#every time leaks happen i think of classic really fake ones

[raredrop]

I dont often trust leaks specially not vague ones but the idea of a new type being introduced now seems....weird? At least from this short i scrolled to

Like do it at the start of a new gen....this guy suspects its gonna be in the dlc and idk that just feels weirs

[honestlyfrance]

Sambucky — ya’aburnee // يقبرني ❤️

ya’aburnee - يقبرني

ship: sam/bucky | warnings: hurt/comfort, angst

a/n: ahh slr!! i was working on something else :) hope this suffices, tiana!!

materlist / ko-fi / commissions

Bucky Barnes was immortal. He didn't know this. No one knew this, not even the god he prayed to. All that is known by the gods is that he should've prayed more for mercy, as love is just as sharp as the jab of a knife. Bucky's death will bleed onto his lover.

No one knew how easy people like Sam Wilson were. They die faster, Bucky thinks, because they live recklessly, hiding from death's swinging ax. Benevolent, maybe even cunning. They faked death twice and fucked them into a sweat.

Maybe that's why it's harder to withstand the fall. The Reichenbach Fall, waterfall, the romantic fall, the wall, the wall— the fall, the fall—

When Bucky looked into the mirror of his bathroom, he saw himself. Lines beneath his eyes like the separations of each of earth's layers, eye bags gone but faint and blended into his complexion. His nose is crooked from battles but the scar on his lip tip is still there and it doesn't itch much anymore. His eyes were still a faint blue, the black parts hazy with age. His hair, though, hasn't changed.

He doesn't look much like a human, more of a wax figurine left on a shelf for a certain amount of time.

His hand reaches for a razor and he shaves his entire beard and mustache. He's looking quite younger but still like a figurine.

You know, he's noticed a bunch of times, but for someone out of their own original timeline, he sure does fit well with Sam Wilson.

In fixing the boat, taking long dinners outside in the backyard, watching classic movies until night turns into day. They stay close to each other, like the end of feathers sinking into a bird's skin. Painful to remove, the burden of it all. When Bucky places his hand in Sam's, the hand feels too solid.

Maybe it's the nerves. Bucky hopes it's the nerves.

They go well together, like leaves and flowers. They have their own lives but they fit into each other's existence as if deities were to fold in the nature of existence into their hand. As if it was meant to be. No one can say otherwise. Even atheists can believe.

Now, Bucky doesn't believe in saints but he prays either way. He wishes in between whispers that Sam Wilson may outlive him because god the pressure of his death will kill him either way. It's like that fucking Winnie the Pooh quote with the hundred and one days because living without someone is the worst torture Bucky could ever think above HYDRA.

He's lost so much. He doesn't want to lose more.

Grief runs down like a river for him. Bucky doesn’t want Sam drowning in that path.

“What are we then?” Sam asked as Bucky held his hand, a smile so cute and warm it’s like baby sunflowers on a sunny day.

Bucky smiled, shrugging. “I’d like to be with you forever if you’d like that you.”

Sam does, the man says. And Bucky believed that this is heaven on earth.

Yes, Bucky wants Sam to outlive him. To fuck death into the unliving, to rule the underworld and free every single soul, to love the man until the moment between daybreak and nightfall. In moments unheard, Bucky wants Sam to outlive life itself, the universe itself, atoms itself. Maybe that’s why it hurts so much, to hear a mission gone wrong, to not be there to have his back covered.

Bucky’s one hour away and he just heard that Sam went on a mission in the Bronx without back-up, some spiderman shit, he doesn’t care. He steals the nearest motorbike and almost bullets through traffic and the roads just to reach the man in time before anything bad might happen.

He feels his chest tighten as he sped through three red lights. There’s something in him that can’t help but not trust Sam’s idiotic ass, and why wouldn’t anyone? The man would rush into hell like Orpheus if it means Euridyce can live. He’s sacrificial like that, forgets his fear of death and guilt of hundreds if it could save one more. And Bucky smiles as he sees the debris in front of him. I love him despite all that, he thinks. He wants to kiss Sam silly now.

He throws the bike and rolls off and into the road like a madman. He’s running through the debris and collapsed buildings to find Sam. He ignores the calls, Sergeant Barnes! Barnes! No, at this moment, he’s not Bucky Barnes. At this moment, he is called by Sam Wilson’s name. His name is a man who he loves.

He geos under a leaking pipe, then over a boulder of brick, then through a puddle of what seems to be gasoline. Then he hears the faint vibrations of the shield. He runs carefully now, yelling, Wilson! Wilson, Wilson… It echoes through the chamber. The road slopes downward, and he slips, slides downward with elegance and precision. He lands on both his feet, then starts running.

Some madman villain is responsible for this mess, and Bucky wouldn’t let it worsen.

He reaches Sam who seems to be tired from battling with the madman. He swings one last time and hits the man directly at the head, successfully knocking the man unconscious.

Bucky runs one last time, into Sam’s arms, and they topple down to the floor and rubble. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, he whispers into Sam’s neck. Their legs tangle into each other and they’re buried into each other’s necks. Bucky trailer kisses down Sam’s cheek and neck, tears almost forming in his eyes.

He feels something warm on Sam’s stomach.

Buckyslowly and carefully leans away from Sam, hovering over the man. Sam says, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. On his stomach is a gaping hole, deep and oozing of blood into his white uniform. Sam is crying, his chest heavy with the burden of the world and his breathing is shallow. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Bucky became tight-lipped, then smiled. “You’re here. It’s okay.” he whispered. He activates Sam’s homing signal on his utility belt in a hurry. “You really do bury me, don’t you Barnes?”

“Yes, Wilson,” Sam laughs weakly.

Bucky wishes Sam to outlive him, for reasons like this.

[mediocre-writerr]

don’t give up on me [jennifer jareau]

JJ x fem reader

Summary: SSA Jennifer Jareau, JJ for liking, is dating coworker Y/N, but what happens when Y/N gets kidnapped by the unsub? Also this is a very long imagine soo enjoy!

W A R N I N G: blood, wounds, kidnapping, slight mention of assault and mentions of death

*not my gif*

The jingle of JJ’s phone going off wakes you both up from your slumbers. You groan shoving my head into the pillow as she chuckles softly.

“Agent Jareau,” she begins and you hear the sounds of ‘mhm’, ‘okay’, ‘yes’ fill the silence, “Alright me and Y/L/N are on our way.”

“No. Nope. I’m staying right here.” you say shaking your head into the pillow.

“That was Hotch, we have a case here in Quantico.” you let out a groan and bury your face deeper into the pillow.

She laughs softly as she lifts your shirt a little to scratch your back lightly. You let out a soft sigh before looking at her. Her usual tamed blonde hair is everywhere and her eyes are still a little closed from just waking up.

You send her a small little smile before sitting up. You tuck her hair that is in front of her face behind her ear before kissing her softly.

“Ugh, morning breath!” she complains scrunching her nose up in disgust.

You place your hand over my heart like you’ve been shot before falling down onto the bed. Your tongue sticking out, “Agent Jareau...only a true love’s kiss could save me. Please help.”

She laughs to herself lightly before leaning down and giving me a small kiss, “Let’s go before Hotch really throws a fit.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “Fine. By the way you should get used to my morning breath, you are my fiancé after all.” And she chuckles again lightly.

You guys get to the BAU and see everyone in the briefing room. You take a seat next to Rossi as he gives you a fist bump. JJ stood up in the front with Hotch giving him a small apologetic smile.

“Late night last night ladies?” Morgan asks with classic player smirk.

“Yes a late night of sleep that was rudely interrupted.” you look at Hotch and he stares at you with a scary glance and you put your hands up in surrender.

You like to keep the mood light in the BAU especially before or after case. The team deals with dark and twisted stuff all day. So you try to get the team to laugh and smile as often as you can.

“Now that we’re all here,” Hotch begins looking at the both you and JJ and you try your best not to laugh, “The unsub has left us a tape. It was left at the footsteps of the BAU. I’ll play it for you.”

The team turn their heads towards the projector and there’s a victim strapped onto the chair with a mask cartoon version of Prentiss on their face. They look terrified and are trying their best to escape the bounds that the unsub has them in. They’re breathing heavy, this isn’t staged. This isn’t fake. This is real life. Another person with a mask of Hotch comes in the background and shoots them right in the head and then they just stare at the camera.

“So this unsub definitely wants our attention.” Prentiss announces.

“They are very confident that they can get away with whatever they’re doing.” JJ chimes in.

“Like they’re trying to mock and taunt us.” Rossi adds on.

“The police department found the victims body: 24 year old, Maya Flynn. She was a young teacher who just got her degree. She was dumped in the alley by the BAU. Wrists had rope burns on them which makes sense as they were bound to the chairs.” JJ goes on and you look down to read the files.

“Reid and Rossi, you guys go take a look at the body. Morgan and I will go to the crime scene. JJ try to handle the press and keep all of the word of this to a minimum, do not under any circumstance leak the video tape. Alright everyone let’s catch and find our unsub.” Hotch announces.

“Wait-wait what about us?” Prentiss asks gesturing to the two of you.

“Prentiss, you were specifically targeted in this video. We don’t know what the unsub’s game is, but we know that you were their first kill. We need to keep you under watch here, you can help JJ or Garcia. And Y/L/N, you didn’t finish your paperwork from the last case and Strauss is on my ass about, so once you’re done with that we will reassess your assignment.”

Everyone leaves the briefing room to get to their assignments, but you, Prentiss, and JJ.

“Love, you didn’t finish your paperwork?” JJ stares at you with her death glares.

“No...I wanted to go home early.” I reply and she shakes her head before giving me a kiss on the head.

“Finish it up.” she says sternly.

“I will, be safe?” you ask holding your pinky out for a pinky promise.

She locks your fingers before we kiss our own hand, “Always.”

             ______________________________________________________

“Oh here comes Y/N! She goes for the 3 and SPLASHHH!” you yell as your crumpled up piece of paper makes it way to the trash can.

“You know you’re never going to get any work done and go out on the field if you keep messing around.” Prentiss points out clearly annoyed with just sitting here and doing nothing.  

“You’re just mad that you can’t contribute to the case.” you contradict and she rolls her eyes before getting up from her desk, “Where ya going?”

“To get coffee.” she responds.

“Coffee machine is broken. Let me go get us some because I am starving and want a really good sandwich. Plus you can’t leave.” you point out grabbing your phone, keys, and wallet and shoving them into your pocket.

“Oh yes please!” Prentiss screams, “You’re the best!” 

“I hope so I am your best friend,” you shoot back sending her a wink which led to her rolling her eyes again, “I’ll be right back. Text me your order!”

You walk the short stroll to our favorite cafe, one you’ve walked a million times some with Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia, but some on your lonesome. The breeze nice and cool, it’s a good break from all of the life threatening and disturbing things we see on a daily basis. All of the kids walking around holding their parents hands. Their eyes hold so much innocence, it’s sad that they don’t know the true dangers of this world.

The next thing you know the world went black.

             ______________________________________________________

Team’s POV

“Where’s Y/N?” JJ asks as the rest of the team walks back into the briefing room.

“She went to go grab us some coffee and sandwiches, she should be here by now.” Prentiss says and she stands staring at her phone searching for a text from Y/N.

They all sit down around the table looking at the board, trying to piece together every little thing, but coming up short. They don’t even have a profile they could give the local police department. That’s how stumped they are. 

Garcia comes running into the room with tears filled in her eyes.

“Garcia? What’s wrong?” Hotch asks with concern laced in his tone.

“I got sent an anonymous video from the unsub. I tried to track down where it was sent from, but it was a burner phone.” she says speaking really fast, that’s how the team knows something is really wrong, when she’s speaking a million miles per hour. 

The video starts to play from the TV monitor and gasps filled the room. There was Y/N strapped onto a chair, no mask on her face like the other video just Y/N and her trying to remain calm. 

Most of them seemed to think Y/N was okay, but her best friend Prentiss and  JJ knew better. They could see the fear glistening in her eyes. 

The unsub punched Y/N across the face and Y/N’s head fell back. She continued to spit and cough out blood. JJ’s heart stopped and flinched slightly at the sight. 

“Alright now that I’ve knocked the sense into you, are you ready to deliver my message?” the unsub asked, his voice distorted. 

“No. You can’t break me, is that the best you can do?” Y/N asked knowing that it’ll hopefully give Garcia enough time to track something, anything down. 

Then there came another punch. Her eye immediately started to bruise, “Come on baby. Do it for me.” the unsub whispered in a gross seductive voice.

“Jay,” you whisper, but the room is quiet enough that the camera picks it up, “I love you and for you I’d do anything.” 

“That’s not what I asked you to say!” the unsub screamed punching Y/N again, “Now say what I told you!” 

“He wants to ruin our lives. One by one, he’s been stalking us for years. If we don’t give him what he wants, he will ruin us.” she says finally following orders. 

“Now what do I want?” he asks.

“Hotch he wants the files, something about the Black Hood. I don’t know why, but he wants them. Specifically from you and Rossi.” Y/N says blood dripping down her mouth. 

“Good girl.” he whispers, “Now Hotchner, Rossi, Morgan, Jareau, Prentiss, Garcia, and Reid, Agent Y/L/N doesn’t have a lot of time. She’s definitely a tough cookie to break, but I never back down from a challenge. I’m gonna call you guys to set up a deal, you’ll know who it is once I call,” the unsub gets closer to Y/N and his mouth is right by her ear as his hands wander along her body, “And in the mean time, we’re gonna have lots of fun aren’t we Y/N?” 

The camera cuts out and JJ releases a scream, “No! No! No!” she begins to pace back and forth.

“JJ get a hold of yourself right now. If your ability to go along with this case professionally is compromised then I will gladly have you sit this one out.” Hotch yells sternly. 

“No you don’t get to tell me that I have to calm down. When we went after Foyet your emotions were compromised yet all of still stood by your side. No one questioned your authority. When Doyle went after Emily, all of our emotions were compromised yet none of us were threatened to sit this one out. So you have no right to do the same to me. I am not some local detective, I am a BAU agent!” JJ yells and everyone is taken aback in surprise, but she’s not wrong. 

They all went through something, yet none of them were threatened to step down. Especially Hotch with Foyet. Hotch and JJ continued to stare at each other none of them willing to break until Reid chimed in. 

“The Black Hood case, that was a case in Riverdale back in the late 80′s to early 90′s. Where the killer went around terrorizing the town focusing on ‘sinners’ and he wanted to cleanse the town. What would the unsub want with the files?” Reid asks and Rossi steps in to try and break the tension.

“Me and Hotch worked together on it. We caught the guy fairly quickly. I always thought that it was too easy, but they just explained we got lucky that he slipped. Maybe we got it wrong, maybe we didn’t catch the unsub.” Rossi points out and after one last look at JJ, Hotch breaks his position.

“It’s always a possibility, but that would make him in his mid to late 60s. It can’t be him now can it?” Hotch points out pointing at the video.

“No, this guy looks to strong and his temper is too high for an older man. Plus he was very sexual towards Y/N, an older man wouldn’t have that kind of hormones.” Prentiss observes. 

“Maybe a son? A family member?” Morgan asks. 

“But why would they want the files if they know their dad wasn’t caught?” JJ chimes in finally after getting her breathing under control, her hand resting on her stomach. 

Something that Emily picked up on fairly quickly, but brushed it off. She’ll talk to her about it when the time is right. Not right now. 

The cover photo of the video was Y/N sitting there with blood dripping down her mouth. The unsub right next to her ear. JJ’s eyes couldn’t leave that picture. The picture of you in pain and scared. 

“Maybe it’s not the actual Black Hood’s son. Maybe it’s the one who was caught and framed for it. He died in jail recently didn’t he? That could be his son’s stressor. He believed and was told his dad was innocent for so long that maybe he knows it wasn’t him. He wants to prove his dad wasn’t as terrible as everyone thinks. Sorta like an avenger, he wants to avenge his dad’s legacy!” Reid yells at and Hotch nods.

“Sounds like a good start Garcia-” he begins to say, but Garcia cuts him off.

“Already on it sir.” Garcia responds tapping rapidly on her computer.

“I’m gonna get some air.” JJ says and the rest of the team nods, but she’s already gone before she can get a response.

Hotch nods his head towards the door to let Emily know to follow and make sure she’s okay which she gladly obliged to. 

              ______________________________________________________ 

JJ’s POV

I ran outside the BAU doors and immediately threw up in the bush closest to me, tears pouring down my face. The thought of the unsub doing that to Y/N and watching it made me sick to my stomach. Not only that, but the thought of what he’s doing to her right now. 

I felt someone hold my hair back which I immediately tensed up to, “It’s okay. It’s just me.” I hear Emily whisper and my shoulders immediately relax.

After throwing up my entire breakfast I look at Em and she has concern brimming her eyes, “I’m scared Em.” 

“I know, but Y/N’s strong. She’s a tough cookie and I know she’ll fight whoever this asshole is just so she can be with you.” she reassures me and i nod. 

“Are you okay? I know how close you guys are. You were practically attached to the hip ever since you joined the team.” I ask her and she lets out a small sigh before biting her fingernails. 

“A part of me feels guilty, well all of me. I wanted a coffee and her being the sweet person she is wanted to get one for me, but it was also just an excuse for her to not finish her paperwork. But I also know that Y/N’s glad it was her and not me. If she let me go out like that she wouldn’t forgive herself, so she took the risk, just to protect me. And I know she’d want us to stay strong and keep things light, but it’s hard when we witnessed what we just saw and knowing that she went out to protect me. Not just me, but all of us. That could be any one of us right now, but she decided to take the leap.” Em responds shaking her head. 

“She really is a hero...” I respond placing my hands over my stomach again. 

Emily was about to say something before her phone went off, “Hotch says Garcia just got something. We gotta go back in.” I’m about to cry again when Emily pulls me into a hug, “We’re gonna get her back.” 

              ______________________________________________________

Team’s POV

“What have we got?” Prentiss asks as her and JJ walk into the room.

“Rylan Svenson, 24 year old son of Brett Svenson. This would’ve made him about 12 years old at the time of the murders. A good enough age to know where your dad was at the time of the murders. He now lives in Richmond, Virginia after moving from Riverdale, 4 years ago, and makes the daily commute as a postal worker here in Quantico.” Garcia explains, “No criminal record, but grown up in a rough social environment. Seems like he was a bit of loner in high school because everyone believed his dad was the Black Hood.” 

“I think we’ve got our guy.” Rossi states and everyone nods. 

“Alright when he calls we need to keep him on the line for as long as possible. He’s gonna have Y/N do most of the talking so JJ?” JJ turns her attention to Hotch, “Can you keep her talking? Try to make conversation, we’ll try to have Garcia track down the call. Or see if we can notice something that we didn’t notice before.” 

“I can keep her talking.” JJ nods and Hotch nods back. 

              ______________________________________________________

Your POV

*3 h o u r s l a t e r*

“Wakey, wakey princess,” Rylan whispers to you, he just injected some drug into your arm causing you to pass out, “It’s time for your special call home.” 

You can feel your heart rate rising even higher each time he injects a drug into you after back talking him. Your pant leg has a hole in it. He stabbed you when his hands started to bleed from all the punching and then he wrapped the wound. He can’t get what he wants if you’re dead. He sets up the video camera and hits the call button after a few moments the team answers.

You can’t help, but smile at Hotch and Rossi in front of you, “Rylan Svenson? Is that you?” Hotch asks and Rylan has an evil smirk on his face.

“Took you a while to figure it out huh Hotch?” he responds. 

“I remember you. You were just a little kid when we met.” Rossi points out. 

“Yeah and I told you countless times it wasn’t my dad!” he yells out which causes you to flinch back lightly, last time he yelled liked that a knife penetrated your leg. 

“Jay,” you whisper again and you smile at JJ’s face appearing into the frame. 

“Hi love, you stay strong for me okay?” she whispers back smiling sadly at the nickname that only you call her.

You’re about to reply when Rylan pops in, “You know I wish I could’ve kidnapped you instead Jareau. It would have been a lot more fun to see them rush to find you especially since you’re pregnant,” your eyes wide slightly at what he said, “Oh wait...no one knows yet do they?” 

“Is that true?” you ask your voice raspy and dry.

JJ nods, “Yeah it is. I found out a couple weeks ago, IVF worked, love. We’re gonna have a baby.” JJ’s voice cracked and you couldn’t helped, but smile at the thought of your little family. 

“Which is why I need you to keep fighting. I need you to stay alive and stay strong not just for me, but for us,” she whispers placing her hands over her stomach. 

Little to your knowledge the boys noticed something in the background that gave away where you were and they were on their way now; JJ just needs to keep you on camera for a little longer. 

“I need you to stay alive so that we can lay in bed during our days off or late at night talking about baby names. I need you to stay alive so you can come with me to his or her first doctor’s appointment and we can hear their heartbeat. I need you to stay alive so we can paint their new bedroom and buy cute little clothes for them. I need you to stay alive so our son or daughter can meet their mom.” JJ had tears running down her face now and so did you, your heart rate still rising due to mix of drugs in your system, “Please Y/N. Please promise me that you will come home to us.” 

JJ extends her pinky out towards the camera and you do the same. She brings her hand closer to her lips and kisses it softly and you’re about to do the same when everything goes black again.

              ______________________________________________________

JJ’s POV

Y/N’s about to kiss her hand when all of a sudden her eyes rolls to the back of her head. All of a sudden her body starts to jolt as foam starts to come out of her mouth. 

“Rylan Sverson hands up right now!” I hear Morgan yell. 

Rylan automatically takes off through the backdoor, but knowing them one of them was waiting out there for him. Reid comes into the frame and releases Y/N from the ropes and places her on her side.

He starts to count out loud probably timing the length of the seizure, “We need a medic in here! Right now!” Instead of going back to counting Reid starts doing chest compressions.

“JJ meet us at the hospital, we’ll be right there!” Hotch points out and the camera cuts out. 

I release a loud sob at the sight of Reid doing chest compressions. Garcia and Prentiss escorts me to the car, neither of them leaving my side throughout the entire car ride. 

They keep telling me it’s gonna be okay, but I can’t listen to them right now. The only thing I can focus on right now is hearing from Y/N herself that she’s okay. 

We get to the hospital to find the boys already there like they promised. They explain that the doctors have her in the operating room right now. Other than her bloodstream, her leg seems like the only part of her injured. Rylan injected her with a mix of cocaine, meth, and heroine causing her brain and heart to haywire. They needed to give her a blood transfusion to get all of the drugs out, it seemed like a simple procedure, but anything could happen. 

Rylan Sverson died, he was shot multiple times by Rossi for trying to shoot Hotch for trying to negotiate. 

The whole team sat with me in the waiting room. Strauss even stopped by for a little before ultimately having to leave to finish up the paperwork that you didn’t get to finish. 

“I’m sorry that I snapped and threatened to take you off the case.” Hotch sat down next to me and said. “It’s okay, I understand.” I whispered back. 

“You know like Reid when Y/N joined remember how young she was? A bright eyed innocent girl excited for her new job at becoming a hero,” he begins and smiles softly, “Usually that innocence and that brightness fades with time, all of these horrible things we see on a daily basis it’s only a matter of time before it does. But Y/N has been with us for four years and not once have I seen it fade. From the day I met her I knew I wanted to protect her like a sister so me yelling at you was just a way to yell at myself to stay calm and professional.” 

I look up at him and he as tears forming in his eyes. I place my hand on his knee, “She’s gonna be okay.” and he nods agreeing. 

Many many hours passed when Y/N’s doctor finally came out, “She’s okay. The wound in her leg is all stitched up and her bloodstream is still clearing out. We got most of the drugs out, but some still linger. So we want to keep her here a little longer for precautions. But she’s awake and alert asking for Agent Jareau here.” 

“Thank you Doctor.” Hotch says with a small smile and he nods before leaving. 

“You guys can come in too. I know she’d love to see you all.” I say and we make our way to her hospital room.

              ______________________________________________________

Your POV

There was a soft knock at the door and you saw the team standing there with smiles on their faces.

“Hey guys!” you try to say with much enthusiasm as possible, but your tired state made it hard.

“Hey kid.” Morgan smiles as he got closer before ruffling your hair and your scrunch your nose up in annoyance. 

Rossi gave you a fist bump, Hotch gave you one of his nods and a small smile, Reid, Prentiss, and Garcia all piled on top of you in one of the best group hugs you could ever get. 

“Jareau,” you say softly as she plants herself next to your bedside. 

You can see the tears that are already formed in her eyes, “Y/L/N,” she smiles at you softly and you gladly return the smile. 

“You did really well out there Y/N.” Hotch says, “You took the risk to go out there. You knew how dangerous it was, yet you still went out because you knew if any one of us went out it would’ve ended the same way. I wish you didn’t do that and thought of yourself first, but I think on behalf of all of us: Thank you.” 

“Woah that was deep, I was just trying to get out of doing paperwork.” you joke trying to lighten the serious mood and the worried looks on their face, which worked, their worried faced turned into smiles. 

“That’s the sarcasm and smart ass remarks we missed and appreciate.” Rossi adds smiling.

“In all seriousness, I couldn’t let Prentiss out there and I knew that if you guys took one step out there alone, it would’ve been any one of you. You all mean so much to me I couldn’t allow that to happen.” you say and they all send your grateful smiles except for JJ who just seems lost in thought.

Prentiss picks up on JJ’s behavior and decides to step in, “I think we should give you guys some time to talk.” the rest of the team nods before saying their goodbyes. 

After they leave JJ just continued to stand there staring into emptiness, “Pull up a chair, stay awhile.” you say jokingly trying to see that beautiful smile of her, but ultimately end up empty. 

“Jay, baby, what’s going on?” you whisper and her gorgeous blue eyes finally lock with yours.

“I almost lost you today. We almost lost you today.” she whispers emphasizing the we in her sentence and you let out a soft sigh.

You scoot over a little in your bed and pat the spot next to her so she can cuddle up next to you. She hesitates at first, but ultimately sits down. Her head immediately goes onto your chest as her leg wrapped around your healthy one. Your arms wrapped her body as she fit into you perfectly. 

You kiss the top of her head when she’s finally settled in, “I’m right here Jay. I promise you, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you or our baby ever. It will always be us.” 

“I know what your intentions were and they were good, but if we didn’t get there in time. If one thing went differently, you wouldn’t be here right now and I’d be holding a lifeless body.” she begins to cry onto your hospital gown. 

You let her cry playing with her softly, “But I’m right here now baby. I’m real, I’m not a dream or a pigment of your imagination. I’m right here.” you squeeze her a little tighter and she looks up at you. You plant a soft kiss to those perfect lips of hers. 

You place your hand over her stomach before leaning down a little to whisper, “Hey there cutie. I’m your mom and I can’t wait to meet you! You’re gonna have the best little family out there. You’ll have Uncle Derek, Uncle Aaron, Uncle David, and Uncle Spencer. Your aunt’s are the best too, Aunt Penelope and Aunt Emily. You also have the best mommy out there, she’s a hero! And me and your mommy are gonna make sure we protect you and keep that little sparkle in your eyes for as long as we can. I promise.” you place your pinky over her belly before kissing your hand softly. 

              ______________________________________________________

You and JJ walk into the BAU to visit the team with both of you on maternity leave for awhile it’s hard to see them. And it was especially hard when they were on a case when JJ was in labor. 

You held JJ’s hand in one of your hands and in the other was the baby’s carseat. JJ knocked on the briefing room door before entering, everyone looked up and smiled at the two of you. 

“You guys have another three weeks! Get out of here!” Rossi yells jokingly and we all laugh. 

“We just wanted you guys to meet our son: Daniel Aaron Jareau or Dani for short” you take Dani out of his little carseat and hold him in your arms. 

Everyone gathered around and witnessed the beautiful piece of innocence in front of them. 

“Aaron huh?” Hotch asks raising his eyebrows and giving one of his rare smiles. 

“Yeah right. Couldn’t have been Derek.” Derek scoffs.

“Or Spencer,” Reid chimes in. 

“Or David!” Rossi yells and we all laugh. 

“We just thought it was fitting.” JJ smiled at Hotch thinking back to the conversation she had with him back at the hospital. 

“Well I’m honored.” he smiles even wider, probably wider than you ever seen it.

They all looked at the newborn in front of them. Each of them taking turns holding him. He had JJ’s beautiful blue eyes, but now they were mixed with your innocence that everyone seemed to love. 

Dani Aaron Jareau was just another reminder that no matter how dark and twisted this world is, no matter how many bad things they witness on a daily basis, that there’s always some sunshine or light to fill the darkness.

[bisluthq]

It’s your kaylor historian here who still can’t remember my log in details to my KH account 🤦‍♀️ (so please make sure this anon just in case it isn’t... I fear them 👀)

Karlie’s tea post before masters heist:

Ok so I can’t remember who posted first and don’t feel like looking, but taylor posted a selfie and captioned it “Friday calmness” and we (kaylor fandom) had been speculating taylor was going to come out as bi on the last day of June / 🌈pride month🌈 since she’d been doing so much stuff that could be seen (and was) as queer coded. We celebrated the “Friday calmness” thinking it was like a ‘calm before the storm’ with the storm being her coming out.

I think Karlie posted after taylor, but am not 100% sure. Karlie posted a selfie with a cup with a caption like “what’s the tea” and the fandom, thinking they were still together, collectively lost our shit. It looked to us like Karlie was playing off Taylor’s post. (I’ll admit, I didn’t think kaylor were still together, but that weekend I was thinking ‘I can’t believe I doubted them!’ Lol)

*there were also rumours that the YNTCD video and single were delayed a couple of times and meant to be released sooner and serve as a soft coming out, but that taylor kept changing her mind about it and is also why she kept the tracklist length under wraps, because she wasn’t sure if she’d go through with it. She was way more vague than ever before. There were also rumours she had a rolling stone cover planned that she was going to come out in but it was scrapped —— I can’t even remember where these “she’s actually coming out” rumours originated anymore and I can’t remember if people had legit sources and gossip or if it was fan fiction planning, but it was mentioned outside the kaylordom too, so take that as you wish.

Then came the masters heist.

Now, to understand the thought process of Kaylors at the time, you have to remember that we thought Karlie & Taylor had a secret romance, Joe was a beard, Josh was a beard - but since he comes from a crime family who have done a lot of bad things (to put it lightly) and are stupidly rich, Josh had Karlie trapped in such a tight contract and has so much blackmail material that Karlie was forced to fake marry him against her will - remember, it was only meant to be a photo shoot for a Vogue wedding spread showing what wedding fashion was available, it wasn’t meant to be a wedding! But josh had his team leak the photos and instead of saying it was all for a photo shoot, Karlie had to say she was now married. <- that was the narrative and thought process within the fandom.

So the fandom thought 🛴 and Josh conspired to announce the purchase of big machine/ taylor’s masters which would derail her coming out plans. The fandom thought Karlie had no idea it was happening. Scooter and Josh were worried Taylor was going to come out, which would ultimately out Karlie since there were so many rumours about Kaylor already, and it would then out Josh and ruin Josh’s image, making it look obvious to everyone that Josh and Karlie were just beards, but kaylor was real. To avoid tarnishing Josh’s hetero card, scooter waited until the end of June to announce he bought taylor’s music for maximum impact.

(Never mind that someone spent $300M to keep a client in the closet) that was how we interpreted the situation (kept writing the fan fiction) and that it was a blow to taylor and a huge betrayal from scooter to Karlie because now they had extra leverage / ways to hurt Karlie.

So yeah. It was a very sad time. This also is why some kaylors think hoax lyrics point to their everlasting love “my best laid plans” = tay ready to come out end of June “your sleight of hand” = scooter tricking Karlie when he bought the masters and any information about taylor that Karlie mentioned innocently was used against them, “my barren land” = taken on a new meaning since Karlie announced her pregnancy, but initially it was seen as the land that was meant to be blooming with love was left barren and empty because of the masters incident delaying her coming out.

It sounds absolutely ludicrous, but the only way to understand how it was easy to rationalise is to understand how adamant the fandom was/ is that Josh and joe are just beards, Karlie is locked in a contract, and taylor is trying to free the both of them. If there were any truth to this at all, it is nothing short of ghastly situation for Karlie and paints taylor as a Nobel warrior trying to save her princess from the tower 🦸🏼‍♀️👸🏼 ....

Karlie had what I think was a scheduled post cause it was ad content , but otherwise was unusually silent on social media for a week + after the announcement. We thought they were grieving together.

——-

Now for Emily Poe. Ok so I really didn’t do my research - I thought Emily was only one or two years older than Taylor, so it never even occurred to me that the idea of that relationship would’ve been extremely predatory and badbadbadbad. I regret not doing my due dillihence when I was part of a fandom that consumed this theory. So Emily theories have been around since Taylor first had gay speculation. Part of this was because of some funny photos like that one where taylor is standing next to a truck that says “...gay Texan” and emily and a guy in the band I can’t think of his name were pointing to taylor and smirking. It’s a funny photo. I can see my dumb teenage self making similar jokes long before I knew my sexuality because LOOOOL GAY was a thing back then. There’s the video taylor made for Emily where she held up the “we love you emily” sign and she went to everyone she toured with including brad paisley to hold up the sign and make heart hands and just be extremely cute - platonic or romantic - both seem plausible - and cute as hell! The video was set to the dashboard confessional song ‘stolen’ which is basically just the lyric “you have stolen my heart” over and over again. This video got renewed interest when people went back and looked back at the you belong with me video. The idea of taylor and her make love interest holding these a4 sheets of paper with “I love you” written on them seemed familiar. The story of how YBWM came about was that Taylor heard her guitarist on the phone with his girlfriend and his gf was yelling at him for something seemingly insignificant/ the gf was painted out as high drama and her guitarist seemed miserable every time he spoke to her for a while. So Taylor had the idea of a song about a girl thinking her friends girlfriend is horrible, but turn it into a love story where the two friends get together - classic romantic comedy trope - she took the idea to Liz Rose and it was one of the last songs written for Fearless and specifically made to be upbeat and preppy because taylor thought the album was lacking that vibe. If you take the story Taylor said inspired the song and swap it from her male guitarist (who she also said she had no feelings for), and change it to her female fiddle player, the story behind the song can be the same, just tweaked to be hetwashed. Emily was a cheerleader and had a boyfriend when she toured with taylor, so it’s easy enough to take those things at surface value and think there was some truth to Emily. Also the two biggest gaylor rumours pre swiftgron came from comments on a gossip site/ forum. One was that ‘Emily was fired after she was caught relieving taylor of stress’ and how ‘emily was interested in law, but this incident cemented she had to leave the band but the swift team gave her money so emily wouldn’t sue for being fired on a sexual harassment issue’ (of course, knowing the age difference, we know this would NOT be the case at all) and it is speculated it inspired taylor to write breathe because she was so sorry for how things ended. They were inseparable and then after her birthday, never seen together or mentioned each other on MySpace again.

The other comment was that taylor ‘was a pillow princess in high school’ and that she was happy to receive but not give because she wanted to maintain her virgin status and thought if she reciprocated it would make her gay — the comment was something like that.

Of course it would’ve been incredibly easy for idk, some random on the internet who has never even met taylor to say those things.... but it was taken as gospel by the gaylor truthers.

People who looked further found a girl they believed was Taylor’s high school gf, her name started with L... but I never really believed it so I don’t have the greatest knowledge of that one. It seemed ridiculous to me she had a 3 year gf as a teenager and not a single person from her high school - or anyone who knew her alleged gf - ever spoke about it publicly??? That would be a lot of NDAs and payouts to keep silent, but a lot of other people believed NDAs and hush money was spent, so yeah... 🤷‍♀️

She also had some fruity MySpace posts which seemed to help the case for gaylor, but imo, it also falls under the ‘teenagers on the internet are dumb especially when social media was brand new and thank god myspace doesn’t exist cause I don’t want to see my old one ever again’ category.

Sorry for the essay, I felt I had been summoned and wanted to give background on the fandom. When I log back in I think I need to change my bio, I’m not really here to talk kaylor , but the fandom. Cause it’s really sad what that narrative within the fandom has become and heartbreaking what that narrative has done to fans, especially queer kids trying to figure themselves out. I couldn’t see how toxic it was for a long time, I’m happy I’m out of there now. but I think it helps to understand how the fandom thought and saw things as to how easy it was for things to spiral to the state it’s in now.

As old T used to sign off, - lovelovelove 💜

Brilliant post thanks KH!

[simeonstans]

OBEY ME BROTHERS AS CELEBRITIES

Sorry I haven't been active. Between schoolwork and just a lack of motivation and creativity, I really dont know what else I should've written. I'm sorry for abandoning this blog for a while haha.

LUCIFER

He's an actor. But later turned into directing and producing movies.

Has an entire room dedicated to his awards, one wall lined up with all his Oscars, Grammys, and Emmys.

Involved in plenty of rumors and scandals, usually where the media thinks he's dating an actor or found a non celebrity partner. But really, he asked them out to talk business.

Whenever he's acting, his character can go from the charming boy to the rich spoiled brat to even the badass detective. He's not a big fan of starring in hero or action movies with lots of effects. Nor directing those types of movies.

Directed a horror movie once and that quickly got taken out of movies for how scary they were. Psychological horror to the extreme.

His stans are usually rich and probably like Quentin Tarantino or Clint Eastwood. Lucifer has beefed with Woody Allen and his stans do as well. Truly iconic.

Philanthropist.

MAMMON

He's a model in canon but I feel he could also be a photographer.

He knows his aesthetics and has plenty of portfolios.

He's probably gonna act a lot smarter now that he's famous and knows plenty of people would want to scam him.

He does give out to charity sometimes but usually he models for campaigns or sells his pictures at auctions and donates away the money or a percentage of it.

Involved in some scandals but they're quickly debunked by his stans or his management. Nothing too bad, just a dating rumor that spirled out of control.

He does have a good relationship with his fans and likes to do podcasts or go on lives and interact and answer questions, even invites them on his lives to talk with them.

He's filthy rich and he dresses filthy rich. His style is very earthy and casual, but he does have that expensive Hermes™ watch and some Prada™ boots.

LEVIATHAN

He's a YouTuber. He also streams every Friday and Saturday from 10pm-6am.

He liked to cosplay but now that he gets invited to gaming cons and events, he probably doesn't have much time to make a good cosplay up to his standards so he'd probably wearing Tanjiro's earrings one day and then his Naruto jacket the next.

Whenever he goes to concerts, it's a thing that fans secretly take pictures of him if they're near him and there's plenty of content of him drooling over Zaramela.

There's YouTube compliations of him going shy whenever someone is nice to him or someone attractive goes near him.

Because he games a lot, he probably would sweat a lot if he becomes concentrated. So whenever he'd brush his hair back or put it in a ponytail, his stans go feral.

Don't mess with his stans, they're the type to call and email anyone so you have your life ruined. But I promise they're usually soft stans.

He dresses like the gamer boy of your dreams tbh.

SATAN

He's a painter.

The next Picasso. Van Gogh. Monet. He has talent.

Many would say he could be an author cause he reads but I headcanon he could have synesthesia. So whenever he'd read a book and go over a specific scene, it'd inspire him to draw or paint something.

If he's stressed, he plays classical music and paints whatever the music says.

He was probably a college student when this happened and he had a lot of paintings he didn't know what to do with, so he just sold them or gave him away to charities under a fake name.

Like some Hannah Montana shit, he lived a double life for a couple months and then he got outed by some journalist that was supposed to keep up with him.

He gets invited to plenty of events and has painted for celebrities and politicians. Despite that, he's probably the least popular of his brother's but his stans are very dedicated to him and surprisingly there's rarely any fights within.

He has money but the most expensive his he owns is a watch and his car. More dad or nerdy boyfriend type look.

ASMODEUS

Triple Threat. Model, actor, singer.

He frequently goes on tour and drops albums. His music ranges so one album can help you explore your sexuality when his next album mostly focuses on who he truly is and so on.

Like Lucifer, he has plenty of awards. Probably has starred in one of his productions, too.

Has collaborated with NikkieTutorials, Rihanna and her Fenty collection, Beyonce, the biggest stars you could think of. Whether music or beauty.

Has his own fashion line as well as his own perfume collection and beauty products. A good percentage does go to charities and organizations like homeless college students or pro-lgbt groups.

Has YouTube compliations of men having gay panics over him.

Has been involved in many scandals and relationships, but many wind up false. Surprisingly. He is honest, so he does confirm if there was any chemistry between him and someone else.

His stans are more open and accepting, they don't really attack you or ruin your life but they can damage your self esteem for good.

They've also trended "#AsmoIsOverParty" just to promote a new project from him.

BEELZEBUB

He's an athlete.

There's plenty of videos of him with his shirt off and he may seem scary to many people, he's our big puppy.

"Beelzebub being cute for 4 minutes and 48 seconds" compliations rival "Levi being shy as a serotonin boost" compliations

Has the most fans. He's mentioned wanting a family and being family oriented before which probably caused his fan base to expand.

If you don't understand the sport, older stans would explain it for you. He also made a YouTube channel where he posts videos explaining how the game works and the positions. There's 5 videos, each video almost an hour long. He hasn't updated his channel since then.

Has also starred in Lucifers movies and usually does his own stunts.

He only wears expensive shoes as long as they last long or are comfortable for him. He also sometimes buys expensive athletic wear but majority of the time he doesn't check how expensive it is as long as he's comfortable.

Every week, he posts a video of himself working out or making a healthy and inexpensive meal to promote a healthier lifestyle.

BELPHAGOR

Music producer.

Despite being known to nap a lot or to be in his room a lot, it's usually because he spends a lot of time making beats and working on lyrics.

He's collaborated with plenty of artists but usually collaborates with Asmo.

Belphie also has his own music company which Asmo is under. Of course there's other producers in so he works alongside them and other artists and he usually makes his own music or adds back vocals to some songs.

If you find the back vocals within it, he's usually growling or moaning. His voice is deep but it's very soothing.

His stans usually send him letters or ask Asmo how he's doing or if he's eaten yet. He is very respected and his stans are FERAL. No mercy, absolutely ruthless.

Once had his mixtape "leaked" by Asmo and it was on the charts for a good while and broke a record or two. He doesn't like talking about it much but he does appreciate it.

He doesn't dress up much but whenever he does, it's like he's a different persona.

[path-of-my-childhood]

Taylor Swift: ‘I was literally about to break’

By: Laura Snapes for The Guardian Date: August 24th 2019

Taylor Swift’s Nashville apartment is an Etsy fever dream, a 365-days-a-year Christmas shop, pure teenage girl id. You enter through a vestibule clad in blue velvet and covered in gilt frames bursting with fake flowers. The ceiling is painted like the night sky. Above a koi pond in the living area, a narrow staircase spirals six feet up towards a giant, pillow-lagged birdcage that probably has the best view in the city. Later, Swift will tell me she needs metaphors “to understand anything that happens to me”, and the birdcage defies you not to interpret it as a pointed comment on the contradictions of stardom.

Swift, wearing pale jeans and dip-dyed shirt, her sandy hair tied in a blue scrunchie, leads the way up the staircase to show me the view. The decor hasn’t changed since she bought this place in 2009, when she was 19. “All of these high rises are new since then,” she says, gesturing at the squat glass structures and cranes. Meanwhile her oven is still covered in stickers, more teenage diary than adult appliance.

Now 29, she has spent much of the past three years living quietly in London with her boyfriend, actor Joe Alwyn, making the penthouse a kind of time capsule, a monument to youthful naivety given an unlimited budget – the years when she sang about Romeo and Juliet and wore ballgowns to awards shows; before she moved to New York and honed her slick, self-mythologising pop.

It is mid-August. This is Swift’s first UK interview in more than three years, and she seems nervous: neither presidential nor goofy (her usual defaults), but quick with a tongue-out “ugh” of regret or frustration as she picks at her glittery purple nails. We climb down from the birdcage to sit by the pond, and when the conversation turns to 2016, the year the wheels came off for her, Swift stiffens as if driving over a mile of speed bumps. After a series of bruising public spats (with Katy Perry, Nicki Minaj) in 2015, there was a high-profile standoff with Kanye West. The news that she was in a relationship with actor Tom Hiddleston, which leaked soon after, was widely dismissed as a diversionary tactic. Meanwhile, Swift went to court to prosecute a sexual assault claim, and faced a furious backlash when she failed to endorse a candidate in the 2016 presidential election, allowing the alt-right to adopt her as their “Aryan princess”.

Her critics assumed she cared only about the bottom line. The reality, Swift says, is that she was totally broken. “Every domino fell,” she says bitterly. “It became really terrifying for anyone to even know where I was. And I felt completely incapable of doing or saying anything publicly, at all. Even about my music. I always said I wouldn’t talk about what was happening personally, because that was a personal time.” She won’t get into specifics. “I just need some things that are mine,” she despairs. “Just some things.”

A year later, in 2017, Swift released her album Reputation, half high-camp heel turn, drawing on hip-hop and vaudeville (the brilliantly hammy Look What You Made Me Do), half stunned appreciation that her nascent relationship with Alwyn had weathered the storm (the soft, sensual pop of songs Delicate and Dress).

Her new album, Lover, her seventh, was released yesterday. It’s much lighter than Reputation: Swift likens writing it to feeling like “I could take a full deep breath again”. Much of it is about Alwyn: the Galway Girl-ish track London Boy lists their favourite city haunts and her newfound appreciation of watching rugby in the pub with his uni mates; on the ruminative Afterglow, she asks him to forgive her anxious tendency to assume the worst.

While she has always written about relationships, they were either teenage fantasy or a postmortem on a high-profile breakup, with exes such as Jake Gyllenhaal and Harry Styles. But she and Alwyn have seldom been pictured together, and their relationship is the only other thing she won’t talk about. “I’ve learned that if I do, people think it’s up for discussion, and our relationship isn’t up for discussion,” she says, laughing after I attempt a stealthy angle. “If you and I were having a glass of wine right now, we’d be talking about it – but it’s just that it goes out into the world. That’s where the boundary is, and that’s where my life has become manageable. I really want to keep it feeling manageable.”

Instead, she has swapped personal disclosure for activism. Last August, Swift broke her political silence to endorse Democratic Tennessee candidate Phil Bredesen in the November 2018 senate race. Vote.org reported an unprecedented spike in voting registration after Swift’s Instagram post, while Donald Trump responded that he liked her music “about 25% less now”.

Meanwhile, her recent single You Need To Calm Down admonished homophobes and namechecked US LGBTQ rights organisation Glaad (which then saw increased donations). Swift filled her video with cameos from queer stars such as Ellen DeGeneres and Queen singer Adam Lambert, and capped it with a call to sign her petition in support of the Equality Act, which if passed would prohibit gender- and sexuality-based discrimination in the US. A video of Polish LGBTQ fans miming the track in defiance of their government’s homophobic agenda went viral. But Swift was accused of “queerbaiting” and bandwagon-jumping. You can see how she might find it hard to work out what, exactly, people want from her.

***

It was girlhood that made Swift a multimillionaire. When country music’s gatekeepers swore that housewives were the only women interested in the genre, she proved them wrong. Her self-titled debut marked the longest stay on the Billboard 200 by any album released in the decade. A potentially cloying image – corkscrew curls, lyrics thick on “daddy” and down-home values – were undercut by the fact she was evidently, endearingly, a bit of a freak, an unusual combination of intensity and artlessness. Also, she was really, really good at what she did, and not just for a teenager: her entirely self-written third album, 2010’s Speak Now, is unmatched in its devastatingly withering dismissals of awful men.

As a teenager, Swift was obsessed with VH1’s Behind The Music, the series devoted to the rise and fall of great musicians. She would forensically rewatch episodes, trying to pinpoint the moment a career went wrong. I ask her to imagine she’s watching the episode about herself and do the same thing: where was her misstep? “Oh my God,” she says, drawing a deep breath and letting her lips vibrate as she exhales. “I mean, that’s so depressing!” She thinks back and tries to deflect. “What I remember is that [the show] was always like, ‘Then we started fighting in the tour bus and then the drummer quit and the guitarist was like, “You’re not paying me enough.”’’’

But that’s not what she used to say. In interviews into her early 20s, Swift often observed that an artist fails when they lose their self-awareness, as if repeating the fact would work like an insurance against succumbing to the same fate. But did she make that mistake herself? She squeezes her nose and blows to clear a ringing in her ears before answering. “I definitely think that sometimes you don’t realise how you’re being perceived,” she says. “Pop music can feel like it’s The Hunger Games, and like we’re gladiators. And you can really lose focus of the fact that that’s how it feels because that’s how a lot of stan [fan] Twitter and tabloids and blogs make it seem – the overanalysing of everything makes it feel really intense.”

She describes the way she burned bridges in 2016 as a kind of obliviousness. “I didn’t realise it was like a classic overthrow of someone in power – where you didn’t realise the whispers behind your back, you didn’t realise the chain reaction of events that was going to make everything fall apart at the exact, perfect time for it to fall apart.”

Here’s that chain reaction in full. With her 2014 album 1989 (the year she was born), Swift transcended country stardom, becoming as ubiquitous as Beyoncé. For the first time she vocally embraced feminism, something she had rejected in her teens; but, after a while, it seemed to amount to not much more than a lot of pictures of her hanging out with her “squad”, a bevy of supermodels, musicians and Lena Dunham. The squad very much did not include her former friend Katy Perry, whom Swift targeted in her song Bad Blood, as part of what seemed like a painfully overblown dispute about some backing dancers. Then, when Nicki Minaj tweeted that MTV’s 2015 Video Music awards had rewarded white women at the expense of women of colour, multiple-nominee Swift took it personally, responding: “Maybe one of the men took your slot.” For someone prone to talking about the haters, she quickly became her own worst enemy.

Her old adversary Kanye West resurfaced in February 2016. In 2009, West had invaded Swift’s stage at the MTV VMAs to protest against her victory over Beyoncé in the female video of the year category. It remains the peak of interest in Swift on Google Trends, and the conflict between them has become such a cornerstone of celebrity journalism that it’s hard to remember it lay dormant for nearly seven years – until West released his song Famous. “I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex,” he rapped. “Why? I made that bitch famous.” The video depicted a Swift mannequin naked in bed with men including Trump.

Swift loudly condemned both; although she had discussed the track with West, she said she had never agreed to the “bitch” lyric or the video. West’s wife, Kim Kardashian, released a heavily edited clip that showed Swift at least agreeing to the “sex” line on the phone with West, if not the “bitch” part. Swift pleaded the technicality, but it made no difference: when Kardashian went on Twitter to describe her as a snake, the comparison stuck and the singer found herself very publicly “cancelled” – the incident taken as “proof” of Swift’s insincerity. So she went away.

Swift says she stopped trying to explain herself, even though she “definitely” could have. As she worked on Reputation, she was also writing “a think-piece a day that I knew I would never publish: the stuff I would say, and the different facets of the situation that nobody knew”. If she could exonerate herself, why didn’t she? She leans forward. “Here’s why,” she says conspiratorially. “Because when people are in a hate frenzy and they find something to mutually hate together, it bonds them. And anything you say is in an echo chamber of mockery.”

She compares that year to being hit by a tidal wave. “You can either stand there and let the wave crash into you, and you can try as hard as you can to fight something that’s more powerful and bigger than you,” she says. “Or you can dive under the water, hold your breath, wait for it to pass and while you’re down there, try to learn something. Why was I in that part of the ocean? There were clearly signs that said: Rip tide! Undertow! Don’t swim! There are no lifeguards!” She’s on a roll. “Why was I there? Why was I trusting people I trusted? Why was I letting people into my life the way I was letting them in? What was I doing that caused this?”

After the incident with Minaj, her critics started pointing out a narrative of “white victimhood” in Swift’s career. Speaking slowly and carefully, she says she came to understand “a lot about how my privilege allowed me to not have to learn about white privilege. I didn’t know about it as a kid, and that is privilege itself, you know? And that’s something that I’m still trying to educate myself on every day. How can I see where people are coming from, and understand the pain that comes with the history of our world?”

She also accepts some responsibility for her overexposure, and for some of the tabloid drama. If she didn’t wish a friend happy birthday on Instagram, there would be reports about severed friendships, even if they had celebrated together. “Because we didn’t post about it, it didn’t happen – and I realised I had done that,” she says. “I created an expectation that everything in my life that happened, people would see.”

But she also says she couldn’t win. “I’m kinda used to being gaslit by now,” she drawls wearily. “And I think it happens to women so often that, as we get older and see how the world works, we’re able to see through what is gaslighting. So I’m able to look at 1989 and go – KITTIES!” She breaks off as an assistant walks in with Swift’s three beloved cats, stars of her Instagram feed, back from the vet before they fly to England this week. Benjamin, Olivia and Meredith haughtily circle our feet (they are scared of the koi) as Swift resumes her train of thought, back to the release of 1989 and the subsequent fallout. “Oh my God, they were mad at me for smiling a lot and quote-unquote acting fake. And then they were mad at me that I was upset and bitter and kicking back.” The rules kept changing.

***

Swift’s new album comes with printed excerpts from her diaries. On 29 August 2016, she wrote in her girlish, bubble writing: “This summer is the apocalypse.” As the incident with West and Kardashian unfolded, she was preparing for her court case against radio DJ David Mueller, who was fired in 2013 after Swift reported him for putting his hand up her dress at a meet-and–greet event. He sued her for defamation; she countersued for sexual assault.

“Having dealt with a few of them, narcissists basically subscribe to a belief system that they should be able to do and say whatever the hell they want, whenever the hell they want to,” Swift says now, talking at full pelt. “And if we – as anyone else in the world, but specifically women – react to that, well, we’re not allowed to. We’re not allowed to have a reaction to their actions.”

In summer 2016 she was in legal depositions, practising her testimony. “You’re supposed to be really polite to everyone,” she says. But by the time she got to court in August 2017, “something snapped, I think”. She laughs. Her testimony was sharp and uncompromising. She refused to allow Mueller’s lawyers to blame her or her security guards; when asked if she could see the incident, Swift said no, because “my ass is in the back of my body”. It was a brilliant, rude defence.

“You’re supposed to behave yourself in court and say ‘rear end’,” she says with mock politesse. “The other lawyer was saying, ‘When did he touch your backside?’ And I was like, ‘ASS! Call it what it is!’” She claps between each word. But despite the acclaim for her testimony and eventual victory (she asked for one symbolic dollar), she still felt belittled. It was two months prior to the beginning of the #MeToo movement. “Even this case was literally twisted so hard that people were calling it the ‘butt-grab case’. They were saying I sued him because there’s this narrative that I want to sue everyone. That was one of the reasons why the summer was the apocalypse.”

She never wanted the assault to be made public. Have there been other instances she has dealt with privately? “Actually, no,” she says soberly. “I’m really lucky that it hadn’t happened to me before. But that was one of the reasons it was so traumatising. I just didn’t know that could happen. It was really brazen, in front of seven people.” She has since had security cameras installed at every meet-and-greet she does, deliberately pointed at her lower half. “If something happens again, we can prove it with video footage from every angle,” she says.

The allegations about Harvey Weinstein came out soon after she won her case. The film producer had asked her to write a song for the romantic comedy One Chance, which earned her second Golden Globe nomination. Weinstein also got her a supporting role in the 2014 sci-fi movie The Giver, and attended the launch party for 1989. But she says they were never alone together.

“He’d call my management and be like, ‘Does she have a song for this film?’ And I’d be like, ‘Here it is,’” she says dispassionately. “And then I’d be at the Golden Globes. I absolutely never hung out. And I would get a vibe – I would never vouch for him. I believe women who come forward, I believe victims who come forward, I believe men who come forward.” Swift inhales, flustered. She says Weinstein never propositioned her. “If you listen to the stories, he picked people who were vulnerable, in his opinion. It seemed like it was a power thing. So, to me, that doesn’t say anything – that I wasn’t in that situation.”

Meanwhile, Donald Trump was more than nine months into his presidency, and still Swift had not taken a position. But the idea that a pop star could ever have impeded his path to the White House seemed increasingly naive. In hindsight, the demand that Swift speak up looks less about politics and more about her identity (white, rich, powerful) and a moralistic need for her to redeem herself – as if nobody else had ever acted on a vindictive instinct, or blundered publicly.

But she resisted what might have been an easy return to public favour. Although Reputation contained softer love songs, it was better known for its brittle, vengeful side (see This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things). She describes that side of the album now as a “bit of a persona”, and its hip-hop-influenced production as “a complete defence mechanism”. Personally, I thought she had never been more relatable, trashing the contract of pious relatability that traps young women in the public eye.

***

It was the assault trial, and watching the rights of LGBTQ friends be eroded, that finally politicised her, Swift says. “The things that happen to you in your life are what develop your political opinions. I was living in this Obama eight-year paradise of, you go, you cast your vote, the person you vote for wins, everyone’s happy!” she says. “This whole thing, the last three, four years, it completely blindsided a lot of us, me included.”

She recently said she was “dismayed” when a friend pointed out that her position on gay rights wasn’t obvious (what if she had a gay son, he asked), hence this summer’s course correction with the single You Need To Calm Down (“You’re comin’ at my friends like a missile/Why are you mad?/When you could be GLAAD?”). Didn’t she feel equally dismayed that her politics weren’t clear? “I did,” she insists, “and I hate to admit this, but I felt that I wasn’t educated enough on it. Because I hadn’t actively tried to learn about politics in a way that I felt was necessary for me, making statements that go out to hundreds of millions of people.”

She explains her inner conflict. “I come from country music. The number one thing they absolutely drill into you as a country artist, and you can ask any other country artist this, is ‘Don’t be like the Dixie Chicks!’” In 2003, the Texan country trio denounced the Iraq war, saying they were “ashamed” to share a home state with George W Bush. There was a boycott, and an event where a bulldozer crushed their CDs. “I watched country music snuff that candle out. The most amazing group we had, just because they talked about politics. And they were getting death threats. They were made such an example that basically every country artist that came after that, every label tells you, ‘Just do not get involved, no matter what.’

“And then, you know, if there was a time for me to get involved…” Swift pauses. “The worst part of the timing of what happened in 2016 was I felt completely voiceless. I just felt like, oh God, who would want me? Honestly.” She would otherwise have endorsed Hillary Clinton? “Of course,” she says sincerely. “I just felt completely, ugh, just useless. And maybe even like a hindrance.”

I suggest that, thinking selfishly, her coming out for Clinton might have made people like her. “I wasn’t thinking like that,” she stresses. “I was just trying to protect my mental health – not read the news very much, go cast my vote, tell people to vote. I just knew what I could handle and I knew what I couldn’t. I was literally about to break. For a while.” Did she seek therapy? “That stuff I just really wanna keep personal, if that’s OK,” she says.

She resists blaming anyone else for her political silence. Her emergence as a Democrat came after she left Big Machine, the label she signed to at 15. (They are now at loggerheads after label head Scott Borchetta sold the company, and the rights to Swift’s first six albums, to Kanye West’s manager, Scooter Braun.) Had Borchetta ever advised her against speaking out? She exhales. “It was just me and my life, and also doing a lot of self-reflection about how I did feel really remorseful for not saying anything. I wanted to try and help in any way that I could, the next time I got a chance. I didn’t help, I didn’t feel capable of it – and as soon as I can, I’m going to.”

Swift was once known for throwing extravagant 4 July parties at her Rhode Island mansion. The Instagram posts from these star-studded events – at which guests wore matching stars-and-stripes bikinis and onesies – probably supported a significant chunk of the celebrity news industry GDP. But in 2017, they stopped. “The horror!” wrote Cosmopolitan, citing “reasons that remain a mystery” for their disappearance. It wasn’t “squad” strife or the unavailability of matching cozzies that brought the parties to an end, but Swift’s disillusionment with her country, she says.

There is a smart song about this on the new album – the track that should have been the first single, instead of the cartoonish ME!. Miss Americana And The Heartbreak Prince is a forlorn, gothic ballad in the vein of Lana Del Rey that uses high-school imagery to dismantle American nationalism: “The whole school is rolling fake dice/You play stupid games/You win stupid prizes,” she sings with disdain. “Boys will be boys then/Where are the wise men?”

As an ambitious 11-year-old, she worked out that singing the national anthem at sports games was the quickest way to get in front of a large audience. When did she start feeling conflicted about what America stands for? She gives another emphatic ugh. “It was the fact that all the dirtiest tricks in the book were used and it worked,” she says. “The thing I can’t get over right now is gaslighting the American public into being like” – she adopts a sanctimonious tone – “‘If you hate the president, you hate America.’ We’re a democracy – at least, we’re supposed to be – where you’re allowed to disagree, dissent, debate.” She doesn’t use Trump’s name. “I really think that he thinks this is an autocracy.”

As we speak, Tennessee lawmakers are trying to impose a near-total ban on abortion. Swift has staunchly defended her “Tennessee values” in recent months. What’s her position? “I mean, obviously, I’m pro-choice, and I just can’t believe this is happening,” she says. She looks close to tears. “I can’t believe we’re here. It’s really shocking and awful. And I just wanna do everything I can for 2020. I wanna figure out exactly how I can help, what are the most effective ways to help. ’Cause this is just…” She sighs again. “This is not it.”

***

It is easy to forget that the point of all this is that a teenage Taylor Swiftwanted to write love songs. Nemeses and negativity are now so entrenched in her public persona that it’s hard to know how she can get back to that, though she seems to want to. At the end of Daylight, the new album’s dreamy final song, there’s a spoken-word section: “I want to be defined by the things that I love,” she says as the music fades. “Not the things that I hate, not the things I’m afraid of, the things that haunt me in the middle of the night.” As well as the songs written for Alwyn, there is one for her mother, who recently experienced a cancer relapse: “You make the best of a bad deal/I just pretend it isn’t real,” Swift sings, backed by the Dixie Chicks.

How does writing about her personal life work if she’s setting clearer boundaries? “It actually made me feel more free,” she says. “I’ve always had this habit of never really going into detail about exactly what situation inspired what thing, but even more so now.” This is only half true: in the past, Swift wasn’t shy of a level of detail that invited fans to figure out specific truths about her relationships. And when I tell her that Lover feels a more emotionally guarded album, she bristles. “I know the difference between making art and living your life like a reality star,” she says. “And then even if it’s hard for other people to grasp, my definition is really clear.”

Even so, Swift begins Lover by addressing an adversary, opening with a song called I Forgot That You Existed (“it isn’t love, it isn’t hate, it’s just indifference”), presumably aimed at Kanye West, a track that slightly defeats its premise by existing. But it sweeps aside old dramas to confront Swift’s real nemesis, herself. “I never grew up/It’s getting so old,” she laments on The Archer.

She has had to learn not to pre-empt disaster, nor to run from it. Her life has been defined by relationships, friendships and business relationships that started and ended very publicly (though she and Perry are friends again). At the same time, the rules around celebrity engagement have evolved beyond recognition in her 15 years of fame. Rather than trying to adapt to them, she’s now asking herself: “How do you learn to maintain? How do you learn not to have these phantom disasters in your head that you play out, and how do you stop yourself from sabotage – because the panic mechanism in your brain is telling you that something must go wrong.” For her, this is what growing up is. “You can’t just make cut-and-dry decisions in life. A lot of things are a negotiation and a grey area and a dance of how to figure it out.”

And so this time, Swift is sticking around. In December she will turn 30, marking the point after which more than half her life will have been lived in public. She’ll start her new decade with a stronger self-preservationist streak, and a looser grip (as well as a cameo in Cats). “You can’t micromanage life, it turns out,” she says, drily.

When Swift finally answered my question about the moment she would choose in the VH1 Behind The Music episode about herself, the one where her career turned, she said she hoped it wouldn’t focus on her “apocalypse” summer of 2016. “Maybe this is wishful thinking,” she said, “but I’d like to think it would be in a couple of years.” It’s funny to hear her hope that the worst is still to come while sitting in her fairytale living room, the cats pacing: a pragmatist at odds with her romantic monument to teenage dreams. But it sounds something like perspective.

[solange-lol]

not so typical love song - ch. 7/13

Chapter Title: Love Me

Words: 3,332

Art by @lizzybizzyo! <3

[ one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight (coming soon)]

read on ao3

—

Thanksgiving came and went, and soon Bianca was on her train back to college, leaving a quiet house in her absence. 

They talked, of course, more than they had talked over the phone. But they never went in deep about anything. Nico never brought up his secret, and Bianca dropped asking about homecoming all together.

It felt like she already knew. Nico came so close to telling her just to get that weight off his chest, but every time he was about to bring it up, he didn’t. 

It felt so dangerous with the circumstance he was already under. Technically, he had already come out to two people, but something about telling someone face to face out of his own will terrified him. 

Deep down, he knew Bianca wouldn’t care. So why was he so scared?

The same reason he was scared to tell any of his friends, probably. He didn’t want anything to change, didn’t want their view on him to change. And if word got out, the best thing to ever happen to him would slip away. He couldn’t lose Blue, not now. 

Not ever.

Drew’s voice cut through his thoughts, as she finished her long list of plans for Christmas break, before asking “Anybody else going somewhere for Christmas?” they had been folding programs for the show at this rehearsal as people were getting fitted for costumes.

Nico shrugged as if he had been listening to what she had been saying the entire time. “Staying here. We have a classic di Angelo gingerbread decorating contest.” He said as he folded the program in his hand that he realized he had been clutching, unfolded for a few minutes now.

Piper grinned next to him. “I was the judge last year with Jason. You should have seen Nico’s house! Covered it with red frosting to look like blood with dead gingerbread men and ghosts! Called it his gingerdead house”

Nico tried to ignore the sound of Will laughing across from him, blue eyes squinting as his smile grew. He was there helping out backstage, mainly just to bother Lou Ellen and Cecil. (And to not let Nico get over his crush, apparently.) His gaze moved quickly from Octavian (ew) to Drew, who was rolling her eyes.

“What about you, Piper?” she asked, switching focus.

Piper shifted uncomfortably. “My dad will probably be away on a shoot, so either I’ll fly out to be with him, or I’ll be home alone,” she said, trying to shrug it off, but Nco could see the sadness in her eyes.

He patted her knee. “Come over to my house if you need to. I’m sure my parents would love to have you as a judge again.”

When he looked up, Will was smiling at him again, making Nico’s chest clench. 

“I’m going to a cabin with my mom,” Percy grinned from where he was sitting, not helping them at all. “No WiFi, just me and my mom and the lake.”

“In the middle of the winter?” Piper asked. “Won’t it be frozen?”

“Yup. Prime ice skating conditions.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “I hope you fall in,” her muttered, earning another laugh from Will, making his chest even tighter. 

“We don’t usually go anywhere, but I think my mom is planning a trip for me and my siblings this year. Bonding, or something,” Will says after a moment.

“You have siblings?” Nico asked, surprised. He never recalled Will ever mentioning them. “Do they go here?”

Now it was Will’s turn to look uncomfortable. “Oh, um, yeah. I have a sister and a brother. Kayla and Austin.” His smile was still there, but there was an emotion in his eyes that Nico couldn’t quite read.

“Cool,” he said, softly, not wanting to push Will any further, although it left him with more questions than answers. 

Next to Will, Octavian suddenly sucked in air through his teeth, dramatically dropping the program he had been folding. If that weren’t enough to convince Nico that he wasn’t actually hurt, he grabbed his finger with a dramatic “Owww.”

Nico sighed. Wherever Octavian was going with this, he didn’t like it. “You good?”

“Yeah, paper cut,” he responded, giving Nico a look saying come with me. Nico could see that perfectly clear, but he chose to ignore it. When he did, Octavian continued. “Nico, do you know where the bandages are?”

“Yeah, they’re right back there in the supply closet,” Nico said, still not giving in.

“You mind showing me?”

Nico had to stop himself from groaning. He wanted to scream at Octavian to just leave him alone for once, but there was no way out of this situation he was stuck in. Octavian, always concerned about himself, didn’t know how to take a hint either. He nodded his head towards the closet, and Nico just sighed as he stood up. Worried glances from both Piper and Will followed him, but he shook it off.

“Be right back,” he assured them, which only seemed to settle Piper as he followed Octavian to the back.

When they walked into the closet, Octavian spun on his heel. “I don’t actually have a paper cut.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Nico muttered.

 “I don’t want to have to leak your emails, di Angelo, but-”

“Look, you can’t bring Blue into this,” Nico cut him off angrily. “If he found out my emails got leaked, he would disappear. He’d never talk to me again.” Just the idea of it made tears prick at his eyes. 

One of these days, Octavian is going to push too far, and Nico is going to break. 

Octavian just shrugged. “Yeah, he probably would. Internet’s a freaky place to meet people.”

Just as Nico was about to argue back at him, Piper walked through the door, causing them both to panic.

“..Freaky Friday!” Nico said suddenly, trying to recover from anything she might have overheard.

Octavian nodded along. “Fun movie.” It wasn’t great acting (better than his fake paper cut bit) but Nico appreciated the coverup. Octavian was still far from a decent human being, but at least he didn’t out Nico. Yet.

Piper looked between the two of them, a confused smile growing on her face. “You guys are weird,” he states, before moving to look around the closet. “I just came to get a band-aid. You were right, those programs are a bitch.”

 Octavian elbowed him, signaling Nico to say something. He quickly thought of an idea, bracing himself as he began to talk. Please don’t hate me, Piper. 

“So, um, Octavian was having some trouble with his lines, so we were thinking of going to the Waffle House tonight and go over them, run a few scenes, if you wanna come,” he said quickly, trying his best to seem natural about it. Please don’t hate me, Piper. Please don’t hate me.

For a moment, Piper’s face dropped, as did Nico’s stomach. Please don’t hate him. He messed up. Please don’t hate him.

Then, the smile was back. “Really?” she asked earnestly. “That would be great, actually!” Both relief and guilt flooded Nico.

Octavian patted him on the back the moment Piper was out of sight again. “Good work di Angelo.”

“Go to hell, Octavian.”

—

Nico slipped out of the Waffle House the moment he noticed Leo standing outside, most likely on his break. 

Actually, he was escaping the hell that was his booth with Piper and Octavian, as well as Octavian’s multiple attempts of flirting. He was hurting Piper, not that she realized, and it was hurting him in the process. Leo just happened to be the perfect excuse to get him away from all that.

Leo Valdez is a junior, though Nico’s never really talked to him that much before. They’ve had a few classes together over the years, and Nico knows he’s good friends with Piper and Jason, but for some reason, he’s never really seen him around. He’s also a waiter at Waffle House, apparently, and something about him is setting off bells in Nico’s head.

Nico doesn’t think he’s Blue. Leo is like a ball of fire, while Blue is a calming wave. And yet, there’s more than one side to a person, so he hasn’t ruled him out yet. And besides, maybe he’ll at least be interesting to get to know. 

He shivered, pulling his jacket tighter as he walked over to Leo, who was typing something on his phone. “Were you in my Bio class last year?” Nico asked, and Leo looked up from his phone, surprised.

 “I think so, yeah.”

“Were you there last year when some kid ate the flower we were experimenting on while we had a sub, and she emailed our teacher who had to email the class because it turned out the flower was poisonous?” 

Leo grinned. “Yep. That was me, actually, who ate the flower.”

Not the response Nico was expecting, but he’ll take it. “Wait, really? What happened?”

“Called poison control, got it all sorted out.” Leo was still grinning, sort of mischievously like he was planning it all over again. “Somehow I lived through.”

Nico smiled. “Somehow.”

Leo glanced back at the restaurant. “Nancy’s glaring, that’s my cue to go. See ya, di Angelo,” he said, tapping one last thing on his phone before he walked back inside while Nico just stood there and watched.

He wasn’t completely sure if Leo was Blue or not. Sure, he wouldn’t mind if Leo was Blue. He was funny and charismatic, which was helpful to have in social situations. And he was pretty good looking. (Or maybe Nico just had a thing for curly hair.) At the same time, though, it felt like maybe their personalities were completely different. So was Nico just making it up because he liked the idea of it, or did he actually believe it? He wasn’t really sure.

Until his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Only a second ago had Leo been typing something on his phone. That last tap before he went inside could have been him hitting the send button. If it was that perfectly lined up, could it really be a coincidence?

Leo’s voice echoed in his head as he read the email.

From: blue0919@gmail.com

To: bettertoburn@gmail.com

Date: Nov 30 at 5:57 PM

Subject: Holiday Horrors

My mom is currently planning a trip for Hanukkah, which I don’t think we’ve ever done before, but I think she just wants my siblings (still weird to say) to feel okay coming into this family. Obviously, I still don’t really know that much about them, but I really hope they like me and feel as safe here as I do.

It’s also sort of scary because I imagine when I tell my mom, I’ll probably have to tell them too. I just hope that doesn’t change anything/

My dad wanted me to see him, spend a day with him over the holidays, but I passed up. He’s already shown me all that he can give me, I don’t need anything more. On the other hand, though, my mom told me he’s bisexual, so maybe I could get my first real coming out over with him. Or not, I don’t know. Do I trade up my first experience just for it to be easy? I feel like I need to get used to it not being easy.

Maybe I’m just going crazy.

Love, Blue

From: bettertoburn@gmail.com

To: blue0919@gmail.com

Date: Nov 30 at 6:01

Subject: re: Holiday Horrors

I don’t think you’re going crazy Blue. Crazy brave, if that’s what you meant. And crazy caring and compassionate at that. I’m sure your siblings love you for all your efforts. If they haven’t yet, they will. Take it from experience.

Love, Angel. 

Nico grinned to himself all the way through Blue’s email, as well as his own. He might not know who Blue is, but he knows what kind of person he is. Maybe it’s better that way. And something about that email made him consider maybe, maybe coming out to Hazel. She’s the one person Nico knows would love him through anything. 

Oh, and Leo isn’t completely ruled out yet either.

Nico’s got a lot to think about now as he heads back inside to the table from hell.

When he slid back into the booth, Octavian was dramatically leaning over the table, pointing his finger at a smiling Piper. “You, Piper McLean, deserve a goddamn superhero.” Immediately, his good mood is gone as he rolls his eyes. 

Ugh, give him a break.

—

“Octavian used to annoy the crap outta me, but he’s actually kind of...” Piper shrugged, looking out the window. “I don’t know. Not as bad.”

Nico sighed, gripping the steering wheel. There was a pit in his stomach that was weighing him down with guilt. He so desperately wanted to do the right thing, but honestly, he didn’t even know what that would be anymore. Tricking Piper like this, though, he knew that wasn’t right. He wasn’t sure what would make it better by this point, so he brought up something that could distract him.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about your parents,” he said quietly as if he might be waking a monster. He found out pretty quick what was happening inside the restaurant when he got back. Octavian had pushed her, maybe a little too far, about her past. While it sort of hurt that she easily told him over Nico, he assumed it was his fault for never asking. “I just never wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

Piper shrugs, turning away from the window but still not looking at him. “Yeah, I don’t mention them that much. Kind of messes with my image.”

“What image?”

She shrugs again. “The girl who's only been at this school for a year and doesn’t want to be known as the one with the famous dad, or the mom that left them. The girl who's angry and sad all the time and has a history of being a kleptomaniac. A girl who still believes in love.”

Oh. “I didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t know if you wanted to.”

Nico cleared his throat. “You still believe in love?” he attempted to scoff, but his heart was beating so fast he just sounded nervous.

“I don’t know, maybe.” Piper glanced over at him. “Have you ever been in love?”

Nico didn’t say anything for a moment. He didn’t know what to say. What could he say right now? Anything, really. He could tell her everything. But at what cost? 

“I think so,” he said, before he pulled the car over.

Nico could see Piper glancing around in confusion, maybe almost nervous as they slowed to a stop. God, what if she thinks he’s in love with her? There’s no way he’s getting out of this without telling her.

“Piper?” Nico asks, not really sure what he’s asking. He takes a breath.

Piper gave him a look he couldn't read. “Yeah?”

“I’m gay.”

It came out almost like a question like he’s asking for acceptance. The words hung in the air for just a moment, then-

“Oh,” she smiled, and the tension broke. “Okay.”

“You can’t tell anyone though. Nobody really knows, and I don’t really want people to find out yet-”

She shook her head. “I won’t, I promise.”

“Okay,” he whispered. His heart was still beating fast, but warmth filled his chest. 

He did it.

They sat in silence for a moment, not making eye contact, before Nico asked, “You surprised?”

“No.”

“So, you knew?” he asked, fearfully glancing over at her. How many other people knew?

“No,” she assured him. 

“But you’re not surprised?”

Piper smiled again, and any nerves he had left completely drained from his body. “Do you want me to be surprised?” she asked genuinely.

For the first time, Nico smiled softly too. “I don’t know,” he said almost laughing as he looked back out the window. 

“Okay,” she was still looking at him; he could see her smile out of the corner of his eye. “Well, I love you, so…”

He let himself glance over at her, trying to ignore the pegging thoughts in his brain reminding him how much he would be hurting her right now if she knew. The warmth in his chest was gone, and now it was just tight with all the love and the hurt. Maybe he didn’t believe in romantic love (he honestly didn’t know yet) but there was some kind of love in this world, and he was so lucky to have it.

But what if she knew? “I love you too.”

Her smile, softer than before, hurt more than anything else.

Nico let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, turning on his blinker as he began to drive again.

“There’s no one behind us you don’t need to-” Piper started and Nico almost laughed. The moment was over, maybe he could stop thinking about it.

“I know, just being safe.”

“Okay,” she whispered, and Nico could tell she was still smiling at him.

He tried to ignore the tightness that still remained in his chest as they drove away.

—

When Nico got home that night, he went straight to his room. He opened the window that led to a small balcony and climbed through. He sat down, leaning his head against the fence and looked up at the stars.

When he was younger, so much younger that the memories were faint, his mom would take him out here before she died every time he was scared or upset. He could hear her voice in his ear as he stared up at the sky.

“If things are changing-” she would tell him. “Just remember the stars are still there. Even if it's cloudy at night or if the sun is out, they’re still there. Find peace in that.”

What would she think of him now?

He pulled his phone out, wiping away a stray tear that tried to escape, and opened his email.

From: bettertoburn@gmail.com

To: blue0919@gmail.com

Date: Nov 30 at 9:05 PM

Subject: You inspired me

You inspired me tonight, Blue. I came out to one of my friends and it went really well, so thank you.

I hope everything goes okay with your mom and your siblings, but I’m pretty sure it will.

Maybe afterward we can ride this bravery train and come out to each other for real? I’m dying to know who you are.

Love, Angel

He sent the email before he could overthink it, and went back inside to do homework, giving the stars one last glance.

Right before he was about to fall asleep later that night, he got a response.

From: blue0919@gmail.com

To: bettertoburn@gmail.com

Date: Dec 1 at 12:11 AM

Subject: re: You inspired me

I actually came out to everyone tonight. I thought it would be easier to just air it out now and let them think before we were stuck together with no escape on whatever vacation we’re going on. 

Everything went surprisingly okay. My mom of course was supportive, saying she would make me flag cookies for pride month and everything which was very sweet (literally). And my siblings were also nice about it. I really don’t think they care as much as I thought they would. (I almost made a joke about how I got it from my dad, but I didn’t want to push things.)

And you’ve got it all wrong. It’s you who inspires me.

I’m really glad everything went well with your friend. I’m just not ready yet for you to tell me. The real me. I’m sorry.

Love, Blue

(P.S- if it helps, I can’t stop thinking about who you are either. Someday soon I’ll tell you. Just not yet).

(P.P.S- Happy December! Rabbits Rabbits Rabbits and all that)

Sure, Nico was disappointed, but it was okay. Blue had said someday soon, and all Nico had to do was hold onto that promise.

[caitsbooks]

6 Summer Adult Romances!

Click here to view the full post on my blog, or read more to find out more about these books!

Despite still feeling kinda new to the romance genre, I wanted to compile a list of some of my favorite romance novel’s I’ve read, that I think are perfect for summer.

Whether you’ll be reading on the beach or nice and comfortable in air conditioning, these books will be the perfect addition to your summer!!

Read more for descriptions of each book, plus check out my blog to see 6 YA Romances that are perfect for summer!

Blog || Goodreads || Bookstagram || Twitter  || Reviews

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THE HATING GAME BY SALLY THORNE

Page Count: 387 pages Publisher: William Morrow Release Date: August 9th, 2016 Purchase Options: Amazon, Indiebound, Barnes and Noble [ Click Here For My Full Review ]

“Lucy Hutton has always been certain that the nice girl can get the corner office. She’s charming and accommodating and prides herself on being loved by everyone at Bexley & Gamin. Everyone except for coldly efficient, impeccably attired, physically intimidating Joshua Templeman. And the feeling is mutual. Trapped in a shared office together 40 (OK, 50 or 60) hours a week, they’ve become entrenched in an addictive, ridiculous never-ending game of one-upmanship. There’s the Staring Game. The Mirror Game. The HR Game. Lucy can’t let Joshua beat her at anything—especially when a huge new promotion goes up for the taking. If Lucy wins this game, she’ll be Joshua’s boss. If she loses, she’ll resign. So why is she suddenly having steamy dreams about Joshua, and dressing for work like she’s got a hot date? After a perfectly innocent elevator ride ends with an earth-shattering kiss, Lucy starts to wonder whether she’s got Joshua Templeman all wrong. Maybe Lucy Hutton doesn’t hate Joshua Templeman. And maybe, he doesn’t hate her either. Or maybe this is just another game.”

This book is what finally pushed me into reading adult romances. Yeah, I had read a couple before this one, but this is the book that made me fall in love with the genre. I know it’s been talked about by most everyone, but if you haven’t read it yet, this summer is the perfect time (especially with the movie in the works)!

THE KISS QUOTIENT (THE KISS QUOTIENT #1) BY HELEN HOANG

Page Count: 333 pages Publisher: Berkley Release Date: June 5th, 2018 Purchase Options: Amazon, Indiebound, Barnes and Noble [ Click Here For My Full Review ]

“Stella Lane thinks math is the only thing that unites the universe. She comes up with algorithms to predict customer purchases — a job that has given her more money than she knows what to do with, and way less experience in the dating department than the average thirty-year-old. It doesn’t help that Stella has Asperger’s and French kissing reminds her of a shark getting its teeth cleaned by pilot fish. Her conclusion: she needs lots of practice — with a professional. Which is why she hires escort Michael Phan. The Vietnamese and Swedish stunner can’t afford to turn down Stella’s offer, and agrees to help her check off all the boxes on her lesson plan — from foreplay to more-than-missionary position… Before long, Stella not only learns to appreciate his kisses, but to crave all the other things he’s making her feel. Soon, their no-nonsense partnership starts making a strange kind of sense. And the pattern that emerges will convince Stella that love is the best kind of logic… ”

Firstly, if you aren’t a fan of series, don’t worry. This is just a series of companion novels, so you don’t have to commit to them. But trust me when I say, after reading this, you will want to. I just love this book so much. These characters are just absolutely amazing and you will not regret picking this up!

JOSH AND HAZEL’S GUIDE TO NOT DATING BY CHRISTINA LAUREN

Page Count: 309 pages Publisher: Gallery Books Release Date: September 4th, 2018 Purchase Options: Amazon, Indiebound, Barnes and Noble [ Click Here For My Full Review ]

“Hazel Camille Bradford knows she’s a lot to take—and frankly, most men aren’t up to the challenge. If her army of pets and thrill for the absurd don’t send them running, her lack of filter means she’ll say exactly the wrong thing in a delicate moment. Their loss. She’s a good soul in search of honest fun. Josh Im has known Hazel since college, where her zany playfulness proved completely incompatible with his mellow restraint. From the first night they met—when she gracelessly threw up on his shoes—to when she sent him an unintelligible email while in a post-surgical haze, Josh has always thought of Hazel more as a spectacle than a peer. But now, ten years later, after a cheating girlfriend has turned his life upside down, going out with Hazel is a breath of fresh air. Not that Josh and Hazel date. At least, not each other. Because setting each other up on progressively terrible double blind dates means there’s nothing between them…right?”

I have two Christina Lauren books on this list because I am addicted to their books. However, this one is by far my favorite of theirs. It’s a friends-to-lovers done so well, you won’t be able to put it down. I know I wasn’t able to.

RED, WHITE, AND ROYAL BLUE BY CASEY MCQUISTON

Page Count: 423 pages Publisher: St. Martin’s Griffin Release Date: May 14th, 2019 Purchase Options: Amazon, Indiebound, Barnes and Noble [ Click Here For My Full Review ]

“First Son Alex Claremont-Diaz is the closest thing to a prince this side of the Atlantic. With his intrepid sister and the Veep’s genius granddaughter, they’re the White House Trio, a beautiful millennial marketing strategy for his mother, President Ellen Claremont. International socialite duties do have downsides—namely, when photos of a confrontation with his longtime nemesis Prince Henry at a royal wedding leak to the tabloids and threaten American/British relations.

The plan for damage control: staging a fake friendship between the First Son and the Prince. Alex is busy enough handling his mother’s bloodthirsty opponents and his own political ambitions without an uptight royal slowing him down. But beneath Henry’s Prince Charming veneer, there’s a soft-hearted eccentric with a dry sense of humor and more than one ghost haunting him.

As President Claremont kicks off her reelection bid, Alex finds himself hurtling into a secret relationship with Henry that could derail the campaign and upend two nations. And Henry throws everything into question for Alex, an impulsive, charming guy who thought he knew everything: What is worth the sacrifice? How do you do all the good you can do? And, most importantly, how will history remember you?”

You all knew I would have to put this book on here. It’s my obsession. The love of my life. I know this book is getting a lot of hype right now, but let me tell you, it deserves all of it. This book is really something special. Not only is it an adorable romance with enemies-to-lovers and plenty of wit, but it’s also a powerful read that you don’t want to miss.

THE UNHONEYMOONERS BY CHRISTINA LAUREN

Page Count: 400 Publisher: May 14th, 2019 Release Date: Gallery Books Purchase Options: Amazon, Indiebound, Barnes and Noble [ Click Here For My Full Review ]

“Olive is always unlucky: in her career, in love, in…well, everything. Her identical twin sister Ami, on the other hand, is probably the luckiest person in the world. Her meet-cute with her fiancé is something out of a romantic comedy (gag) and she’s managed to finance her entire wedding by winning a series of Internet contests (double gag). Worst of all, she’s forcing Olive to spend the day with her sworn enemy, Ethan, who just happens to be the best man. Olive braces herself to get through 24 hours of wedding hell before she can return to her comfortable, unlucky life. But when the entire wedding party gets food poisoning from eating bad shellfish, the only people who aren’t affected are Olive and Ethan. And now there’s an all-expenses-paid honeymoon in Hawaii up for grabs. Putting their mutual hatred aside for the sake of a free vacation, Olive and Ethan head for paradise, determined to avoid each other at all costs. But when Olive runs into her future boss, the little white lie she tells him is suddenly at risk to become a whole lot bigger. She and Ethan now have to pretend to be loving newlyweds, and her luck seems worse than ever. But the weird thing is that she doesn’t mind playing pretend. In fact, she feels kind of… lucky.”

While Josh and Hazel’s Guide to Not Dating may be my favorite Christina Lauren book, this one is pretty close. Enemies-to-lovers, fake datings, and basically every other classic trope everyone loves found their way into this extremely fun read.

WELL MET BY JEN DELUCA

Page Count: 336 Publisher: Berkley Release Date: September 3rd, 2019 Purchase Options: Amazon, Indiebound, Barnes and Noble [ Click Here For My Review Teaser ]

“Emily knew there would be strings attached when she relocated to the small town of Willow Creek, Maryland, for the summer to help her sister recover from an accident, but who could anticipate getting roped into volunteering for the local Renaissance Faire alongside her teenaged niece? Or that the irritating and inscrutable schoolteacher in charge of the volunteers would be so annoying that she finds it impossible to stop thinking about him? The faire is Simon’s family legacy and from the start he makes clear he doesn’t have time for Emily’s lighthearted approach to life, her oddball Shakespeare conspiracy theories, or her endless suggestions for new acts to shake things up. Yet on the faire grounds he becomes a different person, flirting freely with Emily when she’s in her revealing wench’s costume. But is this attraction real, or just part of the characters they’re portraying? This summer was only ever supposed to be a pit stop on the way to somewhere else for Emily, but soon she can’t seem to shake the fantasy of establishing something more with Simon, or a permanent home of her own in Willow Creek.”

Okay, I know this one won’t be published until summer is over, but I need to mention it. It’s absolutely amazing! Seriously, it’s completely worth the wait. The relationship is so perfect, the characters are all amazing, and it takes place at a Ren Faire!!! What more could you ask for?

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What is your favorite summer romance? I really need some good recommendations!!

[thebestplltheories]

PLL The Perfectionists - 1x01 Pilot LIVE REACTION

WE ARE BACK!!!!

Ok I’m gonna do what I was doing for PLL where I react as I watch. But before I copy and paste the live reaction, I want to give my quick overview. That was by far a 10/10. That achieved everything a pilot should achieve. It introduced us to the characters, each of their stories, and the relationships each character has with one another. It set the overall tone, that this is a murder mystery with twists and turns to come. It established what the show is about. And it had occasional small shocks (I say small because there’s only so much that can be shocking in a pilot when everything is brand new). This was exponentially darker than the PLL pilot and for that I’m so grateful. We are cutting the high school airy-fairy (is that word used outside of Australia?) drama and going straight to scandals and a murder. I’m scared to see the ratings tomorrow because I want it to do well but hey it was trending worldwide on Twitter so that’s a good sign!? The show looks SO promising. I think I’m already in love with the cast. I just want to know more about everything and everyone and omg we are back!

LIVE THOUGHTS:

Love this intro! It sets the scene very well about the whole theme of perfectionism.

WAIT IS DYLAN PLAYING POKERFACE BY LADY GAGA HAHAHAHAHA

Okay sorry but that song ain’t it (“two can keep a secret if one of them is dead”). Why does it sound like an auto tuned choir? I’m happy for change. I actually don’t want the exact same version as the original series. But this one ain’t it. Is it too late to change it???

Wait, why is Alison walking around her new apartment like she’s walking around Jenna’s school for the blind in 710? If she lived 2 years of happiness and freedom of A, there’s no need to be so sceptical of danger every time you walk into a room. Anyway, doesn’t really matter.

Just the backing music throughout the scene is very PLL-esque! Yes, there is such thing as PLL backing music. And this is it.

Mona making a grand entrance!

I feel like Ali’s reaction to seeing Mona was a bit... underwhelming? If they haven’t seen each other in 2 years I expected a bit more of an “OMG”, and a “how did you get in my apartment”, etc. But they go straight to the point and cut the fluff so I don’t mind overall.

Mona recruited Ali. I knew it. And she works at BHU, we already knew that.

Emison is having trust issues. But she wants to do this for the kids. Ok I expected more detail there to satisfy the Emison shippers but whatever, I won’t cry at night.

Ok so Mary and Alex escaped Mona’s “dungeon”. That’s fine by me. Maybe that’ll be the storyline for a PLL movie later, who knows. It’s quite a vague answer but what did we expect... Mona to ADMIT to Ali that she captured her aunt? No. Mona could never explicitly say to Ali what she did. Hence the subtle pause before “... escaped me”. Only us the audience know the true meaning of that and I love how subtle yet meaningful it is.

Why do I feel like this security system is gonna play a massive toll throughout the entire series?

Loved the little Easter egg of seeing Mona, and Mona in the mirror (2 Mona’s). A subtle symbol/reference to her split personality in PLL.

I LOVED the scene of Ali teaching in the classroom! I got How To Get Away With Murder vibes...

Remember when we all thought Taylor’s death would be the main death of the show because of that memorial with her name on it... lol. Okay I’m calling it now... come back to this in the apparently mind blowing season 1 finale... Taylor isn’t really dead WE HAVENT TECHNICALLY SEEN A BODY

Love the complicated friendships going on between Dylan, Nolan, Ava, Caitlin! There’s a lot going on about faking being friends and faking tasks to uphold the image of being perfect. I love this theme and I feel like it’s super relevant to today’s world. Like especially social media. Everyone’s instagrams are always filled of their highs. And they’re mostly edited. No one ever posts/shares their low moments.

So no one knows of Ali’s past. Hmmm. We’ve had this discussion before, I don’t think it’s realistic that no one knows the name Alison DiLaurentis - surely that was on national news when “dead girl isn’t dead anymore” made headlines. But anyway. If they wanna pretend no one watches the news, it wouldn’t be the most unrealistic thing PLL has done.

Is Dylan the gay male character Marlene said she was going to introduce in PLL season 5B? Lmao about time.

WOW that flashback of Caitlin and Nolan just gave me PLL season 1 Alison flashback vibes! Nolan plays the bad manipulative guy so well just like Ali played the bully so well in flashbacks!

Two moms don’t make a right hahahaha who wrote that

Sofia looks FLAWLESS in the pool scene OH MY GODDD. AND her voice is so soothing what the hell

Love how the first scene of Nolan’s mother shows her standing on top of the staircase and the camera panning up. Great directing there. Showing she’ll be like a supreme leader. And then the camera being over her shoulders looking down on Nolan. Again great camera work which conveys the message that she is the boss of this town. I think she’ll be our new Jessica DiLaurentis lol

“I’d like some time for myself” ... “to do what?” OUCH why is that so iconic

Eli is... doing great. He comes across very confident. A star in the making?

Love the cinematography period. And Portland is beautiful!! Better than the Warner Bros lot.

Omg Nolan’s mother gathering “attractive” people for her photo op. Lol, they really are big on presenting a perfect image.

“You saw somebody else” NO CAITLIN, ALISON SAW YOU wow these kids will adamantly lie to uphold perfectionism. I keep saying that but I just love this theme!!!

“I know a little bit about manipulation” hahahahaha Ali

Omg Ali is so good at learning their lies. Of course she is, she’s had years of practice

The woods, Nolan? Nothing good ever happens in the woods.

Lol when Nolan tells Dylan to “kiss me” and Dylan actually contemplates it (and does it). That’s the type of power Nolan has over people.

I love how Ali is trying to help them! I can see a bond eventually forming here.

This scene where Nolan cheats on Ava isn’t shocking since they unfortunately shared it in the promos but hey a douche is a douche.

WHAT THE FUCKITY FUCKING FUCK IT’S TAYLOR WHAT DID I JUST SAY ABOVE

OK I KNOW I GUESSED ALEX DRAKE BUT THIS IS A NEW RECORD FOR FASTEST THEORY TO COME TRUE

Well it wasn’t really a theory I was just joking that she’s not really dead because we didn’t see a body but still do I get a point? Lmao

Nonetheless that shocked me! I love that they’re trying to take down their own family, that’s so dark and it’s only episode 1!

Yes Alison is already getting suspicious. Solve this one please Ali

Sorry I put my phone down during that scene in the woods. I just knew it would be juicy and I wanted to immerse in it properly. I frickin adore this scene. It’s creepy in tone, set in the woods like classic PLL, they’re referring to Ali like a friend and my PLL heart is content, and this is the first time they’re all bonding over one thing: wanting Nolan dead. This is probably my favourite scene in the whole episode.

So I’m guessing the vibes are that they were being recorded in the woods about how they want Nolan to be killed? But didn’t Nolan turn off the security?

Mona gets in her car and chucks a big bag in the back seat. Where was she and what was in the baggggg

Ok that was a bit dramatic Ali (“why am I really here”)

Lol I had to rewatch that for a sec. I thought Ali said “and his dead sister who I just saw pick him up” and I was like wait what Ali knows Taylor’s alive??? No, “dead sister who I just saw a picture of”.

OH MY GOD WHAT A MISSED OPPORTUNITY!!!! THAT SCENE WHERE THE 3 OF THEM ARE WALKING AWAY FROM EACH OTHER... NOLAN’S BODY SHOULD’VE FALLEN TO THE GROUND IN THE MIDDLE OF THEM RIGHT THERE! That would’ve been iconic. Like “oh well we were just kidding about all that, good night xx” then nope bam dead body. But I guess he had to die with poles through his chest as Caitlin said.

Oh Marlene. That’s a LOT of dialogue for a death scene. I hope you can back up and explain what Nolan is talking about before he died. Don’t you dare tell me that was an interpretative dream. Again that’s a lot of dialogue for a death scene. You better know who that killer is Marlene! Don’t make it up the day you write the finale!

I don’t like how we didn’t see Nolan ACTUALLY be killed. They play it safe because they don’t want to show us the killer in action. they basically copied the format of Mona’s “death”. Just change the scene to a flashing ambulance with a lame transition lol.

Another missed opportunity. Mona should’ve said to Ali “they found a body”! That would’ve been iconic in every way possible. First it was Ali’s body now Ali is finding a body and hearing the news and ugh oh well

My god that’s a violent death. And pretty early in the series for a Noel-Khan-level death. Too bad the photos leaked online and we knew that Nolan would not only die, but die like THAT. Those extras/fillers on set really should get charged for having their phones on them and leaking shit. Isn’t there copyright laws or something???? idk

Ummmmmm what? What kind of sci-fi, dollhouse level bullshit is that? That’s kinda over the top. Ehhhh. We’ll see where that goes.

My brain right now instantly got to thinking if Nolan’s murderer will be the “A” of the series or if the killer will just be the main mystery for season 1? Is “who killed Nolan” going to be the overarching story of the entire show or will they answer that sooner rather than later and then start a new mystery? I wonder what the format of this show will be. That’s where my mind is right now as the credits play.

[tysonrunningfox]

Ripped: Part 14

Sorry this took forever, I was super blocked and had to go hike so much and then it just kind of all burst forth in the last couple days...but you’re all going to hate me...sorry (I’m not but...)

AO3

“That guy over there,” Heather appears over Hiccup’s shoulder at the Ripped Tavern bar, sliding a frothy glass of something his direction, “ordered an IPA and then upon delivery, told me he was really glad we had something that wasn’t hoppy.  Do you want it?”  

“What do you want Heather?” Hiccup doesn’t look at her or the glass, tipping the brim of his top hat forward to block the glare of the street light through the bar’s front window.  

“I’m trying to offer you something free—“

“I’m good.”  Hiccup is glad to be honest, after the last week of the largest tours he’s ever given.  The seven o’clock is averaging over thirty, nine isn’t much slower at twenty-seven, and there was that landmark eleven o’clock with fifteen people hanging onto his every whisper, miraculously leaving more fulfilled from the truth instead of wild extrapolation.  

It doesn’t hurt that sometimes Astrid leaves the curtains open and shouts down help, a glovebox flashlight pointing at the Al. I safe message in a blurry way that means he should buy her a laser pointer with the reassuring stack of cash in his pocket.  

“How have things been?” Heather presses onward, elbows on the bar, her pale, stressed face appearing at the edge of his vision.  He remembers that expression from the weeks after their Johann discovery, her expression pulled tight like keeping a secret and potentially losing status because of it was physically poisonous to her.

“Since you started expertly advising the police and I took even more of your business?”  Hiccup snorts and takes the beer, trying to keep a straight face through a gulp of the bitter fizz, “pretty good, you?”  

“I’m glad business is booming,” she manages half a wan smile and Hiccup finally turns to her, face hard.  

“What do you want?”  He gestures at the promotions board advertising a ‘six-victim’ value pack of sliders to-go to take on tours, “obviously being nice to me isn’t going to get you anywhere.”  

“I wasn’t being nice,” she hisses, purely tired now, worry creeping in at the edges, “I was trying to bribe you.”  

“That won’t work either.” It’s not profiteering if he’s toning down the sensationalism.  He repeats the sentiment like a mantra and turns in his stool to face her.  “If you’re trying to ask a favor, admit it and say please.”  

“We both know it’s not a favor for you to overanalyze something,” she rolls her eyes, fragile and more dangerous for it, and he can’t help but remember when that danger was fun.  When it meant discovery instead of police involvement.  

He doesn’t think she gained much from sharing secrets, but they aren’t close enough anymore for him to say it.

“It’s kind of my ground state of existence, but you know the saying, never give away your talents for free.” He takes another gulp of the skunky beer and waits.  

It doesn’t take long.  

“Did you read the note on the package that was shipped to Snotlout?”  Her voice is quiet enough that he’d have to lean in to hear her clearly, but he doesn’t, shrugging a shoulder she can obviously tell his tense.

“Did you know that being deeply disturbed by someone opening a package to find a disembodied foot from a recent murder victim can actually affect your reading comprehension?”  

“Hiccup—“

“No, really, I’m eagerly awaiting the results of the study, I’m hoping they can explain some other things. Like a bonus diagnostic evaluation of whatever’s going on up there—“

“Do you want to see it?”  

It takes Hiccup a moment to compose his face.  

He knows how he does feel, how he should feel, and what he should show and they all fight with facial muscles that haven’t quite learned not to trust her yet.  

He’s spent hours on that note. He’s used to missing part of the story, but usually the lacking bits are a hundred plus years old, and not likely possessed by his ex-best friend, the supposed expert on them.  He’s frustrated and close and part of him wants to ask Heather as much as she obviously wants to ask him.  

If he hadn’t seen it or had the presence of mind to take a picture of it, he’d be near frothing at the mouth for a chance.  She doesn’t even have to convince him of the Grimborn connection, it’s in the open now, not only on the police radar but contributing to the bearing of the investigation.  Plus, his connection to the victims would—does—make him thrilled for a chance to exonerate himself.  

But he’d have to keep that secret from her, to make her pry it out of him, even though if she succeeded he’d only look guiltier.  As it stands, it’s best not to let her try.  

“I think it looks better for my case if I haven’t, don’t you?”  He sips the beer again, practicing his straight face around a mouthful he can’t quite taste through the soured friendship in the air.  “Plus, you’re the police expert.”  

“Come on, you can’t tell me you’re hung up on the expert thing, are you?”  She laughs and it’s fake, the way she used to laugh at Snotlout’s stories he’s told a thousand times when she wanted him to move on.  “It’s not like they could hire you, it’d look like nepotism.”  

She avoids the conflict of interest when it suits her.  

“Snotlout isn’t actually my domestic partner, you know that.”  

Heather purses her lips and sighs, scratching her head and taking too long to tuck hair behind her ear. Classic Berserker pre-politeness behavior.  

“Ok, I’m…stumped.  Is there any way you could look at it with me.” She reads his unflinching face and gets even smaller, “for me.”

Hiccup purposefully slurps the beer as loud as he can and the woman sitting next to him shifts one bar stool down.  

“Please,” Heather grits between her teeth and Hiccup stands up.

“I’ve actually got a nine o’clock tour to amass right now, and I’m pretty booked up for the next…forever ensuring that nothing impacts the way I perceive un-sensationalized truths,” he talks at her like she’s a stubborn tourist asking again and again about murders a century too recent to be ready for curiosity to be welcome amidst their tragedy.  “But maybe after that sometime.  Have Dagur put this on my tab,” he slides the half a beer back towards her.  

“You don’t have a tab,” Heather sighs, miserably at the same time as Dagur calls out from the other end of the bar.  

“Got it, Brother!”  

Hiccup waves in thanks and turns away from the bar, adjusting his messenger bag over his shoulder.  There’s a small group starting to mill around his usual table and he can’t help but note their glove-less hands and lament clammy fingers on his still un-laminated copy of the Al. I safe picture.  He hasn’t had time to go back by the archives, what with trying to analyze the foot-note and three frankly exhausting tours a night.  

When he first spots blonde out of the corner of his eye, he assumes it’s the fact that thinking about the archives and the picture naturally makes him think of Astrid, but a double take finds Ruffnut leaning on her elbows across the table.  He only has a few minutes before gathering his next tour group, but he heads that way anyway, not so subtly hoping that Heather is watching.  

Snotlout’s wrong, Heather was never anything more than his friend and research partner, but that doesn’t mean he can’t not so quietly announce that he can make more friends whenever he feels like it.  

“Hey guys,” he slides into the chair between them at the table for four, folding his hands in front of him, “what’s up?”  

They’re both absolutely silent for a moment until Ruffnut waves, eyebrows raised.  

“Hi,” Astrid’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet, “I thought—I mean, don’t you have a tour?”  

He checks the time, “in a couple minutes, I’ve got time to say hi though.”  

Astrid’s smile is tight lipped and embarrassed, but earnest, and he frowns.  

“Is everything ok?”  

“Not really,” Ruffnut cuts in, leaning her pointy chin on her palm and narrowing dangerous eyes.  

“Oh?”  Hiccup’s hand itches to reach for Astrid’s knee under the table but he’s utterly unsure whether that’s allowed and he keeps his fingers folded tight together.  

“My toilet’s leaking,” Ruffnut’s grin spreads slowly, “I heard if you fix it for me though, there’s a bonus ass show.”  

Hiccup’s face freezes, undoubtedly turning blue as his blood runs cold.  

“You guys are talking about the other night,” he swallows, glancing wide-eyed at Astrid, whose blush is extending under her bangs.  “And I interrupted.”  

“It’s fine—“  Astrid puts her nervous hand on his and he feels stupid all over again.  

He doesn’t know how to explain that she’s not something that happens to him often.  How he doesn’t even want to hope because this all seems so impossible, in flux with so much awful and so outside his luck and circumstance that he doesn’t know what to do about it.  And how he wants to do everything about it but not in the same shirt he had on when he was at the police station to explain his involvement with a murder victim’s severed foot.  

“Yeah, it’s just that Astrid isn’t really used to rejection,” Ruffnut waves casually, “I mean look at her.”

Hiccup swallows hard, “I have.”

“It’s fine—”  Astrid placates, glaring at Ruffnut, who’s still grinning like she just set off a firework she’s been looking forward to for months.  

“No, it’s not—It wasn’t a rejection, I just smelled like police station and probably dead foot—”

“It was a rough day, I get it—”

“And I meant it when I said I’d be kicking myself, I have been, with both feet—”

“You really don’t have to,” she glares at Ruffnut, but it has little to no impact, “I’m sorry you had to witness me learning my lesson about telling Ruffnut anything at all, ever.”  

“Don’t apologize—”  Hiccup holds his hands up in surrender or to hide his bright red face.  There’s no way it looks as cute as the flush across the bridge of Astrid’s nose.  He’s definitely sweating under the hat and lamenting Berk’s Victorian Era Craftsmen’s obsession with wool.  

“Like you’ll ever stop telling me things,” Ruffnut shakes her head, “who else can you go to for excellent advice?”  

“Literally anyone else,” Astrid snaps, eyes darting back and forth between Hiccup and the person she until recently called her friend.  

“Do you want to know the advice?” Ruffnut raises an eyebrow, evil grin widening.  

“Ruffnut,” Astrid growls and there’s something cornered about it that piques Hiccup’s curiosity even through his deep and abiding embarrassment.  “Do not—”

“I’m talking to Hiccup.” She rolls her eyes, “so do you want to hear the advice?”  

“Excuse me,” someone taps on Hiccup’s shoulder and he whirls around to see a woman wearing a freshly bought, still wrinkled Grimborn shirt like the ones hanging from the rafters, “are you in charge of the walk-on nine o’clock Viggo Grimborn tour?”  

“Yes, I’ll be over there in just a minute—”

“The website said the tour meets at nine o’clock and it’s three minutes after,” the woman taps her watch and Hiccup sighs.  

“Just give me a minute—”

“You know I was so disappointed when I saw Berserker tours booked out two months, they have all the best reviews, but I found your tour rated almost as well on Trip Advisor and thought I’d take a shot,” she purses her lips like the kind of person who reads tabloids to judge the caliber of the journalism, “no one said anything about tardiness—”

“It’s fine, Hiccup,” Astrid pats his knee under the table, fingers light and fleeting but present enough to send a thrill up his spine, even through the embarrassment and irritation at the interruption.  

“Are you giving The Real Viggo Grimborn tour?”  An older teenage boy appears on Hiccup’s other side, pointing at Hiccup’s website on his phone.  “It said on the website you’d be in ‘period wear’, is that what the hat is?  Is the tour just about the old murders or are you going to talk about the new ones too?”  

“Go,” Astrid sighs, “your audience awaits.”  

“They can await another minute,” Hiccup glares at the first woman who starts reading aloud as she types an unflattering review.  

“I know Berserker tours is talking about the new murders,” a second boy nudges his friend and looks at Heather admiringly, “we could still see if we could get on their tour tomorrow.”

“They’re booked out for months,” the first boy shoves his phone closer to Hiccup’s face, “this is you, right?”

“Fine!” Hiccup stands up and Astrid’s hand falling away from his leg leaving a cold spot even through the too thick material of his old coat, “the nine o’clock Grimborn tour is leaving now, if you want to be on it, come give me money on the way out the side door.”

“Review update pending tour conclusion,” the woman says imperiously as she puts her phone away and Hiccup allows himself one last glance at Astrid as he puts his tour guide persona into place.  

She’s not looking at him and it serves as a timely reminder that even deserved rejection stings.  

It’s Hiccup’s biggest tour group ever and he talks faster because of it, dodging questions about recent murder victims and trying to lure the group back in time with his most scandalous Grimborn era stories.  

Sometimes reversing a bad review on Trip Advisor means staring someone his mother’s age in the face and explaining an example pay scale of a Victorian Berkian prostitute by sex act, and at some point, he became ok with that.  

“And now, if you aren’t already glad for The Real Grimborn Tour’s full dark, nine o’clock tour option that is not offered by Berserker tours,” he whispers reverently in front of the wall outside of Astrid’s apartment, “you will be now, as I have the only picture of a message accepted by experts to have been written by the one and only Viggo Grimborn, on this very well.”  

“Are you talking about the ‘All Safe’ message?”  A man in the back asks too loud and Hiccup waits a beat for Astrid to announce herself and correct him.  

She doesn’t.  

Hiccup knows she’s probably still out with Ruffnut, likely discussing one of the most spastically regrettable moments of his life, but her pulled shut curtains still tug crooked at his chest, like a possibility falling off of a ledge in slow motion.  

“Wasn’t that erased by rain?” Another man asks, thankfully on topic, and Hiccup digs through his bag for the picture.  

“Not before a lucky photographer with the Berk Enquirer got a shot of it,” he hands it to the front row, who mostly pass it on without looking, whispering to each other about future murders in excited voices Hiccup pretends not to hear, “it was recently found by a friend who was generous enough to make me a copy of it.  I’ll let you look at it on the way to site two, if you’ll follow me…”

Her windows are closed for the eleven o’clock too.  They usually are, but Hiccup reads more into it than he should, pausing a little too long and explaining the layout of the building a hundred years ago to a crowd more scared of shadows flickering in real time than ghosts.  

Hiccup used to come home from tours energized, ready to do his own research or explore the city without a following, but the last week has been beyond draining.  Almost desk job level, he’d guess, and he deflates as soon as he makes it through the front door, tossing his hat at its hook and missing.  

He could leave it on the floor. It’s not like there’s anything inherently damaging to a hat about being on the floor and bending over to pick it up sounds like a lot of work.  

The pull chain of the lamp startles him and he jumps at the light flashing on to reveal Snotlout, shirtless in his dad’s chair, features thrown into ominous shadow by the angled light.

“Fuck,” Hiccup claps his hand over his heart, “I get that you’re saving power by leaving the overhead light off, but the dramatic lamp pull is a little over the top, don’t you think?”  

“I talked to Ruffnut,” Snotlout says calmly, a few shades off of his cop voice, and Hiccup frowns as he hangs up his jacket.  

“Oh yeah?  How’s that going?”  He doesn’t mention that he also talked to Ruffnut, as he’s had a long enough day as is, even without being reminded that he didn’t get a chance to hear her advice.  

“Can you tell me about the events of last Saturday?”  Snotlout leans forward, elbows on his knees, and Hiccup recognizes his interrogation stance number three from the time he had Hiccup asses which out of five interrogation stances was the most intimidating.  

Three won.  

“You mean the time you had a foot mailed to you?”  Hiccup bites his tongue against adding the whole part about his suspicions that some crazy is trying to frame Snotlout.  It’s like the note, the less they know, the safer they are.  “What part do you need a refresher on?”  

“The part where after you borrowed money from me, you went and bought curtains, which you then installed at Astrid’s apartment,” Snotlout smacks his hands on his knees in a less threatening rendition of Detective Eretson’s display of strength.  Although maybe the lack of threat can be attributed to his Batman pajama pants.  “Where my sources tell me that you made out with her and she invited you to her bedroom, but you declined the offer.  Does any of that sound familiar to you?”  

Hiccup judges the distance to his bedroom door.  Usually, he can make it before Snotlout tackles him, but the abrupt restarting of tours along with avoiding his usual shortcuts has left his back creaky and vulnerable.  A tackle isn’t worth risking.  

“By your source, you mean Ruffnut?”  

“I’m asking the questions here, Hiccup,” Snotlout points at the couch, “why don’t you have a seat?”  

“Have you been working on your Eretson impression?”  Hiccup perches on the edge of the couch, avoiding eye contact.  “It’s not bad—”

“First of all, he’s been working on his me impression, and it’s awful.  Second, what the fuck are you doing trying to mess it up with Astrid on purpose?”  

“I’m not,” Hiccup shakes his head, “that’s—”

“You know you’ve hung out with some real duds, right?  There was the girl you met at the homeless shelter who kept on arguing with me about police brutality at like seven in the morning.  There was Heather, there was that month you kept bringing home girls from tours until—”

“Let’s not talk about that right now,” Hiccup runs his hand through his hair and swears he can smell the anxiety pouring off of him, “and stop with the Heather thing.  And Olivia worked at a homeless shelter, she saw a different side of the force than you do—”

“No, you aren’t derailing this conversation.  You know I got Raymond fired for that shit last year, and Astrid is really fucking hot. Like I don’t know why she’s talking to you hot.  Plus she’s a fucking nerd, but I can still talk to her, and she’s Ruffnut’s friend. You aren’t just messing this up for yourself, you’re messing it up for both of us.”  Snotlout points a stern finger at him, “so before you fuck it up entirely, tell me honestly what the hell was going through your head when you decided not to sleep with her.”  

“Well,” Hiccup tugs at his collar, staring down at his shoes, “I’m sure you’ll understand this, we woke up a little after four that day and I was at her house around eleven, so if I’d gone to sleep then it would have been equivalent to someone with a daytime schedule going to sleep at around four or five.  And given I was on the cusp of restarting tours, that would have really messed with my sleep schedule—ouch!”  

Snotlout’s phone bounces off of Hiccup’s forehead and lands on the floor.  

“Cut the shit, Haddock.”  

“I can’t remember my thought process,” Hiccup glares, rubbing his head, “not since some officer brutally knocked it out of me—”

“You had a date with her, which means you obviously like her and how could you not because I swear dude, the hottest nerd I’ve ever—”

“Yes, she’s really hot, I get it,” he stands up and starts pacing, hands folded behind his back where it pangs with every step, “I know, I rejected the hot—but it’s more than that, she’s so—she’s determined and adorable and smart—so fucking smart, I can’t slip anything by her and—”

“You’re practically puking heart emojis right now,” Snotlout shakes his head, “And you know what?  She sounded really fucking worried about you when Grisly came by her work and she went on your creepy private tour when she barely even knew you—”

“I know!”  Hiccup yanks at his hair, “I know all of that, I don’t—”

“And then after the creepiest fucking day, she made out with you and invited you back to her bedroom and you said no,” Snotlout folds his hands over his knee, poised to put the clues together in a neat package and deliver his final verdict, “which means that you chose to keep thinking about a murder victim’s feet instead of seeing Astrid naked.”

“I don’t think I’d summarize it quite like that,” Hiccup stares hard at Snotlout to avoid thinking of either in the same moment.  

“Well, I would, because it leads pretty neatly to two possible solutions,” he numbers on his fingers, “one, you’re a creepier fucker than I ever imagined—”

“Hey!”  

“Or two, you’re out of your league here and need my help.  And if it’s two, and I hope it’s two because I hate apartment shopping—”

“You’ve never lived anywhere but your parents’ house or here—”

“Because I hate apartment shopping so much,” Snotlout rolls his eyes, “duh.  Anyway, I think you should give me your phone so I can text her and fix this.”  

“No,” Hiccup checks his pocket to make sure his phone is still there and that it hasn’t magically poofed into Snotlout’s pocket.  “I know those odds.”  

“Yes, you know that four out of the five times you let me text girls for you, you got laid.”  Snotlout holds his hand out, “and she already wanted to bang you, so this one will be easy.”  

“And the fifth time I got punched in the face,” Hiccup rubs his cheek at the memory, “I’m not letting you—it’s too important, ok?  She’s too important.  I already like her too much, that’s—it’s not just some girl I swiped right on or met at Gruff’s, it’s…she’s too important for police station grime and—”

“I’m sure she has a shower,” he scoffs.  

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s the way to Astrid’s heart,” Hiccup gesticulates, “I should have just asked to take a shower to wash off the eau de dead guy foot—”

“Oh my god!”  Snotlout jumps up, jabbing a finger too hard into Hiccup’s chest and refusing to remove it even when Hiccup smacks his hand. “You’re doing it again.”  

“Doing what again?”  

“That thing where one bad thing happens so no good things can happen ever,” he shouts, throwing his arms up, and Hiccup rubs his chest, checking for a permanent indent.

“I don’t do that.”  

“You do, you so do.” Snotlout picks his phone up and starts typing something, “any normal person gets mailed a dead foot and they make a booty call to clear their mind.  Not you, though, you turn down Astrid, the hottest girl who’s ever talked to you, in order to make your life all about creepy tours again—”

“You aren’t texting her, are you?” He tries to grab Snotlout’s phone but gets a shoulder to the chest for his effort.  

“No, I’m not, not that it’s any of your business,” he puts his phone in his pocket and shoves Hiccup’s shoulder a little harder than is probably explicitly necessary, “stop it, ok? Talk to her, apologize for being a spaz, tell her all that mushy shit you just told me and invite her to sit on your f—”

“Gah!”  Hiccup claps his hands over his ears and Snotlout pries them off again, smushing Hiccup’s cheeks so that he can’t talk.  

“When I let go, you’re going to say ‘yes, Snotlout, thanks for the genius advice, I’ll do exactly that’, ok?”

Hiccup nods to get his face back and rubs his jaw when Snotlout lets go, “you know I can’t take a lecture seriously when you’re shirtless.”  

“Too bad, my tan is setting,” he looks down at his chest, “now what were you going to say?”

He has gotten too far without being tackled to give up that streak now.  

“Thanks for the advice.”  

“Genius advice.”  

“Advice,” Hiccup pats him on the head, narrowly dodging having his arm twisted behind his back as he races to his dad’s old office and locks the door behind him.  Snotlout pounds on it a couple of times before giving up and the familiar sounds of setting up a video game drift through the thick wood.  

00000

Hiccup never used to drink before work.  It was a point of pride, a testament to taking tours and correct dispersal of Viggo Grimborn knowledge seriously.  

Well, that and he couldn’t afford Ripped Tavern prices for a while when he first went out on his own, but that’s neither here nor there because it became a principle thing.  

And like all principles, it had its crumbling point, which was apparently the day after Snotlout’s lecture when he woke up to fifteen questions about the copycat killer and one bland apology text from Astrid with a period at the end.  

Snotlout suggested breakfast happy hour at Gruff’s, given that it’s his day off, and Hiccup was stunned enough at the invitation in the wake of his head-patting that he went along without much fuss.  The bar is packed when they get there and Gruffnut makes sure to flip off Snotlout before disappearing into the back room.  

“Remember how good the service used to be before he knew what your job was?” Hiccup starts to sit at a barstool but Snotlout grabs his elbow, pulling him over to a dirty table by the wall and swiping balled-up napkins onto the floor.  “Why the table?”  

“I want wings.”  

“Last time you got wings I had to use the bathroom at the sandwich shop across the street because you wouldn’t leave the toilet,” Hiccup snorts, ignoring Snotlout’s glare.  

“That was one time.”  

“Well, it was twice because it happened over a period of like five hours but—”

Snotlout kicks him hard under the table at the same time as he waves at the door, “over here!”  

“Who?”  Hiccup’s question dies in his throat when he looks over his shoulder and sees Astrid, reluctant and stumbling after Ruffnut, who has an irrefutable grip on her arm.  “You invited them?”  

“I invited Ruffnut, who said she was already hanging out with Astrid today, so I said it’d just have to be your lucky day,” Snotlout scoots further into the booth to make room for Ruffnut to plop next to him.  “We haven’t ordered yet, Gruff is taking forever.”  

“Sounds like him,” Ruffnut scoffs.

Astrid hesitates a second before sitting down, but when she does she turns towards him halfway, her knee bumping his, “for the record, I was not in on this setup.”  

“I couldn’t tell from the way you were enthusiastically kicking and screaming to get away from Ruffnut.” Hiccup tries to let himself smile, shoving Snotlout’s advice far to the back of his mind.  They were doing fine, he was doing fine.  She likes him.  

Or liked.  Maybe he messed that up.  

No, not the time to think about that.  He’s never been good at playing dumb but he’s getting enough practice lately that maybe he’s due for some forward strides.  

“That’s why I made sure to verbally confirm,” she scoots a little closer when someone walking by jostles her shoulder and her leg is warm against his, “not in on the plan.  I was personally waiting for frozen yogurt.”  

“Shit, I meant to text you to reschedule that,” Hiccup scratches the back of his neck, “I’ve just—”

“Been busy,” she flushes slightly, “I could see that yesterday.”  

Yesterday, at the Ripped Tavern, where she was telling Ruffnut all about how he rejected her.  That yesterday.  Of course.  

“Tours are booming,” he laughs, gesturing in the vague direction of the second murder site and trying not to think of the fact he gets more and more nervous every time he approaches it. “But that shouldn’t get in the way of getting some vaguely sour and crappy excuse for ice cream with you.”  

“Where the hell is Gruff?” Snotlout huffs.  

“I’ll go look for him,” Ruffnut stands up, “he’s probably smoking out back or something else useless.”  

“Do you want me to come with you?” Astrid offers but Snotlout stands up first.  

“I’ve got it, you two just…talk,” he looks significantly at Hiccup like the exact opposite of an anxious father chaperoning prom before following Ruffnut towards the back door.  

“Subtle,” Hiccup grumbles, wishing he had something to do with his hands as Astrid fidgets, biting her lip in the growing awkward silence.  

“I’ve been thinking,” she says in a low voice, a cautious voice, and Hiccup nods, waiting for the bomb to drop. “That note you showed me, there’s something—”

“Wait, you mean…” He leans in a little closer, dropping his voice, “you’re talking about the um…murder foot note, right?”  

“The ‘all right’ at the beginning, I think it’s about D—the second victim,” she tries to stay neutral, but her voice wavers and Hiccup sets an arm over her shoulders, comfortable like it’s more than just the start of a habit, “he was missing his left leg, right? Like you?”  

She brings his foot up casually, curious but not in the way that makes him cringe and he nods slowly.  

“Yeah, that’s why I could give him my old one.”  

“That’s why it’s misspelled, or it’s not misspelled, it’s a description.  Which makes me wonder if a hint about the next victim is in the message,” she’s not excited at the prospect, it’s quieter than that, like she knows she’s brilliant and is hoping he’ll keep up with her.  “What do you think?”  

“I think that I can’t believe you want to talk about that morbid note with me.”  He doesn’t have anything smarter to say as his hand curls easily around her upper arm.  

“Well, I don’t know who else I’d talk about it with,” she backhands him on the stomach, obviously meaning to be gentle but thudding hard anyway, “plus, I told you, I like talking about…this stuff with you.”  

She avoids Grimborn because it isn’t, it’s modern and ongoing and in the way of all the ways he wants to appreciate her right now.  

“You’re…impossible,” he shakes his head, exhaling carefully like too much breeze could blur the lines of her improbable perfection.  

“Impossible,” she doesn’t quite ask and her expression falls, her back going rigid against his arm.  “You probably don’t want to talk about it.”  

“No, no, I—the good kind of impossible,” he nods, sincere, “I’m just not used to anyone taking an interest in this kind of thing, I guess, especially not after I was such a spaz the other night.”  

“You didn’t really give me a choice not to take an interest,” she softens slightly, “you’re pretty convincing when you put your mind to it.”  

“Convincing, huh?”  He laughs, “Snotlout’s word for it is usually creepy.  Or obsessive or annoying, depends on the day.”  

“Those too,” she teases, elbow against his side, “any luck?”  

“Hmm?”  He doesn’t realize he’s leaning closer until his nose is almost against her cheek and she’s clearly talking to Snotlout and Ruffnut, who are standing at the edge of the table.

“No sign of him,” Ruffnut shrugs, “you guys want to go somewhere else?”  

“With you two?”  Astrid raises an eyebrow and Hiccup still struggles to fathom the idea that she might want to be alone with him.  Again.  Even if it’s to look at the note more, that’s…amazing.  

No, impossible.  He used the right word to begin with.  

“Sure,” Snotlout points at the door, “let’s leave though, if I’m here any longer I’m going to have to start telling people that taking bottles over the bar is stealing, and I don’t want to help Gruff out like that.”  

“How long do you have before your tour?”  Astrid asks as she climbs out of the booth and Hiccup’s heart drops when he checks the time.  

“An hour.”  

“That’s enough time for frozen yogurt,” her nose wrinkles when she squints at the too bright street light when she follows Ruffnut outside and down the sidewalk.  “And we could talk…”  The note is implied and Hiccup shrugs too hard, nodding at the same time and enthusiastically risking the muscles in his neck because of it.  

“Yeah, sure, that’s—cool.”  

“Looks like you guys are planning something mushy,” Snotlout says pointedly, reminding Hiccup of his excellent advice at absolutely the wrong time. “We’ll just go back to the apartment.”

Ruffnut seems to agree to that, grinning and whispering something Hiccup doesn’t try to hear into Snotlout’s ear. He laughs and the sound echoes, the density of the alleys carrying it between old bricks like a secret, low tech game of telephone that turns happy sounds to groans that haunt empty corners.

“There’s a shortcut up ahead,” Hiccup gestures at the sign-less gate just ahead, remembering her moonlit suspicious face when she decided to trust him for the first time.  “You might recognize it.”  

“Recognize what?”  Ruffnut turns back to tell Astrid something and pauses, staring down the alley, her mouth slowly falling open.  

“What is it?”  Astrid asks, looking the same direction with a squint that gives way to wide eyes as she grabs Hiccup’s arm, grip tight like she’s holding herself up on him.  

It takes Hiccup a second to recognize what he sees.  A second more than it should, given that the sight should be triply familiar by now, not counting the photographs etched in his memory.  

Behind the condo, right where Catherine Whittaker’s body was found on a cold morning in eighteen eighty-three, there’s a mostly shadowed shape.  It’s a sprawling, nebulous shape, parts of it struggling to escape its gravitational field, strewn across the alley floor like satellite debris from a hundred failed launches.  

At the edge of it, the circle of the streetlight catches a handful of blonde dreadlocks, stained with red.  

“No!”  Ruffnut wails, tears flash flooding her cheeks as she launches herself at the gate.  “No! No, no, no!”  

“Shit,” Snotlout catches her, barely, struggling once again to keep his grip through her flailing, this time sobbing instead of yelling.  “Another fucking—who’s calling it in?”  

“I’ve got it,” Astrid says in a small voice, muttering under her breath as she dials three digits.  “It has to be Gruffnut, it has to be Gruffnut.”

[sceptilemasterr]

MW Act 1, Scene 6 - Analysis

Title: Most Wanted: The Hollywood Killer (A CIU Screenplay)

Main Pairings: Dave x Sam

Other Pairings: N/A

Genre: Full Rewrite

Rating: PG-13 for violence, blood, swearing, alcohol, and sexuality

Summary: While talking to the crime lab’s eccentric trio, Sam and Dave learn more about Tull... and each other.

Previous Scene: The Other Case

Masterlist: Link

INT. L.A.P.D. STATION - CRIME LAB - NIGHT

The crime lab is a scene best described as “organized chaos.” Pop music blares from a speaker sitting at the workstation of a man with short black hair, glasses, and a blue cardigan, spinning idly in his chair. This is NIKHIL MANTHA, forensic specialist. Opposite him at another workstation is a man with messy brown hair and a patterned sweater, gritting his teeth in annoyance as he stares at his computer screen; this is REZA FASSIHI, data analyst.

HAYLEY ROSE (ON SPEAKER) (singing): Sirens flickering in your tail lights, your long-lost love’s your only flaw...

REZA: Nikhil, can we please turn that off? This wasn’t a good song four years ago, and it’s still not good now!

NIKHIL: But that’s the point! Pop princess Hayley Rose experimenting with a contrived club album with a hokey country twist? “Outlaw” is incredible in its American awfulness.

REZA: How does that make any sense?!

As the music plays in the background while they continue, the third occupant of the room ignores their argument entirely. MIRASOL BAUTISTA, criminal profiler and psychoanalyst, sits at her own workstation, frowning at whatever she is reading on the screen. She wears a white blazer and has her dark hair tied back into a bun.

NIKHIL: ...it isn’t my fault your tastes are embarrassingly mainstream-

MIRASOL (muttering): The contrarian hipster act, clearly a false front meant to get on people’s nerves. Typically seen in those with low self-esteem and-

NIKHIL: Ouch. I heard that, Mirasol.

MIRASOL: Oh, I know.

The door swings open, and Sam and Dave enter. Sam blinks in surprise at the music. Dave doesn’t bat an eye as he strides up to Nikhil’s workstation and hits the power button.

DAVE (deadpan): Oops.

NIKHIL: Hey! Excuse me, Dave, we were listening to that-

REZA: Correction: you were listening to that.

NIKHIL: Mirasol secretly enjoyed it!

MIRASOL: Excuse me, what?! I will murder you, Nikhil.

REZA: She’s not kidding, Nikhil. You weren’t here for the time she brought a live grenade to work, but-

DAVE: Look, as entertaining as this conversation is, right now, we’ve got a killer to catch. And more importantly, we’ve got company.

Mirasol, Nikhil, and Reza all look up and notice Sam for the first time.

DAVE: This is Sam Massey, U.S. Marshal. Massey, meet the Three Stooges. That’s Reza, our data analyst and resident computer nerd.

REZA (frowning): “Nerd?” Excuse you, Dave, I’m a data analyst and digital security consultant and a moderator for the Crown and the Flame official fansite... Okay, I may be a ‘computer nerd.’

Sam nods, clearly not understanding most of what Reza is talking about.

SAM: ...Pleasure.

DAVE: Over there is Nikhil, forensic analyst and card-carrying hipster.

NIKHIL: Nice to meet you, Marshal. I have to say, this ‘thing’ you’re doing with your outfit? Talk about defying the mainstream L.A. look with your rough-and-tumble style. Such a middle finger to the masses.

Sam crosses her arms, frowning.

SAM: I’m not trying to do a “thing.”

NIKHIL: Exactly, right? Everyone else is always trying too hard. But you get it!

SAM: Uh...

Dave shakes his head in amusement before moving on.

DAVE: Anyway, the cheerful one over there is Dr. Bautista, our criminal profiler and psychoanalyst.

MIRASOL: Just call me Mirasol. These two clowns don’t go by fancy titles, why should I?

SAM: I can respect that.

DAVE: Right, well, that’s the introductions. So, what have you all got for us?

NIKHIL: Perfect timing, actually. I’ve just finished my initial run-through of the forensics. Don’t have much to work with, but I was able to analyze those bullet casings you found, plus the autopsies and ballistics.

SAM: Let’s hear what you’ve got. I’ve got a hunch I want confirmed.

They walk over to Nikhil’s workstation. Nikhil swivels in his chair to face them.

DAVE: How’s it look?

NIKHIL: The autopsy and ballistics reports indicate an abdominal wound from a sawed-off shotgun, fired from approximately three feet away. Casings confirm standard double-aught buckshot. (shakes head) Can’t have been pretty.

SAM: Point-blank, straight to the gut. Tull’s specialty, the sick bastard.

DAVE: Anything else?

NIKHIL: Well, I’ve got an educated guess on the type of shotgun he used. It’s hard to tell for sure, but from what we could get from the camera footage, I’d say an old-school Easton 850, sawed-off.

SAM: Wait. Did you say an Easton 850?

NIKHIL: Why, does that mean something to you?

Sam gets a faraway look in her eyes, staring at a point on the wall. She says nothing for a long moment. Finally, she shakes her head and turns away.

SAM: No. You just... don’t see those every day.

From her station, Mirasol watches Sam with a calculating look. Dave notices and walks over to her, Sam following.

DAVE: Dr. Bautista, what do we have?

MIRASOL: I’ve told you not to call me that.

DAVE (smirks): Why do you think I keep doing it?

Mirasol rolls her eyes and turns away from him, facing Sam.

MIRASOL: Beckham had your file sent over, Massey. Frequent physical altercations. Questionable use of force. Repeated altercations... fascinating stuff.

SAM: Alright, alright. Let’s cut to the chase. What have you got?

MIRASOL: Let’s see... Propensity for violence and hot-headedness, such as when you brought in a fugitive with multiple broken bones. Then the report of you telling a fugitive with hostages to, and I quote: “Grow a backbone, dirtbag.”

NIKHIL: Ooh, I want that on a shirt.

MIRASOL: And then there’s the raid on the New Flores Cartel, where the massive property damage perfectly showcases your flagrant disregard for-

SAM: Okay, okay, we get the idea! Lemme rephrase: what have you got on Tull?

MIRASOL: Oh, don’t worry. I’ve already put together his profile too, or at least a preliminary one from what little we know.

DAVE: Perfect. Let’s hear it.

MIRASOL: He’s a hired killer, but he’s brutal when he doesn’t need to be, even when it makes his job harder. Clearly enjoys inflicting pain. He’s clever but unstable, with textbook signs of egocentrism, obsessive behavior, and possible narcissism.

DAVE (sarcastically): This guy just gets better and better.

SAM: Anything else?

MIRASOL: Just that... look. I’m not easily disturbed; hell, I read the profiles of psychopaths for a living. Sometimes even for fun. But this guy... he scares me.

Sam nods in understanding.

SAM: Then we just gotta be scarier.

She turns away from Mirasol and heads over to Reza’s station, Dave following close behind. As she approaches, Reza springs awkwardly to his feet, accidentally knocking over his chair as he offers an excited handshake.

REZA: Wow, a Texas Marshal, surrounded by L.A. glitz and glamour! Love it! The fish-out-of-water thing is a classic trope in the industry, y’know.

Sam shakes his hand, looking puzzled.

SAM: The... data analysis industry?

REZA: What? No, the entertainment industry! I’m also an aspiring screenwriter, you know.

NIKHIL: Emphasis on the ‘aspiring’ part. He’s never actually finished a script.

REZA: Shut up, Nikhil! Anyway, my point is that I’m a bit of a film buff.

SAM: Huh. Sounds like that might come in handy in this town.

REZA: Yeah, I know, it’s not really... wait, what?

SAM: Hey, from what I’ve seen, Hollywood’s a special kind of crazy. Might help to have someone who speaks the language.

REZA: Ha! Boom! How’s that defeat taste, Nikhil? Someone actually appreciates me for once!

Nikhil groans and rolls his eyes as Reza picks his chair back up and sits down.

REZA: And speaking of ‘Hollywood’ and ‘crazy,’ by the way, I’ve pulled up some info on the main victim.

DAVE: Gavin? Could be a lead. But what about Tull?

REZA (frowning): Not much. From what I can tell, he surfaced suddenly about a year ago as a paid killer. Other than that, I could barely find anything.

SAM (frowning): What do you mean he ‘surfaced suddenly?’ Where the hell was he before that?

REZA: It’s the weirdest part of this whole thing. Far as I can tell, he emerged from thin air last year. His first kill happened in rural Montana, and before that... the guy just vanishes.

DAVE: Fake name, maybe?

REZA (shakes head): Nothing I can find. But I’ll keep looking. Gavin, on the other hand... with how much he’s posted about himself online, the guy practically did my job for me.

Reza swivels his monitor. Sam and Dave look at the screen, which is displaying a celebrity blog site titled “Dirty Hollywood.”

REZA: His personal blog is plenty already, but the real interesting part is this one. “Dirty Hollywood.” It’s a celeb gossip blog, and with the things he’s posted, he’s made quite a few enemies.

SAM: Could lead us to whoever hired Tull.

DAVE: Agreed. So, who’s on the list of Gavin’s potential enemies, then?

REZA: Honestly? Literally everyone he’s posted about. I can list all of them for you, but we’d be here all day-

DAVE: Give us the three most likely, then. Anything in the past week or so

REZA: Well, let’s see... he leaked some emails from screenwriter Josh Neely, exposing him as a plagiarist.

DAVE: Hold on. I spotted Neely on the tape, just before the murder. He was arguing pretty fiercely with Gavin!

Sam raises her eyebrows.

SAM: Damn. We’ve got our connection, then.

DAVE: Not so fast. Lots of celebrities were at that party, it doesn’t mean anything on its own. Reza, who else?

REZA: Gavin also posted evidence that Ryan Summers was making large, discreet payments to an unknown woman. Sure, Gavin never actually says she’s a call girl, but he sure as hell implies it.

DAVE: Huh. Ryan never mentioned that...

SAM: First-name basis with Ryan Summers? Really.

DAVE: Yeah, he’s a good friend of mine. We play poker on the weekends.

SAM: I’m not sure what’s harder to believe: that your poker face is that good, or that you’re actually telling the truth.

REZA: Anyway, the third suspect is pretty timely, considering Nikhil’s taste in music. Gavin leaked some of Hayley Rose’s, uh... illicit photos from her personal phone.

SAM: She’s the singer you were just listening to? How did Gavin get all this?

REZA: Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t legal.

Dave sighs, shaking his head in disgust.

DAVE: Typical. Thanks for the leads, though. Let us know if you can find any more on Tull, okay?

REZA: You got it.

Sam and Dave step toward the door, out of earshot of the analysts.

SAM: So what the hell does any of that tell us?

DAVE: I admit it’s not much to go on. What about the gun?

SAM: What about it?

DAVE: You seemed familiar with that specific model when Nikhil mentioned it. Do you know something?

SAM (muttering): Ugh. Of course. Goddamn detective.

Dave raises an eyebrow.

SAM: Nothing that would help the case. Look, Tull’s a killer for hire, right? So, first things first, we should look into the people he offended. Find out who hired him.

DAVE: That’s fair. It’s as good a place as any to start. Let’s go; I’ll drive.

SAM: Hope you drive fast. Every second we waste is another second Tull’s out there, a free man.

Sam heads for the door, but stops when she notices Dave hasn’t moved. He studies her, frowning.

SAM: ...What?

DAVE: Look. If we’re gonna be partners on this, I need you to level with me. Why are you really here?

SAM: It’s my job-

DAVE: Massey, I’m a detective. Half my job is knowing when someone’s lying. We do have Marshals in California, y’know. Something made you get on a plane and fly halfway across the country to nab Tull yourself. Something makes you look like you’re gonna punch a hole in the wall when you think about him.

Sam sighs in defeat.

SAM: Alright. Fine. It’s personal.

DAVE: There. Was that so hard?

SAM: Look. Tull killed someone close to me. I’d rather not say any more right now.

Dave nods and opens the door to head out of the lab.

DAVE: That’s fair. Listen, Massey: we’re gonna get this bastard. That much I can promise you.

SAM: Damn straight.

Next Scene: Good Cop, Bad Cop

CIU Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @endlesshero1122 @bbaba-yagaa @acidsugar0

MW Tag List: @griselda1121

[rk800hunter]

Dramatics (Sequel - Connor x Reader)

Summary: Jealous/Protective Connor being jealous over reader’s close friend

Pairing: Connor x Reader

A/N: This was demanded from me and I have provided xD Many of you asked for a sequel to Dramatics so here you are! I hope you all enjoyed this as you’ve enjoyed the first one. We are all suckers for protective/possessive/jealous Connor. Feedback is appreciated! I also want to thank you all for being so enthusiastic in my writing, because it makes me want to just write more for everyone~ You guys are the best ;w;

Keys: [F/N] - Friend’s name

[F/LN] - Friend’s last name

[Y/N] - Your name

[L/N] - Your last name

Tags: @captain-winter-wolf-aehs, @rosealexandersson, @alientrashbin, @honeybeelily, @dragonempress123, @randomstuff-idontwannatalkaboutit, @sygin, @dylan-o-yumm @im-a-slut-for-connors-hair-flipp, @ elaneth-elf-friend

I think I’m missing some tags. x.x I’m so sorry...

Warm in your bed, you weren’t keen on waking up for work. The sun was already leaking through your curtains and you could hear the birds chatting and singing up a storm on the nearby willow tree. You quickly switched off the buzzing of your alarm before slumping back down onto the bed.

Staring at the ceiling, you sighed as your mind was already in the works. There was so much to think about considering what had happened last night. You closed your eyes as you replayed the events, remembering every single detail. The sight of Connor’s shirtless body, android-white and gleaming as if it were shining in perspiration. His hair hanging loosely over his forehead with messed curls. The warmth of his breath by your cheek, feathering your neck. His gentle hands brushing against your other cheek, comforting and rhythmic. His hooded, coffee eyes, harsh and piercing, warning away other predators but alluring, tender and almost pleading when they met yours.

And oh. His lips. Oh my god. His soft, inviting lips. Parted slightly. Teasing. Close. Curled in a soft snarl with a tensed jaw and gritted teeth.

You inhaled sharply and bit your lip, feeling heavy churning in your stomach. It was supposed to be the feeling of butterflies but it felt more of wild flapping of disturbed pigeons. You groaned and grabbed the nearby pillow, stuffing it onto your face as you tried to get the images of Connor out of your head.

You had left Hank’s place before anyone had the chance to explain anything but not before placing a blanket on a drunk lieutenant that drooling on the couch. You had asked [F/N] if they were okay getting home on their own to which they had hesitatingly reassured you they were going to be fine. Flushed and embarrassed, you had distractedly arrived in your own home, showered in frustration and fell into restless sleep.

You finally decided that your job was the only thing that fed and housed you, flipping the blankets off and proceeded to clean the evidence of sleep. You were frying quick breakfast when your phone rang. Wiping your hands with a nearby cloth, you looked at the screen to see your caller.

Connor - RK800.

You felt your cheeks immediately burn at the sight of his name and his contact picture, regal and poised. You paced the small apartment kitchen, your heart beating faster with slight anxiety working you up. You suspected he called to apologise for his behaviour and blame it on a system malfunction, vowing that it would never happen again.

The phone was still ringing. Oh crap. You panicked and pressed the decline button. Oh my god, why did you do that? Facepalming and whispering curses to yourself, you scraped the nearly burnt breakfast into a plastic box. Putting the breakfast into your bag, you locked up and quickly boarded the bus that nearly left without you. You settled down on a seat near the window and plugged in your earphones, selecting your favourite song as the bus pulled out onto the road. You looked around and saw androids and humans sitting next to each other like there were no differences. Ever since the android revolution, relationships between androids and humans were quite estranged. However, the androids were putting on their best behaviour, ready to be accepted as equals. They no longer needed to stand in their own android compartments on buses, android parking and such. They were one of us now. You smiled as you saw an android lady talking animatedly to a small boy, revealing her android skin around her hands. It seemed like she was teaching him something. The boy’s father was beaming proudly at them both. It looked like they were such a happy family.

Imagine if you and Connor were a family. Holding hands, laughing as your child ran ahead, chasing a little ladybug. Choking, you realised what you were thinking about and turned away to face the window to watch the passing streets as the world woke up in the sunlight. 

You need to get yourself together, [Y/N]. You mentally slapped yourself, it was definitely just a system malfunction. Connor was still adjusting to the new deviancy. After all, he was made to be a deviant hunter so obviously Cyberlife would take extra precautions in his programming.

The bus stopped at the small square where the bookstore was and you briskly stepped off, making your way down the path. Greeting a few other shop owners that were also just opening, you rummaged for your keys, opening the door.

The door revealed a rather large plush doll of a Saint Bernard sitting on the counter. Around its neck, was a golden chained, ivory stone necklace. You were stunned as you looked around outside to search for the culprit. No one suspicious in sight. Returning back inside, you placed your bags down and picked up the plush. It resembled a lot like Sumo. You noticed a solid paper card underneath the plush, sealed in a golden envelope that had your name in crisp, cursive black print. Probably Cyberlife Cursive typeface, you guessed. Connor...sent this? You were quite surprised because people rarely use paper anymore with the new digital age and all. He certainly had a taste for gifts and maybe by the fact that you work at one of the few standing paperback bookstores, he knew you preferred the traditional materials.

You put down the plush and carefully opened the envelope, pulling out the letter within.

[Y/N].

Hank and I would like to present these as gifts souvenirs we have collected during our investigation. As you may have guessed, the Saint Bernard stuffed doll is a representation of Sumo, chosen by Hank himself. He had immediately thought of you when he passed it by the store window. As you know, Hank doesn't like sappiness so he does not want to include himself in this letter.

You snorted out loud, smiling as you read. Classic Hank.

The necklace around Stuffed Sumo is my gift to you. Made out of pure ivory, it is actually the rare tooth of an elk. I had promised to find you a souvenir from the investigation itself so yes this is part of the pieces of evidence. Don't worry. They won't be able to detect the difference between the fake I deposited.

As I present these gifts, I would like to apologize for my behavior last night. It was definitely very uncharacteristic of me and I have done a self-diagnosis that indicates a bit of a system error. I hope [F/N] did not take offense.

Ah there it was. You had already predicted what he would say.

I hope that you would find it in your heart to look past this inconvenience.

Connor

Oh... Inconvenience? Okay sure, it was an inconvenience to your poor heart and mind that wouldn't stop freaking out but you knew that wasn't what Connor had meant. Shaking your head with a smile, you placed the Sumo plush by the window, giving it a pat on the head before setting down to work. It was so sweet of both of them. You made a vow to always treasure them both enough and to make sure they knew.

Half way through the day, you remembered to give [F/N] a call, to make sure they weren't going to run away from you. You had also wanted to catch up with them before they headed overseas again.

"It seems like I have competition," they had joked and reassured you. "Don't worry about it too much."

You had sighed with relief. "Could I make it up to you with a proper dinner out? I promise it'll be Conner-less."

Agreeing on a time and a rather expensive place, you decided to message Hank, letting him know that you were going to be missing dinner with them.

As evening settled, you waved off your last customer before putting away the last stock. You were just about to leave before something glittered by the window, reminding you of a certain tenderness. Connor's necklace. Biting your lip in a quick thought, you decided to take the necklace off of stuffed Sumo. Clasping the chain around your neck, you glanced at the reflection on the window, admiring the way the tooth glimmered against the streetlight that streamed through the glass.

You touched it lightly with your hand as you thought about Connor once more. How was it possible that a machine becoming deviant could be so impactful...? It allowed him to understand sentimentality. Evolution was a wonder.

Feeling rather embarrassed about the amount of times you thought about him, you shook your head and exited the shop, making your way to the restaurant.

The night was going really well. Excellent food and drinks along with [F/N] with so many stories to tell about their adventures and experiences in teaching at seminars and several universities. You exchanged stories by telling them about the whole deviant revolution that happened a few years back and how things were actually still so raw. You avoided the subject about work, explaining that it was obviously nothing compared to what they were doing.

You had excused yourself to go to the restroom and had just walked out when suddenly, the restaurant exploded, causing you to fly backwards into the wall. You felt your breath leave you as you fell onto the floor. You could hear screams along with things breaking and burning. What the hell happened...? Glancing around with blurred eyes, you saw that everything was in ruins and on fire. Nothing was recognizable anymore. You feel your conscious giving up on you as everything slowly turned dark.

Then...silence.

It felt like you were drifting in the void, drowsily letting go of everything. It was so quiet. It was kind of nice. Just nothing. It felt like you had been there for ages.

"[Y/N]!"

Someone was calling out to you. Probably [F/N]. You could sense desperation in their voice. You opened your eyes but squinted them close again from the white flash of pain that you felt everywhere.

You tried to get up but a sharp jab in your chest caused you to cry out as you collapsed back down. Strong hands gripped your arms, stablising you. You felt them lift you up, sweeping you into a bridal style. They were asking you something but your ears still rang of both noise and silence. Was that even possible...? You felt that you had discovered new muscles and pain in areas that you didn’t realise could feel pain. Hazily nuzzling against their chest, you moaned, trying to communicate with your savior.

They were saying something else, but you could only make out the reassuring tone with a sense of worry and anger. Closing your eyes, you let yourself be carried outside and felt your skin prickle with something damp. Oh. It was raining. The air smelt of the mixture of burnt plastic, smoke and moisture of the rain. You could hear panicked voices, sirens and just ultimate chaos. You were placed onto something soft and your savior’s hands searching you everywhere. They gently touched your face, eyes, ears, down to your neck, and suddenly...

WOAH, WOAH, WOAH! As you felt the pair of hands lift up your shirt you jolted up despite what it feels like to be a stab wound in your chest.

“HEY!” you yelled, feeling the haziness flutter away form your brain. “What are you doing?!”

The hands pushed you gently but firmly down. “Please calm down, [Y/N], you are seriously injured and I need to remove this garment so I can tend to it.”

The voice sounded extremely familiar now that you were out of the initial haze. You closed your eyes as you pleaded. Please don’t let it be Connor, please don’t let it be Connor, please don’t let it Connor... You wouldn’t know how to react if it was the detective android that was tending to your pretty exposed body.

You opened your eyes slowly to look at your caretaker.

What do you know...? Of course, it was Connor.

"Wha-" You stuttered as you looked at him up and down. Oh no... Not the collared white shirt. It was slightly singed with smudged ashes. Thank goodness it wasn't buttoned down all the way. It looked like he was having a casual night before everything happened. There was still quite a visual of his collarbone but you immediately looked right up to his eyes to stop yourself from flushing more than usual.

"Connor!" you gasped, bewildered. "What are you doing here?!"

You realised that you were in the back of an ambulance with the doors opened, allowing you to make out a crowd of people and flashing lights of authority. Conner scanned the road, searching for something before turning his gaze back to you. His eyes were filled with the same fire they held the previous the night as his jaw evidently tightens.

"Why did you not inform me of where you were?" he hissed, his voice lower and huskier than usual. You felt your chest numb, as Connor injects something there. It didn’t stop the burning traces of his hands as they brushed against your skin while he worked on stitching up the wound that sat directly below your rib.

"Hey, I told Hank I was going to be busy," you retorted defensively.

The Android took a step closer towards you, his LED flashing red as he concentrated. "But you didn't tell me," he growled slowly. "And now you are here. With [F/N].” Quite honestly, instead of intimidating you, it was turning you on a little, despite your condition. The close proximity is going to drive you nuts.

You opened your mouth, suddenly worried about [F/N] but Connor waved his hand dismissively, interrupting you. “They’re fine.”

His eyes briefly flickered to you as you looked away, relieved. Glancing back at him, you frowned. “Is it even in your programming to know how to tend to the wounded?”

Connor subtly tilted his head in his usual quirk, eyes not leaving your injury. “I have some programming,” he explained absentmindedly. “It would also be an inconvenience to me if a foreign model or person touches you.”

Your eyes widened at his additional comment, and you could feel a rise in heat.

He shook his head in frustration and continues to scold you. “Look at what happens when I am not around; you get into trouble."

You decided that you were done being bullied into submission even though you were lying there belly-bare as he towered you. "Conner, they're just my friend that I haven't seen in ever." You glared at him square in the eyes, causing him to raise an eyebrow at your sudden fire of defiance. "It’s also not often that restaurants get blown up either. I can take care of myself. I don't belong to you or anything, it's not like you own me." You tried to restrain from grimacing from the ache all over your body, feeling smug at your self-confidence.

The detective smirked, agreeing to play your game. "Well, Miss [L/N]," he cut the last thread of the stitch, letting his hand rest on the nape of your neck. Taking the chain of the ivory tooth necklace and slowly brushing against your skin, he knelt down and leaned in right next to your ear. His other hand was resting on your bare belly, thumb stroking lightly.

Your breath hitched as you felt his lips graze ever so lightly against your cheek. You could feel your heart wanting to jump right out your throat and throw itself at Connor. What the hell man. This isn't fair. You were a strong independent person and yet, your willpower and probably sense of dignity would vanish the moment Connor came into scene. To top it off, you were wounded and vulnerable in a bed so obviously he had the higher ground.

"The moment you placed this on..." he whispered, pulling back slightly, his face only inches away from yours as he glances at you with eyes glinting dangerously.

"You belong to me.”

You laid there, hot, bothered and in pain. This was absolute torture. You closed your eyes, and kept your lips thin as you stubbornly refused to look at him, knowing that he enjoyed toying with you.

You heard him move away, possibly with the biggest, cockiest smirk in history. You still kept your eyes shut, brows furrowed with embarrassment.

“I must tend to the investigation now, they need me to be on scene,” you heard Connor say.

He placed a soft hand in the middle of your chest and scanned, enjoying the sight of your elevated heartbeat on his HUD interface.

“Get better, [Y/N]. I will be expecting you.”

[sparda3g]

Attack on Titan Chapter 109 Review

There’s a reason why we have role models in our time. They can be inspiring and encouraging. They can help a person or people to gain a future. The only downside is it doesn’t always mean good. One can inspire them to do great things; however, it’s their decision to choose a path. This series has done stories about inspiration in the past; this time, we see the effect from the characters we followed since the beginning. This may be a chapter with more developments in story and conflicts, but it’s one that is necessary to understand the deep foundation of its long-term effect. Leader is a fitting title.

Gabi and Falco are brought to the girl’s orphan home. I believe it’s not the same home where we last saw Historia, but regardless, she doesn’t appear here at all. Instead, it’s a story of two Marley kids; one tries to fit in and the other can’t stand to live on a soil of the devil. This is quite the challenging chapter for those who can’t stand Gabi’s attitude, but it is necessary if the ending truly has its merits.

For the most part, she is still under influence of Paradis Island citizens as demons while Falco is more open to others. Once they got inside the girl’s home, he does the talking for both. If Gabi were to talk, it’s an early game over for them. Falco may not be strong, but he is wise to think carefully. He thought of a fake name for both and a fake backstory on the spot. The way he speaks appears like a bad actor. If so, I would love to see it animated.

The Braus Family welcomes them to the farm. As you can guess, they are nice people, helping others like they are family. It was all nice and charming with the mother patting Gabi’s head like a nice kid, until Gabi knocks her hand violently. It really got awkward at the dining table; almost like they are about to scream, “Evil!” Falco reacts quickly to ease the mood and eats his breakfast with glee. Seriously, I believe he’s pulling a bad acting skill. I really want to see it animated. So everything seems back to normal. For now.

We have a greedy lady, Kiyomi, and a strange fellow, Darius, having a chat. Basically, he greets her to the Paradis Island, the most dangerous island in the world. He actually said that, which is funny. She congratulate them for their victory at Marley. But the real important note is the invention of an aircraft run by iceburst stone. It’s designed for the flattening the world plan. The next battle is shaping up to be more devastating than I thought.

Speaking of devastating, there’s an uproar by the Headquarter. All the introduced characters from the Uprising Arc are presence here. This is like a tribute to the anime since it’s the current arc. While we’re at it, let’s also put Hange into the mix, because there’s nothing like a good old reunion. Sadly, it’s a reunion of trust slowly being tarnished.

Once again, I feel bad for her to appear disloyal to her people. With the anime recalling the moment, it’s actually sad to see this. That’s a good timing on Isayama’s part. Everyone feels like Hange has changed her way when they are told about Eren as captive and such. She can only tell them that her method is to save Eldians. It’s not the best answer but she is clearly stressed out. The one who leaked out the info is the new recruits. That includes Floch.

Usually, the new batch of characters tend to be the next runner-up to die. It could still be the case, but they are adding something else to the table, starting with Floch. He’s making it difficult for Hange since he’s more on the freedom fighter side that believes domination is the key. He wants to cause a protest to free Eren. This ensue a heated debate between him and Hange and it’s interesting.

It’s mainly because no one is really right, even if one path is already decided. One way or another, Paradis Island is in a tough position. Either die by starvation or die by fighting. I like how the one panel has them sitting in their chair silently, indicating either no one wins the debate or Floch has the lead because of the path they’re already in. He pleads once more to release Eren, which is his closing argument. Although Hange was again1st his idea, she thought he might be right. It was technically her fault to follow this plot, but she won’t let the damage go any further. Therefore, she sends them to solitary confinement.

This means she won the confrontation, right? She has, in a sense of disagreeing his proposal. However, Floch got the last laugh by not only be glad to go to jail, but doing so for the humans of the walls. That makes him look like the hero and at the same time, mocks her. The sad part is the reminder of a moment from Uprising Arc, where that guy in misery warned her that the role is played in turns. In other words, she’s playing the role now. She is slowly losing her cool, but she can’t let it go nor get some sleep. Damn, I missed her eccentric personality.

If you recall a new female recruit, she is Luise and yes, she is the one who Mikasa saved in the past. Good eyes, fans. Those two have a chat at the cell and this is where the chapter’s title becomes clear. Luise is a big fan of hers ever since that day. I can’t confirm if she loves her in a romantic sense, especially how she hoped she was in the same cell as hers, but regardless, she is obviously influenced. That all said there’s something not right.

While Luise is all about fighting to survive, her ways of handling it is questionable. She thinks if she breaks out the cell, she will be excused because she fights for honor. I know other manga excuse it like nothing, but let’s be real. It doesn’t matter because she still stand by her choice, no regret. It gets a bit personal when she mentions Mikasa’s reasoning to join Survey Corps and it annoys her. The sad part is it feels like Mikasa is responsible for Luise’s upbringing; for better or worse. It tops it off with Luise saluting; a familiar imagery from the past. That right there says it all about inspiration.

The one part that I’m still wondering the purpose is when Mikasa has a sudden flashback to when her life was changed forever. It strongly emphasized the brutality of the moment when Eren killed that invader, including the close-up shot of his expression covered in blood. It’s rather eerie with Eren casually saying not to worry in a disturbing view. I don’t know the meaning behind it or rather, what’s going to follow up this scene. It’d probably be addressed when she and Armin confront Eren.

The segment with Pixis and Yelena is more of segue to something interesting that is saved for next time. That said I did enjoy the build towards it with Yelena just chilling and Pixis jotting down all the evidences that interested him. It’s no secret that she would love to speak with the Great Eren. That is actually noteworthy because it plays a part in here.

Apparently, she was caught in an act where she requested to be placed under supervision and the one who was placed in that position was Floch. That already tells you everything. Because of him, he took her to a residential area that was pretty close to Eren’s residential area. That’s where they believe she and Eren made contact. That’s not hard to argue against. With Pixis got her attention, they’re going to have a long talk and it could be interesting. It could answer a lot; at least that’s what I’m hoping for.

I got to say, Isayama does have strange yet funny sense of humor, considering the dark nature. Case in point, the cleaning up the barn scene. Gabi and Falco are normally cleaning when suddenly the horse was channeling the fans and take a bite of her head. She then slips and falls hard; it must be fans’ pleasing moment. I laughed at that horse. Hell I think it’s laughing as well. Don’t forget the classic bucket on the head. I like how Falco keeps screaming her name for every blunder. It’s pretty funny really.

It’s also funny how they take her devil calling as a joke. She’s like, “This is the work of the devil!” Falco is like, “Uh no…It’s just the horse.” Thankfully, he’s thinking straight to keep it calm, making the best out of the situation. He convinces her to stay by noting that Marley and the world will eventually arrive to attack, though she thought he hated Zeke for the betrayal. The one worrisome to keep in mind is Falco did screw up for Marley by sending Eren’s letter. If she learns about it, God knows what will happen next.

We then have an unusual children drama segment involving with Gabi, of course, and the girl. Surprisingly, I was pretty intrigued. I must have missed it, but the girl’s name is Kaya. Anyway, it was all calming during the break, nice and easy, until Kaya mentions the tragic event four years ago. That was the trigger for Gabi. Because of the lessons that was shoved into Marley’s children’s mind, she acts like Paradis Island is filled with murderers that asked for sympathy. It is like, “Yeah, well, you did sin first, so why you’re acting like the victim.” The funny part is Kaya knew those two are from Marley and it took them a couple of words to realize what she just said. Isayama and his comedy.

What’s also hilarious is how this was an earth-shattering news to them, wondering how she knows, only the explanation boils down to, “Falco said it out loud.” Oops. So it was his fault. Who knew? Falco laughs it off but Gabi tries to attack with a pitchfork in front of others. This would have been the best time to expose them, but Kaya lies and say she only got upset due to their friendship. Amazing how Kaya comes off more mature out of this feud, though that’s not a surprise. The only question is why.

She takes them on a tour to a village where she used to live four years ago. She explains her grim experience with a titan, when she was with her mother with legs problem. If you haven’t guessed it by now, she’s in fact the same girl who Sasha saved back in anime season 2. The long-term payoff strikes again; bless this series. Also, good call once again, fans. The way she tells her story is disturbing, especially the part about her mother’s slow, painful death. I know we have seen it before, but it doesn’t make it any less scary. She then proceed to ask them a tough question that makes this segment necessary: what did her mom do to deserve it?

I believe, and hopefully I’m right, this moment is where Gabi put everything on the table and lash out from the bottom of her heart of her feelings. I said this because her attitude and mindset must change right here, right now. Instead of having her endlessly complain about the devil crap, she must put in her place and this is the time. Right from the very start, she already lost the argument when she mentioned something that happened a thousand years ago. So what?

Okay, it’s not the best choice of words, but the thing is a person should only look what’s now and later on. If there’s anything to recite a past, it’s your own, that’s it. Don’t let another’s journey carry you. Everything she spouts has nothing to do with Laya’s mother, let alone her. This is why Gabi’s mental state is so corrupted. The most effective part is when Laya begins to respond back and every time she does, Gabi slowly loses her stand. Her argument is nothing but a reach for the sake being the righteous one.

Laya has the same expression throughout the chapter until she loses it here because of Gabi’s unconvincing answer. Her stand is far more reasonable than Gabi because not only she lost her mother, but it happened not so long ago. She saw it herself and Gabi could only reference a history that who knows is even true. She’s clearly defeated; couldn’t even say anything more. Falco gives her the answer and it’s all because of the military. Simple as that. He apologizes because he has a heart. It’s not his fault but I can understand why.

After all that breakdown, Laya continues to cover them. That’s nice and mature of her, but why. It’s because of Sasha. It’s rather awkward that she mentioned about her in front of Gabi because well, you know. She explains the story of how she was saved and ultimately, changed her life. Gabi actually calmly ask why she’s helping them, which I think it’s a good sign for her character to calm down for once. Her reply hits the theme perfectly; she want to become a good person, like that girl. In other words, Sasha was her role model; her leader.

This seems to be a defining moment for them, so they can learn and grow up outside of Marley. It’s definitely challenging to withstand Gabi, but she’s a kid and manipulated to the core, so I won’t fault her that much. Now, if she remain very similar after this, I don’t know how much we have to endure. Still, if this is changing point, I’ll be glad that it happened here.

This was a pretty intriguing chapter. It continued to build up each aspects at Paradis Island, including the new weapon that I’ll bet it will happen when Marley attacks. The whole conflict within Survey Corps continued to be interesting, not knowing where this is going, including Eren. There were noteworthy tidbits such as Mikasa’s memory that could lead to interesting developments. The whole segment with Gabi and Falco can be rough for many, but if its payoff begins to surface in the next chapter, then it’s well worth the endurance. The theme was well addressed with how one generation can effect another, for better or worse. It’s why “Leader” is the chapter’s title. Life goes on.

[aggresivelyfriendly]

~Meet Me In The Hallway~

Chapter 36-Se Rejouir

Hey Loveys!! Our interactions are the most fun! The Music Man! The Music!

Happy Reading-If you love a phrase or wanna fight me-let me know!

"Melly, Melody! Please answer your phone! Please! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. I didn't know! I didn't know she was coming! She planned it all with Jeff, I think before I told him you were comin. I had no intention of you seeing....I know, Angel, I know.....I know it hurt you, it would kill m..........what are we doing?"

His voice sounded tiny, like he was in a bathroom. And the silent bits were loud, or full of audible breaths.

I tried to staunch my sobs and thanked my unlucky stars that my parents were still asleep when I came in like a wrecking ball after the show. I can't remember the exact sequence of events around my departure.

If I was writing the movie it would go like this. Two lost lovers stare at each other with hope and excitement before it is all dashed out of their eyes as an interloper arrives. Our heroine looks heartbroken and a tear leaks from one eye. Our 'hero' looks regretful and watches her turn on her heel and exit the room before faking a smile and redirecting his attention to the beautiful woman in his arms. The woman looks strikingly similar to the one who just exited, only a little better.

The only part that would be true is the description of HER, the girlfriend. She was tall, an inch shorter than me and slim and gorgeous and obviously a model. She had long wavy blonde hair and a beautiful face with big blue eyes. But she looked a little less exaggerated than me. Less like an anime character and more classically beautiful. She was also in a white dress. Guess he had a type.

Why did that feel like eating broken glass?

The real scene played out more like a shit show. I audibly choked when I figured out what was going on. She snuck up behind him and spun her boyfriend like a top, crying "Baby!" happily before attaching their mouths. Harry was still reeling from the spin and it was almost like we were dancing, because his momentum transferred to me and I about faced and made my exit. I didn't give myself any time to process it, nor did I stick around to be forced to go through an awkward meeting. In hindsight, this was probably incredibly rude of me. The idea of having to stand and shake her hand and learn her name while I was shattering like a mirror sounds like a torture out of the Saw movies. Maybe every shiny piece that fell off of me onto the floor would have left a bleeding slice and I'd have to stand there like nothing was happening and make small talk and pretend that I wasn't watching someone else live the life I dreamed about while blood trickled from lots of tiny cuts.

In my flight, I realized the more painful parts later. Like the resemblance. In the moment, I just watched my heart be torn out of my chest and crushed by the man that I had just decided to give it back to. Well, he probably had it the whole time based on how I was feeling. Listening to his message, he didn't mean for this to happen, or for me to see something so painful. And he knows it would be, Harry had made it clear the thought of Milo hurt him, and he was empathetic enough to know how he would feel if we had switched places. I think it hurt so badly because I was turned back on. Being near to Harry and letting myself feel made everything bright. Like my life had been turned down, a volume dial on 2, until I walked in to his literal arena and went up to 11.

I want to be dialed back again, that numb region between 2-4 was looking really attractive right now.

I'm sure a sound like an injured cat escaped me and I pivoted and my heel caught. I fell to my knees. The abrasion on my right leg bled all the way home. I heard my name behind me, but it sounded like your favorite song playing in another room. So I got myself up in a scramble of long limbs and I ran. There was a car near the curb at the VIP entrance I had come through. I'm sure it wasn't for me, but the driver took one look at the bodily fluids leaking from my knee and eyes and nose and asked, "Where to?"

I gasped out my parent's address. I wanted Kara, but knew she had a visitor, and this was no way to meet her man.

I think I saw a suit clad man with wild hair chasing the car. But I kept my head forward. Towards my future.

Harry had called. Over and over, then texted. I'd shut my phone down. When I got brave enough, as a rainy day dawned, I listened to some of the messages. The one asking what we were doing was the last one. The others had been him asking me to answer. Most of them were sweet and full of sorry words. Like I caught him cheating on me, instead of the truth.

Truth was that we were walking a really fine line. We weren't seeing each other, until tonight, and our conversations were not naughty, they barely even crossed the line to flirty. But nobody knew. We were hiding again. This time with much better reason. There was so much between us, there were not enough words to cover it. At the very least, I was cheating emotionally. Harry took over my mind like an occupying army. Our memories invaded happy moments and disappointments alike. There was no activity I could be doing, or conversation I could be having, or plans I could be making free from his bombardment.

The memories were not even the worst of it, the real betrayals. Those were the possibilities. I was building a life on clouds everyday. Daydreaming about what ifs. I'd be having a lovely moment, slow dancing while cooking dinner, or cake tasting, or listening to prospective bands, and Milo would be replaced in my head, like an avatar, a space holder for Harry. I rejected a band Milo loved, they even knew some Spanish standards, because there was one Harry would have liked better. Might have kidnapped the vocalist and brought him on the road.

When I picked the banana cake for the top tier, I had to admit to myself what I was doing. But I didn't until I was laying on the floor of a bedroom that was once mine and looked at the choices I had been making for the last several months. I laid them out the way I did my physical flaws at 13, side my side in a long line. I was that frog in the video game in the middle of the street waiting to get squashed under car wheels. But I was choosing to hop there.

What were we doing? What was I doing? To myself, to Milo and Harry. I had trouble caring about her.

Harry had a girlfriend, who flew to Australia to surprise him. Sounded serious. And I was getting married. I was getting married in three months. And today, I was going back to the bridal shop and buying a dress. Not the One, because the thought of wearing that dress and not standing in front of Harry on a spring day in England was even more miserable to think about than seeing Harry kiss another woman. I pushed away the thoughts of him standing facing somebody else before an altar.

And Milo. He was the real victim here. I'd never even told him about Harry. I had alluded to a bad break up and when we had had the sexual history conversation. He had only asked for numbers and testing. It was all very grown up and mature. But it also allowed me to pretend to be more over it than I was. At the time, I really thought I was over it. But, it was like a cold case, new evidence had been brought to light, and I'd had to let Harry out of the mental prison he'd been in due to wrongful conviction. Now I was in the cell in my head, because I deserved it, and just like any prisoner, all I seemed to have was time to think about what I had done to get me there.

And Harry had been open to me. To talking to me. And I'd missed him, and his horrible puns and the sound of his voice and his joy! If Harry liked something, he liked it big - without self consciousness. And he would tell me about the things he was seeing with his increased time and freedom and I was so happy for him. All I wanted was for him to be happy.

But secretly, I had decided that was with me.

I had imagined this entire scenario in my head. I'd tell him I wanted him. The last three years would evaporate along with our hurts, and we would be together.

I guess I thought our partners would just disappear too.

Even my non break up with Harry had been torturous. We hadn't actually had the heart rending talk until years afterwards, but it was bad as the time. Yet, we had shared nothing. There were no assets to divide. I didn't have to go look at real estate to figure out where I would be laying my head. Whereas, If I broke up with Milo, which a small lady clad in white on my right shoulder was screaming I had to do for decency's sake, I had to find a place to go in Singapore, at least until I decided where in the world I wanted to be. And when we had moved in, we had each come with a few things, but we had not been careful about what was mine and what was his. The things we bought, Milo bought, were to be ours. I was just thankful our finances were separate beyond that. If he forgave me, we'd have to keep it like that.

Milo's name appears on my phone. And I just can't. I couldn't talk to him. Because I may have just told him everything, and arranged for him to not be home when I got back so that I can get my things and find a new place. Or beg.

That all felt hasty. Maybe if I told him everything, we could have started there. And since I didn't have Harry, and my fantasies had been unrealistic, we could start again, maybe delay the wedding I was not ready for. Because Milo was wonderful and I'd be lucky to have him, and I could work harder and make sure I was more worthy.

Maybe. Once he'd gone to voicemail, I called Kara.

"Yeah?"

"Can I come over?" I croaked.

"Um," she giggled and I was torn. She was happy and I could see the rose colored glasses on her face. The black cloud over my head was no good. I would not bring the rain down on her and Aiden's head.

"Kara," I bit my lip to make my voice stop going side to side like a weeble, "Sounds like you are still in the throes! Call me when you are done!"

"Ok!" She said and I heard her squeal as she hung up.

I could see them in my mind's eye, running, playing a very grown up game of tag in their undies.

Milo always felt the need to initiate wrestling matches. Last year, on the hottest day ever, or at least it felt like it, the grid went down and we were without air con. We'd been eating frozen fruit on the couch when I'd pushed him with my toes. He'd grabbed my foot then and hoisted me over. Before I knew it, he had me pinned beneath him and we were grappling and giggling and the juice from the quickly melting pineapple he was dribbling on my chest had wet through my bra.

"That looks sticky-guess I better help you take it off!" And my bralette was never seen again. It might be under the couch or in the cushions. We were already so sweaty, it didn't matter how much more gross we got and the cold shower afterwards was a remedy for several ills.

I was thinking how sweet the memory was, and that maybe all was not lost there, when Harry and his giant head invaded my mind.

Occasionally, the whole touring company would play hide and seek on the floors we occupied. There were long days sometimes where going outside was precluded because of the 1000's of fans crowded around the place and fifa and other games could get old.

"Knock, knock!" Niall's voice would sound, as he was instigator in chief, "We are doing shots and playing hide and go seek, get your arses out here!" Down the hallway he'd go and the assembled company would tumble out.

Before we were out, Harry and I would sneak into the hallway before everybody else and separate. Then we'd spend the rest of it trying to find each other and making out in any particularly secluded space we could find.

After everybody knew...well I still don't think Michael has recovered from where he found us tangled around each other. The bottle of water he'd doused us with was icy!

I pushed the memories away with both hands and got myself to the bathroom. My reflection suggested I'd been on a bender or a runway in the heroine chic era. My eyes were rimmed black and mascara had leaked onto my cheeks.

The water was cold, but it woke me up. I created this. By not being honest, with Milo, and Harry and myself.

I should have told Harry my hopes, so he could have dashed them properly. Maybe over the phone so I could save myself the heartbreak. I should have told Milo about my wandering heart.

I should have admitted to myself what I was doing.

I should have talked to Harry three years ago before I ran.

The fourth stair down creaks if you step on the right side of it. I carefully tiptoed over it and held the banister to get downstairs for some food.

I mentally clapped myself on the back for being sneaky when I saw my parents sitting at the breakfast bar. They looked grim, like somebody died. I dramatically thought it must be my funeral.

"Morning!" I salvoed and tried to get tea as though nothing is amiss. I'd cleaned up my face and it was not too puffy, maybe they wouldn't notice.

"Melody Olivia," Dad started, shit. "Sit down."

They were clutching hands, like they were when my mom got her biopsy results. Tears are not being pressed down like a suitcase with too much stuffing, so I was hopeful this was just about the mess I'm in, not about matters of actual life and death importance.

I brought my cup and sat. 'What's going on?"

"We're concerned about you." My mom started.

"I'm not concerned about you, I'm damn worried." Dad harrumphed. "What are you doing, Melly? Here to pick out your wedding dress and sneaking out to see Harry? We didn't raise you like that?" He looked disappointed and I flashed to when I cheated on an exam and confessed to him.

"I didn't," I started with no end in sight to the sentence. "I just went to his show. We've been trying to be friends, Harry and me." I explained, painting a picture backlit with white. They both give me a look like they have just bitten into a lemon. "What?"

They exchanged  a look and my dad gestured for my mom to wade in. "Melody, you and Harry aren't friends. Don't think you can be. There's a force in the air when you two are near each other, like when you teach kids about magnets and they try to keep them apart. When he came here, that first time, your father and I could see it. It's why we let you leave with him. We doubted you'd ever come back."

She sighed. "But then you did, and I'm so thankful, I may not have had the will to go through," she swallowed, "You were my hope darling," she reached forward to caress my face, "As ever. But your hope was fading, we could see it. And then you were this ghost of a person. Never seen anybody so sad. We don't want you to ever feel that way again!" My dad squeezed her hand. "Then you just left. And he came looking for you, and we did what we thought best, though now, to watch you two orbiting each other again is..."

My dad cut in, "Melody Olivia."my name is a sentence onto itself. "You have some decisions to make. And right now. I may not be Milo's biggest fan. But he loves you and has made some big promises to you, which you've  accepted. And your mother tells me that you wouldn't buy a dress and don't you think she doesn't know why!" His voice went up at the end. "It's not right, little one, it's not. You and Harry are gonna wind up hurting a lot of people."

That's when I cut in. "Harry's not even an option! And I'm gonna." My eyes brimmed again. "I'm gonna tell Milo the truth and see if we can move on. Maybe we can delay a bit. I should marry him, I'd be lucky to." I bit my lip and could taste a bit of rust plus salt from my tears. "But I've discovered I have some feelings I need to get over. Harry, Harry." I'm not sure where to go there. "I need to get over him, we talked out all of our issues and he has, his," dammit, overflow, "His girlfriend was there last night. So, I'm sure that's done. And you guys are right, we can't be friends."

My parents looked at each other and the silent communication made me ache with pride and longing. We should all have that. It dawned on me that there was something I was missing.

"We think," my mother began then gave my dad a helpless look.

"Melody, we think you need to decide what you want. And try to be honest-then go get it," he said.

I shook my head. I couldn't have what I want, I ran that ship aground and damaged it beyond repair.

"I, he's happy, he looked happy, and that's." I looked up to clear my eyes and voice, "That's what I want for him. He's moved on and leaves today, I think. I need to accept reality and, um, be content." Like Kara said. My parents shared another look and my mother nodded.

 "Melody, Harry's in the sun room. He came this morning. To me that doesn't sound as hopeless as you think."

My dad keeps talking but I can't process anything beyond the fact that Harry is two rooms away.

[cravitus426]

armchair science rambles - plasmaguns and pigs

tl;dr plasma is not laser beams and it needs ammo to function

also star wars plasma is (obviously) a bad representation

something i’ve put some thought into recently (read: a few weeks ago in a discord argument) was plasma weaponry, and specifically i was picking at some lore for a weapon from the extended Aliens universe, the M78 PIG

now the PIG is a phased plasma infantry gun and what this means is it’s basically a rocket launcher shaped plasma gun that makes the target stop existing fairly quickly

now my specific conundrum with the PIG to start with was ‘what does it look like when firing’ - and so i figured i’d go to the next best source for phased plasma guns in a james cameron film, the terminator franchise

now as we can see that’s not your typical halo lightball of pain, and it’s more like a laserbeam - closer to star wars, in fact, but regardless i was met with skepticism from my peers as to the kind of plasma the PIG would be blasting at tanks from a kilometer out and figured a halo style bolt made more sense

i agreed to disagree and then we escalated from applying the visuals from two different movies of the same tech from the same director to justifying why the PIG would probably fire a long beamlike bolt of plasma, which then took me into the pseudoscience behind how the PIG probably works

now the PIG itself is in two components as the AvP wiki (or if you want to get to the root, the colonial marine tech manual) says, covering the launcher and the powerpack; within these two components, we know that there is a laser, a magnetic coil, and a feed of cadmium telluride pellets plus a power source - that black shiny material in solar panels, i believe

now at first glance you may make the mistake of thinking that vaporized pellets are fed into the plasmagun, which is simply incorrect and, upon further consideration, impractical, unfeasible, and is in fact the main reason i’m making this post to begin with - but more on that in a moment

now the rough idea i have with the PIG is that during it’s firing cycle it charges or uses the laser to then vaporize the cadmium telluride pellets fed into the weapon, causing them to vaporize, becoming a gas, and subsequently become ionized - becoming plasma, in other words

after the laser rapidly heats the pellet, the ionized gas which has shed it’s electtrons is then rapidly discharged by the magnetic coil in a focused beam or bolt towards the target, and the projectile has such power or focus that even up to a kilometer away the single pellet of material is enough to punch through the rear armor of a heavy tank - that’s how i’d imagine the PIG works, at least

now when in flight certain things would happen to this bolt of plasma, especially once it leaves the magnetic field generated by the magnetic coils of the PIG - the least of which is a dispersion and cooling over long distances

plasma is still hot gas, after all, and gas wants to expand outward rather than be compressed into a space, which is then all the more reason for a rapid beamlike discharge because the faster that gas goes to the target the less time it has to expand and weaken

a contemporary example of what this could look like in action, as far as videogames go, would be XCOM 2 - that aside, however, the important part of this post is the material used to make plasma in the first place, and with the PIG that’s pellets of cadmium telluride

games always tote plasma as this super high end energy weapon, uses energy cells, batteries - power to fire, but that’s simply not the case

plasma is a state of matter, and like any other solid, liquid, or gas, there’s different kinds of matter that can become plasma, and not all plasma will perform the same nor be equally fit for the task

take lighting, for example - we use neon to generate plasma, which is what neon signs are all about; it’s already a gas, just needs electricity to hit that glow, and it doesn’t have to be super dense to make all that light

if you tried to use, say, argon for example, you’d have twice as much density, twice as much mass, and twice as much weight as the same amount of neon which then makes it more impractical to use as a light source - and that’s not considering the difference in energy required to make argon hit plasma versus neon

this said, it’s not too important at that level whereas things get a bit more complex when you want to use plasma as a weapon

take star wars and it’s tibanna fueled blasters, for example

here we have the typical stormtrooper blaster - the classic e11, courtesy of google and wookieepedia

in the event that you were unaware, star wars blasters take one of two things to function, those being power and tibanna gas which i’d guess is converted into plasma by adding energy from the powerpack

now as far as star wars goes there seems to be enough tibanna in there for all the shots you’d ever need in the field, never seem to need reloading - come to think of it have you ever seen a clone trooper load his weapon outside of republic commando’s blaster rifle, or the animated clone wars?

regardless what i’m getting at is star wars somehow packs enough tibanna in there and enough energy to create large, relatively slow, and lethal bolts of plasma in combat and without the need to ever really reload

star wars is basically science fantasy, but realistically speaking that gas would have to be of exceptionally low density to be packed in there at large quantities with little weight impact, and the more you pack the higher the pressure rises - and the higher that pressure is, the more you risk by dropping or damaging the weapon

imagine that every storm trooper carried a propane tank in their weapon, and imagine what would happen if one of them tripped and sprung a leak in that tiny super pressurized tank

not pretty for mister stormie

as far as the theoretical density of this material goes it’s definitely heavier than air otherwise it’d be swirling around cloud city, a population center whose primary export seems to be tibanna gas mined from the gas giant of bespin

for reference, oxygen’s density is around 1.4 grams, nitrogen is a little lighter, and CO2 i believe is around 2.25 (around the neighborhood of propane); therefore, tibanna if below the human-breathable atmosphere layer on bespin would have a higher density and as a result be heavier per unit than propane, which then makes it more unwieldy; that said, this is not necessarily a bad thing for the projectile

aside from the weight and safety issues that would arise with packing so much material into such a tiny space there’s also the matter of weapon effectiveness to consider; for example, neon gas would be inferior to theoretical tibanna because it’s ligher or less dense than the atmosphere it’d usually travel through; a somewhat fitting example would be like trying to throw an air-filled ball through the water - the projectile, less dense than the volume it’s traveling through, will bleed off more energy trying to get through and will actually be pulled up in this case due to basic buoyancy

replace ball with neon plasma and water with air and you get the effect of a brief flash of light sort of just slowing down and dispersing like a cloud of smoke being pulled upwards

tibanna at least has the precedent of being heavier than air, allowing it to at least not get screwed by buoyancy - but then there’s it’s low speed to consider, how sluggishly it travels through the air compared to the ‘primitive’ slugthrowers

considering then the low speed and presumably low or at least workable-and-light-even-with-pistols density/weight of the blasters you would think that they wouldn’t hit hard, and would get the bulk of their power out of the heat transferred to the target

and then you get this

there have been others to apply hard calculations to this but you can’t even get that kind of flinging force from bullets short of the big stuff

force equals mass times acceleration and tibanna seemed like it had neither of those on it’s side but apparently it has one of those in stupid high quantity

it’s definitely not speed, which then implies it’s got to be the mass - and that then retroactively implies the blasters are all stupid heavy now

however this then ignores the inherent thermal energy of the blaster bolt - i guess in theory you could impart enough energy so rapidly that it does fling tr8r to the ground like anakin’s arms and legs, but if you’ve got that kind of energy at your disposal why not just use straight up lasers

and none of that fake laser stuff turbolasers perpetuate

continuing on, the low mass and speed of a blaster would logically limit it’s range stupidly, as the plasma would slow and disperse as it would not have the inertia necessary to continue to carve through the air to the target, regardless of super high heat per shot

however if the bolt gets even a bit of it’s power from the density, the mass of the projectile, then despite the implications it has for the weight and handling of the weapons, the density would make the actual bolts far more feasible

so in review now with delusions of realism applied to star wars blasters tibanna would have to be of high density and contained at hazardous pressures within the weapon to have the power and capacity demonstrated in the films - or otherwise be contained at high pressure and gain the bulk of it’s killing power by being superheated to a point where it can fling stormtroopers around like windu beats droids

i mean it’s plasma so the latter is kind of the point, but only to an extent

there are other things to consider when using a gas such as tibanna as your plasma reaction mass

for example, what kind of material and how much of that material are you using to store it, what is the state of that material in extreme conditions, how do you refill that in the field - and that last one makes me picture world war two flamethrower incidents, except with more laserbeams to accompany the big backpack gas tanks

oh tibanna’s volatile too isn’t it that just makes it even better

now, going back to aliens and the PIG, instead of tibanna we have cadmium telluride pellets - solid at room temperature, used already in solar panels, density of somewhere above five grams per centimeter i believe

comparing the solid to a gas, in a few points:

you don’t have to worry about pressure containment because it won’t explode if you trip; transportation is then a non issue, and while you would need to use magazines you don’t have to use a pressurized tank to refill the gun, nor would you have to worry about containing a mini superdense propane tank in your weapon

you have a more solid grasp on ammo expenditure and reloading is a risk free operation compared to connecting tubes and watching meters

you don’t need to mine gas giants to feed the gun

the solid is inherently usable in cold environments because the weapon was meant to take a solid in the first place, whereas gas may condense into liquid or even freeze into a solid, both of which would be relatively unusable for a gun meant for gas

both the solid and the gas would require energy, and while in theory the solid would need more to jump to plasma it’d be much safer and practical i’d say to use it over natural state gas which introduces inherent risks and design constraints to begin with

i do want to go back to density and force but those are subject to specific materials involved - that said, solids i think would be more effective as plasma because they would inherently be hotter as plasma

in simpler terms

which one of these is solid at room temperature

the block of iron, or the block of neon

the winner will inherently require more energy to become a gas and then even more to become a plasma, which would then increase the potential lethality through proximity alone, not even considering the mass, speed, or force of the projectile

so basically plasma is not a pure energy weapon type and it requires ammo - plasma is a state of matter, and you need mass of some kind for it

out of the masses you could use for plasma, gas in my opinion would be the inferior choice due to inferior power offered and complicated storage

solids in comparison seem to be inherently better suited as the ammunition

oh and i did forget to mention that storing vaporized solids is a stupid thing because you’d have to constantly heat them which then turns them into a gas but even worse as far as resources and safety goes

imagine if your star wars blaster had a constant superheater on with your volatile super pressurized mini propane tank that you’re already trying to heat to shoot plasma at people

that’s the kind of thing you’d be carrying around

i think that’s about it for this ramble, at least for now

now the real surprise will be if someone actually reads this

tl;dr plasma is not laser beams and it needs ammo to function

also star wars plasma is (obviously) a bad representation

[evenstevensranked]

#25: Season 1, Episode 12 - “Deep Chocolate”

LET THE TOP 25 COMMENCE!!! 

Louis and Twitty’s friendship is put to the test when they end up competing against each other in the school chocolate sale. Meanwhile, Ren has made a deal with her parents to be nice to Louis for a week in order to get her own phone line. 

This one opens with Ren giving a presentation to Steve and Eileen on why she deserves her own phone line. Yes, phone line. As in... a LANDLINE. Crazy how today she probably would’ve already had her own iPhone since the ripe ‘ol age of 8! But, yes. It’s 2000 and Ren wants her own landline in her bedroom. 

Louis interrupts the presentation by running through the kitchen like a tornado and Ren naturally starts complaining about him. That’s when Eileen gets the smart idea to give Ren some incentive “If you can not put your brother down for a whole week, we will give you your own phone line.” Good idea, tbh. 

Cut to school where Louis, Twitty and Tawny are in the auditorium for a chocolate sale assembly. This is one of my favorite bits ever omg. A rip-off of the 20th Century Fox jingle plays as this scam artist with a rats tail hairdo(n’t) named Wallace Randall from Real Good Chocolate Industries walks out on stage. He tries way too hard to motivate the kids -- telling bold-faced lies like “Zeus sold chocolate!” Sounds legit. He announces that the grand prize is this fancy motorized scooter with a cheetah print butt seat. Snazzy. Mr. Randall says the person who believes they were put on planet earth to sell chocolate is the person who’ll be the top seller and win the prize. Louis' mind is so clouded by the scooter, he feels the spirit. 

I always crack up when Louis dramatically mumbles “that’s why I’m here...” to himself. I also love how Mr. Randall uses Shaq in “KAZAAM” -- a cinematic classic that boasts a 6% rating on Rotten Tomatoes -- as an impressive example.  

Louis really, really wants that scooter. So he decides that he and Twitty should team up to sell 400 freakin’ boxes, ensuring that they’ll be the top sellers. Yeah, I don’t remember chocolate sales working like that? I remember every student was given a suitcase-size box of assorted chocolates and that’s it. What the hell is this 400 boxes nonsense?! Then again, I mostly remember doing the Hershey’s Fundraising sale. Obviously, this episode is a spoof on the “World’s Finest Chocolate” brand -- which I definitely remember selling at one point, too. I checked their website and it seems like they cap it at 25 boxes, although you CAN order more than that if you want. But, who would??? 400 IS SUCH A STRETCH. 

I tried to check out with 400 boxes, and it said “TOO MANY ITEMS IN CART” ..........ya don’t say. Imagine paying $12,000 for chocolate. 

Ren struggles to be nice to Louis throughout the week. It’s pretty funny. She’s constantly yelling at him, and then following it up with an awkward compliment lol. She also thinks selling 400 boxes is asinine “You actually think you’re going to sell 400 boxes? You are a total and complete........ i...nspiration to all of us.” Good save, Ren. 

The next day Louis and Twitty are at the Stevens house trying to come up with creative (and insincere) ways to sell their 400 boxes, trying make the product seem amazing to prospective buyers. I think this is freaking hilarious. Louis says “I hand you the chocolate, you eat it, and then you say...” Twitty looks at his hand for the words “It’s a miracle. I can see again” which he repeats super robotically. Louis kills me here. “No... that’s not what ya say. ‘Cause you were blind -- and now you can see. That’s a miracle!!! YOU CAN SEE NOW.” He says that Mr. Randall said you have to make people feel that chocolate has changed your life. So Twitty dramatically falls to the ground shouting “IT’S A MIRACLEEEEE! I CAN SEE AGAINNNNNN AHHHHH!” and I die every time.

I’m pretty sure if one bite of chocolate could restore your eyesight, it would cost a little more than $1 per bar. 

Just then, Mr. Randall unexpectedly visits to personally deliver and congratulate them for setting out to sell an ambitious 800 BOXES. Yeah. Turns out Louis ordered 400 boxes and Twitty also ordered 400 boxes. So now they’re stuck with 800 boxes they obviously will never be able to sell. This is where the drama really strikes. I love Louis’ face when he realizes the problem: 

That zoom in, lol. It needed to be gif’d. 

Mr. Randall goes on to tell them they’re financially responsible for every box they ordered. Are you kidding me? That’s roughly $24k according to the World’s Finest prices. They’re 13. I love how Twitty says the title of the episode here! “Louis, we’re in deep...... chocolate” haha. Louis gets super angry at Twitty for ordering 400 boxes without consulting him because that’s how all the great duos work according to Louis Stevens: “Batman, he rescues people. And Robin... Robin... checks with Batman before he orders 400 boxes of chocolate!!!” I love that line. This leads to an all out war between Louis and Twitty. Louis takes his 400 boxes, and Twitty takes his. They’re officially competing against each other now. Twitty even says “this friendship is over!” Yikes. Let’s take a moment to appreciate Twitty’s face as he tries to talk while carrying large boxes tho:

The next day, Louis wakes up to find his family tap dancing in the living room. The usual. He’s up at 6am ready to start selling some chocolate, but Twitty is way ahead of him. Eileen already bought 6 bars from Twitty not knowing that they’re no longer working as a team! I love two things about this scene. Louis says “Me and Twitty had creative differences -- Because I’m creative and he’s different,” which is incredible. I’ve used this line irl before. And the second is Steve tap dancing while passive aggressively telling Louis to get his 400 boxes of chocolate out of the garage so he can have his parking space back. 

“I’m not gonna ask you again... *jazz hands* GET THEM OUTTA THERE!” Tom Virtue is hilarious. 

Louis then sets out on his chocolate selling mission and he’s absolutely terrible at it. He’s breaking into people’s homes, jumping on their beds... I can’t. Meanwhile, Twitty is THRIVING and coming up with much more creative ideas than Louis. Which is ironic because Louis just said HE’S the creative one, lol. Twitty’s ideas include a tricycle cart shop and a “Chocopalooza” performance -- a spoof on Lollapalooza obviously. 

Not sure how his fake Jamaican accent and hat with mock-dreads would go over today though. 

Twitty’s raking it in, and Louis has yet to sell one bar. He goes to Tawny for help but she refuses to buy from either of them because 1. The chocolate tastes like dirt and 2. they’re ruining their friendship over nothing basically. 

I love how Louis has a girl take a bite of the chocolate and asks her “Is that the best chocolate bar you’ve ever eaten?” and she says “That’s NOT the best chocolate bar I’ve ever eaten.” World’s Finest happens to be quite nasty tasting too apparently. Well, according to their Amazon reviews at least. So this episode is pretty much true-to-life all around, lol. 

Back at home, Donnie has turned their bathroom into a steaming hot sauna. This ain’t good because he blasted the hot water heater to do so. Which happens to be located in the garage.......... where 400 boxes of chocolate are stashed. 

It’s like that trope where someone puts too much soap in the washing machine and then leaves it unattended... except with chocolate, because this is Even Stevens. 

Louis and Ren notice some chocolate leaking into the driveway and panic. I mean, how do you stop 400 boxes of melting chocolate? “WE GOTTA EAT IT!!!!” is Louis’ suggestion, which is so funny omg. The chocolate leaks EVERYWHERE and we get this terrible CGI aerial shot to prove it: 

Mr. Randall decides to conveniently show up here and demands money for the chocolate. Of course, Louis doesn’t have the money. Steve comes waltzing over as well and both he and Mr. Randall start slippin and slidin all over the place. It’s a little annoying but... hey. Steve, being an attorney, threatens to shut down Real Good Chocolate for being a scam. One thing I do not understand: Steve says that Mr. Randall will get his money back. (WHY?! I’d refuse.) And he also tells Louis that he’ll be doing chores for the next few months to pay for the chocolate. Does he mean he’ll be doing chores for the entire neighborhood? No amount of chores would raise the $1,000s of dollars Louis needs, lol. (Again, I’m overthinking this. I know.) 

Naturally, everything works out in the end though. Louis and Twitty make up. Twitty ends up winning the sale and gets the fancy scooter, which Louis is cool with because he at least gets to ride it now. 

The last minute of the episode is Ren talking on her ~new private phone line~! Except it ain’t so private. Louis has rigged her conversations to be broadcast through two megaphones outside. 

I love how everyone and their cousin decided to walk through this residential neighborhood right as Ren declares she has a “major crush on Bobby Deaver.”

And that’s it! I just really like this episode. I always have. Idk what it is about it! There are quite a few things I find hilarious, which I’ve mentioned here. This one went by lightening fast when I was re-watching it, which can only mean one thing to me: It’s entertaining! I like how this episode actually deals with Louis and Twitty’s friendship as well as a bit of the sibling rivalry between Louis and Ren. I just think this one is solid all around and a good one to kick off the Top 25! Ayyyyy! Can’t believe we’re at the Top 25. Wow. 

Thanks for reading!!

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