#what if someone else had found him first? what if someone called public security and shinra came to 'investigate?'

[rocketbirdie]

fateful encounter

[goldsbitch]

the last time I pick you up

Moving blues hits hard. Y/N and Lando are finally letting go of her old apartment, which brings out strong emotions, that you need to burn out somehow.

warning: smut, no protection

It's been long time coming - finally moving together after countless times of flipping a coin to determine which apartment you and Lando would spend your free hours and sometimes even days.

His place was spacious and the location was obviously the biggest asset. But god, was it close to an empty wasteland. True "lad's" apartment, up to a point you were surprised he had a bed (without a bed frame, of course...). Your place was a true home - decorations, pillows, candles and full stacked skincare. Even though it lacked in size and the plumbing was more than questionable, it had a soul and you'd poured loved into your rented apartment over the time you'd spend there.

However, it was becoming clear that your relationship stable and secure enough to get rid of one side of the logistics equation that was dating a racing driver.

So, moving it was. They say moving is one of the most stressful mundane experience in one's life and you couldn't agree more. You were stripped of the usual duties, because Lando insisted about him paying for premium movers and you didn't object for more than 30 seconds.

But the sentimental "last visit" is something you can't pay someone to do for you. The walk through the memory lane was all up to you.

After few hours you were almost done sorting things out into two piles, one would join you in Lando's apartment, the other one was being left behind for someone else to get over to a charity shop.

When Lando finally came to pick you up, he found you sitting on the floor, knee deep in the cocktail of conflicting emotions.

"Baby? You here?" he called before entering the living room. You looked up at him, weak tears rolling in you eyes, unable to speak at first.

Lando stopped when he saw you, surprised at finding you sitting on the floor like that and then immediately went to sit sit next to you and hug you.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked, half concerned, half confused.

You tried to surpress the wet drops in your eyes. This was stupid anyway, right? After few moments of Lando's confused look and his hand on your cheek, you finally looked back at him.

"This is the last time you pick me up here," you said in a low tone and it was like you took the lid of your memories.

The first night he spent here, the first one you talked through, unable to stop the conversation, the many nights he fucked you senselessly and hours spent cuddling under the bedsheets.

The way how this apartment provided you a safe space in the first weeks when you dated, hidden safely from the harsh judgy look the public imposed on you so cruelly at the beginning.

You got to know him here. Waited impatiently many times for his key to finally click in the front door, his tired post-race face, often still holding marks from his helmet, because he would jump on the plane the first thing, just get back to you for few hours. You remember how you laughed, when he insisted on installing his weird neck exercise device, because it meant he could spend more time with you. He tried to teach you how to assist him, and then laughed at you, because you were just so naturally bad at this stuff.

You recall the one afternoon when you came back from a meeting and found him sitting in your bathtub, which was filled up with slowly melting ice-cubes. His argument was, that he needed a post work out ice bath and there was nothing like that around where you lived. This time it was you who laughed, when you saw how much ice he had to buy. Lando was a cheeky guy, so once he got out of the ice bath, he chased you around your apartment, naked, with the intention to snuggle you into his cold, icy embrace.

Lando was taken back by the glassy look in your stoic face. "I know. But, if you look at it from a different perspective, this is the last time I pick you up. From now on, we'll be meeting at our home." He spoke slowly, perhaps to make his words more impactful.

You smiled, knowing well enough that was the best part of it. Still, the melancholy lingered in stronger way then you'd have ever expected.

"No more of that weird lady upstairs who always gave me angry looks after I fucked you hard," he tried to lighten up the mood, which worked and you let out a snort laugh while wiping small tears from your cheeks.

"Yeah, I am definitely not going to miss that," you said, yet still there was a sense of leaving a part of your life behind, a part that you would adorn for the rest of your life. The only hope you had that you and Lando would be able to continue on making priceless memories anywhere the two of you were.

"Y/N, I think it's time to finish sorting the stuff out and grab something to eat. We can go that favorite café of yours," he suggested after few moments of silence.

You took a deep breath. "Yes, I'd love that," you turned to him and gave a light peck on his lips. Lando immediately turned that into a deep french kiss, which took you by surprise a little. He was never a words person and you could finally feel from the way how he kissed you so eagerly, that he was also emotional about this move.

"You're the love of my life," you said the signature sentence you two developed naturally, instead of saying a simple I love you.

"And you're mine," he responded with the signature assurance that followed that sentence.

//

The two of you slowly arrived to the point where most of the stuff was sorted, decisions were made and it was time to say goodbye.

A shock of sudden anxiety ran through you. "Lando. I still don't have the necklace." He knew well enough which one you were talking about. It was the first one he ever gave you and one that you held so dearly that it made him proud. But still, in his eyes it was just an object. One that you misplaced and could not find for weeks now.

"It's probably at my apartment anyway," he said, trying to let you go of it. He already had a replacement ordered anyway.

"Let me just check under the bed. Haven't looked there yet," you said and strolled over to the now stripped bed. He watched you, as you bent over in your cute summer dress that casually showed the curve of your ass as you searched under the bed. There was something so primal for him about seeing you like that.

"Y/N, you know this is a very dangerous move from your part, right?" he said, leaning over the door frame and enjoying the view.

"Come on, Lando," you laughed, as you desperately kept looking for the necklace, with no luck whatsoever. "This is serious."

"Oh, I never said anything different," he smirked, letting his thoughts run into one place and one place only.

"Omg, Lando!" you screamed, in a very different tone, alerting him immediately.

"What?" he asked, tuning into your worry. You got up with a horrified face, as if you'd just seen a ghost. Unable to speak, you just stared at him.

"What?" he repeated, less seriously this time. Knowing you, it must have been nothing.

"Oh my god, I am going to get in so much trouble with the landlord!"

He looked at you sheepily. "Do I have to look there myself or are you going to tell me?"

You closed your eyes. "The floor is like severely damaged. We're talking like, deep marks. Under all of the corners of the bed."

It took him a second to get the dots connected before his eyes went wide and the smarted smug appeared on his face. "Really?" he said proudly. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. He sneaked around you and took a quick look under the nearest bed corned.

"Ohoo, nice!," he laughed, even more proud than before. "This is from us, right?"

His smugness was a little contagious, you had to admit it. "Of course, who else Lando. In fact, that's your damage, so you're paying for it!"

He choked, taking few steps towards you. "Oh am I?"

You bit your lip, as he closed of your exit with his right arm, putting on the door frame and pushing you towards it. "Yes, you are...It's from you moving the bed."

The mood changed really quickly. You knew the look in his face well enough. He was shooting arrows, making your heartbeat faster, breath shorter and mind suddenly focused on one thing and one thing only. Having him, all the way in, wrapped around and inside of you. He pulled your chin up with his thumb and subconsciously mirror your lip biting. At this point, you were completely pushed to the door frame, his torso pulling into your. "Well, if I'm already paying for damages, I think I deserve to make it count, one last time," he said and moved his hand over to your chest, causing you to let out a breath out. He knew well enough what kind of an effect he had on you. Few moments of painfully arousing eye contact and you finally put your hands behind his neck and kissed him again. With the energy only young adults have, he twisted his tongue with yours, bit your lip gently and in the meantime picked you up and moved you the short distance over to the bed. Your thoughts were all wrapped up around how great his body felt, how his intoxicated smell completely clouded your mind and how you'll get to have him on this old bed of yours for one last time.

He didn't even bother taking your dress off, he just pushed it up and started working you up with his fingers. This high he gave you was a familiar ground at this point. And most possibly your absolutely most favorite place on this planet. While sharing messy kisses and loosing yourself in the growing pleasure, you went to unbuckle his belt and stroke him slowly. He didn't wait long before he pulled back to take his shorts off and you finally had full access. You stroked him few times, before he pinned your arms above your head. "My bills, my playground," he said and his hands began to roam your body all the way down to the hem of your dress. He didn't even bother taking your underwear off, just pushed it to the side and slid into you, like he had hundreds times before. Flashes of the countless encounters you've had on this bed flashed like a film in your mind. You loved this man. He was the ultimate drug for you. Intoxicating above levels you could have ever imagined. If there ever was a home, if was right there - with him inside you. He pushed slowly few times before finally slamming into you full speed, full force, knowing well enough it was what you craved anyway. Hot breath was only cut with the symphony your soft moans and sounds the squeaky bed made. Lando held your legs pressed up to your stomach, while you hugged your chest, making your tits pushed up for him to kiss occasionally. You reached your high twice before he released himself onto your dress and collapsed next to you. Short of breath, the two of you still kissed. "Sorry for the dress," he said apologetically and you had to laugh a little. For this feeling you'd stain anything you ever owned.

"I know you have a thing for leaving traces behind, baby," you replied, being guilty of using this little kink of his to your advantage many times in the past.

He bit his lip and brushed his nose agains yours. "Guilty as charged."

Your breath was slowly coming back to a regular tempo. "I should get changed before we go," you said, intent on leaving soon.

His hand locked you in as he traced lined on your hips. "Let's stay just a little. I'm going to miss the way how we made this bed squeaky over time," he said, making you smile and blush.

[nebbyy]

Please write a fanfic about King Baldwin IV from KoH, where he fell in love with female reader. The plot is up to you. Please make it a serious love story with slight fluff 🤗🤭

Baldwin IV x reader - Life always comes down to a game of chess

A/N: You have no idea how much I love you anon, this was one of the prompts I already wanted to write omgggg!! For this fic I kinda got inspired by this painting (which, for everyone interested, it’s “La belle dame sans merci” by Frank Dicksee), and you’ll see how and why reading it;)

Summary: King Baldwin IV receives an offer from an Italian nobleman to marry his daughter; unsure of whether to accept or not this compelling offer, Baldwin decides to do what he does best…

Warning: there are some mentions of christianity and religious references along with some hints at the misogynistic ideologies of the time (about the woman being “owned” by the dominant male figure in her life) ((I don’t condone this ideology at all but I thought it’d be fitting to add it anyway to give some accuracy to it)).

Word count: 2637

King Baldwin couldn’t quite wrap his head around you. The day that he was informed of your engagement, he felt himself quite skeptical of the idea of marrying someone. After all, ever since his leprosy had been diagnosed he had to get used to the idea of living a life of solitude, forced into a lifelong chastity, for no sane man would ever marry off their daughter to a leper. With time, he had found solace in nurturing his own knowledge and virtue, elevating himself to a level of wisdom that very few could boast at his young age.

During the following days, the young king's mind was plagued with thoughts, considerations he was making to weigh the choice. The benefits of marrying Lady Y/N were many, first and foremost securing a connection to the land of Italian speakers, allowing for easier trafficking of crusaders arriving in the Holy Land, not to mention the abundance that would be the young lady's dowry. And not only did marrying her mean strengthening the economical side of his reign, but it also meant giving the impression to the public that the king's health condition was improving to such an extent that he considered that to be an ideal time to marry. His most trusted men and all of his advisors kept repeating to him, marrying Lady Y/N would’ve been  comparable to a blessing.

But despite all the benefits this union seemed like it would bring, Baldwin continued to hesitate to make a decision. What left him so undecided was the possibility that this was some kind of deception, a conspiracy orchestrated against him, hidden in the form of the most convenient of marriages. It was up to him to decide whether it was worth taking these risks in favor of the benefits that would come if his concerns turned out to be unfounded. 

Like everything else in his life, this choice came down to a game of chess…

It was this idea that prompted him to make a decision. Baldwin had a messenger called, to be sent to Pisa to give the news to Lord Y/F/N that the king wished to report his decision to him live, at his court. For the lord to arrive it would have to wait, but Baldwin has always been a man of exceptional patience.

Four months passed, when at the dawn of Lent it was announced by a Pisan messenger that Lord Y/F/N and his daughter had come to Acre, and would soon be coming to Jerusalem. Another week passed before father and daughter, riding two white horses and accompanied by an escort of knights arrived at the royal palace.

When he first saw you, Baldwin could have sworn he saw Mary himself. You walked with such grace that you almost seemed to float. Your face looked serene, despite the anxiety that had been devouring you from within ever since the day the invitation from the king of Jerusalem reached you; a blue veil covered your hair, framing your face and falling over your shoulders. You bowed to Baldwin as was proper to do before a king, yet he felt so tempted to interrupt you, prevent you from bowing to him, perhaps even bowing to you himself.

At that moment he felt like Lancelot before Guinevere, completely mesmerized by your beauty, one who seemed more fit to an angel than a woman. But, he gave no sign of his true emotional state; after all, a gorgeous woman does not mean she can be fit to serve as queen. Her answer will be decided when she has had a chance to hear you speak, away from the judgmental stares of the court, free from any influence that might change what you really think.

As the sun shone bright in the sky, the banquet took place inside of the palace. The king excused himself before going to eat by himself in his chambers as usual, leaving his guests in the company of his sisters and his court. Loud chatter filled the room, goblets were raised to get more wine poured, courses flowed onto the set table, a tribute to thank Lord Y/F/N for making such a journey to fulfill the king's request. All this noise, yet in your ears all became quiet when a servant approached your chair, whispering a few simple words, "The king has requested your presence at dinner."

Your blood froze in your veins in surprise, and you could almost feel your father's thrill as you rose from your seat, having the servant guide you toward the king's study. Walking through the halls of the palace, you could do nothing but feel so small in comparison, you almost seemed to disappear, enveloped by the magnificence of everything around you that, if all went well, you would have called your own.

You were brought back to reality when the heavy doors of the king's room were opened by the two guards who stood at his sides. An enveloping fragrance, a mixture of myrrh and frankincense filled your senses with a feeling of serenity, an almost familiar feeling. In the center of the room, a hooded figure, dressed in silk as white as snow. "Come forward, my lady. I apologize for my absence at the table but," she interjected for a moment, rising from her seat and revealing her face-or at least, what was not covered by the veil-"many might find my appearance somewhat...disturbing during a meal." He chuckled a little at that last part. You wondered if irony had become a kind of means for him to soften his own hellish condition. 

As soon as he turned around you could not help but study the appearance of what will hopefully be your future husband. Rumors about his condition had been swirling since the day he was crowned, so you had been prepared to be confronted with a horrifically disfigured man. Instead, although part of his face was covered by the thin veil, it was like an instinct for you to try to study his features. You could vaguely make out the golden hair that adorned his face, although it was covered by the veil. His voice had intrigued you; it sounded so jovial and yet so deep. A melody that sang of the young monarch's endeavors. It intrigued you, you wondered what his lips looked like, whether they matched the sound of his voice.

But what really caught your interest were his eyes. They were blue, but of a color so deep, so intense, it reminded you of tales you had heard about the northern seas, of the waters that dark and deep seemed to beckon sailors, to lead them to drown within them. Likewise you felt mesmerized by such intensity. And you wondered, how much of this would remain the same as his illness progressed.

You recovered from that momentary trance, wasting no time to bow, but this time Baldwin stopped you before you were able to bow more than your head: "Don't bow, please. Such reverences are not necessary here." You looked at him a little dumbfounded, but despite the king's unusual attitude you did not object. He stepped to the side, revealing a finely decorated chessboard, with all the pawns already set in place. "Do you play?" he asked softly, and you finally mustered up the courage to speak "It's been some time since I last did," as you approached the table, taking your seat opposite Baldwin. He took his seat again, and for the first time in your life you found yourself face to face with a king. 

You quickly realised that he had assigned you the white pawns, the small courtesy of moving you first. You took a moment to think of an initial strategy, and moved your first pawn. A horse. Baldwin raised his eyebrows, surprised by your decision. "Aren't you going to move the pawns first?" You kept your gaze on the chessboard, partly out of respect and partly out of fear, still unsure why the king would call you to his chambers, if indeed it was all just to have a playmate. "I always prefer to start with the horse. I like to think that the pawns would be frightened to charge against the enemy without a knight to guide them." You looked up, meeting his eyes that studied you intrigued. Chuckling at what you had just said, you continued, shaking your head slightly, "Forgive me, it was just a silly thought."

"Not at all, my lady," he replied, studying your every detail, "I find it fascinating." It was his turn to move, and as per rule, he moved one of the pawns, the one in front of the queen. "So you think good leadership is better than letting the individual decide for himself?" There was a spark that had lit up in his eyes, something playful. It was clear that you were intriguing him, surprisingly in your eyes, since you had been instructed to stay behind your father's shadow, not to express your thoughts or externalize your ideologies.

Everything had to be perfect, one could not risk the futile mind of a young woman ruining the marriage that would have been so beneficial to her dukedom, but above all to her family. Yet at that moment she felt that expressing what resided in her own mind was exactly what Baldwin wanted from her. Something lit up in her too, and he in turn caught the same spark in her eyes. Could it be that she had figured out the trick...? 

Another pawn moved, it was Baldwin's turn to move again. Your eyes seldom parted from each other, just for that moment necessary to make your own move. "Independence is not always what benefits a man. Certainly, it is tempting, but in moments of indecision it risks leading to oblivion. An infantryman needs a leader, a young man who is lost in the woods needs a hunter to guide him out..." Another move, the white bishop points directly at the black king "...an indecisive man needs an outside opinion to make his decision."

You smiled, and like the sweetest of plagues you infected him too. You had deciphered his little deception. An innocent deception, with the purpose of seeing with your own eyes how you, in a condition so similar to what is the duty of a sovereign, would have acted. 

After all, his life always came down to a game of chess....

"So you understood..." Baldwin whispered, again sitting in his place. For the first time in his memory, someone had managed to leave him speechless. His witty mind seemed to have died out all of a sudden, the knight in him unarmed by the woman sitting in front of him. Maybe the deception wasn’t as occult as he had planned, or maybe this young lady was really able to stand up to him.

You smiled at him proudly, be proud of your intuition but also relieved that your thought had not turned out to be foolish. Your pride had removed from your mind every rule, every admonition that had been given to you from the moment you set foot in the Holy Land; your mind was now like a river in flood, finally free to flow out according to its natural course. "I do not blame you, my lord. I realize that this is a difficult choice for you, and that the factors at stake go far beyond your individual will."

"And what do you think about that?" Your smile acquired a bittersweet scent, and you answered without almost hesitation: "I am only a woman, my will is that of my father and it will be of my husband. My family prays that this role will be filled by you, and for this to happen I have been instructed to be fit to reign at your side."

“That I can clearly see, but what truly urges me is to know what your own will says. If we were to marry, you would be the bride to a wretched man, one whose fate has already been announced by God. My demise won't be far off, you’ll be left a widow in a foreign land. And before this… curse gets the better of me, there is no saying that it won’t get to you too. If it did, you would suffer the same fate I had been given.”

It took you a moment to let his words sink into your mind. He spoke the truth, a future with him would be filled with sickness and uncertainty; you would have to live in a court far from your home, where everyone was waiting for the king’s death like a flock of crows flying above a dying man. You took a deep breath, feeling as everything came down to this very moment. “I won’t lie to you, my lord, the future that awaits me while standing by your side is not an easy one by any means, and I’m very much aware of that. I do not expect my future to be easy, for it would be an excess of greed. So if I can have a saying in my own future, I’d like to say that I would much rather all the time that is given to me by the Lord standing by the side of a man filled with virtue, than by the side of a man too full of himself to see anything just an inch away from his reflection. There would be no greater honor for me than to stand by your side, for as long as you still have to live, my lord. And if I ever was to catch this disease as well, then I would have no other words to say other than God wills it.“

At your words, the young king had to shake himself up, now more than ever necessary for him to say something, anything really. “For you, my lady, I shall always be just Baldwin.” His tone was softer than ever, a soft breeze that reached to you and whispered I am but yours now. It was unsaid, but decided. Once this meeting would be over, the king would come to your father, and confirm his decision to accept the proposal. Only problem was, this meeting seemed to have become endless. What was supposed to be a quick meal, accompanied by a game of chess, turned into a lively exchange of political views, then silly childhood anecdotes, then again into a walk in the inner courtyard of the palace. Baldwin tried hard to keep you in his presence for as long as was deemed decent for an unmarried man and woman. He kept you with him as long as he could, and when that was no longer possible, he led you back into the great hall, gently holding your hand over his. Soon after the announcement of your engagement, the wedding was set to happen during the following Easter, and the banquet made in honor of his guests was prolonged until the sun had been long set, this time in honor of his betrothed.

You think back to that day fondly, as you lay on your bed, in the comfort of silky sheets and soft pillows. One of your hands holds your head while the others traces the patterns of the scars in your husband’s face that have considerably worsened during the years. Aside from the bed, sitting on a table, forgotten as long as the night reigned over Jerusalem, were two crowns, along with two chess pawns. A white queen and a black king. Both came from the set that had been used the day the two of you met, a reminder for Baldwin of the day God had merged your destinies in one.

A/N: wowww that came out longer than I though oopss. ANYWAY, this was my interpretation of your request, anon, hope you like it!! Also, for everyone who’s gonna read this, feel free to leave any constructive criticism since this is my first fic and I would like to improve a looot more in my writing skills. That’s it now have a nice day y’all <3<3

[bowandcurtsey]

Hello could I ask for headcanons of kuroo, sakusa and suna with an absolutely drop dead gorgeous s/o ?

Absolutely love Haikyuu requests (≧◡≦) The boys are all so cute and dorky ♡

Characters: Kuroo | Sakusa | Suna x f! reader TW: unchecked works

Kuroo Tetsuro

He calls you all the pretty names in the dictionary and beyond.

"Hello stunning flower of the galaxy”

Stares at you so much and smiles to himself wondering how is he so lucky.

When someone else stares at you, he’ll pull an arm around you and smirk at whoever’s staring, expression telling them I know, but she’s mine.

When you dress up and look extra pretty for him on date nights, he gets excited and tells you, “can’t wait to come home already~”

Also tells you he cant wait to have pretty babies with you. “Ahh I hope our kids take all your genes, cause you’re perfect”

He upkeeps himself well for you to, making sure he stays in shape and takes care of his skin.

Sometimes you laugh a little at him doing his brows. Once in awhile you’ll whine for him to accompany you awhile more and skip the gym.

“Baby, not everyone is effortlessly perfect like you” he pecks you on the lips.

Feels slightly in secure at random times. Especially when he’s stressed with other things.

But you remind him that “beauty is just something that is on the outside, it’s what inside that matters, Tetsu”

Stroke his hair, he’ll be ok in no time.

Sometimes YOU get insecure too, cause “what happens when I get old and I’m not longer pretty?”

Kuroo always has a brow lifted at you whenever you ask that question, “thank god, then I won’t have that much competitors anymore”

Sakusa Kiyoomi

He didnt like you because you were pretty in the first place. I feel like Sakusa would be the type of person that’s immune to looks.

He thinks you’re gorgeous because he’s madly in love with you.

It was only until he realise men staring at you or men asking for your number whenever you’re out, that he started to feel annoyed.

He’ll walk up to you and pull you flush to his body, giving the death stare to them.

“Don’t want any germs and viruses on you babe.”

If you’re there watching his games, and he catches people staring, he’ll be more annoyed. His spikes are harder and deadlier.

But he feels better when he hears you shout and cheer for him. He feels proud knowing that the most beautiful girl in the room only has eyes for him.

Likes it when you wear his jersey or anything shirt that shows his name to his game and he’ll try to get you vip seats so that you don’t have to squeeze with the crowd.

Well, this man doesn’t really care about what anyone else thinks so comments like “beauty and the beast” or “she is better off with” don’t really affect him. He wouldn’t have dated you if you were the type that only cared about looks.

Whether you were all dolled up or in your pjs he always found you drop dead gorgeous anyway.

Once in awhile he’ll say things like “not sure why do you bother to doll up when you’re already beautiful.”

He’s just a sweetheart.

Suna Rintaro

Can’t deny that the first time he saw you he was shocked. You really caught his attention with your beauty.

But as time went by he realised that you were not only pretty on the outside but even more beautiful on the inside.

He never really believed that you would fall for him since he felt he wasn’t really that good looking compared to others on his team but it seems that he had you falling head over heels for him.

He wasn’t bothered by people staring at you because he takes pride in watching those people’s faces when they realise this pretty girl belongs to him.

He loooooves it when you show him physical affection in public like holding onto his arms, hugging him, running towards him. He doesn’t show it on his face but the thrill he gets when he looks at other people’s face gets him on.

Of course when he sees that you’re being harrassed by other guys for like a picture or your number, he’ll just stroll up to you and pull you away.

He’s lazy to start an argument with dumb people but if really necessary you can expect the most sarcastic remarks from him.

Likes it when you wear a hoodie so he can pull the hood over your head so that “you don’t attract so much attention from those flies.” Gives you eskimo kisses when you’re in your hood hehe.

When you dress up for an occasion he blushes a little at how fucking beautiful you are and how lucky he is to have you.

Takes random photos of you and posts them with no caption.

You can never feel insecure about “what if I grow old and wrinkly and am no longer pretty” when you’re with Suna.

“Good lord I dont have to protect you from those pesky dudes anymore.”

[officialleehadan]

Travel Light

Confidence Scheme

+++

“I’d like to make a small detour.”

Will was surprised by the request from Leonardo on the way back from the DoJ’s art department. The thief was settled in the passenger seat of his car, but wasn’t’ making eye contact, which suggested he was nervous about the request.

“Where to?” Will said, amiable to the request, but curious. “Grocery store?”

The joke made Leonardo chuckle as Will intended, and also made him relax. “My current safe house. As welcome as you’ve made me, I do need clothing that fits me, and I’d like my own toiletries.”

Will was pleased that Leonardo wasn’t protesting his ongoing stay with him and Vanessa, although he suspected it was as much for Will’s very potent security system as for their company. It was one thing to jump a thief in a public building. It was another to assault the home of a DoJ detective. Will even arranged surveillance on his own house, just in case someone started sniffing around.

“Give me directions or put the address into the GPS,” Wills said with a wave to the gar’s navigation. He carefully hid his excitement at getting to see where the thief lived and, presumably, worked at least some of the time. Then again, he also suspected Leonardo had at least one studio he kept secret, or leased a studio from others, to hide his tracks. He was a professional, and took covering his tracks very seriously. “Where are we going?”

“I have a flat in Little Italy.” Leonardo said, which wasn’t really a surprise considering where he was working the job that made him call Will in he first place, or his knowledge of Little Italy’s better criminal restaurants. “Don’t get too excited, Cowboy. There isn’t much there but some clothes and my bath products, and some art supplies.”

“And your tea, presumably,” Will teased, although he did accept the warning for what it was. Leonardo was too careful to let him see anywhere that meant anything to him. He might trust Will to keep him safe, but they were still on opposite sides of the law. Leonardo hadn’t stayed free and practicing his preferred flavors of crime for so long by being careless. “Speaking of, I know you do legal commissions now and then. How much will it cost me to get a portrait of Vanessa?”

“Pen or paints?”

“Whatever you prefer.”

The change of topic eased Leonardo’s tension more, and the drive, which was shorter than Will expected, delivered them to the garage of a very nice, well-secured apartment building. Leonardo keyed in a long code into the secured parking so Will could part, and then guided him to the elevators. Will wasn’t surprised to see he lived on a high floor, but preferred not to live in the penthouse. Too much attention, most likely, and harder to rent short-term, assuming the apartment was rented. It was possible Leonardo owned the condo and kept it as a safehouse.

The condo itself was elegant, but almost entirely lacking in personality. It was as much a very expensive hotel room as anything else.

Here and there were small markings of the man himself, but Leonardo wasted no time in pulling a medium-sized suitcase out of the closet. He emptied the closet first and didn’t bother folding anything on the way, before he collected a pair of books, both romance novels, Will noted with some surprise, and ducked into the bathroom. When he emerged, it was with a heavy plastic bag of his bath products, which went into the suitcase as well.

The final contribution to the suitcase, handled with far more care than the clothing or toiletries, was a neatly-packed travel-easel that boasted several drawers that rattled when Leonardo carried it over to the bed and set it carefully next to the suitcase.

Through it all, Will found himself seeking any sign of Leonardo in the condo, and found absolutely nothing. There weren't even magnets on the fridge, and when he checked inside, there was nothing but condiments and a small container of milk. The milk was bad. There was no food at all.

“Leave that stuff. I’ll have a cleaner handle it,” Leonardo said when he came out of the bedroom, dragging the suitcase with the easel carefully fastened to the top. “There are two containers of tea in he cabinet to the left of you. Grab them, will you? My hand is full.”

“I got it,” Will assured him and cleaned out the cabinet into a handy plastic bag. He noted the way Leonardo was moving, wary of his bad arm, and kept ahold of the bag when it was packed. “Do you cook at all?”

“Not here,” Leonardo said wryly and left the suitcase to do a quick sweep of the apartment. Will already knew there was nothing left to find. Leonardo, it seemed, packed very light. “But I can, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I was more judging your empty fridge.”

“I prefer takeout when I’m in a safehouse. Less opportunity for trouble at a grocery store.”

That made a good deal of sense. With takeout, he could have the deliverer leave his food outside the door, although admittedly, there was a higher chance of drugging. Presumably, that was less a concern for Leonardo, but it was a consideration.

“Fair enough,” he conceded as they made for the door. The whole stop took less than fifteen minutes. Will was impressed. No wonder he had been such a pain to try and catch. He traveled so easily, that it must take him minutes to leave a whole city, and everything in the safehouse was disposable. Even the art supplies, although it was clear Leonardo cared more for those than anything else in the apartment. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

Before Leonardo could try and take it himself, Will took the suitcase in hand and only smiled when Leonardo raised a brow. Until Leonardo was healed up, Will didn’t mind being the muscle.

it was easy. Too easy in a way that raised the hair on the back of Will’s neck.

So he was almost expecting it when a gunshot thundered through the parking garage just as he finished loading the suitcase into his trunk, and shattered the window of the car right next to Leonardo’s head.

+++

Confidence Scheme: (FULL COLLECTION)

Deliberately Careless (Subscriber Only!)

Pure Guess

Phone Trace (Subscriber Only!)

De Vinci Terrace (Subscriber Only!)

Criminal Portraiture (Subscriber Only!)

Evidence Report

Bring a Crowbar

Proposal Lasagna

Hang from a Ledge

Taken Home

Oath Named

Cops and Robbers

Smudge 

Under the Edge

Travel Light (New!)

+++

MASTERLIST

[henrygarcia]

YOU DIDN'T MEAN TO BE CRUEL. THAT DOES NOT MEAN YOU WERE KIND.

Awards After-party, post plot drop

Berkeley Estate

Warnings: Nah 🙂

Thud. Thudthudthud. A pause. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Henry used their knock so she knew it was him.

Adriana had been with Henry when everyone’s phone suddenly received a video of a man’s horrific death. How quickly their joyous celebration of her engagement going public soured at the torture and violence. In that instant, who that man was or who was behind this grand reveal didn’t matter to Henry. It was meant to send a message, and its intended recipient was unlikely to take it kindly.

The rest of the dominos falling was just a matter of time.

Henry made sure his best friend was safe first. Despite how many directions his mind was being pulled to—his daughter, his partner, his friends—he knew he couldn’t rest if he had left Adriana out hanging. Perhaps the gravity of the situation sunk in for her as well when Adriana did little to protest. Only after securing Adriana in a room did Henry venture off to find everyone else.

He had found Lara next, heart sunk at the sight of her already worse for wear. Where Henry had been so good, so used to compartmentalizing when he was working, seeing her like that pulled the rug out from under him. Was she alright? Was she hurt? Who did this to her? What happened? Questions bled into the forefront of his attention that only instinct got Henry to move Lara to a secure room before his concerns got the best of him.

A different message brought him back to his senses.

I have V. We are safe.

As much as Henry wanted to stay, he had to put his trust in Lara when she said she was okay, his trust in his colleagues to do their job, because he, too, still had work to do. Everyone would ultimately be better off if he did.

We are safe. We are safe. That was what Henry kept reminding himself as he went against every urge and call to find his daughter first. Valentina and Jessica had each other, he knew. Adriana was by herself, safe but alone. Having her stay with Lara made more sense; they both would have company to ride the ensuing chaos, and security can be more concentrated. With intense focus, Henry went straight to his best friend, dodging and avoiding the fights that littered the estate.

Thud. Thudthudthud. A pause. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Henry blocked most of the way when Adriana finally opened the door, a wave of relief rushed through his system at the sight of her just as he left her. “Lara’s secured. Valentina is with Jess. I’ll get you to Lara’s room first before I get them,” Henry quickly looped Adriana in before he began looking in the vicinity for a clear path. When the coast was clear enough, Henry kept an arm around Adriana, his body both guide and shield as they made their way back to Lara’s room.

“No! Get away from me! You can’t—help!”

The high pitched scream burned Henry’s ears. His heart made him want to approach where it came from. His head told him to avoid that situation entirely because going near would only invite them to trouble they were not supposed to be a part of. Yet, despite having traded blood on his knuckles for money in his bank account, Henry never grew to become indifferent or comfortable around the violence, because ultimately, they were always someone’s parent, child, brother—

“AVIV!”

Henry’s head immediately turned to the direction of the name. The Israeli had tore through the group of men trying to hold on to a small blond woman whom Henry assumed the screams came from. It was almost an amazing sight to see one man fight against a handful of them until the sobering reality hit: Aviv was one man fighting against a handful of Frenchmen.

“AVIV!” Another cry for the man, this time it rang right beside his ear. Adriana, witnessing the same events unfold, called out to her fiancé as she began to storm towards them. She had only made it an arm’s length away before Henry grabbed on to her, pulling her back towards him. Heart and head, often conflicting, were united over the common goal to keep Adriana safe.

The conflict between the French and the Russians had blown up to the point where boundaries grew fewer and became less and less respected as their rivalry continued, giving little regards to those who got burned along the way. Aviv’s reputation unfortunately preceded him, and he had suddenly found himself surrounded by people who could only wish to return the favor. Adriana getting involved would only give the French opportunity—fodder—to hurt Aviv even more.

He couldn’t help but remember Ceren, who had only been in the way for the French to get Jai.

Though Adriana tried to make a run for it, Henry caught up faster, his arm now around her waist to pull her back. And when her sheer force of will insisted on pushing forward, Henry lifted his best friend off her feet and onto his shoulders as he carried her farther and farther away from the scene. Henry swallowed the grunts as he absorbed Adriana’s hits and jabs to try to escape—he let her because he deserved it. For keeping her away from protecting her partner. For leaving Aviv behind. For leaving the woman behind.

None of them may forgive him, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if anything were to happen to Adriana.

[aslightaddity]

Dappy!verse lore The Penguin

Born the daughter of Gertrude Kableput after an affair with Salvatore Moroni. He was an only child as his birth was incredibly traumatic for his mother, he was born prematurely and with cerebral palsy.

His mother was fiercely protective of him. He barely left his home, when he did it was to the doctors, the store, the library, or the park but always with his mother. He was homeschooled by his mother and his neighbors as a child due to his difficulties speaking and the lack of accessibility in the Gotham public schools.

As a child he knew he was different, past his condition, he knew he was truly a boy, he had no way to communicate this, he had no word for what it was. Until he made a friend, a pen pal really, named Helix, who was like him. She too was trans and sheltered. They bonded over their letters, they shared photos, books, songs they loved, and their crazy stories.

For his seventeenth birthday he was surprised with his own set of arm crutches that his mother and neighbors had pooled together money for and was finally had more mobility that he didn’t need to rely on someone else for.

That was the same day he saw his first dead body. He finally had his own way to visit Helix on his own so he went to visit her but when he arrived at her home the doors were unlocked and in the middle of the room was the bloodied corpse of Helix. The only thing the killer left was a ransom note.

Oswald took the note and went to the worst place he knew to try and find answers, fish mooney’s club. He demanded to know if the person could be identified but Fish refused to tell him anything without assurance that he was loyal. In trade for the information Oswald began working for Fish.

As one of Fish’s employees he was given a spare tuxedo, it wasn’t as fitted as the others had them but he was greatful as he finally looked more like a man in it. He worked as a greater for the club and kept tabs on who came and went, like a look out, lord knows the security was just there for show and the heavy lifting. He also helped Fish hide items, often bringing them home and hiding their food hem under a loose floor board.

His mother wasn’t too happy that he got a job but he assured her it was a good job and that the extra money would be nice.

Over the years he slowly got closer to finding Helix’s murderer and he got closer to Fish herself. She was nice but strict, like a mother, and doted on him, saying how he looked like a little penguin in his suit. A nickname that quickly caught on. With the money he earned he was able to pay for his mother’s dream home in another, safer, city and was even able to pay for gender affirming care and better mobility aids on his own.

Then the day came when Fish called him aside to talk to him. They had found who they believed killed Helix and due to his dedication it was up to him what happened to him. Oswald had long made up his mind, he was going to kill them himself.

When the day finally came he went along with Fish and some of the other men to the man’s apartment. He was given a gun, not a nice one but by no means cheap. It was quick and slow the moment when he shot and killed the man he didn’t even bother to learn the name of.

He finally got revenge but there was more he realized his own potential. He could be just as great as Fish.

Fish realized this too and slowly he improved and became her second in command. She drunkenly told him one night that if she to die that it would all be his.

It was an uncharacteristically sunny day in Gotham when that statement would become true. While in a meeting with Falcone the all to familiar sound of a gunshot rang out. Oswald rushed in the room to find Fish bleeding out. Despite his insistence to help and try to save her, she already resigned herself to the death and reminded him that he was going to be a great man.

Usually when he returned home with blood on his hands from work he would wash it off as soon as he could but when he returned home he found himself unable to wash off her blood.

He took up Fish’s position, cozied up to Falcone despite how much he hated the man. But Falcone didn’t care about him, instead of treating him with the same respect he gave Fish, he made Oswald look after his daughter Sophia. Sophia insisted they were friends but it was very clear that they weren’t. They talked but it was mainly Sophia talking and Oswald responding in short answers.

Becoming more and more irritated with Falcone he began scouring to find others that disliked him and Moroni. Which, naturally, was a lot of people. He promised them better, to his ability he gave them better. It wasn’t long before people started denouncing Falcone or Moroni in favor of Oswald. Far too many people to just kill, far too important too.

It wasn’t long before he was confronted by both Falcone and Moroni. Who had nothing by colorful things to say to and about him, the threatened to kill him if he didn’t put an end to his growing claim on their crime empires.

Oswald wasn’t a fool. He had learned from them and so many other men like them how business worked, after-all he was doing a fine job running his own ‘business’. He knew that all men have a weak point you have to gouge, blackmail was a man’s best friend. So he told them what he had over each of them. For Moroni, it was the knowledge of his slew of affairs and illegitimate children he never cared to be responsible for and reminded Falcone that he knew every detail Sophia did. The blackmail alongside the dwindling support forced them to accept the change.

And for years it went like that, he ran the club, now the iceberg lounge, and managed his empire, both with the threats and attempts on his life that came with them. Never once being tied back to it all. He even took in an orphan that reminded him all too much of his long lost friend Helix, the boy was named Martin and he took him in as his own. But he grew paranoid as the years went by smooth.

Paranoid that someone was out to kill all that he loved, paranoid that every new face could be a threat. It quickly became a habit to blackmail and manipulate people. Afterall it was the only way he kept control. But then he met a man that defied his control, Ed Nygma. A man who when faced with blackmail pulled a knife and aimed for an artery. A man he would become so close to and soft with as the tell him his entire story. A story no one else knew in full.

In some ways he had gained the family he had long thought he lost.

[marywitchingbel]

Notes: Er, hi. This is my first time trying something in this way. This will be my first, in english, fanfic. At the moment I'm writing, is almost 4 am and well, I wanted to share a story and any mistake in my writing is because is dark and english isn't my mother language. So please just be kind with me... I promised to have some cool ideas. The story is a Jotaro x Kakyoin x Reader.

"He always was the most sweet boy I ever talk to. And one day.. Well, I just wished I could have had more time to know him better.. Never expect to be able to see him again."

Talking With Death

It all started way before I could understand what it was. Weird dreams about him. Weird memories that, maybe, never existed before. And in the middle of everything... she.

At the beginning, it was a dark and cold place. But, after some nights I could hear the songs coming from somewhere close. I could see the lights. And I just follow it. I guess I wasn't suppose to find, or discover, that place. Because when I did, I found myself trying to have more time with him.

I discover that daydreaming also takes me to that place. Well, the songs was in my mind, even after I woke up. I guess, It was suppose to mean something... right? Because in the end, it's calling me. Or at least, looks like it's calling me.

I know people treat the death of someone dear, in their own kinda way. To be clear express emotions, specially in public, was always something that I don't kinda like it. I mourning his death, for sure. Like everyone. And even more, cuz we're not supposed to talk to anyone. Everything that happen, all the trip.. It's supposed to be a secret.

You see, sharing this... all of this.. in here, Well I guess it's the best way to keep it out of my mind and help with what is and isn't happening. It's a way to keep in touch with reality, while I try to discover what it's all of this.

I'll try to be clear, but in a way only I can understand. This isn't suppose to anyone to read, anyway.

What I know for sure, until now, is that:

It HAS to be someone's who have a Stand;

I guess, it has to be someone powerful, otherwise someone close?

It can talk with the dead, or connect in some trick way people with the recent dead.

The place is an old kinda of castle with European architecture. I guess it's some abandoned ruin without many towers, at least now. Some of the interior reminds me of Bran Castle, the "Dracula's Castle" from Bram Stoker. Fair, I guess.

There's a event every night, and it's always some kind of ball, decorated with white Jasmine flowers all around. At first, I had that weird feeling when I found. The path created with the flowers keep bring me some calm energy sensation. Like someone telling me that now everything is fine.

I can see we're not alone. But I can't see their faces. Everyone else's face have a blur or some kind of mask covering. And I can't remember their faces after waking up. Have try to use Star Platinum to make a drawing, but it fails. Every single time it fails. I don't have any other faces then his..

7. It allow me to connect with Kakyoin.

And it's like he never left.

⊐⋈⊏⊐⋈⊏⊐⋈⊏⊐⋈⊏⊐⋈⊏⊐⋈⊏⊐⋈⊏⊐⋈⊏⊐⋈⊏⊐⋈⊏⊐⋈⊏⊐⋈⊏⊐⋈⊏

Jasmine

This flower perfume is an antidepressant, can relaxes the nerves and relieves headaches, while help fights insomnia and is an aphrodisiac.

The dreams started maybe in the end of November 1988. Maybe even earlier that the mind allows. Weird dreams with some know random guy from school. He's not in school anymore, he changed for some reason.

But he's still in my dreams. I talk with him during those dreams. He's sweet, the sweetest guy I ever talk to. That wasn't many, anyway. But he's one of them. With stories... stories that could only came from a another reality. Another world. One far away of me.

His way of being during those moments, took down any walls that I have built in after the years. His voice could make me fell secure and relieve. Relieve from pain... The physical and mental pain. I could talk with him about anything. And after some time, even the sorrow... the depression.. went away. I became, in a weird way, closer to him.

He said some time about some flower that would help. I guess, of course, it might have been the flower that did all of it. I mean, with the pain. It must have been the flower.

Jasmine, he told me.

And I started to dream with jasmine. Even during the day, I would catch myself feeling the perfume in the middle of my daydreams. Weird, but I didn't question it. Walking any less sad... it's good enough for me.

Then, he left.

Without a warning. Without a sound. Nothing.

Just left.

And I was alone again in my dreams. Or nightmares..

This time, holding jasmines close to a tomb. A cold and dark place, different from before. Far from our comfy little room, it all turned into a dark and cold tomb with his name on it. And I just knew, I had to do it right this time. It couldn't be like before, it had to be perfect. Flawless.

Just to be able to meet with him again. To keep talking with him... keep him somewhere safe..? I'm not sure. But I was sure enough about saving him. I don't know what kind of change I made. I guess I made some, because he's there in the next time I search for him. He had some pretty bad scars in his eyes, but he's there.

Our place also changed after that. The room, I mean, the tomb transform itself into a big old castle, like the ones in a fairy tale. But so much more cold. And dark, without life. The clothes that we had, I only took attention at them when the tomb appear, begin to change into something more... how could I describe? Fantastic. Or better, like we're using costumes.

You look like Death, he told me. You know, death... the grin reaper. But I don't fell in danger or threatened. It's like you're suppose to be here.

Everything was back to the normal. As I guess it could supposed to be. Normal.. Well, let's try again. The talk and way we treat each other was back to normal. Like he didn't had have disappear for nights, and I didn't have made a deal with the devil kinda deal to have him back.

It's calm. But I could notice that he's not like before. We talked and walk around, but he seemed more thoughtful. Sometimes lost in his own mind. During this moments, I found myself also thinking or just observing the dream. Watching the big ball occur while we sit next to it. Only been some kind of decor in the background.

It's weird to be able to see again during this dreams. It's like I never lost this ability. Well, actually it's weird to be here, he murmured one time.

I didn't try to explain. How could I? What it have to me to explain? I didn't try.

And then he appear.

Taller, big.. Like some kinda of bear. Some well come present that was invited from the woods. I never took much attention, but looks like the dream was expanding. From far away. And now, it's slowly being guide to the castle. To the ball.. To us? Well, I don't know.

I just allow it. I guess, I allow it.

He wasn't a treat.

He was just another... guest.

[dystini]

2020 Indy 500 Prank

Some pranks are done and forgotten almost instantly. Some become sagas, stretching out over days and weeks, past the actual race. Here is one of those.

The Indy 500 in 2020 was delayed until August due to the pandemic. But this did not deter the pranks from happening. The Off Track with Hinch and Rossi episode where this was discussed is not easily available anymore but it was a good listen.

August 19, 2020 Alex Rossi, despite having a bus, does not sleep at the track except for the night before the Indy 500 and perhaps the night before qualifying. He’s said he prefers to sleep in his bed at home. This fateful morning, he was sent a pic of his bus.

He went PitFit, the gym many drivers use, and immediately accused James Hinchcliffe of being involved, going so far as to demand Hinch’s phone so search his texts for evidence. He found nothing.

As per Hinch:

“I’m standing in the gym, minding my own business, and Alex walks up in right behind me, gets really close into my ear and just goes “You’re fucking dead,” said Hinchcliffe, who needed “the better part of an hour” to clear his name. His innocence sufficiently was proved after allowing Rossi to look at various text conversations with Andretti Autosport employees.

“He was like an angry girlfriend,” Hinchcliffe said with a laugh. “‘Show me your phone!'”

With Alex’s tweet, news of the prank had spread wide and far, and it was a huge topic of conversation, both online and in interviews at the track. With Hinch cleared, Conor Daly was the next prime suspect, along with Colton Herta. Alex told all of the crew members (and likely anyone else who would listen) that he suspected them. This caused Conor to panic and he called Colton, not knowing that Alex was with Colton and listening on speakerphone. The conversation went as follows.

"Aw dude, how'd he find out," Daly asked Herta. "He knows it was us."

"Yeah, man," Herta replied. "He came into the engineering room and he looked right at me and said he knew it was us. And I didn't know what to say."

"Well, did you tell him?" Daly asked Herta.

"Nah man," Herta said. "But I'm not a very good actor."

Alex, now knowing that Conor was his target, attempted to procure Conor’s keys.

Rossi learned Daly would be on a date that night but didn’t know the woman or have her number. They talked after he reached her via an Instagram direct message, but she was unable to find Daly’s keys.

So Rossi went to the restaurant where Daly and his date had dinner and received permission from the parking valet (who was a friend) to search Daly’s Tahoe — fruitlessly — for the keys.

Rossi later learned the keys were in Daly’s right front pocket.

“The moral of the story was I couldn’t get the bus keys,” Rossi said. “I did everything I possibly could and couldn’t make it work.”

Conor also hid his golf cart somewhere on the grounds of IMS, no doubt aided by his stepfather, track President, Doug Boles.

August 22, 2020

Alex attempted his revenge, aided by Colton. This also failed.

August 27, 2020.

Conor attempted to defend himself with this tweet.

Colton denied involvement...

and went on to threaten to release Conor’s phone number.

Someone else, in a tweet now deleted, DID release Conor’s phone number.

The next day, Tim Durham, producer of Off Track with Hinch and Rossi decided to join in, aided by others, releasing the first few numbers of Colton’s social security number. This was not as dire as it sounds as those numbers are based on location and year of birth and apply to millions of people and can be deduced by knowing those two pieces of information, which for Colton, is public knowledge. It’s the last few digits that are the true identifiers so Colton was never in any real danger of identity theft as Tim and the others likely did not even know the rest of the digits.

The prank faded into the mist at this point, nearly forgotten until 2022, when Alex finally got his revenge. But that is another story.

[walkingstackofbooks]

DS9 4x20 The Muse thoughts (I’m re-watching, so beware spoilers for future episodes!) [12 July ‘23]

I had no idea Jake's mind-nomming happened in the same episode as the Lwxana/Odo marriage - okay let's gooo!

"I won't let him do it, Odo." "Who? What?" I guess being telepathic, she might forget she actually has to start from the beginning of a story and explain it rather than have people pick up from what she's thinking?

This alien talks in the weirdest way. I'm glad Jake starts out uneasy, at least.

I hate when Jake picks something over spending time with his dad. Like, it checks out, he *is* a teenager, but Sisko's always so disappointed 😭

"What do you want me to do about it?" "Either cheer her up or get her to leave." Love how Quark thinks Odo could cheer her up rather than just be security getting her to leave.

Oh!! At Quark's request Odo does go and give up his routine and free time to make her happier :3 I do love these two.

Odo's war with himself over being unpleasant to ward her off from his quarters but also not wanting to. :3

"Major Kira and First Minister Shakaar are involved now." "How sad." "Not at all. I'm happy for her." For most of the time Odo is actually such a good bro. I don't like the framing later on that he somehow 'deserves' Kira just because he likes her, but he really is so respectful.

"Well, just don't go do what I did. Look for someone to fix your broken heart then end up pregnant and on the run." "I don't think there's too much danger of that happening." His little laugh. I am sad he and Lwxana couldn't be together.

"[I feel] Like a changeling who's had to hold his shape too long." It's sweet that she puts it in understandable terms, I think?

"Lwxana? Your replicator isn't really broken, is it?" Aww it took you that long? Call yourself a detective XD

"I'm sorry if I made you feel unwelcome." You literally did less to make her feel unwelcome than you do to any other person who comes your way though!

Oh damn I had paused this halfway through and once again forgot Jake's storyline was the other half of this episode!

Why do I feel like that pen should write in Jake's blood?

This alien is so creepy and I hate this so so soooo much

Haha! Odo laughing! I love how much they enjoy each other's time

Why not lie to Lwxana's husband, and tell him that she's not here??

IT'S ODO'S IDEA TO GET MARRIED??? I HAD THOUGHT IT WOULD BE LWAXANA! HE IS THE SWEETEST

Odo's so tender as he helps her up to the stage thing!

Miles' uncertain look at "add her to what is mine"

Quark's wistful sigh at Odo's "I didn't need anyone else."

"The truth is, I was ashamed of what I was, afraid that if people saw how truly different I was they would recoil from me." *camera pans to Julian* OH THESE TWO GIVE ME FEELINGS. They would just have the ability to relate so hard to each other! Tell me that that quote couldn't belong to Julian in DBIP.

"The day I met her is the day I stopped being alone." *Kira looks down* Oh, I wonder what she's feeling about that. Because she definitely thought they were good friends.

I am still surprised the husband doesn't fight harder. All he needs to do is doubt it. I guess some part of him really did love Lwxana?

"What can I say? I'm a hopeless romantic!" Really, Quark? Sure.

"You know, for a minute there, I really believed you wanted to marry me." Oh, he DID.

"Orange juice." Sometimes Jake does things that make me remember how young he is. (Even though I'd be ordering apple juice all the time though... But everyone else usually guess got tea or coffee or alcohol.)

At least Jake's in a public place when he collapses. Glad he didn't go back to his quarters.

"He was the youngest I ever found. So eager, ready to give everything he had in one great burst." Apart from he hadn't agreed to give everything, he didn't know that was what you were doing and he wouldn't have consented if he had!

"You really should stay." "I'll miss you, too." Ohhh. Lwxana's ability to cut to what Odo is feeling.

"I could stay, try to make you fall in love with me, but we both know that won't happen. Then I'd end up resenting you, and our friendship is far too important for me to let that happen." I love these two so much though ❤️❤️

"The dialogue is sharp, the story's involving, the characters are real. The spelling is terrible. I especially liked the father." SISKO :3 I love his dad-ing

"All you need to do is learn to find them by yourself." Sisko is such a wonderful dad. And so good at advice and saying the right thing!

Anslem - he wrote that in the alternate timeline where Sisko dies? But on his own? I guess in that timeline, at this point was he too sad for the alien to find him an alluring target? I like how we know it's his - and I'm guessing Sisko does too from his memories of that timeline. :3

[anonymousdandelion]

B’Chol Dor VaDor

So, today’s writing prompt from @flashfictionfridayofficial was “you’re not alone.”

I could only only think of one thing, and almost opted not to share the result. But here it is. Be aware that this is heavier and... rawer than my usual subject matter (although, I hope, also ultimately hopeful), and it is written in the context of rising antisemitism in the US and globally. It is particularly written in the context of the “Day of Hate” which Neo-Nazi groups are threatening for tomorrow.

It is also written in the context of a long, long history of suffering, and the past and present of a rich community that has survived and continues to survive through and despite all those who try to stop us.

Esther went to sleep that Friday night expecting to have nightmares. The subject that had hung over her all day — that she’d seen in the news first thing in the morning after washing her hands, and that had dominated discussion at the dinner table that evening, looming dark and ugly behind the flickering glow of the candles, underpinning her indecision about what to do the following day — seemed all but tailored to that effect.

Her anticipation proved well-founded.

They stormed through the synagogue, in her dream, armed with spraypaint and swastikas and guns. Stormed at her, her friends, her family…

She lost sight of them in the chaos and somehow ended up at the public library. There, Esther fled to the familiar children’s area, sure she’d blend in there or all places, with people all around and the safety and security she’d always felt amongst the books.

But even there, they came at her from behind the bookshelves, monsters that, even in dreaming, were terrifyingly human and real. The other library patrons turned away, said nothing, did nothing, until they eventually faded away entirely. The library backdrop faded, too. And then it was just her and them, caught in a dark, amorphous room with no escape.

Dirty Jew, they said to her, and hurled other slurs she’d never even heard spoken aloud. They hurled worse things, too, and there was no one who cared, absolutely no one…

She woke, heart pounding.

Or thought she did, until she looked around her and saw, lining the walls of her own bedroom… people. Several people. Some faces she knew, though she had seen them only long ago, or only in peeling pictures in old albums. Others Esther had never seen, yet felt she knew anyway.

Family, her heart sang, as much as it had cried Danger not long before.

I’m scared, she told the gathered people, though she knew it was not they that frightened her. I’m scared.

I know, Estele, said a rough, caring voice that Esther had last heard in a hospice room five years before. And one of the women came forward; pinched her cheek in the way that had always made Esther squirm. I was scared, too, zisele, when they came for us in the old country. Bubbie gestured at the group, and in the logicless way of dream-knowledge, Esther knew they were generations upon generations of her ancestors. We were all scared.

B’chol dor vador, said another voice from someone in the ring, in rhythm reminiscent of a familiar tune. Omdim aleinu v’chaloteinu…

Moishe! someone scolded him, when he stopped. You have to finish the verse! The last line is the most important part!

It’s not the part that’s relevant right now, argued another person.

Nu, I was going to get to it in a minute! Moishe complained, but someone else called out at the same time, What are you talking about? Of course it’s relevant! It’s always relevant! It’s the whole point!

It—

And the assembly in Esther’s dream-bedroom burst into energetic bickering; a sort of chaos and conflict completely different from the sort that had tormented the nightmare.

This chaos felt like home.

Incredibly, and with immense relief at the feeling, she found herself laughing.

Well, said her Bubbie wryly, we were supposed to give you a pep talk. To remind you you’re not alone. That our people have been through this in the past, that we got through it every time and that we will again. But—

Esther hugged her, and dream or no dream, it felt like a hug.

I mean it, Bubbie said sternly, squeezing back. You aren’t alone. And that’s true in the living world, too. Our community. They may come for us, may catch some of us… but always we outlive them in the end. They won’t win…

…There was sunlight on their faces, bright and insistent, and Esther awoke.

She lay in bed a minute, reflecting on her night and the vague images of dreams already flowing quietly away from her waking memory.

Then she said modah ani, rose, got dressed, and went to shul with head held high, to join her community in facing whatever the day might hold.

Then she said modah ani, rose, got dressed, and went to shul with head held high, to join her community in facing whatever the day might hold.

Then she said modah ani, rose, got dressed, and went to shul with head held high, to join her community in facing whatever the day might hold.

[concerningwolves]

The plot chickens.

(In other words: I thought I'd poke a bit deeper into this as my warmup before I started work this morning and now I'm in a rabbit hole involving numerous companies that use some variation of the name "Whats On" and a possible case of using someone else's identity for a scam.)

This started with an email from someone who signed off as "James Kent", who wanted the contact details for "whoever runs the marketing department for your Proofreading Services". That was the first major red flag (or at least a faintly pastel red flag), because I'm clearly a freelancing individual; it felt like someone trying too hard to appear professional. Still, I replied from my work email to say that I was an individual and dealt with all queries myself. In response, this James Kent told me that he was working on a publication called The National Student Guide, which would be distributed nationwide to students all over the UK. He made an impassioned case for students needing to use proofreading services in order to secure better grades, and then laid out the real kicker: for the "reduced price" of £275 or "just" £180, I could have either a half or quarter page in this publication dedicated to my services.

The red flags immediately multiplied turned vibrant crimson.

To summarise some of the biggest ones:

the email domain, whatson.com.uk – there are several companies and publications who use "What's on" as part of their name, but none of the ones I found use that specific web address.

the fact that he even reached out to me first to offer for me to pay money to him, which is a highly unorthodox practise.

The email had attached a PDF "Art spec", which used the logo from WhatsOn.guide, and covers from previous issues of WhatsOn's Student Guide (note that "National" isn't in the title).

The art spec also gave a PO box in Birmingham as the physical address. The actual WhatsOn.guide has a physical address in Birmingham, but it is definitely not a PO box.

The emphasis on the price being reduced. Scammers will often create urgency by hinting at unmissable offers or price reductions.

I was going to reply and ask for some time to think, which is typically a good litmus test for a scam (or just for a shitty opportunity/client) because scammers will apply time pressure. but then i decided, actually, let's see if we can find a record of this "James Kent" who sent me the email.

And guess what? There is a James Kent on LinkedIn. Two things immediately stood out to me, though:

He works for Whats on Group and not WhatsOn.guide, the company whose logo was used in the materials sent to me. Whats On Group is an internet consultancy and publisher based in Bristol. They seem relatively small – too small, I imagine, to produce the "350,000 copies" that my email correspondent boasted for The National Student Guide – and not affiliated with WhatsOn.guide, at least not as far as I can tell.

This James Kent is an Advertising Sales Executive. The James Kent who emailed me gave his title as "Media and Marketing Manager" in the footer of his email.

It's all pretty fishy. My best guess right now is that someone is trying to scam freelancers by using the well-known brand name and logo of WhatsOn, and they chose to use the name "James Kent" in the knowledge that if anyone googled that name, an actual James Kent who works at a "What's on" place would show up. That, or I've been emailed by the real James Kent who is for some reason doing some work for WhatsOn, and has rather shoddy business practises.

I've reached out to WhatsOn.guide and given them a quick outline of the situation, so it'll be interesting to see what they say. In the meantime I think I'll ask this supposed Mr Kent for a bit more information and see how whatever he says lines up with what I've found out.

I've had an email from someone claiming to be writing a guide for students in an official capacity and offering to advertise my services in there for either £180 (quarter page) or £275 (half page) and honestly all my alarm bells are ringing because a search online has turned up nothing for "National Student Guide", and that is an extraordinary amount of money to pay out for the privilege of having an advert anywhere. I'm going to probe the guy a bit with some careful questions on the slim chance this is legit – and if it's not, it'll be an interesting exercise in spotting scams.

[harryscherrypie]

the reader being a touchy subject in Harry and Olivia's relationship, and after they break up, Harry takes his new girlfriend (y/n) to the dwd premiere. Can you write this, bestie?

Not just a drunken mistake

Thank you so much for the request, it was really fun writing this

Summary: You and Harry met on the tour, you grew closer while his relationship with Olivia grew colder 

WORD COUNT: 3K

Warnings: mentions of cheating, alcohol, getting drunk,

If you like this, please like and reblog, it would help very much

And if someone has a request or an idea for a fic, please let me know it would really help.

-----

The rain patted down the windows of your apartment as you sat on your couch, trying to concentrate on the book in your hand. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem but these past few days, your mind was somewhere else. A few days ago, just a day after the tour ended, Harry left to see Olivia in LA and break up with her.

You knew it was a long time coming, with the two of them leading very different lifestyles. While Harry went on tour and was never settled down in one place, Olivia wanted to stay home with her kids, which drew a line between them. She couldn’t afford to travel all the time, wanting t to have some stability in her children’s lives. Harry of course understood that, but when she started to ask him to drop career opportunities in order to stay at her place for a while, their relationship went significantly downhill.

In May, Harry went back to London for the European leg of LOT but this time, Olivia didn’t follow. That was when the two of you met.

Back in 2020, when the talks of a second tour were just rumors, you got asked by Harry’s team to come and help out on the European leg. You wouldn’t have a perfectly specific job, but the closest it would get to was an assistant to Harry, Lambert, and the makeup team. ‘They need all the hands they can get', was the response of Harry’s manager when he described what your job would include.

You officially met Harry for the first time a few weeks earlier than you should’ve. Your job was supposed to start with the first show in Glasgow, but then the announcement for One Night Only in London came and they called you to come and help with that one too. Not that you minded, the extra money would be nice and Harry’s team paid generously.

You never worked for a celebrity that big and you didn’t know what to expect. You heard from a lot of people that the very famous people were a pain in the ass to work with. They were out of touch with reality, only caring about themselves, money, and their image in the public’s eyes. You quickly found out that Harry was far from that.

On May 24 at 7 am sharp, you got into the London area where the One night only would take place. You got through the security and looked around the lobby, trying to find someone who would take you to see someone in charge. What you didn’t expect to see was Harry Styles himself, leaning against the pillar smiling at you.

He waved over at you and introduced himself with a soft smile. Standing next to him, you felt overdressed. He was wearing grey sweatpants and a pleasing hoodie, with a colorful clip in his hair. You were pretty sure you could go into a bar with your outfit. A black dress with a denim jacket over your shoulders contrasted with his very comfortable look.

You talked for a bit before he led you into a room where you could put down your stuff and pulled you to meet everyone on the team like an excited little puppy.

Since then, you only became closer, maybe even too close. You were in Dublin when you almost took things too far.

The show went great that night. The audience was amazing and the atmosphere in the area was perfect. But you could see that Harry wasn’t himself that day. Just before he went to the stage, he called Olivia and they had a big fight on the phone. You didn’t know what it was about, but you could see that he was extremely upset. His bottom lip was trembling, hair messy from his fingers tugging at it from frustration and his eyes were blown out, swimming with tears.

His band immediately crowded around him, trying to calm him down. All you wanted to do was hug him but you knew it probably wasn’t your place, considering you knew each other for only about 2 months. You were pretty sure he whispered out something about canceling but Sarah and Mitch talked him out of it.

You wanted to talk to him after the show but he immediately left the arena and rushed to his hotel. You were pretty bummed out, mainly because you already missed your after-show talks when you helped him to untangle his earpiece wires from around him.

Sluggishly, you finished all of your work and took a car to the hotel with some makeup artists. You were lucky enough to score a hotel room alone and not with some other people, mainly because they were all very chatty and liked to talk until the early hours of the morning.

You had a quick shower and hopped into the crisp hotel sheets just 30 minutes after you stepped into your hotel room. You were about to take out a book when a loud knock on your door made you jump. You hopped out of the bed and opened the door, just to see Harry in his pajamas and two bottles of wine. You let him in silently and he walked in. He placed the bottles on the bedside table and turned around to face you.

“I got you your favorite,” he nodded towards the bottle and you nodded before you carefully stepped towards him.

“You want to talk about it?” You sat down on your bed and patted the space beside you.

“Just had an argument with Olivia, did you know I am an incredibly selfish and unattentive boyfriend?” He laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean that,” you mumbled and laid down beside him and looked up at the ceiling too.

“I know, she was just angry, it’s just getting extremely old, she always says this when I clearly told her that I will most likely prioritize my career in the next year or two,” he sighed out.

“I’m sure you will figure it out, let’s get drunk instead,” you changed the conversation and sat up to take the wine bottles into your hands.

“Okay, that sounds better than anything else right now,” he chuckled and opened up the bottles.

You both got wine drunk that night. Just 3 hours later, both of the bottles were almost gone and you laid in your bed, giggling at some stupid joke Harry thought of at that moment.

“You are funny, did anyone ever tell you?” You wheezed out, wiping the tears away from your cheeks.

“I’ve been told a few times,” Harry answered, also laughing and holding his stomach which hurt from the laughter.

When you stopped laughing, you sat up, taking another sip of the wine, before you plopped back onto the bed.

“The headache tomorrow is going to be the worst,” you groaned out.

“Yeah, don’t remind me, I’m so glad I don’t have a show tomorrow, otherwise I would be dead,” Harry chuckled. He turned around to lay on his side, facing you with his whole body.

You started at the ceiling for a few seconds longer, before his stare became too intense.

“Do I have something on my face?” You teased as you turned to look at him.

“No, just admiring, you have a very beautiful face,” he smiled and swiped his pointer finger against your jaw.

Your whole face went slack with the unexpected touch and your mouth opened up in shock.

“Never really noticed until now,” he continued to praise the way your face looks, the way your body is structured in drunken slurs as he continued to get closer and closer to your face. You only stared up at him paralyzed and not knowing what to do.

If he were single, you would’ve already jumped his bones. But he wasn’t. He was in a relationship and even if it wasn’t going very well, you didn’t want to be the reason for their break up if they still had a chance to makeup, you didn’t want to be a drunken mistake.

“Harry stop, we shouldn’t do this,” you pulled back and he immediately sat up.

”I am so sorry (Y/n), I don’t know what came over me I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable,” he apologized frantically as his hands tugged at the roots of his hair.

“No, don’t apologize, I’m going to be honest with you, I won’t act like I don’t have any feelings for you because I do, but it’s not fair to any of us, we are both drunk and I don’t want to be your drunken mistake, ” you gently took his hand into yours and looked him in the eyes.

He nodded slowly and rubbed his face with the hand you weren’t holding.

“It wouldn’t be a drunken mistake, I’ve had these feelings for about a month, but it’s nothing like I ever felt before, and I’m scared, I don’t know what to do,” He looked up at you with a clueless look on his face.

“Come here,” you opened your arms and he crawled over to you, sitting on your lap with his face in your neck.

“How about we just sleep, we can talk tomorrow,” you hesitantly kissed the side of his head and pulled a blanket over the two of you.

You dreaded the next morning, you were scared that he would tell you that the things he told you weren’t true, that it was the alcohol speaking. You were ready for the heartbreak but it never came. You woke up in the same position you fell asleep in, still wrapped up in the blanket cocoon.

You talked. About what happened the night before, about what you felt towards each other, about what you wanted to happen in the future.

After that day, you only got closer, always touching, laughing, and cuddling whenever got the time. At first, you tried to act civil around people but soon stopped caring and acted like a couple even in public. This also caught the attention of fans and paparazzi alike, who captured a picture of the two of you being cozy on a beach in Lisbon a day after the tour ended.

When you finally had some free time, instead of going back to London immediately, you decided to stay in Lisbon for one extra day and enjoy the time you had left together.

You were hanging out at the beach, laying on the scratchy towels you bought in some random souvenir shop, and talked. You didn’t even go into the water, you just laid at the beach the whole day, sleeping, reading, and talking.

“Can you get my back please?” You asked and shoved a sunscreen bottle into Harry’s hand. You turned around so your back could face him and untied the back of your top piece of swimsuit.

“Well, you asked nicely so,” Harry teased and poured some sunscreen into his hand, not wanting to shock you by pouring the liquid immediately on your back.

He rubbed the sunscreen into your back and sometimes pinching your sides, making you jump and squeal.

You were so wrapped up in each other you didn’t even hear the sound of camera shutters quite close to the place you were sitting at.

It didn’t take long for the pictures to appear online, in just a few hours, Harry was trending on Twitter, and tabloids were writing about a ‘mysterious woman’ and how ‘Harry is back to his womanizer ways’. You tried not to get upset, but it was incredibly difficult. You didn’t care what they said about you, they constantly put Harry down which was something that bothered you.

You left Lisbon that day and Harry asked you to stay at his place. You agreed, not wanting to be away from him. When you got back to London and Harry turned off the airplane mode, he had countless missed calls from Olivia, probably wanting to know what was going on.

You got to his place and he immediately closed himself in his office and called Olivia. You stayed in the living room, carefully looking over the many photos on his shelves.

It was quiet for about 10 minutes before you heard Harry’s voice arguing from the other room. You knew you shouldn’t pry, but you couldn’t help yourself. You tiptoed in the direction of his voice until you found yourself standing in front of his closed office door. You didn’t have to put your ear to the door to hear what he was saying.

“No, do you really think I would do that? I know our relationship has been shit for a while but I wouldn’t cheat, you know where this conversation is heading, give me 2 days, I’ll come to LA and we’ll figure this out, I’ll book my flight when we hang up,”

“Okay, yeah, bye,” He hung up and sighed loudly. You listened to him move around in circles around his office before you found the courage to knock.

“Hey, you okay?” You called out softly. Harry nodded wordlessly and looked up at you.

“I need to go to the states, end everything in person and not over the phone, I’m sorry,”

“Hey, don’t apologize, I understand, when do you want to leave?”

“As soon as possible,”

------

That was 4 days ago. Because of the time zones, you didn’t have much time to talk. This was the longest the two of you went without seeing each other since you first started working together.

You knew he was supposed to come back tonight, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. You tried to focus on many different things, but all you could focus on was the clock hung in Harry’s kitchen.

You sighed defeated, finally giving up and closing the book. You got up from the couch and went into the kitchen to make yourself another cup of tea. You plopped the tea bag into the mug and turned off the boiler when you heard the sound of keys wiggling in the lock of the front door.

You heard Harry come in and close the door behind him. He shrugged off his shoes, and jacket and walked into the kitchen to be greeted by the sight of you sitting on the counter. ”Hello love,” he greeted and walked closer to you. He found his place between your thighs and kissed your cheek as a greeting.

“Hey, how was the flight, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am a single man again,” he chuckled and hopefully looked into your eyes.

“Well, I hope you didn’t get used to this title, because I am planning to take it away from you,” You joked and he shook his head before he took your face in his hands and pulled you closer.

“Can I kiss you now? No girlfriend, no wine this time,” He smiled and you nodded.

“Please do,” you whispered.

Harry leaned in all the way and connected your lips in a soft kiss. Both of you sighed out in relief, finally feeling each other’s breath closer than ever before.

“Be my girlfriend?”

“Sure,”

-----

“You know how I told you that I have to go the Don’t worry Darling with Olivia?” Harry asked you randomly.

It was just a month before the premiere and he had a red carpet for the movie coming up very soon. When he went to LA, he successfully broke up with Olivia. She too felt that they both wanted something else from the relationship and imagined it very differently.

They broke up peacefully, agreeing to stay friends which didn’t make Olivia’s manager very happy. While they were together, their relationship was highly marketable for the movie. But now, they probably wouldn’t even go to the red carpet together.

Her manager saw the Lisbon pictures on Twitter and knew the pair would get together soon. Harry never looked so in love from what he’s seen.

He dragged Harry and his manager into a meeting and suggested that Olivia and Harry fake relationships until the movie premiere. Everyone disagreed but he kept pushing and somehow won.

Now, just a few weeks before the premiere, Harry was more than sure that he wanted to go to the premiere with you. He asked Jeff if he could do something but Jeff didn’t know what to do.

“Yes I remember, what is it?” You asked, looking up from your computer.

“I wanted to go with you, I got a Gucci dress made for you and it matches my outfit and everything,”

“You did what?” you gasped out.

“A matching dress,”

“Harry I am flattered but you know we can't go together, you have to go with Olivia,” you sighed.

“I called her last night, to see if I can do anything about it and she also wants to take someone else, so if we both do that, there won’t be any problems,” He explained.

“Look, I would love to go with you, if you get an ‘okay’ from her and won’t get into trouble, I would love to go,” you replied and Harry grinned at you.

“Just you wait and see. In a month, you will be ready for the premiere,”

“We’ll see about that,”

“What did I tell you, I will figure it out,” Harry teased as he looked outside of the car. You on the other hand weren’t in the mood for laughing. When you told Harry you would go to the premiere with him, you didn’t think he would actually go through with his plan and take you with him.

You could already see the flashing lights from down the street and your breathing quickened. You clasped Harry’s hand in yours as you tried to calm down. Harry looked at you worried.

“Baby if you really don’t want to go you don’t have to, you can leave with the car and wait for me at home, but it would mean the world to me if you went with me,” He brushed a few out of place pieces of hair in place and stroked your cheek.

“If I go will you rub my feet? They are already killing me,”

“Of course baby, of course,” Harry kissed your lips gently and looked back outside.

The car slowed down and stopped right in front of the red carpet surrounded by fans, interviewers, and paparazzi.

“Ready?” Harry asked

“Yes,”

Harry opened the door and the deafening sound of people outside hit you like a truck. He stepped out of the car and turned to face you with his arm stretched out.

You smiled at him, took his hand, and stepped out of the car.

------

A/n - I would like to say that I don't have anything against Olivia and I probably showed her as a not really good person in the relationship, it's simply for the fic, which was requested.

Okayy, thank you for reading this, hope you enjoyed and I would also like to thank you for 400 followers, it's incredible, thank you again.

I would also really appreciate your feedback, and reblog, so please... it would make me happy.

Take care <3

[deanstead]

Somebody’s Watching

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Request by danipearl16: Request- Jay has a girlfriend that nobody knows about and then they get a case where she’s being stalked and her stalker is killings women that seem to remind him of her and it turns out to be her ex-boyfriend from high school and Jay starts going downhill a little bit because he’s worried about her. Also his girlfriend is more on the younger than his side by 7 years

Word Count: 4,365

Warnings: cursing, mention of sexual assault/misconduct (non-graphic), mention of non-con touching, stalking, minor OC death, mention of injury, angst, fluff

A/N: Please beware of the triggers before you continue reading! I changed some parts to fit into the storyline but I still hope you like what I did with it! I’m pretty excited about this fic so I really really hope yall will like it! It’s my first time writing such a detailed case in so I hope it turned out well? Please hit me up and let me know what you think! Love yall!

---

You looked up from where you were sprawled on the couch, fiddling with your phone. Jay was sitting at the table, a small frown across his face as he pored over case notes.

Jay usually didn’t bring his work home with him but they’d just closed a big case and he had spent a whole week in the district. So instead of spending more time there to finish the paperwork, Jay had opted to bring it home instead.

You smiled to yourself just as Jay looked up. “Sorry babe.” He said, making a little face at the papers strewn across the table.

Chuckling, you climbed off the couch and moved towards him. You stood behind him, looping your arms around his shoulders, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I missed you.” You whispered.

Jay turned slightly, tugging you so that you now landed in his lap.

“Missed you too.” He whispered, smiling as one of his arms snaked around your waist, holding you securely to him, another hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “Sorry I’ve been busy.”

You shook your head, smiling.

You’d been dating for a while but no one else knew. Both of you had agreed to keep it on the down low, partly because of your age difference. Even though you had agreed you’d keep it quiet at least for the first few months, it had been a lot more than that and it had been going so well that you didn’t really want to purposefully invite anyone into this world that Jay and you had created for yourselves. Rather than keeping it a secret, you guys just hadn’t made the effort to tell anyone or publicize it to the world. This also meant that when he was stuck at the district, you didn’t get to see him but on such days, Jay was always mindful about checking in.

“What’s on your mind?” Jay asked.

“Just thinking I’m lucky to have you.” You responded, leaning in to try to give him a hug. Instead, Jay stroked your cheek and pressed his lips to yours. “Now, I really need to finish this.”

You laughed. “Go forth.”

---

Jay had taken a few well-deserved days of furlough, which he had mostly spent curled up with you. You didn’t have any complaints, it had been just what you both needed.

But Intelligence couldn’t catch a break. It was Jay’s first day back and now, he was already walking up to a crime scene.

Jay pushed the yellow crime scene tape upwards, letting Hailey walk through ahead of him before following behind her.

“What do we have?” Jay asked, approaching the spot where Adam and Kim were standing.

Kim turned. “Kate Whitewood, 22, stabbed multiple times.”

“She’s not in the system. No priors, nothing.” Adam added.

“No belongings on her?” Voight asked, looking around.

Adam shook his head. Jay frowned. “There’s barely any blood here.”

Kevin nodded, jogging forward to join them. “This is probably just the dump site. She must have been killed elsewhere.”

Hailey stood from where she had bent to examine the body. “She has defensive wounds on her. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find skin under her fingernails.”

Jay bent forward slightly. “What are those? Marks around her neck? We need to get her to the ME to get the exact cause of death.”

“Kim, bag her hands and get forensics to run a deluxe.” Voight said, as Kim nodded.

“My CI works this street, let me see what I can find out.” Jay said, turning away.

---

“So Kate was last seen at this bar right in town.” Hailey said, walking in and sticking a screenshot onto the board, which showed a camera view of the street outside the bar.

Kate could be seen on the image, her head turned slightly as she waved to someone, a man standing by her side. Hailey tapped the image.

“We can’t find this guy. His face is always turned away from the camera, facial recognition is out.”

Voight nodded. “Jay, have you heard from your CI?”

Jay nodded, resting slightly against Hailey’s desk, his arms crossed in front of him. “My guy says there haven’t been any deals going down. I think we can rule out drugs or gangs. Streets have been quiet ever since that big bust we did last month.”

“It was 28 degrees out last night, ME couldn’t find the exact time of death. But there were signs she was raped, signs of asphyxiation and five penetration wounds from a knife.” Kevin said, opening the file he had gotten from the medical examiner earlier.

Voight turned to Kim. “Who was she?”

Kim sighed. “Kate was a hard worker, she had just started her job as a receptionist at a dentist’s office in South Loop. Dad’s MIA, Mum’s remarried and relocated to New York so she’s living on her own.”

“Have we found who she was with last night?”

Adam nodded. “I���ve gone through her phone. Looks like she was meeting her friend Grace at the club last night.”

“We need to talk to her. I want to know about the last day of Kate’s life. Timeline. Check all sex offenders in the area. Comb her social media. Let’s go.” Voight instructed.

---

Jay knocked on the main door, glancing sideways at Hailey. The door swung open.

“Grace Archer? I’m Detective Upton, this is Detective Halstead, can we come in?” Hailey asked.

She furrowed her brows. “What’s this about?”

“You’re friends with Kate Whitewood?” Hailey asked, without directly answering her question. She nodded and without missing a beat, Hailey continued, “We need to ask you a few questions about last night.”

Grace stepped back to let them in, her face falling as she led them to the sitting room.

“I heard from her parents. The whole thing’s horrible.” Grace whispered, wrapping her hands around herself.

“Can you tell us what you remember?” Jay asked.

Grace looked up. “Kate’s boyfriend had broken up with her a few months ago, so I took her out. She needed to get out again.”

“Were you approached by anyone?” Hailey asked.

“Several.” She answered.

“Anyone that stood out?”

Grace paused, trying to recall. “Kate didn’t even really want to go. She barely looked at the guys… except…”

Hailey sat up a little. “There must have been something about this guy that she left with, something unique. We have a photo of him on the surveillance tape. Flashy?”

Grace nodded, “Yeah, he had this like... attitude… like he was hitting on us but he was making a joke of it at the same time.” She paused. “The last thing she told me was that she had a great time… I shouldn’t have forced her to come out.”

“This isn’t your fault.” Hailey leaned over and patted Grace comfortingly on the arm. “Thanks for talking to us. Please call us if you think of anything else.”

As Jay walked out of Grace’s house with Hailey, he looked at his partner. “This guy’s confident, he’s smooth and it doesn’t look like he knew Kate or Grace.”

---

For the rest of the day, the team had almost combed through the whole of Kate’s whereabouts before she had disappeared and all they had was a big fat nothing.

Jay typed a quick text to you to let you know that he wasn’t going to be able to come over tonight.

You read the text, smiling a little. Jay was busy but it was cute that he always kept you informed. You stopped walking, typing back a reply to tell him it was okay and to do what he had to do, before you kept her phone back into your pocket.

You walked along the street, the same street you walked on every night, frowning a little. You turned around, scanning the street behind you.

You could swear that it was like someone was watching you, or following you. But the street was empty. This wasn’t the first time you had had this feeling - like the little hairs on the back of your neck were standing but you had nothing to back up this feeling you had.

Holding your bag tighter against you, you pushed yourself forward, quickening your footsteps, only letting up as you passed the safety of your apartment building’s front door.

As you passed the threshold of your apartment and closed the door behind you, you pulled out your phone, staring at it for a while. Part of you wanted to call Jay, to hear his voice and have him tell you that you were just tired, imagining things. But the rational part of your brain convinced yourself that everything was okay, reminding you that Jay was so busy and deep in a case, he really shouldn’t have to worry about you.

Ultimately, you put your phone on the counter, chuckling at yourself. Maybe you really were too tired.

---

By the next morning, another body had turned up, not two streets away from the first dump site.

Jay felt an uneasy feeling spread in the pit of his stomach as he stared at the photo of the new victim that was already up on the board. They had a serial killer in Chicago and this guy’s victim type had physical characteristics that were scarily similar to you.

“Jay.” Hailey broke Jay out of his thoughts. “Emma Green, 23, strangulation marks, six stab wounds.”

Jay turned to his partner and nodded. “Did they go to the same club?”

Hailey handed Jay a file. “No, but look at what we picked up on the surveillance camera.” Jay opened the file, studying the photo.

“This is our guy isn’t it?” He pointed at a male figure who was standing next to their second victim, his face still hidden from the camera, wearing a plain cap.

“Hey guys, I might have found a link.” Kim said, walking in. “I checked the employee records and there’s a bartender that works in both clubs and he was on shift on each day our victims went missing. He’s got a prior for aggravated assault and harassment.”

“We’ll take it.” Jay said, grabbing his jacket and heading out of the district.

Hailey fell into step next to him, glancing at him. “Jay, you okay?”

Jay nodded. “Let’s just get this son of a bitch.”

They travelled the rest of the way in silence. Hailey seemed to pick up that this case was affecting Jay differently but she didn’t press further, allowing Jay to lead the way into the closed club.

“Ben Carlton?”

The bartender looked up from where he was, his eyes falling onto the police badge that was hung around Jay’s neck.

In a sudden motion, he ducked out and ran.

“Hey, stop!” Jay yelled, as both he and Hailey launched themselves after him, Hailey shooting out the front door to try to head him off.

“5021 George, I have a suspect fleeing on foot.” Jay called into his radio, sprinting after the bartender.

The bartender barely made it onto the next street before Hailey flung herself at him around the corner, rolling onto the ground as Jay pulled out his gun. “Don’t move!” He yelled, as Hailey pulled the bartender to his feet.

“Let’s go.” Jay snarled.

---

“It wasn’t me!” Ben yelled as he sat in the interrogation room, facing Jay and Hailey.

Jay sighed internally, watching Ben’s reactions and the way he was answering the questions Hailey was shooting at him.

“Those were mistakes, I didn’t do this!” He yelled again.

Jay pushed himself upright, getting up from where he was leaning against the wall and pushing the photos of the victims onto the table. “This. Look at this. We can place these girls at the bars you worked at just before they died.”

“Look.” Ben said, looking up at Jay. “I saw them but they left before I even finished my shift.”

Jay glanced at Hailey. “Who did they leave with?” Hailey asked.

Ben looked from Hailey to Jay. “Look, I don’t know the guy, he’s not a regular. But he’s white, about their age. I noticed him because he headed for them the moment that he walked in. Like he knew they were there.”

Before Jay or Hailey moved, a knock came from the door.

“You guys gotta see this.” Adam said, sticking his head in.

“Sit tight.” Jay said to Ben, following Adam outside, where Kevin was waiting as well.

Kevin handed the file to Jay. “We got another one.” Jay flipped open the file, which told him what he already feared. Another victim, of a physical type that not only matched the first two victims but also you.

Jay looked up. “His cooling off period is getting shorter. We need to get this son of a bitch.”

---

The feeling was getting a little stronger that someone had been watching you.

You glanced over your shoulder but as usual the street was empty. Maybe you needed to stop staying late.

You turned back towards the front. There were sounds of footsteps but you swallowed the lump in your throat, quickening your pace as discreetly as you could.

It definitely felt like someone was following you now. You were almost running by the time you rounded the corner, colliding with someone.

You gave a yelp of surprise.

“Y/N!”

You had collided with Jay.

You let out a breath, spinning around to look over your shoulder.

“What’s going on? You okay?” Jay’s eyes snapped from you to the empty street behind you.

You turned back to look at Jay. Now that he was standing in front of you, it didn’t seem that scary anymore - maybe you had imagined the whole thing.

You shook your head, taking one last glance behind you. “What are you doing here? You finished the case?”

Jay smiled but the smile didn’t really reach his eyes. “Just wanted to check in on you. I have to go back soon.”

You reached for his hand without saying anything and that’s how the both of you walked back to your apartment, your hand clenched securely in his, almost like the both of you had a tight bubble around you.

You could tell Jay’s mind was far away, and it was even more unlike him to come see you in the middle of a case. You knew there was something troubling him but you weren’t one to press. Jay would tell you when he felt he could or he wanted to.

Instead, you just squeezed his hand.

Almost as if you were prying him from his thoughts, Jay looked at you and smiled. He pulled you closer to him, tucking you under his arm.

“You’re okay, right?” You asked, without looking up at him, just as he escorted you to your door.

Jay turned to look at you and nodded. “I will be, once this case is over.” He leaned forward to give you a kiss. “If anything happens, you call me, okay? No matter what.”

You raised an eyebrow but nodded at him, watching him disappear into the elevator before you retreated back into your apartment.

---

Intelligence had been tirelessly chasing down leads but they now had four bodies and Voight was getting pressure to solve this quickly as well. They needed a break in this case and fast.

“Okay, let’s regroup, what do we have so far?” Voight barked.

“All four victims were raped and found with multiple stab wounds. We know he picks up his victims from bars and appears non-threatening enough that his victims are willing to leave with him.” Jay said, getting up.

Hailey headed to the board, frowning. “We dumped their phones but we weren’t able to find any connection between the victims other than their physical type.” Hailey cast a look at Jay, which Voight didn’t miss. “I think he’s working his way up to something.”

“Hey guys?” Kim spoke up as she walked back in, flipping open the file sitting on her desk. “I went back over the first murder to see if we missed anything. Look at this.”

Kim pulled in her chair, zooming into the photo. “This badge here on his jacket, it’s barely visible so we missed it the first few times. I sent it to the lab to see if they could enhance the image and this is what I got.”

Kim clicked and up popped the crest of a high school. “Look, it’s not just a general badge. Look at the year.”

“Okay, that is the crest for Lincoln High. It’s a jacket given to those who graduated that year.” Kevin said, frowning at it.

“I’ll run the list of students who graduated in that year.” Jay barked, heading straight for his desk, his fingers flying across his keyboard.

Cross-checking was the worst job ever but the moment Jay’s eyes landed on your name on the list of graduates, he pulled it together, eliminating the women, men who had moved out of state or country, until finally he only had three names on the list.

“Okay, I have a Steven Miller, Charles Shoemaker and John Marlin.” Jay finally spoke up as everyone looked up. “But only Steven Miller has priors.”

“For harassment, sexual misconduct, and attempted assault. Sarge, this has to be our guy.” Jay looked up at Voight.

“Do we have an LKA?” Voight asked.

“Already on it.” Adam said.

“Go pick him up.” Adam nodded, motioning to Kevin as they headed out.

Something was bugging Jay. Steven Miller. That name was…

Fuck.

Jay pushed back his chair, entering Voight’s office without knocking and closing the door behind him.

“Sarge.”

Voight looked up, frowning a little at the look on Jay’s face. He put down his pen and leaned back in his chair, looking up at Jay.

“I’ve heard Miller’s name before. It was bugging me, but I remember now.”

Voight sat up straighter.

“I’m seeing his ex-girlfriend.” The words slipped past Jay’s lips. “Sarge, everything makes sense now. The physical type, the way he’s building up because his actual target…” Jay trailed off.

You had told Jay about Steven just once. You hadn’t gone into detail but you had told Jay about the short period that you had been together with Steven – his need for control over all aspects of your life, how he had always been a little rough, how he hadn’t taken any form of rejection well, and how you’d ended it the day he struck you.

“Take Hailey.”

Jay was already halfway to the door.

---

You had left early today.

It had been a while since you had done such an early shift but you’d been feeling more and more uneasy while walking home at night and the news coverage on the murders that were happening at the moment didn’t help.

You didn’t need Jay to tell you that you looked exactly like those girls who had been murdered. It was clear as day.

You fiddled with the key in the lock, opening the door.

You felt your heart drop into your stomach as you registered the person standing in front of you. In your house.

“Steven.” You muttered, your voice trembling, barely registering the butt of a gun heading towards your temple before it went dark.

---

Hailey hadn’t said anything but she knew something was off.

“Jay, what’s going on?” She asked. “How do you know this girl’s the target?”

Jay didn’t answer but pressed harder on the accelerator, gripping the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles were white. The ringing tone going off through his bluetooth speaker in the car making him feel even worse.

“Jay.” Hailey said again. “I’m your partner.”

Jay glanced at her now. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Hailey’s eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

Jay let a beat of silence passed. “Miller’s her ex. I should have seen the signs, the physical type, everything, I…”

“Jay. She’ll be fine. Come on.” Hailey reassured him, as he turned his truck onto the familiar street.

“She’s still not answering.” Jay said, through gritted teeth. He’d been trying to call you since he had left the station.

Without hesitation, Jay bounded up the stairs, Hailey right behind him. From down the corridor, Jay could already tell your door was slightly ajar.

“Hang back.” Jay whispered, pulling out his service weapon.

Jay quietly approached the door. “Y/N?” He opened the door with his foot, freezing as his eyes landed on you, sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, your eyes frantic as Steven held a knife to your throat from where he stood behind you.

Jay gritted his teeth, using his foot to slam the door shut, knowing that Hailey would know what to do.

“Step away from her.” Jay growled, pointing his gun directly at Steven.

Steven smiled. “I was wondering when you’d arrive. Put that down.”

Jay grinded his teeth but didn’t move. You felt the cold blade of the knife press against your skin and inhaled sharply.

“Put. It. Down.” Steven repeated.

“Okay, okay.” Jay said, glancing at you before putting his hands above his head, disarming his gun and putting it down onto the floor.

Steven smiled again, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“Don’t you fucking touch her.” Jay growled.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to tell me what to do.” Steven answered.

“Jay, I’m sorry.” You whispered.

Jay looked straight at you. “It’s going to be okay. You focus on me, you hear me? I’m right here.”

“We broke up a long time ago, what the hell are you doing?” You asked. You were afraid, hell you were trembling, but this was crazy and you had to help Jay to find a way out of this.

“We wouldn’t be broken up if he hadn’t come between us.” Steven snarled, moving closer towards you, his lips almost touching your ear.

Jay growled. “Leave her alone.”

Steven looked back up at Jay again.

“What, you mean don’t do this?” Steven asked, crushing his lips against yours.

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Jay yelled. “Is that what you did? How you forced yourself on all the other girls? What do you want, Steven? What are you trying to accomplish?”

“All I wanted was to be with Y/N! But you took her.” He spat.

“So you decided to go on a rampage?” Jay asked. You saw him twitch like he was looking for something so you started talking, as much as it made you want to gag.

“Steven, why didn’t you just talk to me?” You asked, trying to distract him.

“Talk? All you care about is him!” He yelled, lifting the knife and pointing it at Jay.

It happened in a split second.

The moment he lifted the knife, Jay yelled, “Now, Y/N!”

You threw yourself forward, covering your head with your hands as you heard the gunshots go off, just two. You weren’t sure who was shooting but you didn’t move until you heard Jay’s voice again.

“Y/N, it’s okay, it’s over.” Jay whispered.

You looked up, Jay’s face hovering above you.

“Jay…”

Jay nodded, “It’s okay, come here.”

Jay pulled his arms around you.

“He…” Jay shook his head, shielding your view of Steven’s now motionless body. “Don’t look back, come on.”

Jay tried to lead you out of the apartment, barely making it to the main door before his teammates appeared. “Jay!” Kevin called, as he spotted both of you.

Jay nodded. “Thanks.” Kevin nodded, his eyes lingering on the way Jay was holding you close to his side before making way for Jay to lead you back down to the ground floor where the ambulances were waiting.

Jay led you all the way to the waiting paramedics, not even leaving your side to get himself checked.

You weren’t hurt, not really. There was a little open cut from where Steven had pressed the blade a little too hard when he had been agitated but other than that you were fine. Well, that, and that disgusting feeling that came with remembering how Steven had pressed his lips against yours.

Voight approached you and Jay. Jay squeezed your hand. “I’ll be right back.” You smiled and nodded.

Jay and Voight talked in low voices until Voight turned to look at you. “And she’s okay?”

Jay nodded. “Yeah, she is. I just need to…”

“Do what you need to do. We’ll finish up here.” Voight said, nodding and clapping Jay on the back.

---

The paramedics had dressed the wound on the scene before Jay had brought you back to his apartment.

After getting you into a clean change of clothes and some warm food in you, you had ended up back in your favourite place in the world – on Jay’s couch, in Jay’s apartment, encircled in Jay’s arms.

You lay your head on Jay’s chest.

“So this was all because of me?” You asked in a low voice.

Jay sat up, looking at you. “What?”

“He killed all those women… because of me. I got them killed.” You whispered.

“No, no, baby.” Jay propped himself up, but didn’t let you go. “This is not your fault. Steven he… he did this, not you.”

You looked up at him. “He even… in front of you… he…” You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, you felt disgusting. He’d kissed you, he’d done it in front of Jay and he’d ruined everything.

You hadn’t said that much but Jay just tilted your chin upwards and kissed you. “Jay…”

“I’ll take it all away.” Jay whispered. “I’m sorry, I should have been there sooner.”

You shook your head, swiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks.

Jay cupped your cheek again, pulling you into his chest. You balled your hand around his shirt, gripping at Jay.

“It’s okay, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” Jay whispered.

“I’ll never let anyone touch you ever again.” He half snarled, still caressing you gently.

You leaned into his embrace, closing your eyes as the sound of Jay’s heartbeat gently lulled you back into the feeling of safety and security.

[ihaveatheoryonthat]

This is the existing writing for Hidden Ability: Imposter. It’s just bits and pieces, but if you’ve read its outline, you can put them into context.

---

Dawn watched something in her friend break.

His fragile sense of self fell away, its protective shell laying shattered on the ground, unable to protect the embers that had burned beneath; though they still glowed [adj] as ever, the [flame] of hope behind his eyes was instantly snuffed.

Several long minutes passed, disturbed only by a stiff, “Please excuse me. I… need to consider this matter in further depth.”

She felt like she should stop him.

She didn’t know how.

---

If it were something he was doing of his own free will, then Dawn would have respected it. It wasn’t, though-- so, while she’d play by his rules out loud, nothing could stop her from stubbornly seeing him as Warden Ingo.

No matter what he said, it wasn’t anything like her own alias. She’d panicked, had seen the people looking at her with fear and distrust and wanted a shield to hide behind. Ingo himself confessed that he’d woken up with his name and little else, and that was one of the many, many reasons Dawn wouldn’t buy into his belief.

Who, after going through something so transparently traumatic, would remember the name of a Facility Head in favor of their own? Oh, she knew what he’d say-- ‘someone with deep rooted issues that he’d strive to correct’-- but that was another thing!

There was absolutely no way, hundreds of years in the past and without any working memory, that Ingo had modeled his behavior after the Subway Boss. The kindness he’d showed her wasn’t a mockery of someone else or some kind of front; he was a sweet person who genuinely wanted to see people and Pokemon [prosper]. Unless something in his personality had drastically changed upon falling to Hisui, Dawn refused to believe the man she knew would have tried to become someone else. Even completely amnesiac, he’d been too secure in his conduct to let the past change him.

So… fine. She’d go with this whole ‘Warden’ thing, but Arceus damn it, she was going to get to the bottom of this.

---

“You uh… you good?” She asked, well aware of what the answer should be. Nobody holding a knife in a grip like that could call their mental state ‘good’.

It was the first thing he dropped when her presence clicked, followed shortly by one of the tufts of hair that hung down by his face-- mussed by the way he’d been holding it. At the very least, he had the dignity not to lie to her. “I’ve found myself at something of an impasse.”

“You look too much like him, huh?”

There was a short nod in response. “It shouldn’t be so difficult to change tra-- to [idk], but committing to the change is… harder than I had expected.”

“So… don’t? I mean, it’s just hair, it’d grow back eventually, but you don’t have to cut it off, either. Here,” Dawn said, and pulled him down to her level, keeping an eye on the knife so neither of them got nicked. With one hand, she undid one of her clips and, with the other, seized the much-abused forelock to smooth it back. When she was satisfied with the way it sat, she fastened it into place. It was kind of funny, in a cute way-- with the natural curve, it looked a little like he was a Sneasel pinning its ears. “You could probably use hair gel or something, too, but this is the best I’ve got right now. Ooh, actually, wait-- do you wanna see how my Survey Corps bandana would look?”

Gingerly, Ingo reached up to touch the clip. For just a second, he glanced to the abandoned knife, but only reached for it in order to tuck it safely away, then straightened up and quirked a not-smile at her. “Whatever course-- ah, sorry, whatever solution you think best, I’m willing to [try].”

---

“Ah,” He said, looking away, “Well, yes, but while I do enjoy battling, wouldn’t it be prudent to distance myself from such… commonalities?”

She tossed her hands up, exasperated, “With who? Half the population? Are you going to refuse to use public transport too, just ‘cause this guy works on a train?” Dawn scrubbed at her nose and exhaled deeply, “Sorry. I just don’t see why you have to walk away from something you love because someone else likes it, too. That’s like… what a twelve year old thinks.”

Color rose to his cheeks, but he didn’t meet her eyes. “I simply worry that indulging in such hobbies may… [?] bad behavior.”

There was a beat of silence as Dawn digested that, then moved slightly to the left and crouched down so she could stare him in the eye with the single flattest look she could muster.

“Are you hearing yourself right now? Because that’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard all day.” / “You being in town undercuts Barry’s chaos by, like, two thirds. I know you’re afraid of secretly being this awful person, but if you were, do you really think the idea would scare you that much?”

It was difficult to tell, but he relaxed, just a hair.

“C’mon,” She said, grabbing his hand, “Everyone battles some time or another. Like you in the next ten minutes-- let’s go find someone who wants to fight.”

---

Dawn slapped her hands down on the kitchen table. Without missing a beat, Ingo mirrored the gesture with his free hand, still intent on what Dawn assumed was the budgeting he’d been working on earlier that day.

“The PWT’s coming up.” She announced, and didn’t wait before prefacing it, “The Pokemon World Tournament.   We’re going to compete in it.”

“That’s quite the bold assumption.” He said mildly, jotting down another string of numbers.

“No, think about it, it’s perfect!” / “I’ve been gone for a while, so I need to prove I’ve still got it, right? And you can make a name for yourself! You can show everyone who you really are! That’s what you believe battling does, right?”

Ingo paused, pen idling against the paper, and looked up at her, “Yes, but doing so in a public forum seems counterproductive. I’m a private citizen, not a professional trainer. That distinction feels rather important.”

“But--! Warden. You were a warden!”

“I recall. My memory hasn’t deteriorated that far, yet.” / “My position as warden was a matter of keeping humans and Pokemon alike safe. The fact that it necessitated the occasional battle isn’t relevant at this juncture.”

He caught the lapse after the fact, made to find a substitute, and-- as Dawn was already speaking-- resigned himself to the original phrasing.

“Oh? So what you call whatever that was at the training grounds?”

“Understimulation does strange things to a person. I’m certain you’re well aware of that fact, having grown up alongside Barry.”

[…]

...it would be playing dirty, in her opinion, but Dawn realized how she could spin this.

“You said you’re not a pro trainer,” She said slowly, carefully picking her words, “But you already battle for a living. I think that’s the definition of professional battling-- and the tournament would be a great way to [capitalize on it].”

Not that it was really a concern; Twinleaf was hardly the most expensive place to live, and she and her mom made more than enough to live comfortable lives. And, to be completely honest, the amount of fussing Ingo did around the house, at the Pokemon and at them already justified his presence. She felt a little guilty for insinuating that it didn’t, that him being there wasn’t already enough.

Ingo didn’t look away from her-- not so much meeting her eyes as much as looking through her, and the intensity of his stare certainly made her feel transparent.

“I’ll take it under advisement.” He eventually said, and turned back to his paperwork.

---

Her eyes caught on a set of matching hair ties and clips, clearly meant for small children. The pale pinks and purples were what had drawn her in to begin with-- so similar to the way they’d fashioned the headkerchief she could spot across the store-- but what kept her attention was the shape. Somewhere between Skitty and Glameow, they were an ambiguous suggestion of feline, unwittingly the spitting image of a Hisuian Sneasel, minus the crest feather.

She grabbed it without hesitation and went to present her find.

Only to stop in her tracks, smile going from gleeful mischief to [???] when the sight before her clicked.

“What’cha got there~?” She singsonged, hiding the clips behind her back so as not to distract from what was clearly the higher priority, eyes locked on the belt in Ingo’s hands.

She understood why it might appeal to him, mimicking the functionality of a satchel, but it didn’t change the fact that it belonged to a very particular-- very contrary-- aesthetic. His expression didn’t twitch at the [teasing], either unaware that he could have been embarrassed, or wholly unrepentant. Her money was on the former.

“I was considering replacing my current belt. It’s still perfectly functional, but the fact that it was from my previous uniform is a bit irksome. This is rather flashy, but… oddly appealing.”

Color her surprised. It had been the latter.

“Get it.” She said instantly, imaging how the studded black belt might contrast against the soft greys and purples he’d been favoring. Bold, but not necessarily at odds. Honestly, Dawn was just in awe of the fact that he’d picked out something that also fastened around the leg to steady its pouch. It had shiny silver eyelets. And a chain.

It was so far from mild-but-practical that she had to keep herself from laughing.

Ingo coiled the bit of chain around one finger, considering it. “I think… if I hadn’t been wearing the uniform, I might have liked this kind of thing.”

Throwing caution to the wind, Dawn reached over with the pack of hair clips still in hand and grabbed him by the face.

“Get it.” She repeated, more emphatically-- and yes, a part of her said that because the thought of ‘Warden Ingo, closet goth of the Highlands’ was a hilarious one, but the rest of her was ecstatic that he could recall something distinct from the Subway Boss’s public image. This was something that could really be his.

He hummed, amused, and slowly extricated himself from her grasp.

Almost as an afterthought, she shoved the clips at him and, prior to scampering off to find Lucas, said, “By the way, I’m buying these whether you want them or not. Non negotiable.”

There wouldn’t have been any change on his face, anyway, so she was completely satisfied with the delighted bark of laughter that sounded behind her.

[contemplativepancakes]

sunsets for somebody else

Daphne runs into her long lost husband arguing with another man in the grocery store. Things start to take a turn when she realizes they're married.

The bottle of bleach drops from Daphne’s hand into her cart, landing with a sloshing thud as she takes in the scene in front of her, frozen in her tracks. Emmanuel is standing right in front of her, arguing with another man about cleaning supplies.

Wearing a beige trench coat for some inexplicable reason—it’s almost 90 degrees outside—Emmanuel listens to a man who’s explaining in minute detail how to clean an oven. They’re both wearing wedding rings, and Daphne’s heart swells for a moment before she realizes it’s a different ring from the one she gave Emmanuel all those years ago.

“Dean, I don’t think this is safe for Jack. This is going to create noxious fumes,” Emmanuel says, squinting at the ingredients of the cleaner apparently-Dean had thrust at him.

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, and Daphne squeezes the handle of her shopping cart harder, feeling faint. It’s not every day you come across your long lost husband at the Stop N’ Shop.

“I think the kid can take some fumes,” Dean says, plucking the bottle out of Emmanuel’s hands and putting it in the cart. “We wouldn’t even have to worry about this if someone didn’t let the pizza fall onto the bottom of the oven.”

“The directions said to put it directly on the middle rack!” Emmanuel protests, and Dean rubs a hand down Emmanuel’s back in a familiar way that makes Daphne’s stomach roil.

She’s not jealous, she’s not. She was just helping Emmanuel when she found him, after all. Their marriage was simply one of…convenience for Emmanuel. It’s not like he had a birth certificate with him, or a social security number. What did Daphne get out of all this? Well. Daphne looks at his cheek bones wistfully, her gaze dipping down to his strong forearms his trench coat is rolled up to reveal.

Dean rolls his eyes fondly, and then he tugs Emmanuel into his side, kissing him on the temple. Daphne jerks her stare away for a moment before returning it, noticing now that their wedding rings match.

“Emmanuel?” she chokes out, against her better judgment.

For a long second, she doesn’t think Emmanuel heard her, but he turns around. “Daphne?”

Daphne nods, her words forsaking her. She doesn’t miss the way Dean clutches possessively at Emmanuel’s hip.

“I…thought you were dead,” she finally says. “I filed a missing person report.”

Dean squints at her, before something like recognition passes over her face, and now that she thinks about it, Daphne recognizes him, too. He’s the one who showed up right before everything went to shit. Horror stories of Stockholm syndrome flash through her mind.

“Emmanuel, are you…happy?” she settles on.

Emmanuel gives her a smile, leaning harder into Dean. “I am.”

“Good. That’s. Good,” she says, a strangled look on her face, she’s sure. “Would you want to catch up some time?” she asks before she fully registers what’s coming out of her mouth.

Emmanuel gives her a warm smile. “I’d love that.”

As they set up a time to get coffee, Daphne tries to ignore the glare Dean levels at her throughout the whole conversation. He insists that their meeting be tomorrow, since apparently they won’t be in the area for long. Daphne tries to ignore the warning bells in her mind that tell her she’s about to get murdered and takes solace in the fact that at least they’re meeting in a public place.

Besides, even if Emmanuel’s husband is a serial killer, surely Emmanuel won’t let him murder her, right?

-

The next day, Daphne hems and haws as she debates what to wear. Whatever this is, it’s the exact opposite of a date, anyway. She knocks on the door of her foster child, Alex, to wake them up before she goes into the bathroom to do her hair and makeup. Really, she’s just doing it for herself. She’s allowed to want to look nice!

When she finally deems herself as ready as she’s going to get, she goes back to Alex’s room to make sure they’re actually up. To her pleasant surprise, they’re sitting on the edge of their bed putting on their socks and almost ready. “Excited for school today?” she asks.

Alex makes a face at her. “Never,” they say, but their voice at least has the edge of a smile to it.

They’ve come a long way since they were first placed with her, and even though Daphne knows she shouldn’t be getting overly attached, she can’t help it. She walks down the steps and into the kitchen, deliberating for a moment on breakfast before putting frozen waffles into the toaster. If she’s about to get murdered while Alex is at school, she can at least make sure the last thing she made for them wasn’t cereal.

Alex tromps down the steps, dragging their bookbag behind them, and Daphne hides her smile behind her glass of orange juice. Alex lights up at the sight of the waffles, disturbingly easy to please, as always. They inhale them, as teenagers do, before putting their dishes in the sink. Daphne cracks open her laptop as they wait for the bus, attempting to get some of her work done for the day since she’ll be taking a break later for the coffee. She really hopes her boss doesn’t try and call her while she’s out.

Or, maybe she does. She’s not sure she’s prepared for the level of awkwardness that she’s about to go through, but maybe it won’t be as bad as she thinks. She really wants to know what Emmanuel has been up to for all of this time. She’s still…embarrassingly hung up on him, and it would be nice to get some closure.

The bus pulling up in front of the house jerks her out of her thoughts, and she gives Alex a wave before they race off to get on. She watches them settle into a seat with one of their friends, and smiles at the fact that they even have friends now.

In the end, Daphne doesn’t manage to get much work done before she clambers into her car and drives to the coffee shop they agreed on. She doesn’t really think she needs caffeine with the way her leg is bouncing already.

Emmanuel and Dean are already there when she walks in, Emmanuel with a cup of black coffee he’s dumping sugar packets into and Dean with something with whipped cream and chocolate syrup drizzled on top. She gives them a tentative wave before ordering hot chocolate for herself, settling herself delicately in the seat across from them.

“So,” Dean says. “You were Cas’s wife?”

She squints. “Cas?”

Emmanuel speaks up. “After I regained my memories, I remembered that was my name.”

“Oh.” Smiling weakly, she tries to reconcile that. “You have them all back now?”

Emman—Cas nods.

“Just forgot about me, though?” she tries to ask lightly, but it comes out a little garbled.

“You took advantage of him!” Dean explodes from the other side of the table, making Daphne flinch. “Who the fuck finds someone naked with no memories and marries them?”

“Dean,” Cas chastises, his arm shifting like he’s putting his hand on Dean’s thigh under the table.

“I was helping him,” Daphne says hotly. “Would you have just wanted me to leave him there?”

Cutting Dean off before he can say anything else, Cas looks at Daphne and smiles in a way that makes her heart flutter. “I’m very grateful. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to let you know I was alright.”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, taking a sip of his sugar monstrosity. He comes away with a whipped cream mustache, and it’s hard not to laugh as he wipes it away in total seriousness.

“So,” Daphne says. “You two have a kid? Jack?”

Scowling, which seems to be Dean’s automatic reflex, he exchanges a glance with Cas before softening. “Yeah, we have a kid. He’s four.”

Daphne thinks maybe Dean should have been a little bit more concerned about the fumes of cleaning chemicals if they have a four year old, but she keeps her judgments to herself. Cas beams. “He’s very bright.”

Returning the smile tentatively, Daphne asks, “How long have you two been married?”

“It’s almost our one year anniversary,” Dean says gruffly.

Daphne tries not to let it affect her, even if that’s more time than she ever got with Cas. “Practically newly weds, then!”

“It’s been an adventure; that’s certain,” Cas says, smiling serenely even as Dean elbows his ribs. “Tell us about you, Daphne. What have you been doing?”

Daphne shrugs a shoulder. “Oh, not too much.” Mourning the man I pulled out of the woods and saved and married, she doesn’t say. She knows Emmanuel never felt the same way about her that she did him. “I got approved to be a foster parent, so I’ve had a few kids come through.”

“Helping people has always been your calling,” Cas says softly.

Daphne takes a few minutes to gush about Alex, and her previous kids before them, before she notices Dean’s not actively glaring at her anymore.

“That’s…nice,” he begrudges when she finishes.

“What do you do, Dean?”

Looking like he just dropped something on his foot, he stammers before he hastily says, “I work construction.”

Daphne squints at him. She has the feeling he’s lying to her, but she has no idea why he would be.

“And what about you, Cas?”

“Oh, I mostly just take care of Jack.”

“You’re a stay at home dad?” she asks, the thought making her stomach twist into knots and heat rise to her face.

“Of a sorts,” Cas agrees.

God, they’re making it impossible to carry on a conversation with them. Daphne keeps a smile pasted to her face. “What do you two do for fun?”

“I’m convinced Dean thinks fun is superfluous,” Cas confides, even as Dean splutters at him. “But I like to drag him to thrift stores with me. Dean likes to bake, also.”

“I work on cars, too,” Dean says, and Daphne can feel his desperation to maintain his facade.

She tries not to quirk a smile at his discomfort. They chat for a while longer, Dean getting increasingly dodgy about the questions she asks before she finally excuses herself to go to the bathroom. She shuts the door behind her and looks down at the dank floor. Is she getting what she wanted out of this? She has no idea what she even imagined happening when she asked to catch up. Emmanuel running away with her? Maybe in her wildest fantasies. Taking a deep breath to ground herself, she looks in the mirror and checks her makeup, rubbing at her under eye circles before walking back out of the bathroom.

Cas is at the counter ordering another drink, for Dean, by the sound of the sugar content, and she walks over to him. Hesitating before she bites the bullet, she asks, “You’re not…like, being held against your will, right? That Dean seems,” she pauses, “interesting.”

Cas laughs warmly, putting a hand over Daphne’s. “No, nothing like that. This is a choice of my own free will, believe it or not. Dean is much more caring than he lets on.”

Well, Daphne’s not sure she believes it, but. At least he’s happy, and in the end, that’s all she’s ever wanted for him.