracks slightly. “Thinking the worst….” He shakes his head again. “I feel so fucking guilty because of how happy I was that it wasn’t you.”

"That...would explain why your young Detective Fallon was curious about our relationship." The question while you gave your statement -- a perfunctory measure since you didn't really see anything but it was a crime in your home with your sister as the victim so you needed to be eliminated as a suspect -- had surprised you but you had answered it honestly and moved on. "He thinks the world of you, by the way." Swallowing thickly, you push yourself to your feet to actually look Tim in the eyes. "And so do I."

“You feel appreciative of me helping you.” Tim doesn’t want to hope, and the look in your eyes gave him doing exactly that. “I don’t want to ever take advantage of you, sweetheart.”

"Baby..." As free as Tim has been with terms of endearment, you have been more guarded. Making sure that what you've been feeling wasn't powered by grief or the fear of being alone. But...it's Tim. This man is still your husband in your heart, even if not on paper. "I didn't leave because I stopped loving you. I never stopped loving you."

He stares at you for a moment, weighing your words and he closes his eyes in acceptance. His hands drift down to his hips and he swallows. “What do you want to do, sweetheart?” He asks softly.

“I don’t know.” You admit quietly, wanting to take another step closer but afraid to move a muscle. “But I know I don’t want to walk away from you again.”

“I had the clean up crew come through your place.” He murmurs softly. “You can rent it, sell it, burn it to the ground.” He huffs, “but don’t tell me about that one. I’d have to arrest you.”

“I’ve already decided to sell it.” Even thinking that Tim was only being nice because of what happened a few weeks ago, you hadn’t known that part of your hesitancy to leave this house was going back there. Even if he wanted you gone, you were finding someplace new.

“I think that’s a good idea.” He knows you will have to wait if you bought it with your sister. Her estate would have to be settled, but you can always stay here. Even if you don’t want to live here permanently again. “We can arrange for packers to come? So you don’t have to be there?”

“It shouldn’t be hard for me to find a place.” Even though you don’t want to. Even though you just want to stay here with Tim in the house you should have been living in for years. “I’m sure you don’t want me taking up your space. Even if you—if we—”

“Stay.” Tim interrupts you immediately. “Please. I want you to stay.” He gives you a small smile. “This is your house too. Always has been. Just- the joy left it when you moved out and I want it back.”

“I want to stay.” And admitting that out loud feels like you could collapse again but this time with sheer relief.

Tim steps closer to you, his arms coming around you again and he kisses your forehead once more. “Then stay, baby.” He whispers lovingly. “You never have to leave.”

However much you might have grown in the time you were apart, or what you might have discovered about yourselves, you’re still standing here in the kitchen of the house you picked out together. With your arms around each other. And with the gratitude that life is still allowed to have bright spots in the inky black darkness. “I missed you, love.”

“I missed you too.” A case had brought you back into his life, a horrible one, but it had allowed you both to compromise. To yield just enough to be able to come back together again. Detective Tim Rockford wouldn’t make the mistake of overlooking important clue to your feelings this time.

______

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[yannaryartside]

Sydney is also trapped in the freeze response.

She is permanently on the brakes. Like Rooster in Top Gun

Let me explain. (Spoilers for top gun maverick)

The character arc of Rooster in the movie revolves around the fact that he is always stuck on “defensive, preventive flying” in the sense that he lacks the initiative to make the risky decisions that are necessary in combat scenarios. The root of this issue is obviously fear, because his father died on someone else’s choices, and he doesn’t want to make a decision that could cost someone’s life.

I am starting to think Syd may have the same issue. I was reading a post about Sydney’s inability to make a decision on the partnership agreement (I can’t remember now I will tag it if I find it).

But the op expressed very well how Sydney has basically been offered the opportunity she has always dreamed of (Shapiro's offer was better but came in later). Still, she postponed the decision while she played the resistance game the whole season against Carmy’s antics. It's like a boxer trying to fight the distance. The conversation she had with Luca in the last episode about “a friend you went through a battle with” seems to connect with this idea. Then, in the end, she has a panic attack and thinks about the people she cares for at the Bear, how they have grown, and the battles they have endured.

I am going to say something that may be controversial: I think Syd has not grown significantly since she came to the Bear. Or, to put it in another way, she has not reached the version of herself that can make it in this industry on her own. The version that could conquer the obstacles of the plot that are designed to change her. There is a reason we don’t see a new version of her in comparison to when she came to the Bear for her first day.

She has taken on new responsibilities and has conquered them. But I believe she has not shown us anything that was not already inside her. She did not change like Richie (that went from unreliable to indispensable and caring, specially with her) or Nat that accepted the restaurant being a good thing for her family and herself, or even Fak, Marcus and Tina, that once thought of themselves incapable of the things they have accomplished.

Whatever beliefs Sydney has about herself that pull the ultimate brakes for redefining herself, she still has them.

She is and has been for a long while a patient, honest person that extends grace to others. And because they were given accountability, support and understanding, people around her were able to grow. That is what the flashback is about. She made a difference. She built something, and yet, nothing seems to feel solid for her.

I wonder what all of this could mean

The brakes analogy

There is plenty of analogies about driving in the show. We have Donna crashing her car on her family’s home, the dream of Cicero about driving out of control and crashing with Carmy’s dad in it (there is something there). Claire's reckless driving, the mentions of her being an adrenaline junkie in some aspects (she used to shoplifting, her job). Like a comparison to people that live life like reckless driving (addiction and other issues).

Meanwhile, Syd was a professional driver. She has a tattoo of her mothers car in her back. She described what “crashed” her business as “going too far, too fast” She even drives Richie because he got his license suspended (reckless behavior). Sydney is perceived as reasonable, mesaaured and reliablee. A good driver (metaphoricaly), but…

Is the show trying to tell us that she is a person who may have a hand in the brakes too often, in the sense that she may freeze in a moment when acceleration is required? In creative careers, you often have to take risks, and you will fail most of them, but what is she a fraud to lose this time? What has she been afraid to lose this whole time?

She even acts like “the brakes” of the plot in moments of chaos. She asked Tina to slow down and completed her task on Doors, and does her own, putting the pace of the kitchen in a “under the speed limit”

She makes Carmy slow down and stop his spiraling thoughts. Yeah, she is the brakes if the car, but she applies them too much on herself. Hope that makes sense.

[pedroshotwifey]

To the Flame Chapter 4

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Word count: 2.3k

Chapter tags/warnings: angst, family arguments, mentions of sex, some fluff, shit getting real

Chapter summary: You wake up with Javi and realize you made a mistake...you woke up with Javi.

A/N: Hey babes!! Thank you for being so kind and patient with me! I promise I see each and every one of you who leave likes, comments, and reblogs on my fics, and I can't thank you enough for your support. It means the world to me! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

***

“Sweetheart, wake up.” 

You squint your closed eyes as you register a faint, but familiar, voice accompanied by a gentle hand rubbing slowly up and down your upper arm. You also recognise the feel of a body beneath yours, an equally familiar feeling.

Humming contentedly, you tuck yourself back onto Javi’s warm chest, feeling his arms tighten around you in return. A chaste kiss is pressed to the side of your head. The panic doesn’t even come until you register that it’s lighter outside than it should be. 

You prop yourself up as quickly as you can as a sense of dread consumes your body. It’s light outside. It’s morning. You slept in a field in the back of Javi’s truck when you told your parents that you would be home by 11:00pm the night before. They hadn’t even wanted you to go in the first place, which pissed you off because you’re a whole ass adult, but that didn’t mean you were going to purposely make them worry. 

Now you’re going to have to go home and get chewed out by your angry parents. At least they hadn’t been nosy enough to try to figure out where you were going, you’d be in some deep shit then. A pang of guilt joins the dread as you think about how much they would both disapprove of you hanging out with Javi, a man who was probably twice your age. You still haven’t asked him exactly how old he is, but you have your guesses. 

You whip around to see the man in question looking at you with a perplexed expression, obviously confused by your sudden energy. You don’t even have the mind to apologize as you begin collecting the things spread around in the bed of the truck to put yourself together. You push the sleeves of your dress up all the way and tug on your shoes. 

“I need to get home,” you tell him frantically, already hopping off of the truck and into the tall, dewy grass. You turn around to face him and see that he hasn’t moved to follow you. 

“Javi, please, I wasn’t supposed to stay out last night,” you try to keep from whining, but you need to get the point across. He furrows his brows but starts to sit up. 

“Well I wish you would have told me, I wouldn’t have let you fall asleep, sweetheart,” Javi says as he jumps out behind you, dragging the blanket out with him. 

You hum a little in affirmation, though you’re already distracted with opening the door to the cab and hopping in. You feel bad to have sprung this on him after he took the time to plan such a nice date out and hold you through the night, but you feel worse that your parents are probably worried sick right now. You’ll be a little surprised if they haven’t called the cops yet. 

Javi gets into the truck a second after you do, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he starts it up. He looks at you and you share a heavy stare. It makes you want to beam at him. The fact that he’s in the truck and willing to take you home, no questions asked and no hard feelings. 

The poor guy isn’t even fully awake yet, and he’s already having to deal with your shit. He doesn’t seem to mind at all, and the smirk he flashes your way says as much. It might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen, to be honest. You never though bed head could look so good on a person before. 

 Despite your anxiety right now, it makes butterflies stir in your stomach. Your cheeks start to pink after a moment as you recall last night. You had sex with Javi. As if the soreness of your cunt wasn’t enough of a reminder. And you’re his. You’re his girl. He’s yours.

“Sorry I didn’t say anything, I really didn’t think I was going to fall asleep,” you blurt, trying to find a different headspace so you don’t jump his bones and make yourself even more late. 

“It’s okay, honey. I should have asked if you needed to be home at a certain time.” 

You both smile lightly at each other before Javi puts the truck into first gear and begins to turn around. He rolls the windows down just enough to let a nice breeze in, and puts the radio on low as you make your way back down the path you took last night. 

You sit in a comfortable silence as you gaze out the window. The sun is up just enough to cast everything in a warm golden glow and reflect off of the morning dew still lingering from the night before. Birds are starting to chirp and there aren’t many people on the road. It’s a peaceful morning, and you can’t help but lean back and take a big sigh to appreciate it despite the ball of unease in your stomach. 

Javi glances your way as you rest your head back and let your eyes drop closedd, and extends his hand to rest reassuringly on your thigh. You smile and take it with your own, giving a small squeeze. 

“It’ll be okay, sweetheart.”

You nod, trying to believe that yourself.

“I hope so,” you tell him truthfully. 

Now it’s his turn to nod as he focuses back on the empty road. A song by Waylon Jennings comes on and you reach to turn it up just a little bit. Before long, you can’t help it, and allow yourself to sing along. Javi casts you a glance, smiling widely at your shenanigans. You can’t help but to smile back. Might as well enjoy your last ten minutes of freedom before your parents chain you to the floor. 

A couple of songs later, you're pulling into your driveway just enough for you to get out without Javi’s truck being seen. You had told him that it’s probably safest that way. Unless he wants to come face to face with your father’s shotgun. The first thing you notice is that there’s no cops around, so at least your parents didn’t go that far. 

You refreshed as much as you could in the truck, trying to smooth your hair down and re-adjust  your dress so you at the very least didn’t look like you just got fucked within an inch of your life the night before. 

Javi puts the truck in park and leans your way for you to meet him and plant a short kiss on his lips. You hum against him, savoring the plushness of his lips. You already miss the feeling even though you haven’t left yet.

“Thank you again for everything, Javi,” you tell him as you separate, wishing you didn’t have to go.

“Anytime for you, sweetheart,” he responds smoothly and flashes you a wink. Yeah, the smug bastard winks at you. 

Clearing your throat and trying to keep from melting to a puddle on the floorboards, you open up the door and slide out until your feet hit the rocks beneath you. 

“Call me later?” Javi cranes his neck slightly to ask as you’re shutting it behind you. 

“Sir, yes, sir,” you stand and salute with the most serious expression you can muster. He smiles and rolls his eyes playfully, reaching over to tug the door shut when you step back. 

“See you soon, bebita,” he says through the open window. 

“See you, Javi.”

A stupid grin stays slapped on your face as he backs out and drives off, leaving you with a delightful buzzing sensation spreading throughout your body. God, you’re so fucked. You wish you could just stay with him and not have to worry about people getting pissed. Why can’t your parents just not be overbearing for once? 

You never liked your curfew as a teen, but you’d understood it. But You’re fully grown now, and even though you’re living with them again, you don’t think they should be allowed to implement one at all. 

You huff and turn to walk up to the house, trying not to come in looking as guilty as you should. You’re not dumb enough to hope that your parents are still asleep. Even though it’s the weekend, they were probably up hours ago to start work around the farm. 

The main door is open, as you expected. You take a deep breath and pull open the screen door, which creaks loud enough to let everyone in the house—and quite possibly the entire state of Texas—that you’re home. You wince as you step inside.

You turn towards the kitchen as the door smacks shut against the frame behind you, but you’re stopped dead in your tracks when you see the pile of stuff stacked in the living room doorway. Your stuff. Your heart drops as you take in your suitcases and a few boxes all shoved into a pile by the entryway. 

Your body starts to shake as you fight the urge to pinch yourself. This isn’t happening. 

“You have until the end of the day to be out of here,” comes a voice from behind you. 

You turn on your heel, coming face to face with your mother and father walking out of the kitchen through the tears in your eyes. Your mom is drying her hands with a dish towel, and your father has a folded newspaper in his hand. They look like they would any other morning, but the pure anger and disgust on both of their faces contradicts that. 

It feels like someone grabbed your heart from your chest and slammed it on the ground to let it shatter into a million pieces. Never in your life would you ever have thought your own parents would look at you with such hatred in their eyes. 

“I-what-what’s going on? I-?” you stamper, your throat dry as you try to figure out where to start your questions. A tear slips down your cheek but you can’t find it in you to be embarrassed. 

“Got a call last night,” your mom says in a tone so laden in disappointment that it feels like a shank being sent into the center of your chest.. 

“Some man called to let us know that our daughter—our daughter—was whoring herself out last night.” 

Her voice is bitter but you can still see the mist that coats her own eyes even so. 

The shock on your face as you take a step back isn’t enough to prove your innocence. You’re guilty, they know you’re guilty. But how do they know? Who the fuck called them? You didn’t see a single other person last night aside from the car behind you when he was picking you up, and even then it would have been too dark to see what was going on.

“N-no, I–please,” you continue to struggle as you take a step toward them now, not sure of what to do with yourself. Are you supposed to deny it? Play dumb? Beg on your knees for forgiveness? You’re in disbelief, and for what may be the first time in your life, you’re lost. 

Even with your ex, you knew what your next plan of action was going to be each time he messed up. Even with that last straw, when you caught him with your best friend, you knew what you had to do. Not now. It feels like you’ll never have a clear enough head to know what to do now. 

“I don’t want a fucking explanation, I want you to get the fuck out of my house before I call the cops,” your father speaks up. You know deep inside that there’s no turning back now. Once he starts yelling, things are going to get a lot worse than they have to be, and you know he’s not going to change his mind. 

You spot a movement from above you through your blurry vision, and see your sister at the top of the stairs. You can’t see the look on her face, but it might be better not to know. You can handle it from your parents, but never from your baby sister. 

She’s looked up to you after all these years, the only one who never stopped believing in you. And you can’t help but feel like you failed her. You’re shaking uncontrollably, trying not to break down, but you can’t help it as she backs away and a choked sob leaves your lips. 

You call after her, but your dad shuts that down. 

“Don’t you fucking talk to her.” The slight raise in his voice makes you flinch. You want to scream, you want to fight, you want to believe that this is all a nightmare. But you don’t, and you know it’s not. You did this, now you have to live with the consequences. 

“L-let me use the phone?” you manage to squeak out despite the fact that you feel like your skin is getting too tight for your body, and the world is closing in, and your intestines are tangling themselves into tight knots. There’s a crushing pressure encapsulating your brain, but you try to ignore it even as it gets worse. 

Your dad steps aside, letting you in and then trailing behind you until you pick up the phone with a lump in your throat. You dial up the number you’ve come to memorize, and wait for those usual three rings before you’re greeted by a familiar voice that almost crushes you. 

You hear your nickname, and a small part of you perks up at the sound, but it’s still not enough to overpower the nauseating feeling in the pit of your stomach. Sucking in a breath, you try not to start sobbing. That will have to wait until you’re safe in his arms. You know he’ll let you get it all out. 

You don’t have anywhere else to go, nobody else to call. Having to call him in front of your parents might be the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done, but you don’t even consider that fact though your shallow breaths and the light ringing in your ears. 

“Javi?” you croak, not waiting for him to confirm. You know it’s him. You can sense his presence even through the phone line. “Can you come pick me up?”

***

Thank you so much for reading! Please consider interacting if you enjoyed this fic! <3

Fic tag list:  @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy @survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @movievillainess721 @callachloe

[thepupperino]

Hiiii, Keely! It’s been a while since I’ve found myself in the inbox of my mutuals with a thoughtful question about our boys. However, we’re preparing for the hurricane down this way and I’m looking for something to keep me occupied — like talking to all of my beautiful lovely friends!!

So what I want to discuss today is the love language of our boys. What love language(s) do you think they each excel at and which one(s) do they struggle with the most? Do you think their love language(s) have changed since the beginning? Do you think they still excel or struggle with a certain one(s)?

I would also like to pick your brain on your thoughts of how they protect one another — how they protect one another physically, how they protect one another’s peace, how they protect each other mentally, etc! 🩵

— Much love, Chey

Hi I almost accidentally deleted this instead of answering and my life flashed before my eyes

Anyway THANK YOU for asking this was very fun 😈

So I feel like it’s pretty universally believed that Mickey’s a big acts of service guy, but…can I be honest? I know the man loves a grand gesture, but I think that’s different than acts of service. Honestly the grand gestures almost feel like gift giving to me? Plus I love believing that Mickey grabs a Kind bar for Ian every time he stops at a gas station. I don’t know, especially growing up poor, it changes the way you think about material possessions, and I think he’d want to give everything he can to Ian

I think Mickey probably struggles with words of affirmation—at least receiving it. Like he’s probably more comfortable with it now, but I think for a long time he felt weird about Ian saying nice things to him and was pretty dismissive of any compliments

I 100% believe Ian is a physical touch man—he’s ALWAYS touching Mickey (hand on knee my beloved). I think he just loves being close to him. Plus obviously their sex life has always been…fulfilling and Ian was down bad from the start so I think that plays into it

I also love thinking of him as a words of affirmation guy because I really latch onto the fact that he tested out of English so I KNOW he’s good with words and I know he writes the cutest, sweetest little cards for Mickey on his birthday or their anniversary

Hmm what does Ian struggle with…? Ironically I think he might be a little resistant to gift giving because I think he’s the saver in the relationship, so Mickey keeps getting him these little “I’m thinking of you” gifts and Ian’s like stressing about rent (but also he loves it because that’s his HUSBAND and he’s thinking about him 🥹)

And I don’t know if love languages have changed since the beginning per se, but they’ve obviously both become more comfortable with expressions of love throughout their relationship and I’m having a lot of feelings about that

PROTECTION?! Well physically they will literally kill for each other if push comes to shove I am very confident in that. For some reason I like to think that Ian always tries to walk closer to the road so Mickey won’t get hit if a car swerves or something and Mickey thinks he’s dumb but lets him do it anyway. And Mickey wants to be facing the door on dates and stuff so he can size people up and assess any threats

Protecting each other’s peace I think they’re both willing to be the bad guy if they need an out. Like if Ian just can’t handle being around his family for some reason, Mickey’s like “tell ‘em I’m not in the mood”

MENTALLY I have a lot of feelings 😭 obviously canonically Mickey is great with Ian’s bipolar (we pretend Hall of Shame doesn’t exist) and I think that continues and grows (“I gotta worry, you’re my husband” my beloved). I think he’s VERY aware of potential triggers and warning signs and I think he’s supportive AND gives Ian space when he needs it because he likes his autonomy and independence

I think Mickey has a lot of unresolved trauma and I’m not like his therapist or anything but I’d want to assess for PTSD and generally unhelpful cognitions, and I love the idea that he goes to therapy some day (honestly I’d love if they both did), but I think Ian is really good at holding space for him to share what he’s thinking about AND I think he’s eventually willing to do that

Anyway I hope that answered your questions and PLEASE feel free to send me more, I love thinking about them

[yougottalovebuckybarnes]

A/N: Hi everyone! After a LONG time, I have finally returned to writing! :) It has been a long journey for me offline, but I am proud to say that I have finally graduated from college! This fic is a little self-indulgent, but I thought it would be a good way to kick off my return to writing! I hope you enjoy!

-M <3

=======

Proud (Bucky x Reader)

========

My heart thudded heavily in my chest, my breathing short and shaky as the sound of cheering entered my ears. Bright lights flooded my vision as I exited the short tunnel into the stadium, but my vision adjusted quickly to find the rather large venue filled to the brim with people.

Friends, family, lovers….

Everyone was here to celebrate with us. And what a magnificent occasion it was. After a lengthy five years, I had finally reached the end of my college journey. The moment I had pressed submit on my final assignment for one of my required courses had been one of the most freeing ones of my whole life. The urge to both laugh and cry had hit me all at once, and I celebrated in quite an exciting manner with the love of my life.

Bucky. God, I loved that man more than he would ever know. To be quite honest, I did not know if I would have even reached the end of my program without his support. 5 am coffee runs, continuous attempts to make me laugh when my papers drove me to tears, encouraging texts on the days of my in person finals… his support was endless. I could not have ever wished for a more perfect partner.

The joy of finally completing college had slightly dimmed when Bucky had told me two weeks ago that he was scheduled to be out of the country on a mission the week of my commencement ceremony. The heartache in his eyes nearly saddened me more than the fact that he wouldn’t be there at all. He had truly wanted to be there as much as I did. That warmed my heart just as much as him being there.

But still, my heart remained hopeful. My eyes carefully scanned the overwhelming number of people in the confined space, trying to identify the man that I loved amongst them. But my hope slowly depleted as the seconds passed by, unable to find him. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I found my seat, waiting patiently as the ceremony began.

My nerves as I walked across the stage to accept my diploma turned into happiness, finally having accomplished one of the hardest adventures of my life. My next steps post graduation were uncertain, but there was no need to worry about that for now. The only thing I knew was that I would have Bucky by my side. There was no need to worry about the future with that in mind.

Following a few last parting words from our university’s president, we were released from the stadium. With a few parting goodbyes to my close friends, I emerged from the tunnel to where the crowd waited to greet their graduates. I watched with a small smile as all my peers met with their families, the sound of laughter and the sight of smiles filling the space. With one last look, I turned to make my way back to my car to make my drive home. But the feeling of arms around my waist caused me to stop, my heart nearly stopping in my chest as I heard an all too familiar chuckle from behind me.

“You weren’t really going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?” Becky’s voice was soft but raspy in my ear, and a smile grew across my lips before I turned around.

I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, letting out a watery laugh as I embraced him tightly. “I can’t believe you made it.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, doll.” Bucky mused softly, kissing the top of my head. “I also threatened to kick Sam’s ass if he didn’t get us back in time.”

“You’re too mean to him, you know.” I shake my head with a grin, pulling back to look at him fully. “But just this once, I’m glad you added a little pressure. I’m so happy to see you.”

“’m so happy that I made it back in time.” Bucky cupped my face gently in his hands, his smile bright as he gazed down at me. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You did it!”

“I did it.” I repeated softly, my eyes pricking with tears slightly at his words. “I did it.”

Bucky leaned in to kiss me, just a gentle brush of his lips against mine before pulling away, letting his forehead rest against mine. “Let’s go celebrate you properly, shall we?”

“What did you have in mind?” I inquired with a laugh, taking his hand in mine as we walked towards my car to make our journey to wherever our next destination would be.

“ Just you wait, Y/N.” Bucky chuckled, kissing the side of my head. “It’s a surprise worthy of a college graduate. “

—-

A/N: i know, that ending was ass. I’m sorry😭

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

How would the gang react to a m!soc reader that honest to god courts Pony?? Like, the whole package.

I know it’s not very realistic considering their time period, but let’s just say that m!soc isn’t very up to date on the way most Tulsa teens date. Instead of calling Pony or taking him out to the movies, m!soc does things like writing Pony literal pages of heartfelt letters, kissing Pony’s hand, buying Pony lots of genuinely thought-out gifts, etc.

M!soc comes from a very traditional and Catholic family - but despite his upbringing, m!soc constantly reassures Pony he is not ashamed of their relationship and wants to give Pony the absolute world. He says the most poetic shit abt Pony’s personality and looks and sees genuine beauty in Pony’s life, even though it’s so different from his

M!soc is lowkey a rlly quiet and sullen person. If resting sad face was a thing, he’d have it and it’d be absolutely heartbreaking. The way he looks at Pony is the way jewelers handle a diamond- with pure admiration, unadulterated care and painful consideration. M!soc knows that within seconds he could give Pony anything and everything, but he knows Pony hates charity and he completely respects it, never daring to cross any of Pony’s boundaries in case he loses the one good thing he knows

Sure pookie I love this

Gang Reacts to Pony with M!Conservative!Down Bad! Soc

Ponyboy Curtis

-he’s so flattered he doesn’t really know what to do

-feels like he doesn’t deserve the attention

-he keeps all the gifts and feels like he’s in a story

-like you’re the Romeo to his Juliet my man

-I mean he literally feels like he’s in a fairytale

-and has never met anyone who can make him feel like that

-he loves it so much and loves you back too

-he admires you so much and doesn’t judge you for being a Soc

-loves everything about you, your soft sullen eyes

-your thoughtful heart

-you both go on the most fantastic well thought out dates

-he feels like he isn’t good enough for you and needs constant reassurance

Johnny Cade

-he really likes you

-he thinks you’re amazing for Pony

-he looks upon the piles and piles of gifts in awe and wonder

Sodapop Curtis

-it’s hard for him to wrap his mind around the fact you actually exist

-you just seem so.. almost mystical

-with your eyes and wallets and old fashioned behavior

-he is kinda playful skeptical of your relationship at first

-but grows more comfortable with you over time when he sees you happy you make Ponyboy

-and how heartfelt you are

Darry Curtis

-doesn’t like you one bit at first

-judges you for being a Soc

-which

-slowly starts to change when he sees how amazingly seem to improve pony’s mood

-he gets into fights with him less, even

-he’s really happy that pony has someone like you

-lowkey asks you to pay for pony’s college 😭

Dallas Winston

-he doesn’t know how the shit pony got so lucky

-he finds you a bit off at first but I mean hey

-Pony’s got himself a sugar daddy/j he would say that tho 💀

Two Bit Mathews

-he is actually so happy and supportive

-he makes teasing quips about how pony’s lover is stuck in the 19th century

-but that’s about it

-genuinely gets excited whenever pony talks about you

Steve Randle

-he definitely teases Pony about it

-eh fuck it he can be happy for sodapops kid brother just this once

-he does secretly really ship you both

-he and soda both talk about how cute you both are together

[writing-rat]

Tattoo Talks

Pairings: Sammy x Joey

Content: Fluff, talk of tattoos, Joey needs a hug

Summary: Joey asks about Sammy's tattoos when she is on lunch break. Sammy is happy to tell.

WC: 970

It had been months after both the girls survived Abigail’s rampage and both were as scarred as each other so they were living together, Caleb also being with them. Caleb was close to his mom once again and his new step-mom too. It was a family come true… plus he liked her tattoos. The women were currently doing their own thing. Joey was looking for jobs, but she was struggling immensely due to the fact that she was discharged for stealing drugs from the military. Sammy meanwhile had managed to get a job as a software designer and an ethical hacker too, making sure that companies were safe from potential hacks. Sammy was happy paying for the rent and everything but Joey also wanted to be independent, Sammy knew that. She was nothing but supportive of her girlfriend. 

After an hour, Joey closed the computer lid gently before punching the counter. “What did we say about punching walls or counters?” Sammy immediately called into the kitchen from the living room that was connected. 

“Not to do it, sorry baby,” Joey called back apologetically. She was ashamed she let her anger get to her. 

“It’s ok. Just take a breather,” Sammy replied. 

“Want a cup of coffee?” Joey asked, peeking into the living room where Sammy was. She was wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a tank top that definitely belonged to Joey. 

“Yes please, you know how I like it,” Sammy responded with a smile and looked at her wife. Joey nodded as she went back into the kitchen to make it.

5 minutes later she was out and sat down next to Sammy, who started to yawn and saved her code. It was nearly lunchtime at least for Sammy, having her break at 12 and it was currently 11:56. “You’ll get a job soon baby, I know it,” Sammy spoke quietly. “For now you can be a good housewife,” she joked. Joey couldn’t help but laugh as she kissed the blonde and leaned into her, focusing on her tattoos again. 

“I am not meant to be a housewife,” Joey chuckled. “Plus you clean more than me,” she added with a grin. Sammy nodded as she leaned back and wrapped an arm around the mother. 

“That’s true. Very true. I love you, babe,” Sammy responded. 

“I love you too,” Joey spoke before kissing the woman. The younger woman kissed back immediately as she smiled. That was when Joey couldn’t help but ask something. 

“Can you explain your tattoos to me? We aren’t on the job after all now,” Joey teased. 

“Very true. Glad you asked,” Sammy grinned. She hoped Joey would ask eventually and she did. She had seen the MILF stare at them a lot. “The dragon is a representation of the anger inside me. Especially when I’m on my period as you know. When I look at it, I calm down immensely,” Sammy spoke, showing the dragon off. Joey was listening intently and staring at the tattoos she talked about. “My hand tattoos that say Fuck Mom was done when I was annoyed at my family. I still am but the bond is regrowing now. I just need to hide my hands when we meet,” Sammy joked. Ever since the incident with Abigail, Sammy had been trying to talk to her parents, and try and be a good child. It was going well so far. Sammy soon pointed to the hearts on her shoulder. “These are for the 2 pet cats I lost. All died of old age,” she spoke. Joey just nodded, patting her shoulder.

After a quick break of 4 minutes, both drinking their coffee, Sammy continued. She pointed to the alien. “The alien one was when I was 18 and believed in aliens. I still do, to be honest,” Sammy chuckled. “The spider is for me being able to beat my fear of them. I used to panic but now they’re friends,” she grinned. She was still proud of herself. “This cross from a bet. It was a stupid bet but we don’t care about that,” Sammy laughed. Joey grinned. 

“Think of it as a commemoration for living a vampire,” Joey offered. Sammy clicked her fingers. 

“I love that idea,” she spoke and kissed Joey. “It’ll be that now.” She pointed to the face with barbed wire for teeth (or Joey assumed). “This was my first tattoo my friend did. We just did it when I was high and yeah…” Sammy explained ashamed. Joey shrugged. 

“It has a cool design,” Joey complimented it. 

“Thank you,” Sammy spoke happily. She then lifted her arm, showing the one that was a ball from snooker or bingo and it had the number 8. “8 is my lucky number as you know, and I like playing snooker so it was perfect,” she explained. She pointed to the back of her shoulder. “There I have a tree tattoo. I am continuously growing in different ways, just like a tree,” she spoke. That was all the tattoos she had now. 

“Do you plan on getting more? One arm looks very empty after all,” Joey joked. Sammy laughed and nodded. 

“I was thinking of getting a sun one. Gives a new meaning to life, especially after Abigail,” Sammy explained. Joey nodded. “And I was wondering if we could get a matching one, you and me. Stakes that say each other name,” Sammy explained. Joey was shocked before she nodded. 

“We can do that,” Joey spoke. She didn’t have any tattoos but she would get one for Sammy, she would do anything for her. As the lunch break for Sammy went on, the 2 continued to talk about whatever, mostly the matching tattoo. 

Both were still alive, and they would commemorate a tattoo of it. They had to, it was fate.

[skulljackxiii]

GrojBand Comeback Tour - Kin Kujira

Support me over at Patreon: www.patreon.com/skulljackxiii

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

Note: When looking back at the show and remembering what Kin was like, he didn't feel that much different than his brother, but I guess that was part of why they got along so well. Anyways I thought that in this version, he plays more in his role as a genius, where he's more dedicated and prideful towards his intellect. Of course I'm still keeping him as a weird and hyper personal so that he easily goes along Corey's and his brother's antics, but he flips a switch when it comes to his projects. Let's say that something goes wrong with one of his inventions or if something offends his knowledge, he would be go on a tirade and start cursing left and right when he's alone, though comedically he would immediately calm down in front of his friends as if nothing happened. He never directly goes off or shown to have any kind of hostility towards anyone, but there is only one exception, Kim. Whenever Kin sees Kim, they both can't help themselves but get hostile and have this kind of pissing contest against one another to see who was more smart. Kin doesn't exactly know why he's so honest when it comes to Kim or how she gets on his nerves so quickly and the same could be said about her as well, the only one that seems to get a clue is Konnie.)

Role: Kin is one of the key members of Grojband, taking the many vital roles as the band's keyboardist, audio technician, and remixer; many of the final music productions is almost entirely relied on him. Along side that, with his knowledge of science and machines, he's also relied as the band's auto-mechanic for the maintenance and repairs for their tour bus.

Bio: Kin lived in Japan most of his life with her brother Kon and the rest of the Kujira Family, along with another named the Kagami Family. Parents of both families were inseparable friends who spent many years together, thus he and his brother grew up knowing the children of the other family, Kim and Konnie. Kin was fond with Konnie and treated her like family, but for he couldn't quite get along with Kim. Whenever he saw her, he would start to flare up and butt heads with her over every little thing, especially when it came to academics. This is because unlike Kim, Kin was not born as a prodigy, in fact he did quite poorly in school to a point where at times even his brother would have better grades than him. It bothers him at times, especially when he compares himself to a natural born genius like Kim, but that didn't discourage him from improving his mind. Kin has always prided himself with learning and especially towards things he didn't know or quite understood.

For years, he constantly studied, analyzed, and improved all his effort in order to surpass Kim and show that his hard work could overtake her natural born talent; though she didn't make it easy and would gloat whenever she came out on top. As this continued, Kin would only grow from all his failures until one day he finally did it and beat Kim in a subject, that being music. His hard work paid off and since then both him and her would go back and forth trying to out due the other in all kinds of fields. Despite whatever awards or recognition either one gained from their rivalry, they didn't pay heed as they solely focused on one thing, each other. 

One day, his parents were informed to be transferred overseas for work, so the Kujira Family, along with the Kagami Family, moved to America. With his weird personality, it didn't take long for Kin to get along with people in his first couple of days. He was quite the busybody as so many people tried to get him into so many after school clubs and communities due to his dedication and intelligence. But the one that finally got him was actually a band from his brother's classmate, Corey Riffin. Kon wanted them to play music together since Kin already accumulated many music awards from being a ceremonial pianist and a composer. He was hesitant at first, but after hearing Kon out some more and finally meeting Corey, he was more than willing to join up.  After meeting Corey in person and hearing his dreams, his words resonated with Kin and made him really want to see what he'll do next.

[nereidprinc3ss]

i’ve been dying to talk about how jj is not at all evil and terrible as some people paint her out to be after the events of 14x15 truth or dare

and also why i adore her and will as a couple

and lari just reblogged pro will lamontagne content so i’m going to post this draft from when i was watching that episode before i forget to again. i cannot stand for anymore jj or will slander

warning i criticize spencer once dont doxx me please 🙏

ok listen i love jemily but i ADORE jj and will as a canon couple, they are so supportive of each other and im watching the aftermath of truth or dare and it is my belief that jj was completely honest with will about her feelings for spencer. i think she was confused by her own feelings toward spencer and was honest with will about that seeing as they had been together for like a decade or something by that point and had a family together. i think when jj confessed to reid that she loved him it was never with the intention of abandoning her kids and husband, they were half formed thoughts and feelings that she wasn’t even sure of herself. that’s why she couldn’t answer spencer when he asked if she meant it at dave’s wedding because she herself didn’t know. and when she’s shot in 15x1 and then in critical condition in 15x2 will says jj’ll want to see spencer when she wakes up. i think he knows everything that went down between her and spencer and was really supportive of her working through it because he knew at the end of the day she was not going to leave him. jj was never not going to choose will and her kids, and because of that was able to be honest with will about her feelings. i think will knows how special jj and spencer are to each other but wouldn’t actually see spencer as a threat to his marriage because he knows jj isn’t leaving him. she was truly in love with him, whereas she was more in love with the idea of spencer, or cared about him so deeply she confused it for romantic love.

i like this a lot more than the narrative that jj is a selfish bitch for being willing to give up her whole family because of spencer. i don’t think that was ever going to happen, i don’t think she was ever going to tell spencer she loved him, and she was never going to pick him. if she hadn’t been forced to she never would have brought up her complex and confusing feelings for him because they at the end of the day didn’t warrant a conversation. she picked her life, and it was with will. she literally told spencer she never intended to tell him about those feelings because it wouldn’t change anything. there was no reason to have done it until she was forced. jj is not selfish and she is not a bad wife!! in fact i think she is the opposite of selfish!! she’s not perfect but lets not hold her to that standard because remember when spencer reid choked out a pregnant woman? yeah so do i!! everybody makes mistakes 🩷

[ladykailitha]

Oh For a Muse of Fire! Epilogue

I want to thank everyone for the lovely support. I saw a couple questions about the other characters in the comment section of the last one and wanted to clear up a couple of things. Crystal=Argyle (he picked the name because he thought it sounded cool), Onyx=Dimitri (like @n0-1-important guessed in part 11). Diamond and his family were all OCs more on them here. Michelle (the whiny chick in the art class) is the only other OC. I tried as much as possible to include characters from the show when I could.

And to answer @ goodolefashionedloverboi‘s question: Jonathan and Nancy are in couple’s therapy and are doing better.

And then one final thing to explain (the curses of doing a WIP and posting it one at a time not every thread I put down got picked up again, oops!) is the garnet rings. I love gem stones and geology. It fascinates me so much so that I took it as an elective in high school. When I was researching a fic (don’t remember which one now) I was looking at Eddie’s rings. And a lot of people were making replicas with hard stones like hematite, onyx, or something that didn’t have cuts or facets. But Eddie’s ring sparkles. It’s clearly a gemstone. So I went looking up grey or black gemstones. I found a couple it could be but they weren’t discovered until the 90s (and while the ACTUAL stone the prop maker used could be that, I COULDN’T call it that). And then I found a grey garnet. It was a perfect match. It sparkles the way his does, the different shades it gets from the show, spot on. Hence the garnet.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12  Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17

*

Two years later:

Variety Interview with Corroded Coffin

Max Mayfield: Hello, can you guys introduce yourselves for the people that have been hiding under a rock for the last two years?

They all laugh.

Jeff: I’m Jeff Lawrence, I’m rhythm guitar.

Gareth: I’m Gareth Hughes, I’m on drums.

Brian: I’m Brian Martin, I’m the bass guitarist.

Eddie: And I’m Eddie Munson, frontman, lead guitar, lead vocalist, and songwriter.

MM: That’s a lot of titles for one person.

JL: That’s because he’s the most dramatic out of all of us. He has to have allll the titles. Can’t share with the rest of us.

EM: Hey!

They all laugh again.

BM: Hey, you know it’s true.

EM: Yeah...but you’re giving away all my secrets right off the bat. Can’t you save some for later in the interview.

The other three look at each other.

JL, BM, GH: No.

Eddie throws his arms in the air.

EM: I’m telling Steve!

The other three look mock frightened for all of three seconds before they start laughing at him.

JL: You know Steve would agree with us.

Eddie pouts

MM: Can you tell us who Steve is?

Eddie fiddles with the singular ring on his right hand, looking down, bashfully. It one that I haven’t seen. Everyone is familiar with the the three chunky rings on his left hand. But this one is on his ring finger. The grey stone flashes as he plays with it.  

EM: He’s the love of my life and my muse.

JL: He’s an art teacher back home.

BM: He’s our Eddie wrangler.

GH: He’s our band mascot.

I laugh.

MM: He sounds pretty special. How did you guys meet?

JL: We all went to high school together, actually.

MM: Oh, so were you high school sweethearts, then?

Eddie laughs.

GH: Yeah, no. He laughs.

BM: Let’s just say they started off on the wrong foot.

JL: The wrong everything, let’s be honest.

EM: Not my proudest moment. I was doing a favor for a family friend being a live model for an art class about five years later and assumed the worst about him.

MM: You mean there are actual art of you naked out there?

Eddie blushes.

EM: Several pieces in fact. But my favorite is Stevie’s. It’s still hanging up in our house in my studio.

GH: I’ve seen it. It’s not gross or anything.

JL: It won best in show at the art gala it was featured in.

BM: I think he’s totally wasted as an art teacher. He could be making more than we do selling his art work. But he loves working with kids.

MM: Sounds like the perfect guy.

EM: scoffs I love Steve, but he can be the most basic bitch. And he tends to be overprotective too.

GH: But we are here to talk about the new album.

MM: Fair enough. So tell me about working on Silent Killer. This is your second album, is that correct?

JL: Yeah, our self titled debut album just went double platinum. We knew going in it was going to be a tough act to follow.

GH: When we went platinum the first time, our manager Murray Bauman sent black flowers to all the record labels that passed on us.

EM: It was very suitably bitchy. It’s why he’s our manager.

MM: Certainly sounds like it. Do you guys deviate from your first album’s style in this one?

They look at each other and Eddie shrugs

EM: I mean, not really. It’s a more somber album to be sure. There was a song that we wanted to include on Corroded Coffin but decided it didn’t fit with the overall theme of the album that made its way on this one.

MM: Which song is that?

BM: Thorns and Thistles. It’s the song that got us our agent in the first place.

JL: Yeah. Murray was mad when the record label didn’t want to use it this time round. He fought tooth and nail to get on the album.

EM: Have you heard it yet?

I nod.

MM: Yeah. It’s beautifully heartbreaking. You say your label didn’t want to use it?

BM: They thought it was too sad.

JL: So to prove them wrong we sent it out as our first single, before we even started really working on the album.

MM: It had already gone gold before you announced the new record. That must have really got stuck in their craw.

EM: We’ve been laughing all the way to the bank.

MM: You guys won a Grammy for Song of the Year for The Jester and the King and Best New Artist. How was that for you?

BM: God I don’t know which of us bawled more on that stage. But it was everything we hoped for.

JL: Winning Song of the Year was a life changer. But no one thought we were going to win Best New Artist.

MM: No?

Eddie shakes his head.

EM: It rarely goes to a rock artist, especially a metal one. Everyone thought it would go to the kid...what’s his name...? He snaps his fingers.

JL: JJ Jenner.

EM: That’s the one. Fifteen year old kid with the pipes of an angel. Everyone, including us thought it would be him.

MM: Oh, I remember now, they put the kid’s reaction to losing on the jumbotron or whatever they call their big screen.

GH: I almost felt sorry for him.

Eddie grins.

EM: Almost.

MM: When you do red carpet events, Eddie, you bring your two lesbian friends with you, while the rest of the band brings their partners. Is there a reason you don’t bring yours? Especially since I learned your partner’s name is Steve.

All the members of the band shift uncomfortably in their seats, stealing glances at each as they silently decide who is going to answer the question.

MM: Oh. I feel like I stepped on a sensitive topic. I didn’t mean to.

Gareth clears his throat.

GH: Steve’s privacy is very important to us. There are times he would like to go to these things with Eddie...

JL: But he still gets attacks and can’t. He looks down at his hands. So he goes with the girls dress shopping and helps pick out their outfits for the night.

Eddie looks like he’s going to tear up.

EM: We’re working on it. He knew going to our relationship that this might become an issue but I always do what I can to make it up to him the moment I get home.

They all look somber, so I decide to change the direction of the interview.

MM: What’s next for the Corroded Coffin boys?

They brighten up almost immediately.

BM: Touring. We’ve got an American tour this spring and then a European tour this summer.

MM: Is there a reason you decided to wait on the European tour until summer?

Eddie blushes and the rest of the band nudge him playfully.

EM: It’s so Steve can come with us. He can’t leave during the school year, but he likes touring with us when it’s out for summer break.

MM: Ah ha.

The conversation turns to non-band related things again and I watch how close they are. It’s great to see a band that are still friends after years of playing together. Even though they’ve only been big for two years, they have been playing for twelve.

Let’s hope that they stay that way for the next twenty.

-Max Mayfield

The Final Tag List: @artiststarme @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @itsall-taken @m-owo-n @zerokrox-blog @runyousillydetective @grimmfitzz @wonderland-girl143-blog @sapphirecobalt-1 @scheodingers-muppet @victor-thee-corvid @apricottree @bookbinderbitch @sleepyboosstuff @biatcgh @pixiefallingupthestairs @grtwdsmwhr @thepainisspicy @carlyv @eboyawstenn @bisexualdisastersworld @bidisastersworld @abstractnaturaldisaster @evix-syne666 @nerdsconquerall @lololol-1234 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @a-little-unsteddie @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @elluminis @tailsfromthecrypt @danili666 @plyerice27 @alittlegreyfish  @n0-1-important @no-upper-limit-to-stupidity @maya-custodios-dionach @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @heaven428 @thedragonsaunt @ceaselessly-watching @imfinereallyy @messrs-weasley @sharingisntkaren @nohomoyesbi

[fablesrose]

Ch 15 - The Zanzibar Marketplace Job

Series Rewrite Masterlist 

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Description: Maggie gets arrested in Ukraine for stealing a priceless artifact. The team's got to go work with Sterling to get it back and clear her name

Words: 6560

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nate decided to let us help sort through possible clients, so the four of us, Nate, Tara, Eliot, and I were sitting around a table in McRory’s, looking through files. Hardison and Parker stood at the bar chatting, not wanting to over crowd. Nate explained his file which described a family whose pension disappeared and had their land seized by the state under eminent domain. 

“So these are all your lost sheep?” Tara asked, flipping through her own folder.  

“Excuse me?” Nate asked. 

“Well, you know, you can’t save them all.”

Nate didn’t have a response to that and just stood, saying he was going to get a refill of coffee. 

Tara looked between the two of us, “You know he’s drinking again.”

“I know,” I sighed at the same time Eliot said, “I’m not an idiot, Tara.”

“I was told this was a problem,” Tara said. 

“Drinking’s not a problem,” Eliot corrected, “It’s a symptom.”

The conversation didn’t go further as Nate came back. I kept my head down, looking at the file I had randomly selected, but I wasn’t actually reading it. They were right, but I didn’t know what I could do about it. I couldn’t do anything, really. Nate made his own decisions and he was one of the most stubborn people I knew. While I could support him, and hope he stopped again. I couldn’t make him. 

As I was lost in my thoughts I didn’t realize Nate had focused on someone who had walked into the pub until he said, “Eliot, I’m gonna ask you not to do anything violent.”

I looked up at Nate with a curious expression, why would he say that? I looked over to Eliot to see he had a similar look, but what caught my attention was the fact that Sterling was standing behind him.

“What?” Eliot said, “What are you talking about? I only use violence as an appropriate response.” 

“Hello Nate,” Sterling said. 

I watched as Eliot’s expression shifted for a split second before he stood quickly from his seat, turned and clocked him across the face. Sterling tried to fight back, even whipping out a baton, but he was nowhere close to even slowing Eliot down. A quick look at Parker and Hardison revealed that they were enjoying the show. 

“And this is…?” Tara asked. 

“James Sterling,” Nate answered, “we used to work together. Insurance.”

“Seems to rub Eliot the wrong way.”

“You could say that,” I answered this time. 

Nate walked up to the pair as Eliot pinned Sterling to the table he had been beating him on. “Hello Sterling. What are you doing here?”

“Actually, I came to offer you a job,” he strangled out. 

“There’s nothing you could say to make us work with you,” Eliot said. 

“It’s Maggie.”

Nate looked at me for a moment before telling Eliot to bring him upstairs. Eliot hauled Sterling up and kept a tight grip on him until we all got to Nate’s apartment. Sterling, of course was being a bit whiny and dramatic about being beat up, particularly that first punch across the face. I grabbed an ice pack out of Nate’s freezer and, a bit pettily, tossed it at him. I was aiming at his face, but miscalculated and it hit lower at his chest and shoulder. Though, he still flinched at the pack being cold and hard when it hit, so I called it a win. 

Sterling held the ice pack to his face as he explained the situation. A Faberge egg worth nine million dollars due to its rarity, was stolen from a Ukrainian museum. Maggie, who was working in that museum verifying Russian artifacts, was the only one in the building when the egg was stolen, therefore, she had been blamed.

“Who is…?” Tara asked. 

“Maggie is Nate’s ex-wife,” Eliot answered quickly. 

“Okay, is there any chance she took the egg?”

“No,” Parker answered this time, “Maggie is the most honest person we know, but besides that she’s okay.”

“Tara, she is probably a significant reason why I turned out, quote on quote, ‘normal,’” I added. 

Nate came rushing down the stairs from his room, “Maggie is being set up.”

“You live, and work here?” Sterling asked incredulously. 

“Yeah.”

“I like the old place better.”

“Do not mention the old offices,” Hardison demanded. 

“Maggie is where, precisely, right now?” Nate asked before that anger could get too far. 

“She is currently awaiting trial in the Kiev jail,” Sterling answered. “Of course when I heard that poor Maggie was being held without bail, I rushed-”

“Please,” Nate interrupted, “As soon as you found out that the Faberge egg that your company insures went missing, you-”

“Rushed to the Ukraine,” Sterling finished. “Of course I was unable to clear her name.”

“But I’m assuming you have another suspect.”

“Absolutely,” Sterling put a picture on the screen, “Alexander Lundy, international real estate mogul. Very rich, very powerful. My only problem is that he works at the American embassy, which makes him untouchable by normal law enforcement.”

“Guys we’ve got to book it, our flight to Kiev leaves in three hours,” Hardison insisted. Luckily we had all been multitasking getting our documents together. 

“Hang on,” Eliot said before we all scattered to finish packing. “I’m not working next to this guy,” Eliot stated, pointing accusingly at Sterling. 

“You don’t have to,” Nate assured, “I’ll work with him. You have a different job.”

“What?”

“Well, you’re the retrieval specialist,” Nate said, “retrieve my wife from jail, let’s go.”

Once we got to Kiev, Nate and Sterling went to meet with Alexander Lundy, and Tara, Hardison and Eliot went to get Maggie released from jail. Parker and I didn’t have anything to do at the moment, so we decided to go sightseeing for a little bit. We went to the museum, though I think Parker and I had different focuses. While I was admiring the art and artifacts, Parker couldn’t take her eyes off of the cameras and motion sensors. 

We returned to the I.Y.S. offices where Nate and Sterling were holding their investigation. They had boards with paperwork pinned to it, trying to figure out just how to prove that Maggie had nothing to do with the missing Faberge egg, and that Alexander did it. 

“That lying son of a-” Nate said, “I mean, look at these financials, the credit crunch wiped him out. He’s maybe three, four months from declaring bankruptcy.”

“Lundy offers up the egg to the museum exhibitions, so it falls under their insurance policy,” Sterling said, “hires a bit of local muscle to help with the heist, tidy payout.”

“Now, we just need some proof.”

Parker sighed from where she was perched on the counter, “It was an inside job. Average keypad hack time is one minute nine point three seconds, inner door access card takes at least thirty seconds for anybody but Hardison, and the vault was an old Mark two Remington.” She puffed, “In and out average, seven minutes forty seconds. With these thieves, they did it in five minutes twelve seconds. Maggie had the best access, so the real thieves only had to get her codes and badge… yeah, only way they could pull it off that fast.”

Sterling looked at Nate and I, “How long has she been sitting…”

I just nodded at him since she had been there the whole time, but Nate didn’t even bother. 

“Maggie’s on his calendar,” Nate said as he looked through some files, “he had lunch with her the day of the heist to discuss his collection. So while he’s keeping her busy at lunch, his men take her ID card and access codes… She gets framed for the heist, oh boy, I’m gonna nail this son of a-”

The door opened across the room and none other than Maggie, the woman of the hour, walked into the conference room. 

“I can explain,” Nate said quickly. 

I walked over and gave her a hug while Parker laid out some supplies on the table to show Maggie. Maggie hugged me back a bit confusedly. 

“We’re here to help,” I assured. 

“Maggie, it’s not what you think,” Nate also assured. 

Parker dragged Maggie over to the table, “It’s your first time being a fugitive, so I made you a bag.”

“Thank you, Parker,” Maggie said, “It’s not that I don’t appreciate getting out of jail, I just can’t live my life as a fugitive.”

“But you're not a fugitive,” Nate corrected, “You were released, not broken out.”

Parker was busy telling Maggie all the supplies she included in Maggie’s go back including a lock pick, toothpaste, and explosive gel, important not to mix up. 

“But you released me to run. I’m not going anywhere until my name is cleared.”

“That’s what I’m here to do!” Nate said, “to get the egg back and to clear your name.”

Maggie looked at me, thinking I was less likely to lie to her.

“Yes,” I backed Nate up, “That is what we’re trying to do, we just didn’t want you sitting in jail while we do that though.”

She turned back to Nate, “but you’re clearing my name with thieves! No offense Parker.”

Parker gave her a puzzled look, “at what?”

“Actually,” Sterling said cooly, “Nate and Y/n here have been rehabilitated.”

I scoffed, “Please Sterling, freelancing is a more honest profession than whatever you do.” The fact that I hadn’t done freelancing for months was not a fact that either him or Maggie needed to know. 

“Fine, Nate has been rehabilitated,” Sterling amended, “he’s here on official I.Y.S. business as a consultant. I brought him on.”

“You’ve gone straight?” Maggie asked.

Nate nodded but didn’t directly answer her, “the only reason they’re here is to deal with the authorities and to get you released and everything. They’re not staying.”

“Absolutely not,” Sterling said, “I don’t trust them, they don’t trust me.”

“Eliot already punched him,” Parker added, trying to help. 

“Yeah, it’s all above board,” Nate concluded, “it’s perfectly legit. You know, I think, really the best thing you could do is go back to the hotel, get cleaned up and everything, and I’ll call you if anything happens.”

Parker then ushered Maggie away with the intention of further explaining the go bag without the discouragement of Nate. I followed after them to maybe help Maggie escape if need be. I was eventually able to convince Parker that we needed to go and get her ready to ‘leave.’ It was a small lie in front of Maggie, because in reality Parker did have to get ready to leave, but it was for the American Embassy, not for home. Parker and Hardison went to the embassy pretending to apply for a marriage visa in order to get information off of Lundy’s phone. 

“Alexander has a travel visa to the United Arab Emirates,” Hardison said once they gleaned the info, “He’s also setting up accounts in the Caimans, Macao, and Switzerland.”

“Yes,” Nate said, “countries with no extradition treaty. Tax havens. Yeah, this does not look like someone who is going to wait around for the insurance payout.”

“And this guy showed up on his phone.”

“I know him,” Parker said. “That’s Adrian Chernov, he’s a fence.”

“Fence? So he’s selling it,” Hardison said. 

“Oh yeah, sure he’s selling it,” Nate responded, “He’s going to sell that egg on the black market and run.”

“Gotta hand it to the guy, it’s a pretty good plan,” Parker remarked, “I almost feel a little bad for screwing it up.”

“Really? I don’t,” Nate stated. 

I shot him a look, questioning his attitude for this job. Sure, Maggie was involved, but this pettiness wasn’t going to help in the long run. 

“Uh, Hardison? Can you get Chernov’s location for Tara and Eliot, please?” Nate requested. 

Hardison did as requested and sent Tara and Eliot on a mission. I was surprised at how quickly they were able to get some information, though it didn’t seem like much. The only thing that Chernov had on him was an envelope with a plain blank card inside. None of us could figure it out, so when they got back we called someone who might. 

“It’s a Zanzibar marketplace,” Sophie said when we showed her the card, “The marketplace is a one time event, it crops up in a city when an important piece has been stolen. You should have seen Stockholm after the Rembrandt heist. Parking was a bloody nightmare!”

“If it’s a one time event,” I started, “how do people know to come? It’s not like you can advertise.”

“Well, the prospective buyers are invited by their black market contacts,” Sophie answered. “They show up, verify the merchandise, and they make a sealed bid. Hey, shine an ultraviolet light on that card.”

Hardison dug through his bag, pulling a small one out. 

“Seriously?” Eliot asked, “you have one, just laying around?”

“And you’re surprised?” I asked in return. I had been eyeing the two braids he had in his hair the past couple of days. They originated from underneath layers of his hair, but were accentuated with beads at the end. I took the opportunity to give a playful tug to one of them, playing a bit with the bead. 

Eliot lifted his eyebrow at me, but didn’t tell me off. I gave a soft smile before dropping my hand, turning part of my attention back to Sophie and the card. I felt a bit bold touching his hair like that, I hadn’t attempted to do so until now. I didn’t want to push it though, even if he didn’t have a negative reaction this time. In fact, I hadn’t touched Eliot in any capacity very often. Still, the bit of hair I did touch was soft, and I theorized I would be thinking about it in the future. 

“The bidder’s ID number and the time of the auction’s encrypted on the card,” Sophie continued. “The bidders write their bid on the back of the card, one number, no zeros, and they hand it to the seller in a sealed envelope. They leave town immediately. A week later, if they win, they transfer the money, and the merchandise is couriered to them by a messenger as soon as the heat’s died down.”

As Sophie was explaining this, Hardison shone his little UV light on the card, and sure enough a time and bidding number appeared. 

“So no names, no contact with the money, or the item?” Hardison clarified. “Nice.”

“Alright,” Eliot said, “so marketplace means multiple buyers at the same time. Where’s he gonna do this without drawing attention?”

“At the embassy,” Nate answered as he entered the room. 

The three of us shared a look, glancing at Sophie who made a cutting motion on the screen. In response, Hardison slowly lowered the laptop screen, effectively ending the call. 

Nate continued as if he hadn’t noticed, “Yeah, the American Embassy is having a party tonight. Perfect cover.”

“It’s a great place to store stolen merchandise,” Eliot pointed out. “Pretty much American territory, local cops can’t even get through the gate.”

“Well, even if we can prove that Alexander has the egg, police can’t touch him or search for it.”

“If we can’t let loose the dogs of law enforcement on him, what do we do?” Hardison asked. 

“We, uh, steal the damn thing back,” Nate replied simply. 

I guess it was settled. Luckily formal attire has been permanently placed on my packing list, it seems you can never predict when there’s a time to dress up. All of us attended the party, courtesy of Sterling and I.Y.S., except for Hardison due to Sterling being petty about almost being blown up. At least, so I hear. 

The plan was for Tara to be the buyer and once the egg was located, Eliot and Parker would snatch it back. Hardison was in a van to run any technical support needed and I was there for additional personal support. Probably to be a distraction at some point. 

This plan was quickly foiled when Sterling conveniently forgot to tell us that Alexander and Maggie were in a relationship. This was only revealed when they walked into the party together. That meant that Alexander saw Tara with Nate, blowing her cover to be the buyer. It also meant that Eliot and Parker had to be extra careful to avoid being seen. Nate had Eliot be the bidder now, which required the envelope that Tara had with the card. 

“Parker,” Tara signaled, “Double reverse on three.” She took an empty glass and placed it along with the card on a waitress’s tray who was heading in her direction. 

I watched from a separate corner as Parker snatched the card off the tray and handed it to Eliot as they passed each other walking in different directions. “Damn, that was smooth,” I said, mostly to myself, clearly impressed and slightly jealous. 

Eliot gave me a quick wink through the crowd as he headed off to the auction which caused a blush to cross my face. 

I kept my distance from Nate and Tara as Maggie and Alexander approached, not wanting to get in the middle of that if I didn’t have to. 

Tara and Maggie introduced themselves to each other after a pointed exchange between Nate and Maggie. Alexander then thanked Nate for helping get Maggie out of jail. 

“Oh, don’t mention it,” Nate said. “After all, what was I supposed to do, let her sit and rot in a Ukrainian jail, to think about the poor choices she’s made? Without setting things right, or explaining herself?”

I sighed and said to myself, “What is it with everyone being petty today?” I then said pointedly, “ Nate, what the hell? Stop-” I wasn’t sure what to say, “Just stop with the attitude please, you’re acting like a toddler.”

Tara grabbed a drink off of a waitress’s tray and raised it to the group, “Cheers.”

Eliot made it to the auction saying, “Alright Nate, he’s hired some local security on the payroll, watch yourself.”

I glanced around the ballroom, picking out the few security personnel I could see. There was enough that suggested that there was plenty between who he hired and regular security to make certain menouvers difficult if not impossible. Hopefully if everything went to plan, it wouldn’t come to that. 

The two pairs made painfully awkward small talk across the room; I was glad I had decided to stay out of it. When Alexander excused himself, we knew it was go time. Eliot signaled they were about to present the egg and the rest of us prepared to get it back. What we didn’t expect was that the egg was presented as a video feed, meaning we didn’t know where it was. 

Hardison worked on tracking the signal of the feed and Eliot delayed the auction by having them move the egg on the screen ensuring it was a live feed and not a recording. Luckily, Hardison was able to work his magic and identify that it was not only still in the embassy, but what room it was in. He sent the map to us and Parker went to grab it. 

I was not as successful at blending into the crowd as Parker was, Maggie spotted me and wrapped me into a conversation with her and Tara. It was pleasant conversation, small talk at first, Maggie getting to know Tara. That’s to say, it was pleasant until Maggie just had to catch up with me.

“So…” she said, “anything happen between you and Eliot?” She had an innocent smile, but the intonation was more suggestive. 

I gave her a pointed smile, signalling her to drop it. “No, nothing’s happened. You know, with Nate cleaning up, going straight, I’ve only seen Eliot a couple of times since LA,” I lied. “Besides, we both know it was just the job, his character,” I said, this statement much less of one, if not completely true. 

Maggie gave me a hum and a, ‘if you say so’ look.

I glanced at Tara who had a lifted brow, curious. I lifted my own brow in return, almost daring her to say something, but desperately hoping she wouldn’t. 

Luck was on my side in this particular instance as the conversation shifted from my imaginary dating life to specifically them dating Nate. I saw Nate was walking towards us, so I gracefully excused myself to ‘grab a drink’ despite all the waitresses walking around. I started after Parker just in case something came up and she needed help. 

Unfortunately, something did come up. When the video feed ended, the guard who was in the room with the egg exited, and started guarding the door. Parker had no way in. Everyone else was out of position. I was on my way to help distract him when I ran into Sterling. 

We looked at each other for a moment in the hallway. He raised his bottle half empty bottle with a tilt of his head. I nodded, inferring what he was going to do and encouraged him down the hallway, leaving me a gap to follow. 

He started to coughing and staggering down the hallway just before he turned the corner where the guard would be. I left a roughly ten second gap before I started calling down the hallway after him. I jogged a little bit at the end, not very fast in the shoes I was wearing, but enough to show I was chasing. 

“Dad!” I said as I finally spotted him drunkenly leaning against the wall. The guard was already starting to approach him cautiously. I grabbed Sterling’s shoulder as if trying to stand him up again. “God dammit, I turn away for one second…” I feigned struggling to help him and turned to the guard who had closed the gap. 

“Do you need help, miss,” the guard asked. Well, for a goon of the bad guy, he was sweet.

“Would you please?” I asked, stepping away from Sterling to give the guard some room. “He’s a drunk, I can barely keep track of him sometimes.”

“I’m not a drunk,” Sterling slurred, “you are very strong.”

“Thank you,” the guard said as he supported him down the hallway we came from. 

I glanced to the other side of the hallway to see Parker sneaking around the corner towards the room. I nodded at her before turning back to Sterling and the guard, keeping him occupied. Parker communicated no issues when grabbing the egg and getting out. It didn’t take too long for the guard to get Sterling to a more respectable part of the embassy and for us to let him go back to his now empty post. 

“Your welcome,” Sterling said after the guard had gone. “I don’t know how you people ever manage-”

He cut off and stuck his finger in his ear. Hardison apologized for comm feedback, but everytime Sterling tried to talk, the feedback came back. I saw that Parker was cracking a smile similar to mine each time it happened.

We were prepared to clear out with the egg, but Nate was suddenly nowhere to be found. We decided to regroup back at our temporary base of operations, aka the I.Y.S. conference room, before doing anything too drastic. When we got back, Hardison tried everything he could think of to contact Nate, but to no avail. He couldn’t find him anywhere. 

“The case is closed, people,” Sterling whined, “the egg is back, I’m sure Nate is breaking it to Maggie about her continued bad choice in men.”

Before I, or anyone else, could snap back a retort, Hardison’s laptop rang with a call from Nate’s cell. When he answered, it was not Nate on the other end of the line. 

“We have your people,” the deeply disguised voice said. “No police. Await further instructions.” It then hung up. 

I immediately looked to Eliot, but my gaze shifted to Sterling who had begun to dial his phone. 

“What are you doing?” Tara asked, reading my mind. 

“Calling the police,” he said simply, “they don’t get to-”

Eliot snatched the phone before he could finish, “We’re not calling the cops. Two hostages means they can kill one to make a point.”

I nervously started chewing on the tip of my thumb, purposefully avoiding the nail. The focus and pressure on both my thumb and teeth was a distraction and outlet from the rising panic and anxiety rising through me. I couldn’t remember the stakes being this high, and for some reason, it felt that all the previous jobs and even my life before this was on easy mode, or even a dream, and that we had just entered the real world. Or maybe this was a dream, not really happening. Before I could spiral further, Eliot took charge, bringing my attention back to him. 

“Alright listen, there's three types of calls we can get next,” Eliot began, “One: amateur. Cash and a dump site. Number two: professional. That’s wire transfers and multiple location drop offs.” Eliot then hesitated for half of a second, “And three: targeted.”

“Targeted towards us?” Hardison asked hesitantly. 

“No,” Eliot answered, “towards a specific ransom demand.” He looked at the egg that was sitting in a case on the table, “not cash.”

Sterling was not having it, “You know, risking a nine million dollar artifact-”

“It might be the only chance!”

“On a hunch!”

Eliot was clearly irate as he rolled his eyes and rounded the table to stand behind the rest of us, facing Sterling.

“Let me run this,” Sterling continued, “we track the calls, find out whoever it is, let the police-”

“Sterling,” Eliot finally cut him off, “I’m the retrieval specialist. That’s my job.”

Sterling took a hard look at us, “Your friends’ lives hang in the balance, and you’re gonna take your cues from a punch up artist, instead of me?”

None of us verbally answered, it was clear where we stood. Sterling shifted his gaze across every one of us individually, testing the waters until he came to me. 

“Even you, y/n? You trust him to save your dear Uncle Nate and Auntie Maggie and not me?”

I swallowed with a set jaw before answering because it was clear this time that he wanted an answer, “Yeah, Sterling. I trust him. I’d trust him with this any day of the week over you. And to top it off, I like him better too. So let. him. do it. Or there’s gonna be problems.” I could feel myself trembling softly, mostly through my hands which I was hiding behind the table. I couldn’t decide if it was fear, anger, or something else, but I started to chew on my lip once I finished talking to release some energy and keep myself from saying something stupid. 

Sterling made an expression of acceptance and closed the case with the egg in it and grabbed it off the table. “Call me when you need me. Cuz you will need me.” He then walked out of the room with the egg in hand. 

The rest of us looked at each other once he was gone. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I guess this was it. We had to get Nate and Maggie back. 

Eliot directed Tara and Parker to try to see where Alexander was, Tara to check his house, Parker to check around the embassy. Hardison continued to work on his laptop, trying to prepare or find anything that would help.

I paced around the room a couple of times before turning to Eliot. I was about to ask what I could do when he shook his head. 

“There’s nothing you can do right now, we just have to wait,” he placed his hand on my shoulder which comforted me more than he would know and directed me to sit at the table. “We’re gonna get them back, I promise. I’m gonna get them back.” He held eye contact long enough for me to know that he meant it. 

I nodded, letting him know that I believed him. He then removed his hand and sat at his own seat, thinking. I was so tired, this night had been long and now the stress was draining my energy even faster. I folded my arms on the table and rested my head. Just for a second, to rest my eyes. As hard as I tried to not fall asleep, Hardison’s quiet clacking on his keyboard slowly lulled away from consciousness. 

I awoke with a start when Tara and Parker walked in the room sporting no news of where Alexander was except not at his house and that his embassy car was checked out. 

“He’s angry,” Eliot said, “We took his payday.”

Just then, the phone rang. Eliot spread his hands with an ‘alright’ and pulled the conference speakerphone towards him. 

“Go,” he said simply when he answered it. 

“If you follow our instructions, your friends will be returned unharmed,” the distorted voice on the other end said. 

“We agree. Tell us what you want.”

Hardison worked on reversing the distortion and succeeded which revealed Alexander’s voice. 

“You owe me nine million dollars,” Alexander said. “I still have a buyer for the egg, return it, and I return your friends.”

“I want proof of life, now,” Eliot demanded. 

Alexander hesitated, “Agreed.”

It wasn’t long before a webcam video was provided showing a storage room where Alexander’s assistant was handcuffed. The accountant was talking about Alexander’s finances when Nate walked into frame, saying that we had found all of the fishy stuff in his accounts. Maggie then walked into frame and started arguing about us being here.

“There’s our proof of life,” Eliot said. 

“I was in that room earlier,” Parker said. 

“That’s the room the egg was in.”

“They’re at the embassy.”

“That doesn’t do us any good,” Tara pointed out. “We can’t storm it and the police can’t touch it.”

The feed cut out.

“I sent you the address,” Alexander said, “Come alone, at dawn. Bring the egg, or your friends die.”

Eliot hung up, shoving the speaker away.

Hardison pulled up the address Alexander sent, “Okay, the address is one of Alexander’s construction sites. Local project. Abandoned once his business got in trouble.”

“So now we have to go convince Sterling,” Tara said. “Who hates you-”

“Us,” Parker corrected, “He hates us.”

“To loan you a nine million dollar antique,” she continued, “so you can bring it to a ransom drop.”

“Listen,” Eliot said, “We know who’s behind this. We know what they want. We have the upper hand here. We do.”

We started to prepare for the drop. Eliot was coming up with the plan, predicting an elevator drop since we were directed to go to one of the higher floors of the building. There was a moment where he stopped mapping it out and stared at the screen again where the webcam feed used to be. 

“What is it?” I asked him when I noticed the furrowed brow. 

“There wasn’t sound on the video during the auction, but there was sound for our proof of life,” he said thoughtfully. 

I sat and thought on it for a minute, trying to find an explanation. The video played over in my head a couple of times before I thought I noticed something. 

“The assistant…” I thought out loud, “He didn’t seem… right. For someone who had been taken hostage. It sounded almost…”

“Rehearsed,” Eliot finished for me. He finally broke his gaze at the screen and looked at me, “I think it’s him doing this, not Alexander.”

I rested my head on my hands, “So what does this mean?”

He tilted his head, “He kept this pretty well covered up, blaming Alexander, he might try to pull something.”

I hesitated, “Like… leave no witnesses, pull something?”

Eliot nodded, “Yeah.”

I took a deep breath, “So what now?”

He turned back to his notepad, scribbling a bit more before setting his pen down. “Well, I have a plan. Now to see if Sterling will give up the egg long enough for us to get Nate back.”

“Do you want me to handle that?” I asked, trying to be helpful, knowing full well the tension that would be there. 

“No,” he responded simply, “I’ll talk to him.”

I sighed a little annoyed, “Eliot, don’t baby me, let me do something. I’ve felt useless the last few jobs, I want to help. I want to help get Nate back.”

“Hey,” Eliot stopped me, “I’m not babyin’ ya. I know you’re capable. I didn’t like the way he spoke to you earlier, to be honest. Just… don’t worry about anything, okay?”

I nodded meekly before saying a bit more light heartedly, “yeah, you’re right, you should do it. The underlying threat of him being punched in the face might help our case, huh?”

He gave me a crooked smile and a wink before going to make the call. 

I looked up after him as he walked away when my eyes caught Tara’s from across the room. It looked like she had been watching the exchange with a tilt of her head. I tilted my head back at her and she walked over to sit across the table from me. 

“How’re you holding up?” She asked. 

I rubbed my eyes, “You’re the grifter, I’m sure you can tell.”

“It’s still polite to ask,” she said pointedly. 

I gave a murmured agreement before answering, “I’m… okay. I trust the team. It’s just…” I trailed off, trying to find the words. “It’s just another one of those moments where it hits me how useless I am. I can’t contribute anything, I’m just dead weight that they have to worry about in case something goes wrong. You all have done this for years, you know the risks, how to navigate them. I’m trying, and I want to be here, but…” I didn’t know how to finish, but I figured I didn’t need to. I didn’t need to dump on Tara, she was here for the paycheck.

“Well, maybe they need a little bit of normal in their lives. Keeps them grounded,” she answered unexpectedly, to me at least. 

I looked up at her for a moment, “That’s kind of you to say, Tara.” It was clear I didn’t quite believe her. 

She stood up again, “Fine, if you won’t listen to me, at least listen to Eliot. Stop worrying about it. You said you trust the team. So trust them.” She walked out of the room, most likely going to the hotel to sleep. 

That wasn’t a bad idea. 

The next morning I was still stressed, but resting helped me feel a lot better. I wanted to wait with Eliot on the higher floor to be there when Nate and Maggie arrived, but he told me to go help Tara with her task. I was going to protest, but the stern, yet reassuring look he gave me encouraged me to go. 

Tara and I waited around the corner, waiting for the embassy car that the assistant would come in. Once they pulled up, he and his guards entered the building with Nate, Maggie, Alexander, and a suspicious looking bag in tow. I handed Tara a screwdriver and she handed back a license plate that Hardison had linked to a stolen vehicle. 

We each took a side and began to switch the embassy plates, making it officially a civilian car. When I had just finished up, Sterling came out of the building, the Faberge Egg in hand. I was going to ignore him, but he walked right up to me and the car. 

“Can you get me into the trunk?” He asked seriously. 

I furrowed my brow in confusion, “The trunk? You want me to stuff you in the trunk?”

His face twisted in a way that told me that he didn’t like the way it was phrased, but finally replied, “Yes.”

“Okay,” he didn’t have to tell me twice. 

They had been stupid, or confident, enough to leave it unlocked so I simply pulled the trunk handle that was beside me and opened it up.

“In ya go,” I grabbed his arm and shoved him towards the opening. 

He barely was able to catch himself and landed ungracefully. He twisted around to face me and said sarcastically, “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” I closed the trunk lid on his head, bumping it a little. I heard a muffled swear. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I’m sure a bruise wouldn’t hurt the act,” I answered loudly at him. I didn’t wait for another muffled answer and went to the other entrance to head up to the floor where everyone else was. Tara and I waited around the corner to watch them speed off first though. 

When Tara and I arrived, Hardison was explaining how he sped up the elevators and then stopped them to give Parker time to switch out the bomb from the elevator and then put the elevators on track to arrive on time. 

“Looks like we missed the party,” Tara said.

“Did they do what we thought?” Eliot asked.

“Yup,” I popped the ‘p.’ “Hopped into their ‘embassy’ car and sped off towards the airport.”

Tara and I raised the license plates, showing the switch. She dropped hers on the ground while I inspected mine for a moment. 

“Might keep a souvenir,” I commented. 

“How did you…” Nate asked.

Eliot explained the sound on the webcam and how he figured out who was really behind the theft and kidnapping. 

“After that, you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure it out,” he finished. 

“You know, people underestimate you Eliot,” Maggie said. 

“That’s kinda the point,” Nate replied. 

Eliot turned towards the rest of us with a content smile for a moment before Alexander asked where the egg was. 

“Yeah, in order for us to get the egg from Sterling, he made some additions,” Eliot said.

“Wouldn’t let the egg out of his sight, or too far from his grasp,” I added. I thought back to him coming out of the building with it and pushing him in the trunk, “He’s got it safe and sound.”

That settled it, so we left to go pack up and head home. Once we got there, we gathered in the pub for our celebratory drink. Except, the news was on. It showed Sterling crawling out of the embassy car trunk and telling the news how he discovered who had the egg and got it back.

“Based on his work recovering the priceless artifact,” the news anchor said, “He’s been invited to join Interpol. He’s a real life Sherlock Holmes.”

“That son of a gun,” I said. “I should have hit him harder with the trunk, knocked him out.”

“Yeah,” Parker said to me, “Interpol? Seriously?”

“Sterling’s career gets another bump because of our hard work,” Hardison said. 

“We didn’t even get paid,” Tara added. 

“Nope,” Hardison answered. 

“I hate this guy,” she concluded. 

Eliot knocked his beer against hers, “Now, you’re part of the team.” 

I raised my glass, “Cheers.”

A/n: Reblogs and comments are welcome and encouraged! Thank you for reading!

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