liaised

7

SUMMARY AND COMMENTS ON HOTARU’S SECOND TENKA TSUKI EVENT STORY AS YOUR LOVE INTEREST.

LINK TO THE FIRST PART HERE

So this story event gives us a glimpse into Hotaru’s psyche. Poor boy’s been living in a bubble and is all shades of fucked up inside but there’s that childlike innocence to him that draws the MC. I am 100% sure Tsuki MC is slightly older than him. Anyways, SPOILER ALERT, summary and comments after the break.

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anonymous asked:

What would the the chocobros romantic ideal date be with their s/o. (I would love to read some sweet fluffy stuff :'))

Originally posted by gigglincactus

Headcanon/scenario’s revolving each of the guy’s individual preferences for a rare day/night off to spend with their partners.

Noctis:
Noctis is a lethargic type of person. He has his reasons – the guy is draining a lot of energy to fulfil his Royal duties so he wants a whole day to relax. He will invite you to stay over at his private chambers in the Citadel, Crown City.

Following a much needed sleep-in, he will make the effort to get out of bed and make you a hot drink before proceeding to shower – he wants a fresh scent and is paranoid about his appearance around you. Whilst you’re sipping your beverage in bed he will quickly grab some of his hair products from his draws and rush in the bathroom, frantically looking in one mirror to the next to ensure his hair is styled adequately. Post hair woes, Noctis informs you the bathroom is free provided you want to use it so you quickly wash and put casual clothes on – you know you’re not going to be taken anywhere fancy but that’s what he adores about you. You love him for who he is and not because of his Royalty.

Noctis decides to surprise you to visit an old play area him and the bros would hang out in during their school years. The place holds a lot of sentimental value to him and you’re touched he opened up to you. Noctis takes your hand and leads you to sit on top of a long slide – it’s a little claustrophobic because of the lack of room, yet you both feel so cosy and snuggle up to each other. He places his arm around the back of your neck, ensuring his hand is respectfully away from your chest area and place on your forearm.

Noctis strokes your forearm now and then between sentences to ensure you feel loved and acknowledged. His other arm is awkwardly wrapped around the ladder connected to the slide.

Noctis: ‘Look, I know I’m not the sort of guy to say everything and anything about how I’m feeling but….I…’

He sighs and continues.

‘Those guys are my life and my family and….and I want you to be part of it. You’re my world Y/N – my one constant and damn it, I know, look, I know I don’t show my gratitude enough….’

Y/N: ‘It’s okay Noct, please continue.’ – You want to cherish this moment he pours his heart out to you.

Noctis: ‘Just promise me one thing. I swear, I hope it’s not too much. Stay with me, always Y/N.’

You simply nodded your head before proceeding to rest it on his shoulder. He smiles and you both enjoy absorbing your surroundings.

The old run down play area held a greater significance than ever……


Gladio:
One of the reasons Gladio fell for you is because you’re not afraid to get your hands dirty for a prize! You worked a busy shift at the power plant and were surprised to see Gladio sitting outside your car.

Y/N: ‘Er Gladi, aren’t you supposed to be escorting Noctis to Altissia’s Fishing Tournament tonight? The paparazzi are going to be in full force, he needs you right?’

Gladio: ‘Not tonight Princess but don’t worry, I got it covered. Tonight, it’s about me and you.’

You kinda despised being called Princess for a nickname but hey, the guy took a night off for you. Since you were off this weekend, you didn’t have to worry about an early start to sleep for so you were motivated to make the most of your night! Gladio suggested you went on a little hunt, to which you responded.

Y/N: ‘Behemoth time, right Gladio? What say we get some proper meat, OUR way?’

Gladio: ‘Oh, I’m on it!’

Gladio high fives you and insists on driving your car due to your tiring day at work. You both arrive in run down deserted plains situated between Goldin Quay and Hammerhead. You both swing out your weapons and temporarily separate to increase the chances of what becomes a successful pre-emptive strike on a huge 20 foot Behemoth with claws so sharp and strong they could break a human’s bones in seconds.

You both perform one last strike together, Gladio grabs your hand and swings you to the opposite side of the creature, delivering a devastating blow to its back leg whilst Gladio pierces its chest. You both gather your prize and go back to your apartment, in which he carefully stirs your hard earned meat into yours and his favourite limited edition sweet and sour chilli Cup Of Noodles you managed to acquire for free as a thank you for your efforts at work.

You both sat on your sofa, watching horror movies accompanied with your delicious noodles before he grabs your hips gently, placing you on his lap, massaging your back whilst enjoying your favourite horror movies.


Prompto:
Prompto’s purchased you both some tickets to the Moogle Chocobo carnival – an annual event you’ve sadly never attended due to your work commitments as a full time environmentalist, educating citizens across the globe. He’s already liaised with your management, practically begging them to let you have a weekend off to unwind and what better way to let loose than find yourself surrounding by mascots, fun and games whilst being surprised to a free fireworks display as a thank you for your services to the people of Eos.

Prompto has you blindfolded whilst he drives you to your special getaway. He asked you to pack beforehand so everything was organised and going smoothly! Whilst you wondered what was occurring, you heard unfamiliar noises and the sounds of huge gatherings and popping balloons.

Prompto escorted you out of his auto mobile with your luggage, leading you to what sounded and felt like a hotel suite. He then led you back outdoors again before ripping off your blindfold.

Prompto: ‘Ta da sweet cheeks! This is for you. Take a break, relax and enjoy!’

Y/N: ‘Oh my, wow this is the……THIS IS THE FREAKING MOOGLE CHOCOBO CARNIVAL ARE YOU SHITTING ME RIGHT NOW?’

You immediately ran over to the coins counter, learning what prizes are to be won before Prompto grabs your arm, leading you to the chocobo races to which you gladly volunteered to participate.

Talk about an amazing day. You were both on a sugar high from the Moogle Edition candy floss and choco-banana ice cream consumed. You’d participated in various activities, including the findings of moogle models, shooting cactuars, photograph competitions. Prompto had never seen you so happy, even though you beat him at chocobo racing which would normally frustrate him. You even won a plush chocobo for him at the stall as a way to say thank you which gets him emotional. As the evening would draw closer, he decided to take you out for a meal at Altissia’s finest establishment before inviting you to the special fireworks event. You both refreshed yourselves at your hotel room before Prompto escorted you to a small boat, controlled by a member of staff for tour guides and just generally enjoy the scenery and see all the sights whilst admiring the beautiful fireworks!

As the sparks would fly, you closed your eyes, taking in the sounds before grabbing Prompto’s camera and getting plenty of landscape shots of multi-coloured fireworks – the colours perfectly contrasted the dark night sky.

Prompto: ‘That’s my girl.’

He watched you with utmost pride and smirked. How did he ever get this lucky? Seeing you smile made him feel warm and fuzzy inside and you’d never forget this thoughtful gesture.

Ignis:
Ignis is the only bro who evidences balance and structure in the event of planning a date. For Ignis, he would need to outline the pros and cons of a particular location and recipe before inviting his loved one into what could be a night of turmoil and trouble. He hides it well normally but the guy was rather anxious when it came to pleasing his partner. They’re the sort of couple of love each other dearly but enjoy pursuing their own interests and investing in their own individual time – the pair’s schedules are packed to the brim with Royal duties; Ignis serving Prince Noctis and Y/N attending to the cleanliness of the Citadel quarters. So a date night was a pretty big deal as far as Iggy was concerned.

He gave notice to Noctis concerning his ‘night off’ and ensured Y/N followed suit. So it’s now a Saturday night and Y/N has spent the day sleeping and catching up on her historical readings leant to her by Ignis himself. Ignis has been preparing the setting for Y/N, hoping the date would prove she is his number one priority, despite his commitments to the Prince. He requested she dresses in ‘comfortable’ and ‘warm’ attire and meet him outside the Citadel. She proceeds and he takes her arm, escorting her to his car, driving with the roof lowered. He then leads her to a quiet area full of grasslands situated on the outskirts of Insomnia. You’d read about this little known location in one of your books Iggy leant you. You were most impressed.

Ignis: ‘Follow me and please, remain seated. You need not lift a finger for tonight’s activities.’

You followed him to a beautiful campsite, clearly set up during the day (good job it didn’t rain), the tent was pretty huge and you took a sneak peak – he’d filled the tent with your favourite blanket you keep in his accommodation to preserve his scent, all accompanied with a thick duvet and cushions. You smelt the scent of your favourite dish, Spaghetti Bolognese complete with Sea salt bread with a large bottle of balsamic vinegar – your favoured flavour of dip.

Y/N: ‘How long have you been out here today, cooking this?’

Ignis: ‘Ah, the best part of the whole day, crack of dawn to set up camp, followed by food preparation back home, not to forget the……’

Ignis was interrupted by you dramatically running over to him standing at the stove. He paused whilst you hugged him tightly, almost trapping his oxygen supply, thanking him repeatedly.

As you eventually dined outside the huge camp/kitchen set up he suggested a spot of stargazing before wrapping up the date. You assisted him in tidying the crockery and sat a few meters away from the tent on the grassy floor. You felt Ignis wrap his hands around your waist as he placed himself on the floor, carefully seating you on his thighs whilst he stretched out his legs.

No words were needed, the ambience of the night and the most wondrous view did all the talking for the pair of you. Eventually you fell asleep, so peaceful and content whilst stargazing. He lifted you in his arms and placed you in the tent, wrapping the blankets around you both.

Ignis: ‘Sleep well my beloved Y/N. Sleep well.’


Thank you for your request! I hope this was okay! :D

XMyDaysInMilanX

anonymous asked:

Mom, if its not too much to ask, could you do a story about Maggie having trouble dealing with a perpetually disappointed parent? Constantly being disappointed in her lifestyle choices out of 'love and worry'(style of dress, job, eating habits, etc.) and J'onn noticing and balancing it out with his own brand of space-dad approval? It's getting harder and harder to deal with my mom's disapproval lately. I feel like I can't do anything right. If not, I can wait for prompts to open again.

He only ever hears one side of the conversation, but that’s all he needs to hear to put the pieces together.

“Now’s not a great time, Pop, is Ma okay? I – yeah – yeah, I’m on duty. Yeah, Pop, I know it’s eleven at night. No, come on, I can’t do this right now. Because I love my job, Pop, it’s important, I’m changing the force from the ins– you know what, I don’t – I don’t have time for this, I gotta go. I love you. Yes, of course I do, why the hell would you say something like that? I – hello? Bye to you, too.”

Another night, this time earlier in the evening, the day after Maggie picked up Alex wearing a sharp flannel and massive smile, with a dozen red roses in tow. Winn had insisted on taking their picture, and apparently Maggie had sent it to her parents, because I want them to see how absolutely beautiful my girlfriend is.

“Hey Pop, how you doing? Aw, you did? Isn’t she gorgeous? I – it – I – I think I was in a flannel, wasn’t I? It – yeah, I know I’m not on the farm anymore, trust me, I know – no, Pop – “ J’onn almost doesn’t notice when Maggie switches to Portuguese, having known the language for so long the translation came to his mind just as quickly as the English did – “It’s not just a white girl look, Pop, plenty of self-respecting brown women dress like this, I’m not betraying anyt – well hey, you didn’t see anything wrong with raising me in an all-white town – no, I know you love me, I know you want what’s best for me – “ J’onn blinks when she switches seamlessly back to English – “but maybe what’s best for me is having you actually be happy for me when I send you a picture of me so clearly happy with how my life is right now, instead of calling me to just to criticize my – no, I don’t wanna talk to her right now, I – “

She groans and J’onn lowers his eyes and sighs quietly.

It happens again as she and Alex are gearing up for Alex’s first visit to Blue Springs, which has one of his girls wide-eyed and nervous, and the other both loving and terribly, terribly tense.

“Nah, tell her she doesn’t have to make me anything special, I’ll just whip something up for myself when we get there – yes, Alex will eat what she – because, Pop, I’ve been vegan for years, you’d think you both would get used to it by – well somehow I manage, and Mama is the one who taught me to cook, so if I can figure it out, I – no, you know what, you’re right, I’m sorry, I’m not trying to fight with you, just… just don’t go to any trouble, okay, I’ll work it out when I get there, I – no, I didn’t mean – yes Pop. Yes sir. Yeah. I love you. Bye.”

J’onn doesn’t imagine it would help his newest child much if he flew himself out to Blue Springs and gave Mr. Sawyer a piece of his mind.

And Maggie always slips off into a corner, whisper-shouts instead of shout-shouting, turns her face, her body, away when she gets her father’s calls. And she’s not like Alex, but she is, she is, so he doesn’t want to hurt her pride by bringing it up with her directly. Or violate her privacy, for that matter (though he supposes he can’t very well help what his ears pick up).

So instead, he starts doing small things, saying small things, that he hopes she’ll notice, that he hopes will lift, at least a little, the sad sagging in her shoulders; relieve, at least a little, the tension in her coiled lower back, her fists; soothe, at least a little, the burning tears in her eyes, the raging pit in her stomach, the defeat in her chest.

“You know, Detective Sawyer, since you started liaising with the DEO, our communication with the NCPD has never been better. The increased efficiency is saving a lot of lives; that’s a lot you have to be proud of.”

Alex is – nowadays, anyway – generally the one to blush, to squirm, to fumble over her words. And, true to form, Maggie doesn’t squirm, not exactly, but she stammers a bit and it’s clear she doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to respond, doesn’t know how to feel, doesn’t know what to do with her hands, her eyes, her face.

So she falls back on her training, and she nods, and she says, simply, “Thank you, sir. That… means a lot.”

He covers her shoulder with his hand and she looks almost overcome by the gesture.

And then again, later, the next time he sees her decked out in flannel and sharp pants and a belt of the sort that he’s overhead Winn referring to as gloriously gay, he makes sure he smiles at her. He clears his throat, because if what he’s about to say is going to be uncomfortable for her, it’s even moreso for him, but that doesn’t matter, because she deserves to hear it from a potentially father-type figure.

So he clears his throat once, twice, and before she can ask if he wants some water, he forces out, “You look particularly sharp today, Detective. Agent Danvers is fortunate to have a woman as beautiful as you.”

“J’onn, are you hitting on Alex’s girlfriend?”

“Oh, leave the man alone, Schott, just because he knows how to compliment a woman better than you do,” Maggie quips through her smile ,through her deep, deep blush. She reaches up to put her hand on J’onn’s shoulder, this time, and he’s sure that as she walks away, it’s with a straighter spine and a prouder strut.

And when it’s one of the rookie agent’s birthdays and Kara insists on throwing him a little party, it’s J’onn who takes Maggie aside to make sure she knows that there are three different flavors of vegan ice cream, just for her.

“You know, when I first arrived on this planet, I was startled by how many human cultures emphasize animal flesh as their major culinary staples. Since then I’ve deeply appreciated humans who can see part their society, to a different sort of ethics.”

Maybe it’s because she and Alex didn’t get much sleep the night before, so her guard is lower than it might otherwise be; maybe it’s because J’onn’s eyes are as soft and as warm as his voice is awkward and gruff; or maybe it’s because her own father’s words are still stinging so sharply, so loudly, so painfully, in her ears; or maybe it’s all of it, everything, because suddenly Maggie is leaning up on her tip toes and she’s reaching her arms up and she’s burying her face in J’onn’s chest.

He only hesitates for a brief, startled moment before he wraps his arms around her, too, one of his hands covering the entire small of her back.

“Thank you, J’onn,” she’s whispering, and he catches Alex’s wet smile from across the room over Maggie’s head.

“Thank you, Maggie. Thank you for giving my girls – both of them – such happiness. We are all… truly lucky to have you in our lives.”

And now, if Maggie doesn’t know what to say, it’s because her body is speaking her gratitude for her, and J’onn nods when Alex mouths her thanks at him, because he means it; even in times like these, they’re still lucky, because they have, somehow, against all odds and probabilities, found each other.

16 Hours to Go

A/N: A smutty Spencer x Reader where the two have sex in a plane bathroom. I decided it wouldn’t be on the jet though because the team would ABSOLUTELY know what was going on. ;) @coveofmemories @sweetg

                                                               —–

“I need off of this plane,” you muttered for the 10th time in as many minutes. “How much longer is this flight going to be?” You’d asked that question numerous times too. After going to China on a 20-hour flight, liaising with a University, and helping the locals with an impromptu case of their own, the last thing either of you wanted to do was sit on another 20-hour flight back. 

Spencer huffed, turning his head to you as his fingers drummed against the armrest between you. “I’ve lost track of how many times you’ve asked that question. We’ve been on the plane for four hours. That means 16 to go. Stop reminding me.”

“I’m so tired,” you groaned, kicking your feet like a two year old. “But I can’t sleep. Why the hell is that?” 

Spencer huffed again. “I could actually tell you why that happens, but I don’t think you really want the answer.”

“No,” you said, “I don’t. I just want to be able to sleep. But very few things allow me to sleep when I’m this overly tired. A good meal, a bubble bath, and/or sex. That’s it. And I’m not getting any of that any time soon. God, this is awful.” The air was stifling. How the fuck were you supposed to survive another 16 hours of this? Especially awake hours?

Spencer looked around, eyebrows raised, wondering how many other people were awake in business class and how many employees were around. “You could have one of those things now,” he said. 

“What? Do you see the flight attendants? Does the food actually look decent?” you asked, looking around like a bear after hibernation. You weren’t hangry yet, but you were getting there. 

“Not the food,” he replied. “I have no idea where the flight attendants are. I was talking about the sex.”

“Really?” you asked, snapping your head in his direction. He’d never expressed any interest in you before. “You would have sex with me because I’m cranky?”

He laughed, “Not just because you’re cranky and I’d rather not deal with a hostile, sexually-frustrated Y/N for the next 16 hours, but because you’re hot and I’ve thought about it nearly every day since you started at the BAU. Plus, if having sex with you will keep you from asking me how much longer the flight is, I will gladly do it.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” you exclaimed, doing your best to keep your voice down. “You’ve got the whole hot geek thing going on and I’m really into it. I would’ve slept with you a long time ago if you’d told me that.”

He looked around again. “Well…” he smirked, darting his eyes back toward the bathroom. The business class one was a bit larger than the one in coach and miles cleaner, so…why the fuck not? He was hot. You were horny.

“I’ll go in first,” you said. “You follow in a few minutes.” With a smile, she pushed up from her seat and walked toward the bathroom, moving inside and leaning against the sink. For five minutes, you drummed your own fingers against the sink, waiting for Spencer to come to you. Maybe he was fucking with you. Maybe he didn’t actually want you. Maybe he was laughing in his seat right now about how gullible you were. 

A knock at the door startled you, and you opened the door a crack to see who it was. “Hey, what took you so long?”

“I didn’t want to draw any attention to what we were about to do,” he laughed. As you looked up at him, you realized that you were standing closer to him than you ever had before. The smell of his cologne, light as sea foam wafted around your heads. You started out in your seats in disbelief. You weren’t actually going to do this, were you? But when you looked at him, all of the humor vanished from the small room, replaced by tension thicker than butter. “You sure?” he muttered against your lips.

Without a word, your lips grazed against his. You’d never kissed him before, and as a shudder rolled through you, you wondered whether you’d ever known the meaning of a kiss before. It was intoxicating. His tongue slowly made its way into your mouth, leading it in a sensual dance as his hands glided down your sides. “Oh my god,” you breathed, swallowing hard as his fingers dipped ever-so-slightly below the waist of your skirt. “I want you.”

“You have me,” he mumbled against your neck. “But you’re going to have to keep it down so we don’t get caught. Think you can do that?”

With a laugh, you shook your head. This was going to be difficult - you weren’t the quiet kind. His hands pulled up the material of your skirt, bunching it around your waist while you unbuttoned your blouse, exposing your lacy bra for his viewing pleasure. “God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, gently biting down on your bottom lip before nibbling a trail to back behind your ear. “So gorgeous.” He licked at the skin on your breasts, moaning at the taste of you. 

Spencer continued to bury his head between your breasts, kissing, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive flesh as you undid his belt. His tongue glided over the lace and toward your nipple, sending a wave of pleasure through you that stopped you in your tracks, your hands hanging limply near his belt buckle. It was only when he pulled the lace underneath your breast and took your nipple in his mouth that you woke up to the sensations, picking up where you left off and pushing his pants down below his knees. “Do you have a condom?” you asked suddenly.

“Yea,” he said, opening his palm. “I came in prepared.” Such a boy scout. You took it from him, ripping the package open with your teeth and placing it in your mouth, so that when you crouched down in front of him, you could sheath him with your mouth. “Oh my god,” he groaned, doing his best to stifle his groans into himself. You couldn’t get it all the way on with your mouth in this position, so you pushed it the rest of the way on and rose to meet his heated gaze again. There was a fire in his eyes you’d only seen when he faced an unsub. 

“Now,” you said, grabbing him by the back of the neck and pulling his face toward yours. Once you lifted your leg, you placed it behind Spencer, bracing it on the wall carefully so as to not make noise. Your other leg lifted up and wrapped around his waist, pulling him into you so that his member was flush against your sex. “I want you inside me now.”

Gently, he reached between you, grabbing and placing himself at your entrance. He looked into your eyes and took your lips in a searing kiss as he pushed upward, your walls enveloping him inch by inch until he was fully enveloped in you. “Fuck, Y/N…” he groaned, his eyes going wide at the warmth of you. Once inside you, you’d both realized how difficult having sex in here was, but you made it work. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into you as he thrusted upward, knocking your head into the wall. His hand came up to cradle he back of your head, while the other reached to your leg, grabbing it firmly as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. 

“Oh hell,” you breathed. “Harder, please.” He swallowed your cry of pleasure as he fucked you harder. Just outside, you could hear someone passing, but you were on a collision course from which there was no return. “Right there, Spence. Right there.” Your nails dug into his back, nearly breaking the skin as he surged into you, his cry of release half strangled in his throat, half released into your neck. “Oh my god. We definitely have to do that in bed later on.”

“Absolutely,” he laughed, removing the condom and pulling up his pants. “We can’t actually have sex in the seats, but I would be all for a little making out when we sit down.” He pressed his lips against yours while you buttoned your shirt back up. Whatever you could get away with on the plane, you were going to do.

He went out first, telling the flight attendant who’d asked what was happening that you didn’t feel well and he’d been holding your hair, but you could tell by her tone that she didn’t buy it. Seconds later, you walked out of the bathroom, adjusting your skirt with a smile. Yea, you thought as she looked at you, she definitely didn’t buy it. Whatever. You were no longer so horny it hurt. “Feeling better?” he laughed as you sat back down in your seat.

“Much,” you replied. You leaned over and gave him a kiss, your tongue just jutting into his mouth, teasing, before pulling away. “When we get off this plane, first thing we’re doing is going back to my apartment.”

TWELVE HOURS OF LOVE UNSPOKEN 1/1

This took me a little longer than I expected but @inkcollectorus @duchov @what-the-fuck-is-magnetite and @vickiweis44 this is for you.  I warn you though - It’s angsty fluff that’s heavy on the angst!  Even my Valentine stuff is angsty shit.  Sorry.

Set in season four Cancer arc and told from a third person POV


TWELVE HOURS OF LOVE UNSPOKEN

By

AllyinthekeyofX

It’s hard not to notice him that first time.  It’s just after 6pm and he is shouting at the nursing staff, refusing to relinquish his hold on the tiny red-headed woman he is cradling in his arms, clutching her to him as the blood on her face transfers to the white cotton of his shirt, drenching them both in a sea of crimson that blooms and grows with every second that passes.   There is in fact, so much blood it’s difficult for me to figure out the source from my vantage point.

She is making an ugly, gurgling, choking sound even as her body jerks against his.  Her head is thrown back and he is desperately trying to still her movement lest she injures herself further, his frantic pleas to the nursing staff increasing in volume until he is practically screaming at them.  

He is in full panic mode; not thinking at this point, simply reacting to the situation he has found himself in and although I’m sure there is a small part of him that recognises that nothing can be done until he allows them to take her from him, sheer primal terror is preventing him from releasing her.

My throat tightens at the sight of him as he finally allows the attending ER staff to take over, the expression on his face one of such yearning as she is transferred to the waiting gurney and wheeled away from him that it literally takes my breath away. His final keening cry reverberating around the large area around us before he collapses to his knees on the linoleum floor that is now speckled with her blood, covering his face with hands that are equally as marked.  His shoulders are shaking and even though he makes no sound, I know from bitter experience that he is weeping.  Hopeless, uncontrollable distress that has no sound; the most painful kind I think.

No one moves.  No one reacts.  As though he is a wounded animal who might attack at any moment and for just a few heartbeats, it’s like time has simply stopped.

And then I force myself to move; to cross the space between us, my training coming to the fore as I pull a pair of surgical gloves from the pocket of my tunic and slip them on to protect myself from the blood that covers him.  Second nature in an environment such as this.

“Sir?”

Tentatively I place my hand on his shoulder, carefully not exerting too much pressure through my touch, but just enough to get his attention because although I don’t consider myself a medical professional, I have lived though more moments like this than I can recall and I know that right now, gentleness is the key.

Keep reading

I’m humbled
— 

But he’s not”humbled”. She’s not “humbled”. You’re not “humbled”. And I sure as fuck am not humbled.  But I am weary of every public jackass who misuses that word. To be humbled is to be brought low or to lower ones self. Do you think our newest Supreme Court Justice, a bright, accomplished guy who surely knows the meaning of the word “humble” was made to feel small by landing the best judicial job in the country? Doubtful. How about a woman who just sank a tough putt to win a tournament? Nope. She’s fucking proud. And happy. Top of the world, ma. 

Words matter. People use them incorrectly and mask their real meaning. Accept enough of this and you’ll believe anything. Like a Sunday in T.J. it’s cheap but it’s not free. It’s more verbal garbage like “concerning” that obscures truth and lets everyone feel warm and happy. Except certain noted internet cranks. Like me. We now return you to our regular feature, Bianca and Natalie, or how I learned to stop worrying and fall in love with women I never meet. 

London and the Culture of Homosexuality -- Masterpost

I’ve finished the book London and the Culture of Homosexuality, 1885-1914 by Matt Cook. We’ve learned a lot along the way and now that it’s finished, I thought I’d compile everything into one post for easier access.

1) Empty train carriages, Molly houses, and moustaches on trial

2) “That’s not a sentence you hear every day” - how modern Sherlock incorporates Victorian-era facial hair code

3) Gay lit is gay, the Criterion bar is gay, Turkish baths are gay, green carnations are gay, button holes are gay

4) Homosexual men loved to liaise at the Criterion Bar

5) TJLC is Real: Carefully-Chosen Words and Public Opinion

6) Sherlock fits a case study of a period-relevant homosexual man

7) Anal violins

8) Gay graffiti worth writing about in your memoirs

9) Cabs were helpful, Gothic romance was queer, literary gay subtext was criminal evidence, the male-on-male gaze was a stand-in for sex, and idealised male nudes were all the rage

10) Every Great Cause Has Martyrs - how language used in the TAB trailer mirrors that used by Victorian homosexual men

11) Did Victorian-Era Gay Men Think Sherlock Holmes Was Gay?

12) The closest thing I’ve ever written to a personal TJLC manifesto

Discussions/asks/misc with other people about the book: here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here

Buy the book online

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Strangers: Homosexual Love in the Nineteenth Century by Graham Robb

X-COPS

“I’m gonna call Skinner, Mulder.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sure he’s going to want to say a few words about this. Guys, give it a rest, huh?”

It’s 10:30pm on a Saturday night, and he’s just sat back down on his couch after grabbing another beer from the fridge when the phone rings. The caller ID only shows the number for the Hoover Building switchboard, but somehow he already knows who it is. (Who else would be calling him via the switchboard this late on a Saturday?) He lets it ring a couple more times while he takes a swig of his beer and steels himself for whatever nonsense is about to be dropped in his lap.

“Skinner.”

“Good evening, sir. I apologize for calling you at home so late.”

“What is it, Agent Scully?”

“Well, sir, as you’re aware, Agent Mulder and I are currently in Los Angeles. And, as it happens, the LA County Sheriff’s Department is also looking into the series of incidents we’re out here investigating.”

“Let me guess. Agent Mulder failed to properly liaise with the local LEOs, and now we’ve got an inter-agency pissing match on our hands?”

“No, that’s… that’s not it at all, actually.”

“He didn’t get himself arrested again, did he?”

“No, sir!”

“Well, get to the point, agent. I know you know what time it is here.”

“Sir, they’re filming an episode of COPS tonight. Here. With the LASD.”

He doesn’t know what he was expecting her to say, but it sure as hell wasn’t that. Inexplicably, he finds himself stifling a laugh; he turns it into a cough. Dear god, Mulder running his mouth about aliens and what-have-you on national TV… he should not be finding this funny at all, and yet…

“Assistant director? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” He clears his throat. “So am I to understand that because the LASD is working cooperatively with you on this investigation, their film crew shadows are now yours as well?”

“That’s correct, yes. And Agent Mulder… well, his working hypothesis for the case is, as you might guess, paranormal in nature, and–”

“Yes, Scully, I’ve met him.”

“Uh… right. So, they can’t use any of the footage they’ve already gathered unless we sign off on it. I assume you want us to refuse?”

Skinner pulls his glasses off and rubs his eyes. On the one hand, the probability of Mulder saying something that will make himself (and possibly also the Bureau as a whole) look foolish is incredibly high. On the other hand, Skinner’s got a friend in that industry; he knows that rather than waste the film, the show’s producers will insist on simply blurring his agents’ faces and garbling their voices instead, and he won’t be able to get around that without a big legal fight. And if they do that, it’ll just look like the Bureau’s hiding something, which will end up an even bigger PR mess on balance. Plus, he has no doubt that Scully will do her usual thing of tempering Mulder’s eccentricity and countering his more bizarre theories. And also, despite everything, Mulder is ultimately a good agent. It probably won’t be that bad.

Fuck it. Let them get filmed. If everything goes to shit and Mulder does something even more ridiculous than usual, they can always change their minds before the show goes to air.

“Nah. Cooperate with the film crew. Keep me posted if things totally go belly-up, but short of an emergency, I don’t need to hear from you again until tomorrow morning at the earliest. Are we clear on that?”

“Sir? A-are you sure that’s wise?”

“The FBI has nothing to hide, Agent Scully. That’ll be all.”

He hangs up the phone and shakes his head, then replaces his glasses and reaches for his beer. Those two are going to drive him to an early retirement, he has no doubt.

So Close I Can Taste It, I See What's Mine And Take It- Prologue Part 1/?

Summary: You are the daughter of Robert Baratheon. During the events of S6, you are reluctantly sent to secure an alliance. It is not what you expect.

Paring: Eventual Euron Greyjoy x reader

Warning: None in this chapter. Swearing, violence and smut in later chapters.

A/N: Haven’t written anything in months. I wanted to write for Euron as there’s not much out there. No Euron in the prologue but he is incoming in Part 2 which I am writing now.

*********

Your mouth straightened into a tight line and you eyed the trunk the squire had placed at your door.

“I will not be going. If you think I’m going to be shipped off this easily you’re mad”

The squire shifted in his steel plate armour, ill-fitted cloak hanging loose around his shoulders. He looked even younger than Tommen and could not meet your eyes, If you hadn’t been so angry, you might have laughed. A boy, barely a man sent to give an order to Lady Y/N Baratheon

“It is on orders of King Tommen, m'lady, he believes you can secure us a stronger, better alliance,” the squire checked the scroll he held again.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. That was doubtful. It was most likely the Queen of Thorns. Ever since Queen Margaery had been imprisoned by the Faith Militant, Tommens grandmother by law had no doubt been whispering in his ear. You cursed under your breath, why did your brother have to be so easily led

You knew deep down you would have been a stronger, better ruler than either Tommen or Joffrey. You were the eldest and first born, however you were a woman so the throne had passed over you to Joffrey. Your younger brother had been a cruel, vindictive fool of a king, Tommen was kinder, yes but too soft to be considered a truly great king. Margaery and her grandmother knew this too and they’d dug those thorns in early.

“I am a Baratheon. My place is in Kings Landing, I am the first born child and last daughter of King Robert, Kings Landing is my home. People have been trying to ship me off for years, I always come back, I belong in the capital, I do not want to be sent off to spend my days on some damned rocks in the middle of the sea. I am sick of boring Lords, their lecherous sons and stuffy attitudes,”

“The King is insistent. He believes you were able to persuade a Lord with a large calvary to support your other brother during the war of the five kings,”

His words rung true. You had learned how to play the game from your mother and grandfather.

“If his Grace want to liaise with the Iron Islands, then tell him to send one of his small council. He can send you for all I care, just leave me be,” you trailed off.

The squire sighed deeply and rose his gaze from the floor for the first time.

“It is….also for your safety, with the Faith Militant in Kings Landing…he wants to get you out,”

“My safety? Have you been to the Iron Islands?” You choked back a laugh. This was definitely the work of the Queen of Thorns pulling strings. “I want to speak with the Queen Regent, where is my mother?”

After Myrcella’s murder at the hand of the Dornish, you knew there was no way Cersei Lannister would have a daughter sent to the Iron Islands. If the Dornish could kill an innocent girl promised to one of their own, there was no guarantee of your safety anywhere

His eyes shot back to the floor “She is in her chambers, she is not to be disturbed unless the King allows it”

You ran a hand through your hair “Send for the King…my brother, I wish to speak with him”

The squire looked at you for only the second time, then at the trunk. “I am sorry m'lady, he is with his council. He is busy, Your ship to Pyke leaves on the morrow, by orders of King Tommen, you will be on it”

My Shot

A/N: A request where the reader was a member of the BAU, but took a hiatus to pursue a lifelong dream, in this case, singing in a Broadway play (Hamilton). The team comes to see the show again near the end of her run, and she tells them that she’ll be coming back to work. @coveofmemories

                                                             —-

Growing up, you’d had two passions in life, singing and law enforcement. Complete and total opposites - but you couldn’t help it. Those two passions had forever been emblazoned in your soul, but you’d always steered more toward law enforcement because the likelihood of a job in the field was more likely than striking it big in music. 

But one day, about nine months earlier, an old friend of yours, who’d always known how much you loved singing, asked if you wanted to try out for Hamilton: The Musical, because she could get you in for an audition. You figured why the fuck not. Since you loved to sing and never really got the chance to do it, you assumed this would be as close as you’d ever get to the music business - a Broadway try-out.

Much to your surprise, you got called for a second try-out, and then a final one. “Wait…you want me to play Eliza Hamilton?” you asked, the reality not actually sinking in. You would never get an opportunity like this again, but you worked full-time for the BAU - and you did love your job. 

The day you were offered the role, you asked them to give you a couple of days to think about. Thankfully, they did - giving you a deadline of three days later before they would offer it to the next person on the list. When you’d walked into the BAU to tell the team about where you’d been going on those nights they asked you to come to dinner and what had actually transpired, they were all ecstatic for you. “But what am I supposed to do?” you’d asked. “I’m a profiler with the BAU, not a Broadway singer.” Were you supposed to just up and leave? That didn’t feel right. But you also didn’t want to give up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

“Talk to Chief Strauss,” Hotch had suggested much to your surprise. “Ask her to liaise with us for the entirety of your run, that way you’re technically still employed and in what is it, six months, you can come back as long as you want to.”

“Really?” Everyone had nodded their heads, saying that if this was a passion for you, then you should try and find a way to make it happen; you’d regret it if you didn’t. And you would have. But thankfully, Chief Strauss had been okay with the idea, insisting she be invited to watch the show along with the rest of the team.

Fast forward to right now, five and a half months into your six-month run, and the team had been to see you twice already, and tonight they were coming for a third time. JJ was bringing Will and Henry (who’d never been before), Emily and Penelope would be there, Hotch would be bringing Jack (who’d also never seen it), Rossi would be bringing a cigar he could smoke during intermission, Derek would be there with his date for the night, and Spencer would be coming along with Chief Strauss in tow; her car had broken down and Spencer lived closest to her. 

Although you hadn’t heard much about the book or play before you tried out, you fell more in love with the musical every night you performed. The musical about the life of one of America’s founding fathers, Alexander Hamilton, transcended its time period, making valid points that still reflected the world you lived in today. And the music you got to sing, well, it was amazing. You’d always imagined that singing the same songs day in and day out would cause that feeling of elation to go away, but it still hadn’t left you. “Hello, my loves,” you said, dressed in your opening outfit as your friends got there early, as they had both times before. “Looking forward to seeing this for the third time?”

“Absolutely,” Garcia said, already looking like she was about to cry. After both performances, she’d done the fanning-your-face-so-your-makeup-doesn’t-run move, failing miserably both times to keep herself from looking like a raccoon. Spencer gave you a hug and a kiss on the cheek, something that had only started recently (making you wonder if seeing you in this new light made him feel differently toward you). By the time you’d given everyone a hug and kiss, thanking them for coming to see you yet again, it was nearly time to start, so you headed backstage, leaving them in the front row. 

As the show started, you danced backstage while waiting for your time to shine. After The Schuyler Sisters, Helpless was your next song. That one was always fun.

Grab my sister, and
Whisper, “Yo, this
One’s mine.”

My sister made her way across the room to you
And I got nervous, thinking “What’s she gonna do?”
She grabbed you by the arm, I’m thinkin’ “I’m through”
Then you look back at me and suddenly I’m
Helpless!

The show continued on, with you being ushered on and off stage with ease. At this point, after more than 100 shows, you knew exactly where you had to be and when. You even some of the lines that weren’t your own. Without a doubt, your favorite song to sing, was Burn - the song Eliza sang after finding out about Alexander’s betrayal.

I’m erasing myself from the narrative
Let future historians wonder how Eliza
Reacted when you broke her heart
You have torn it all apart
I am watching it
Burn
Watching it burn
The world has no right to my heart
The world has no place in our bed
They don’t get to know what I said
I’m burning the memories
Burning the letters that might have redeemed you
You forfeit all rights to my heart
You forfeit the place in our bed
You sleep in your office instead
With only the memories
Of when you were mine
I hope that you burn

After finishing the song, you always received roaring applause, your team members the ones soaking in the most tears. It always warmed your heart to see how excited they were for you. Your heart would always feel lighter than air as you left the stage, and by the time the end came around, and you walked onto the stage to a standing ovation along with the rest of your cast, you’d be on cloud nine, insistent you’d never be able to come off it. “How are you all?” you asked, descending the stage stairs as you walked over to the team. Penelope was once again in full raccoon makeup, composing herself while everyone else gave you a hug. 

“Phenomenal once again,” Morgan said. “Who knew you had such rhythm?” He’d said the same thing the first two times, but apparently it still stunned him that you had rhythm.

“I did, you just never believed me.”

Emily stared toward the stage in awe. “I can’t believe how seamlessly you fit in with the BAU and here. It makes no sense. It’s so different.” 

“I’m just weird like that,” you replied. “It’s been amazing. They did actually offer to keep me here for another six-month run.”

“Really?” JJ said. “That’s amazing.”

It was flattering to have been offered, but you had already declined. You could tell your voice was starting to strain and didn’t want to crap out in the middle of another run, and more than that, you did miss your team and your job. Singing was a passion, probably your biggest one, but your job was who you were, and you didn’t want to be away from it any longer. “It is. And I’m flattered, but I already told them no. I miss you guys too much.”

“Thank god,” Penelope said hugging you, finally composed after her cry fest. “We’ve missed you too. Occasionally, you might have to sing for us though.”

“Deal.”

Daddy’s Girl (Steve Mcgarrett/Father)

Imagine being Steve Mcgarrett’s daughter and showing up out of the blue in his office…Steve has a hard time adjusting…

Note: decided to do a series from my original “Daddy’s Girl” post.

Originally posted by h50europe

Chin walked out of his office looking over a file glancing up briefly when he saw some movement in front of him. He paused seeing a young woman in front of him, “Can help you, miss?”

You turned to him adjusting your backpack on your shoulder, “Yeah…I’m looking for someone.”

“Danny, for the last time!” Steve raised his voice following this snarky partner into their headquarters, “I’ll pay from now on!”

“I will believe it when I see it.” Danny scoffed as Chin walked out of Steve’s office. Danny gave him a weird look, “What are you the boss now? I’d like that…”

“Haha…” Steve put his hands on his hips seeing someone sitting in front of his desk, “Chin, what’s going on?”

“Uh…” Chin crossed his arms over his chest, “Well…”

“Chin, spit it out, we got work to do.” Steve smiled a little referring to the case they were working on.

“Do you know a Maria Andrews?” Chin asked, “Might have met her…about seventeen years ago.”

Steve squinted a little, “Yeah…is that her in there?”

“No…that’s not her.” Chin swallowed, “That’s her daughter, Y/N…she’s here to see you.”

“To see me? Why?” Steve crossed his arms looking at Chin.

Danny cleared his throat when Chin looked to him for help. He had connected the dots a bit quicker then Steve was, “Uh, I think what Chin is failing to say is…”

“Steve Mcgarrett?” They all turned looking to you standing outside of Steve’s office.

Steve glanced between Chin and Danny before stepping toward you, “Uh, yeah, what can I do for you?”

You stared at him for a moment, “I’m you’re daughter.”

“…” Danny watched Steve tense up before looking at Chin who nodded. Finally Steve swallowed, “What?”

“Yeah…I know…mom didn’t tell you.” You told him staring up at him in the same intense manner that he did to people, “Finding out who you were was a lot like breaking into Fort Knox.”

Steve watched you walk into his office grabbing your bag, “You met my mom when you were stationed overseas…she was a liaison’s assistant or something.”

You held out a photo of your mom and him. He stared at it for a moment before looking up to you again, “Yeah…I remember.”

“Well…apparently you and she spent a week…liaising yourselves…” You told him tilting your head a little.

“I don’t…”

“Yeah…you do.” You looked over to Chin, “Show him.”

Steve looked to Chin who slowly turned to the computer desk swiping up a DNA result, “I had Fong put a rush on it…She wanted to know right away.”

Steve stared at the results clearly saying he was father. He swallowed looking down at the picture again. He remembered Maria…She was good at her job. He turned to eventually staring into your eyes, “Is everything okay? Is your mom…”

“She’s fine.” You crossed your arms tightly, “As much as she can be I guess…”

“What does that mean?” His eyebrows came together.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, “Look I came here…because I need your signature.”

“My signature…” He followed you into his office, “You flew here for a signature?”

You paused looking at him, “Mostly…I suppose I’m a little curious about my paternal father too…but really I’m here to get emancipated.”

“Emancipated?” His eyebrows shot up.

“Are you going to repeat every word at the end of my sentences?” Your eyes narrowed slightly, “Cause that’s a little annoying.”

“Wh..why would you need to be emancipated? Your mom had a great job.” He watched you pull out a folder from your pack.

“Key word had.” You looked at him taking a deep breath seeing his face, “She had a good job…now she waits with my step dad each month for a disability check…which they use for rent and their favorite meal brown bottle.”

He listened as you went on, “So, I made a deal with her when I was 10 that if I graduated high school by 16 she would help me find you and get me to you. Well, she helped with one and found out you were here a few years ago. I have been saving up a plane ever sense.”

“You graduated high school?” He asked quietly feeling a sick feeling form in his chest.

“Year earlier then expected…Summa cum laude…” You told him pulling out a paper holding it out to him, “Once you sign this I am considered an adult and neither you or my mom have to worry about me anymore.”

Steve stood there staring at you, thoughts racing through his mind. Ones that his Navy SEAL trained mind couldn’t even process. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Chin opening his door, “Steve, I’m sorry…but we have a break. Haku was spotted…”

“Right.” He nodded looking to you, “I’m sorry…this is really important. I have to go…”

“Okay…” You looked at the paper nodding slowly putting it back in the folder.

“Hey.” You looked up to him seeing that he didn’t want to leave this conversation open ended, “We’re gonna talk when I get back, okay? Just hang out here, I’m gonna have a friend drop off some lunch.”

“Okay.” You watched him walk out briefly before turning around.

“You’re not allergic to shrimp are you?” He looked at you concerned.

“I don’t know…I’ve never had it.” You told him holding the folder close to his chest.

“Right…I’ll see you later.” He nodded to you before you watched him through the windows grab some gear and run out.

“So…” Danny glanced at him as they entered the hall.

“Not now.” Steve told him pushing the door open feeling the sun hit him.

“No nonono…you don’t get to push this to the side buddy.” Danny told him as they ran for the car.

“Danny,” Steve looked at him, “Haku the terrorist first…new daughter later.” 

Danny sighed getting into the passenger side of the car, “You know…she does have constipation face…”

“Shut up…” 

Shifting Narratives - Part One

“Avengers Assemble! We have a case” Garcia’s voice came across the bullpen closely followed by a collective groan. It was 4pm on a Friday and everyone had been hoping for an early start to the weekend.

“Sorry guys” said Emily as the team traipsed into the briefing room “This one is time sensitive. Who remembers the Harrison Michael Taylor case?”

“That was about seven years ago right?” said Luke “He abducted and killed a number of teenage girls?”

“Correct Newbie. Eight in total over ten years. He was arrested in 2010 along with his girlfriend Connie Georgette. Taylor confessed  but there was a huge question mark over the extent of Connie’s involvement. She has always refused to talk about the murders and didn’t defend herself at trial despite pleading not guilty.”

“She was seen with victim number six about four hours before her death” explained JJ “Plus the house they both shared was filled with trophies from not only their kills but a number of other girls that Harrison had stalked over the years” added Emily.

“But Harrison claimed he committed all the murders on his own right?” Rossi jumped in “Claimed that Connie was completely unaware”

“Yeah except there was no way that she didn’t at least know what was going on” said Emily. Her eyes flicked round the table before settling on Spencer who hadn’t spoken, hadn’t even looked up since they had started. Emily felt something twist in her stomach before Tara’s voice brought her back to the discussion.

“Why are we being called in now?”

“There have been a number of…developments”

“Sounds intriguing” quipped Rossi.

“That’s a massive understatement” said Garcia

“First of all a documentary filmmaker, Y/N, has been working on a film about the case and during several interviews Harrison has implied that there were more than just the eight victims” explained Emily.

“Isn’t Y/N the one who made that series about the guy falsely imprisoned for murder?” asked JJ.

“Yes!” Garcia’s face lit up ‘It was an indie series, she started working on it in her final year of film school and then she got tonnes of funding, it streamed online and became this sleeper hit. Seriously I watched the entire thing on my day off, bathroom breaks only”

“Aren’t you surrounded by that stuff everyday? I mean you’re the Queen of Kitten videos so why binge something like that?” asked Luke.

“Because Newbie the entire thing was super uplifting. That kid, Jake Mahoney was sent to prison when he was sixteen. No one believed him except Y/N, they were school friends. Can you imagine what that does to a person?”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop in an instant. Garcia’s eyes widened as she realised. Six pairs of eyes swivelled round to Spencer who didn’t so much as flinch, he just kept his eyes fixed on the file though it was clear he wasn’t reading.

“What else was there?” said Rossi after a few moments of awkward silence “You said there were a number of complications”

“Yes” said Emily “Recently Connie got a new lawyer who is arguing that she was coerced into helping Harrison. Connie came from an abusive home and had a history of being taken advantage of by domineering and violent men.”

“The case is being re-examined” explained Garcia.

“They want us to see if there is any credibility to either of these new theories” said Emily “Harrison is refusing to speak with us unless Y/N is allowed to keep making her film and Connie has only agreed to see her lawyer, her mother and just recently Y/N since she was incarcerated. It’s not going to be easy.”

“Is this filmmaker going to make things difficult for us?” asked Rossi.

“She’s a crusader for truth!” said Garcia “You know the whole protector of the weak, fighting for those who can’t fight for themselves schtick. I follow her on Twitter, she’s crazy passionate about this”

“Bet the publicity doesn’t help either” said JJ

“Get yourselves ready, wheels up in forty. Spencer can I talk to you a sec?”

Spencer kept his face blank as the rest of the team filed out after a moment’s hesitation. Emily didn’t speak until they were alone.

“I got a call from Cruz, you missed your last appointment with the therapist” she said flatly.

“I…lost track of time. I’ll make it up next week” said Spencer. Emily fixed him with a look of disbelief.

“Spencer I don’t need to tell you how important those sessions are and not just because they’re a condition of your probation-”

“I know” snapped Spencer “It was a one time mistake. It’s not going to happen again”

“You have six months left until your evaluation. Cruz and I had to fight to get you reinstated” said Emily, her voice rising “I know you have been through something horrific but for God’s sake Spencer…”

Spencer knew deep down that she was right. That didn’t mean he was happy about it. He thought when they cleared his name it was over, that after they rescued his mother that things could finally get back to normal but he’d still broken bureau protocol and apparently the higher ups no longer “trusted his judgement”. Fourteen years at the FBI and he’s gone from the golden boy to a screw up in a few months.

“There’s something else” added Emily, with a note of hesitancy “Obviously Harrison is in prison and that’s where we’re interviewing him so it’s probably best if you sit this one out”

“What?” Spencer leapt to his feet “You can’t do that!”

“I am not sending you back inside a prison. That’s final”

“What the hell am I supposed to do here?”

“Rearrange you’re therapy session for starters, there’s paperwork and we have requests for overviews and profiles from a number of-”

“No” said Spencer “Just-no I’m not staying here. I am a part of this team and I’m coming with you even if I can’t go into the prison”.

Emily was silent for a long time. She felt conflicted. On the one hand she didn’t want risk Spencer’s well being but on the other hand it wouldn’t be much better if he was isolated from the team.

“Okay” she said finally “You can come but you stay at the police station, we’re liaising with the locals in the case of more bodies.”

“Thank you” said Spencer as the tension left his body.

“Don’t thank me till this is over” warned Emily


The filmmaker life was far less glamorous that most people would believe. You had spent about half your time living out of your van in the midst of second hand recording equipment and multi-packs of energy drinks. Thankfully a grant from an arts charity meant that for the last month you had been able to stay in a cheap motel about half an hour away from the prison.

Today was going to be tough. Truth be told, Harrison’s ultimatum to the FBI made you uncomfortable  for several reasons. Firstly, you didn’t want anyone to assume you were an ally of Harrison’s, that you were somehow deluded enough to think he was innocent or, even worse, that you condoned his crimes. You were interested in what drove him to do those things, what helped him evade capture for so long and, if you were honest, what was the mindset of a man who knew he was going to die in prison.

As you drove up to the police station your mind turned to Connie - the reason you got involved in all of this in the first place. After seeing your documentary about Jake, Connie’s mother had sent you an email. Gillian was convinced of her daughter’s innocence and she wanted you to help Connie like you helped Jake. You explained that it was easier said than done but that you would look into it at the very least but here you were all this time later, ready to meet an elite team from the FBI. 

This wasn’t going to be fun. You had no doubt that the FBI wasn’t interested in working with an outsider, a suspicion that was partially confirmed when you met the team.

“SSA Prentiss” the woman in charge stuck out her hand after Captain Nelson had introduced you.

“Y/N” you answered as you shook her hand “I’ve been reading up about the BAU, you guys do some seriously impressive work”

“These are agents Jareau, Rossi, Alvez and Doctors Lewis and Reid” said Prentiss, indicating each member in turn “Since it’s late we’re going to spend tonight getting up to date with the case and what your impressions of Mr Taylor and Ms Georgette are from your interviews”

“I’m not a profiler”

“No” said the woman introduced as Dr Lewis “But you clearly understand people and you’ve spent a lot of time talking to Mr Taylor”

“He’s spent a lot of time performing for me” you clarified, and you saw a smile tug at the corner of Dr Lewis’ lips “I want to make it clear from where I’m standing he’s guilty as hell and he’s a danger to anyone who comes in contact”

“Good to hear” said Prentiss “Tell us everything you know”

Tagging: @teatimewithtiya @cherry-loves-fanfic @rachficrecs @frickin-bats @http-natiii @milkandcookies528 @criminal-navy-writings @reiding-and-writing@remember-me-forever-silent-angel  @brooke0297

Masquerade 6: Interlude - Fall To Your Knees

Notes: As I said on here and on twitter, this is a backstory chapter, a lot of people were wanting to know why Victor feels so strongly about Yuuri, and here is a novel as to why. RIP me I don’t want to look at this chapter ever again. 

Find the rest of Masquerade here or on Ao3 here



There is a hell, believe me I’ve seen it. There is a heaven, let’s keep it a secret.

- BMTH

Somewhere, someone was prodding at old wounds. Trying to start the same old war.

And Yuuri couldn’t stem the flow of rising unease in his chest that said this might be where him and Victor would be given their last chance to walk away from each other in one piece.

The incident where he’d nearly killed Victor in Hong Kong seemed to mean nothing now, that fresh scar above his hip, that small thread of trust they’d forged was now frayed under the tension of repeated conflict between the two families. Yuuri thought that this might be one of the biggest trials he would ever face, and if he didn’t come out of it alive, then it meant he simply wasn’t strong enough.

Keep reading

New Beginnings - Four

“Well Agent Y/N, I think we’ve covered most of the important details this morning. You fully understand what your responsibilities within the team will be?“

You looked back across the desk at Aaron Hotchner, the man you’d been liaising with via email for the past few months, since you’d accepted your new position. 

“Yes sir. To take over from yourself as media liaison and to assist yourself and Penelope Garcia with the selection of cases.”

Agent Hotchner nodded at you. “Obviously you will also be assisting the team on cases out in the field. It’s pleasing to see that you have put yourself through the same training courses the rest of the team have completed. You didn’t have to complete all of them you know. The majority of your qualifications from the UK would have been transferable.”

“I know this sir, but I thought it best that I receive the same training as the others.”

Agent Hotchner nodded at you again. “Well I dare say you’ll be a valuable member to this team. You come highly recommended from the National Crime Agency and your superiors there had nothing but positive things to say about you. It seems you were on fast track for a promotion there as well. Can I ask why you felt the need for the change in both agencies and countries?”

“I assume the details of what happened to me when I was 18 are in my file?” you questioned, knowing the answer. It was, it always was. 

“They are, but that part of the file has been locked and will only be made accessible by those I deem necessary,” he assured you and you smiled gratefully. 

“Well last year I received some news concerning the incident. And I no longer wished to remain in the same country. I made my feelings known to the director who suggested I look at the FBI as an option. Given my father’s heritage and the amount of time I spent in the states as a teenager, I already had dual citizenship so it seemed the obvious choice. I went through the relevant channels of communication and application and now here I am." 

"Well we’re glad to have you,”  Agent Hotchner spoke again. “When Agent Jareau was transferred out myself and Penelope took on her role as media liaison and split it between us. Adding her duties to our already sizable workloads has placed extra pressure on the team so it will be a relief to hand some of it back. Now before I introduce you to the rest of the team, is there anything else you’d like to talk about?”

You took a deep breath. “Actually sir, there is.”

You leaned forward in your chair and explained how you had come to know two of his agents already. When you’d finished you were sure you could detect a hint of a smile on his lips. 

“So you’re the reason Reid has had a smile on his face for the last two weeks?” he asked. “You know the FBI doesn’t actually have a code against departmental relationships. As long as it doesn’t become an issue and affect your work.”

“Erm,” you coughed. “We are just friends at the moment sir. It was only when I read your email last night that I realised we’d be working together. I thought you should know that we do know each other outside of work that’s all.” You told him how you’d both agreed not to discuss your jobs. 

“So Dr Reid doesn’t have a clue you’ll be working together?”

You shook your head and Agent Hotchner laughed. “This should be interesting then. Come on Agent Y/N. Let’s go meet the team.”

Agent Hotchner strolled out of his office, holding his door open for you and leading the way across the area known as the bullpen. 

You followed him nervously over to a group of desks where you could see the team were gathered. Both Spencer and Derek were there already although Spencer was stood with his back to you. 

With them was a man you recognised as David Rossi, whose books you’d devoured,  along with a brightly dressed blonde woman who wore luminous green glasses. Next to them stood a slim brunette who you also recognised. 

“Guys, I’d like you to meet the newest member of our team.” Agent Hotchner started. 

Derek looked up from his phone, saw you, and immediately started laughing loudly, shaking his head as he did.

“Sweet cheeks what’s so funny? I’m normally the only one who can make you laugh like that,” blonde woman addressed him looking confused, glancing over at you and giving you a quick once over. 

Derek was still chuckling as he kept looking at Spencer and then back to yourself. “Man this is going to good,” he said. “Pretty boy, turn around.“ 

Spencer Reid did as instructed and you watched as his jaw dropped and his eyes widened when we saw you standing there. "What the fu…..” you heard him murmur quietly.

“Team, this is Agent Y/F/N. She’s joining us from the National Crimes Agency in the UK and will be taking on some of the responsibilities that Agent Jareau dealt with. Let’s make her feel welcome and show her the ropes.” Agent Hotchner introduced you individually to each member of the team,  the members that you hadn’t previously met all shaking your hand and smiling their greetings to you. 

“I believe you already know Agent Morgan." 

Derek smirked and gave you a half hug, "Hey Kitten.”

“And finally Dr Reid, who I also believe you know.”

“Hey Spence,” you waved at him. He still hadn’t moved. 

“Spence?” You heard the blonde woman you now knew as Penelope Garcia whisper softly. “Oh… Oh…OH!”  She grinned at you, her hands clapping happily. “You’re the girl he was telling us about, the one who’s just moved into his building. Oh, it all makes sense now.”

“Ohhhhhh,”  you heard Agents Rossi and Prentiss breathe together, both looking at Spencer who still hadn’t moved. 

“What’s up genius? I’ve never seen you this lost for words.” Emily nudged him. 

“Erm…. I-I….erm… But. … Erm, ” he spluttered finally squeaking out a, “Hi” to you. 

“Cat got your tongue Reid?” Rossi asked him. 

“More like kitten got his tongue,” Derek teased. You glared at him, seeing Spencer turn red. 

“Well I guess we don’t need to have that big conversation about our jobs anymore,” you said softly.

He shook his head. “Nope,” he whispered, his eyes finally meeting yours.

Agent Hotchner broke the tension. “Right team now introductions have been made, Garcia and Y/N, if you could both meet in my office. There’s a stack of cases for us to start going over. The rest of you, use today to finish off any paperwork you need to.”

Garcia grabbed your hand. “Oh I can’t wait to get to know you. I want to know everything. And don’t hold back. Oh we’re going to be great friends I can already feel it!” she pulled you along excitedly leading you back to the office.  

You glanced around catching Spencer’s eye. He still looked shell shocked. You two needed to talk. 

Tagging:

@sierra—king
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@reading-vs-reality
@violent-delights-violent-endsx
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@jinx-mind

Le Passé Composé - Masterpost

The passé composé is the most commonly used past tense in French.

It is formed using the following formula:

  • subject + avoir or être (conjugated in the present tense) + past participle

Conjugating avoir and être 

In the present tense, avoir (to have) is conjugated as follows:

  • je - ai ¹          | nous - avons
  • tu - as           | vous - avez
  • il/elle/on - a   | ils/elles - ont ²

In the present tense, être (to be) is conjugated as follows:

  • je - suis           | nous - sommes
  • tu - es              | vous - êtes
  • il/elle/on - est  | ils/elles - sont  

Forming the past participle

  • For regular -er verbs, drop -er and add -é (parler → parlé)
  • For regular -re verbs, drop -re and add -u (vendre  → vendu)
  • For regular -ir verbs , drop -ir and add -i (finir → fini)

Forms of past participles:

  • Nearly all past participles use the following endings to indicate gender and number:
    •               __Masculine__|__Feminine____
    • Singular |     é / u / i       |      ée / ue / ie
    • Plural     |   és / us / is    |   ées / ues / ies

Common irregular past participles:

  • être (to be) → été
  • faire (to do, make) → fait ³
  • offrir (to offer)  → offert ³
  • ouvrir (to open)  → ouvert ³
  • naître (to be born)  → né
  • mourir (to die)  → mort ³
  • avoir (to have) → eu
  • boire (to drink) → bu
  • connaître (to know) → connu
  • coire (to believe) → cru
  • devoir (must; to owe) → dû
  • lire (to read) → lu
  • pleuvoir (to rain) → plu
  • pouvoir (can; to be able to)  → pu
  • recevoir (to receive) → reçu
  • savoir (to know) → su
  • voir (to see) → vu
  • vouloir (to want) → voulu
  • venir (to come) → venu
  • mettre (to place)  → mis ³
  • prendre (to take) → pris ³
  • conduire (to drive) → conduit ³
  • dire (to say)→ dit ³
  • écrire (to write)  → écrit ³
  • asseoir (to sit down) → assis ³

Irregular verbs formed from other irregular verbs use the same base for their past participles: 

  • mettre → mis; permettre (to permit, allow) → permis
  • ouvrir → ouvert; couvrir (to cover) → couvert

When to use avoir or être

The majority of French verbs use avoir in the passé composé. Default to avoir, barring the following exceptions:

  • The following verbs usually use être as its auxilary verb ⁴ in the passé composé. They often have to do motion, but not all verbs of motion use être . They therefore must be memorized. 
    • aller - to go
    • arriver - to arrive
    • descendre ⁵   - to descend / go downstairs
    • entrer ⁵  - to enter
    • monter ⁵ - to climb
    • mourir - to die
    • naître ⁵   - to be born
    • partir ⁵ - to leave
    • passer - to pass
    • rester - to stay
    • retourner - to return
    • sortir ⁵ - to go out
    • tomber ⁵  - to fall
    • venir ⁶ - to come
  • All pronominal verbs, without exception, use être in the passé composé. 

Agreement in the passé composé

Agreement with avoir

  • The past participle normally agrees in gender and number with the direct object (or direct object pronoun) if it precedes the verb, barring the exceptions that follow.
    • J’ai lu les lettres. (I read the letters.)
    • Je les ai lues. (I read them.)
    • J’ai ouvert les lettres. (I opened the letters.)
    • Les lettres qui j’ai ouvertes sont lá-bas. (The letters that I opened are over there.) 
  • Exceptionally, the past participle does not have to agree with the direct object in causative constructions or with certain constructions with verbs of perception ⁷.
    • Je les a fait lire les lettres. (I made them read the letters.)
    • Les lettres que j’ai vu écrire. (I saw the letters get written.)

Agreement with être

  • The past participle must always agree with the subject with non-pronominal verbs that use être. 
    • Elle est allée à la poste pour déposer les lettres. (She went to the post office to drop off the letters.)
    • Vous êtes parties de la poste avec les lettres. (You (f.pl.) left the post office with the letters.)
  • The past participle must agree with the reflexive pronoun of pronominal verbs when the reflexive pronoun is the direct object. It does not agree with the indirect object.
    • Elle s’est asisse à son bureau quand elle lisait la lettre. (She sat herself down at her desk when she was reading the letter.
    • Nous nous sommes envoyés des lettres. (We sent each other letters.) 

Negating in the passé composé

Add the standard ne… pas construction around avoir or être, excluding the subject and past participle. Include objective and adverbial pronouns that precede the auxiliary verb ⁸. When using inversion, include the subject and the verb between the negative constructions. 

  • Je n’ai pas écrit ces lettres (I did not write those letters.)
  • Je ne les ai pas écrits ces lettres. (I did not write them.)
  • Je ne suis pas allé à la poste pour déposer les lettres. (I did not go to the post office to drop off the letters.)
  • Je n’y suis pas allé. (I did not go there.)
  • N’êtes-vous pas retournés de la poste ? (Did you return from the post office?)

Questioning in the passé composé

Questions are formed in the passé composé using the inversion or est-ce que constructions.

  • Avez-vous déja écrit les lettres ? (Do you write the letters yet?)
  • Est-ce qu’ils sont allés à la poste ? (Did they go to the post office?)
  • Pourquoi n’avez-vous pas envoyé les lettres ? (Why did you not send the letters?)

Questions can be asked informally using standard SVO word order with a question tone at the end of the sentence.

  • Tu as déja envoyé les lettres ? (You sent the letters already?)

Translating the passé composé

The passé composé can be translated as [verb + ed], [to have + past participle] or [did / do + verb].

  • J’ai écrit les lettres. (I wrote / have written / did write the letters.)

¹ je and ai are elided as j’ai.

² Be sure to liaise the s and o to distinguish it from sont, the third person plural form of être.

³ These verbs use irregular past participle forms to indicate gender and number:

  • Fait, ouvert, offert, conduit, écrit, dit, and mort use the following:
    • _______|__Masculine__|__Feminine__
    • Singular |         ∅         |         e
    • Plural    |          s          |         es
  • Mis, pris, and assis use the following:
    • _______|__Masculine__|__Feminine__
    • Singular |         ∅         |         e
    • Plural    |         ∅          |        es

⁴ when used intransitively. When they take a direct object, they use avoir instead. 

⁵ These verbs can add re- to make verbs that indicate that the action was repeated; these derivatives use être as well. 

⁶ venir has the following derivatives: devenir (to become), parvenir (to reach, achieve), and revenir (to come again, come back); these use être as well. 

⁷ The six verbs of perception are apercevoir (to catch a glimpse of), écouter (to listen) entendre (to hear), regarder (to watch), sentir (to feel), and voir (to see); the past participle never agrees with the direct object of the infinitive; the past participle agrees with the subject of the infinitive when it precedes the verb.

⁸ Objective and adverbial pronouns precede the auxiliary verb and succeed the subject. 

How to Build a Client List

Winning new business and keeping it is central to the success of any new venture. The ability to maintain a client list is also vital if you work in a competitive sales environment. Putting an advert in local business and classified listings and hoping will only get you so far. If you’re going to build a solid customer base and grow, you need to aggressively chase market share and make sure you’re doing all you can to keep your clients happy.

Step 1

Prepare two spreadsheets to store the contact details of your clients. Use one to keep the details of customers you’re currently trading with, and the other to record information about clients you’ve dealt with in the past and potential new business. Use a cloud-based spreadsheet service or make more than one copy of your client lists to ensure you don’t lose information if you experience IT problems. Update and review each list religiously as you gain new business or come across possible leads.

Step 2

Create a professional-looking and functional website and a social media presence. No matter how small or large your business, a solid online platform will not only pull in clients searching for the goods or services your company provides, it will also act as an important point of reference for potential customers you contact when touting for new business. If you don’t have the necessary skills yourself, retain the services of a web designer and an SEO copywriter.

Step 3

Put together a brief letter introducing yourself to potential clients. Include a short outline of your work history and previous achievements and a description of the goods or services you’re offering. Create a basic template you can alter for specific individuals or companies.

Step 4

Ask your predecessor for her client list. If you’ve just started a new sales role and the person you’re taking over from is moving on to another industry sector where it’s unlikely she’ll be selling to the same individuals or companies, ask if she wouldn’t mind passing on her contacts. You can do the same if you’ve just bought an existing business. Although you’ll inherit regular trade that’s already on the company’s books when you take over, it will still be worth your while to ask the previous proprietor for any additional leads he may have. Call the contacts you get to introduce yourself and follow up by sending personalized letters.

Step 5

Check local business listings for companies that may require your services. If you’re selling directly to the public, you can buy targeted data from firms that sell consumer contact details. Again, approach potential clients in the first instance by phone and then follow up with a letter. You should also make yourself available to meet potential clients in person. If this is not possible due to your location, liaise by video conference online.

Step 6

Price competitively. Keep a close eye on what your competitors are charging. If your fees are higher than theirs, make sure your clients know they’ll get something extra for the additional money they spend with you.

Step 7

Offer a generous discount for repeat business. One of the best ways of holding onto your clients is by rewarding them for their loyalty. You can also offer additional perks such as regular social events. Running promotions and offering clients commission for sending new business to you is another way you can keep your existing customers happy and drum up new trade.

Step 8

Employ a sales agent. If you find you don’t have the time to chase new business due to the day-to-day demands of running your company, hire a sales professional to help you expand your client list.

Step 9

Retain the services of a public relations agency to promote your firm and buy advertising online and in local media. Run any campaigns you launch with a special offer for new customers.

Step 10

Maintain your service levels. Your clients will only keep trading with you if they’re consistently happy with the service you provide. Treat all repeat business as though you’re dealing with a client for the first time.

This is for the @sterekiseternal Week 4 prompt: Past/First meeting

FBIS Week 4 – First Meeting

Stiles was in his third year of FBI training when it happened.

Third years were allowed to do supervised field work, and Stiles had been looking forward to it so much. After leaving beacon Hills and enrolling in college, he’d been feeling a little lost with the quiet, the boringness of it.

After three years in Beacon Hills dealing with hellmouth level of trouble, school was a pleasant change at first, until it rapidly became boring.

Stiles was aching to have some excitement in his life. He needed more stimulation in his life than he was getting. There was only so much he could throw himself into his school work and extracurricular activities.

So it was safe to say that Stiles was very ready to go on his first mission.

It took every ounce of control he had to not fidget his way through the brief for the mission.

There was an omega. It hadn’t killed anyone yet, but it was causing trouble and, if left unchecked, it might. The FBI had one of their ‘consultants’ on the ground, and the agents were to make contact and to stay on the good side of the consultant. They had to take in the omega, but were on order not to harm or kill it unless absolutely necessary.

Stiles was not going to be involved in the takedown, but he would be involved in the meet with the consultant, the mission planning, and mission support.

He was ecstatic about it.

The plan was to meet the consultant at the outskirts of town. They’d travel together to hotel where they’d set up shop.

Stiles hadn’t been able to obtain much information regarding the consultant. He wasn’t human, and he’d be able to help them with capture of the omega. He assumed werewolf, possibly alpha, but during the course of his training, he’d been exposed to information about so many other supernatural beings.

So it really could be anything. But Stiles’ money was on werewolf, possibly (hopefully) alpha.

What he really couldn’t have expected was for Derek to be leaning casually against a tree when they pulled into the roadside rest stop.

Stiles had been stunned into silence and stillness.  

Derek opened the passenger door, and slid into the backseat of the car, looking,for all intents and purposes, like he’d done it many times before. The lead agent, Agent Harper, turned from the front passenger seat to look at Derek and Stiles in the backseat “Agent Stilinski, this is our consultant. On the mission we call him Blue.”

“Harper, Todd,” Derek acknowledged, before turning to look at Stiles. “Agent” he said.

Acknowledging him like he doesn’t know him, like the last time Stiles saw Derek wasn’t when he’d left after his ‘evolution’. Like Stiles means nothing to him.

Stiles swallowed his feelings, but Derek’s nostrils flare, and he looked sharply in his direction, so Stiles is probably doing a worse job of hiding his feelings than he’d like.

But then they’re pulling back onto the road, and Stiles’ money is on Derek not addressing the elephant in the SUV. And he’s already won a bet with himself once tonight. Lucky him.

Stiles doesn’t bring it up in the car, or when they get to the hotel, or when they’re setting up the mission hub.

He sits quietly through Derek’s (Blue’s) presentation on what he knows about the omega, and through the discussions on the plan of attack. Apparently the omega had been alerted to the FBI first, and they’d brought in Blue (Derek) to consult.

Which raised a few questions.

Why was Derek consulting with the FBI?

How long had Derek been consulting with the FBI?

And why were they able to contact him when, as far as Stiles was aware, he’d gone off the grid.

But now was not the time.

When Agent Harper declared them sufficiently prepared, he assigns Agent Todd and Blue to do a run of the hotel, while he and Stiles maintained the hub and were their point of contact.

Agent Harper was on the audio, while Stiles watched the two GPS blips move around Redmond. Since completing training, he’d mastered the art of keeping his body still, even when under pressure. But that didn’t stop his mind from running a million miles an hour while he watched their route. He had so many questions for Derek.

When ‘Blue’ and Agent Todd have returned to the hub, and everyone has retired for the evening, Stiles makes his way to Derek’s hotel room, and raps his knuckles rapidly against the door.

Derek answers the door, and it’s clear he’s fresh out of the shower, because his hair is still damp. It’s also sticking up from where it’s been toweled dry, and Stiles decidedly does not find that adorable.

“I guess you want to talk huh?”

“You’re damn right I do.”

“Okay,” he says, ushering Stiles into his room. Stiles takes the seat at mini table, but Derek remains standing. Derek rubs his hand on his neck, and Stiles can hear the release of air from his nostrils. Stiles is watching Derek, eyes focused on him and nothing else. Then Derek is fixing him with his eyes, and Stiles suddenly remembers how it feels to be around Derek, how Derek makes you feel like he’s paying attention to you and only you. It’s suddenly obvious to Stiles that although they’d looked at each other before in the room, Derek hasn’t really been looking at him all night.

“This wasn’t how I imagined we’d meet,” Derek says.

“No shit Sherlock.” Stiles responds instantly. “Were you even going to meet us again?”

Derek’s hand falls to his side, and he grasps the edge of his shirt with his hand. It’s a long sleeves tee, and Stiles has a brief thought that he misses the henley’s, and he wonders if Derek still wears them.

“I hadn’t planned it,” Derek says, slowly, “but I had… thought about it.”

“Oh.” Stiles says, because he’s not sure what to say to that. He’s not sure what it means. Stiles has thought about meeting Derek again so many times. Has chased that fantasy down like a fox (or maybe wolf) chasing a rabbit. Sometimes when he can’t sleep he likeS to think about a happy Derek, and running into him in a bookshop, or a baseball game. They laugh and act like old friends and both agree to get coffee, and reminisce about old times through the rose tinted glasses that come with time passing.

This is not that reunion.

Is that the sort of reunion that Derek thinks about though?

“You look better.” Stiles says instead. and it’s true. It’s something about the way Derek is holding himself. He’s nervous now, and it shows, but he also looks comfortable in his own skin, something Stiles can’t remember seeing, well, ever.

“Thanks. I… feel better. Am better.”

He’s so happy to hear that. As much as it might hurt that Derek left them (left him), he’s still happy that Derek is happy. He knows Derek needed to do that. Stiles needed to do it too. It had still hurt.

“What have you been doing? Are you-” seeing anyone, he wants to ask, but doesn’t, “have you got a new pack?”

Have you replaced us? He thinks. But they were never pack. Not really. Despite everything they went through.

“No.”

Despite it all, Stiles can’t help feeling a little happy and hopeful at the answer. Yes, Derek deserves a pack. He deserves to belong. But Stiles is allowed to be selfish sometimes. He wants that belonging to include him.

“So what have you been doing all this time? And why are you consulting with the FBI now?”

They end up talking until Derek declares it too late to talk anymore and sends Stiles back to his room. But Stiles finds out that he spent some time with Cora, then travelled around, and spent time liaising with packs and setting up alliances. He’s an alpha without a pack, but he’s not interested in setting up a pack for himself.

“Would you though?” Stiles asks, when Derek mentions that, even as he’s yawning and Derek is attempting to usher him out the room.

“Maybe.” The question stops Derek’s movement to the door, and he runs his hand through his hair, ruffling it - adorably, Stiles allows himself to think, “Maybe if I find the right place, the right people, the right time. Just… not yet. I’m not ready to be that to someone yet.”

It’s probably wise, Stiles thinks later, when he’s brushed his teeth and changed into his sleeping clothes, settled in bed, tired, but too focused on all the things Derek has said to fall asleep yet. Derek knows his limitations, and it’s good to see him not pushing himself to take on a new pack, just because it’s expected of him as an alpha.

He falls asleep later, still wondering what it would take for Derek to feel ready to have a new pack.

They catch the omega the next night, and apart from a claw gash down Derek’s arm that the omega is very apologetic about, the plan goes off without a hitch.

Almost.

The omega is an ex-army dude named Tim. Tim had been struggling to readjust and had been living in a tent in the woods nearby when he had been ‘attacked by a wild animal’, or so he had thought at the time. Once Tim calms down, Derek explains to him what he is, and how it happened, and is explaining what it means, when he asks Derek to be his alpha.

Everyone in the room freezes, and despite their training they must give off chem signals because both Derek and Tim’s nostrils flair.

Derek looks tense from the question, in a way that Stiles can recognise, but that is probably obvious to everyone in the room.

“I… that wouldn’t be the best for you really. I will put you in touch with some Alpha’s that would be more suitable, can help you adjust and give you a pack.”

It’s still a rejection, and Tim looks rejected, a feeling Stiles is oh so familiar with, but then Derek is placing his hand on his shoulder, much to Stiles’ surprise.,“Thank you though. It… I appreciate you asking… If… If things were different I might say yes. But, you need stability, now more than ever… and I’m not sure that I can provide you with that.”

“Oh,” Tim says, looking a little less hurt than before, “Okay, then. Thank you.”

And then Tim envelopes Derek in a hug. Stiles thinks it’s a sign of how much Derek has changed, that he doesn’t look panicked in the way Stiles would have once expected, instead embracing Tim back tightly.

Tim is waiting downstairs. Derek will be taking him to meet some of the alphas and packs in the area, but Derek is helping them pack up the hub.

“So Blue,” Agent Harper interrupts their packing with, “I wonder if we can convince you this time around to join the team permanently? Agent salary is a lot better than consultant pay, and you get benefits.”

“You’ve pointed this out before Agent Harper.” Derek says, still packing up the laptop set up.

“That I have. But I’m asking again. And if you turn me down again I’ll probably ask next time too.” He gives a laugh, “So what’ll it be, wanna join the Bureau?”

Derek stops packing now, and looks up at Stiles. They haven’t told the other agents they know each other, although Stiles is sure that they would have worked it out, after all.

He isn’t sure if Derek is asking a question with his look, but he gives him a small smile anyway.

“What sort of benefits?” Derek asks, and Stiles can’t help the smile from breaking out into a full grin at the question.

Missions Accomplished

Steggy Positivity Week, day 4
Prompt: Modern Day

Summary: Steve and Peggy come home from work.

AO3 link here.


“Steve?”

He hears Peggy come into the apartment– the routine sounds of the door and her keys on the counter, her footsteps, her inquiring call– but cannot make himself move from his position facedown in the bed. He does manage a mumbled “grrm,” although even Peggy might not be able to hear or interpret that, muffled as it is by the covers.

“Oh good, you’re here.” From the bedroom doorway, he can now hear the exhaustion in her voice. There’s a swishing sound as she removes her dress, and then she collapses onto the bed with him. When they’d bought the new place, one of their only requirements had been a bedroom big enough to hold a king mattress. Peggy seems to either forget or ignore all the room for her; she lies sideways, so that he imagines her feet folding over the edge of the bed, and rests her cheek against his back. He’s been trying to avoid having any extraneous contact with anything– he usually wears at least boxers because he tends to have more emergencies in his life than the average person and it helps to start out somewhat clothed, but he didn’t even bother to put anything after his shower– but the way she rests against him actually makes him smile into the bed.

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