#i gotta admit I gave up on blocking and reporting a while ago since it's just CONSTANT bots

[mokeonn]

I think the worst part about the recent bot problems is my follower count increased by over 300 this week (it's wednesday) and I cannot keep up with blocking bots because most of the icons are default and they're untitled:

Like??? Half of these are bots and half of them are debatable or actual people. Blocking and reporting 70 bots a day is already a chore, but having to filter through this to make sure I'm not blocking real people? I think at this rate, I am just gonna let the bots stay.

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Pressing Issues

*Dick Grayson x Reader

*Summary: Detective Dick Grayson has never been annoyed by another person as much as journalist Reader.

*Warnings: Swearing, talks of gun violence (relevant to a case Dick is working on), mention of robbery (case mention), cop stuff. Let me know if I missed anything.

*A/N: I made a post talking about this idea a while ago and finally wrote it.

Tip Jar

**********

When Detective Dick Grayson stepped on the scene, he didn’t expect anything different from what was told to him on the way there. He went about doing his thing - talking to the officers on the scene, chatting with CSI - when he heard his partner let out an exaggerated groan. Dick looked over, confused at the noise. His partner just rolled his eyes, nodding towards a woman with a press badge. “Man, why’d they send her?”

“Who’s that?” Dick asked. He’d never seen her before, but she was definitely attractive. He’d had a few press statements on other cases, and he never really saw the issue with the press. Maybe that was just from growing up around Bruce and all the media attention that brought, but the journalists he’d spoken to in Bludhaven had never been rude to him.

“That’s (y/n), she’s a monster.” His partner provided no further explanation as the woman walked up to them.

“I’m sorry, Miss, but you can’t be on the scene,” Dick immediately said. He was surprised the other officers didn’t stop her at the tape.

“Right, but those officers weren’t giving me any answers,” she told him. His partner let out a laugh.

“Grayson, you can deal with her, just get her out of the tape,” his partner said.

“Rodriguez, always nice to see you.” She smiled at his partner, but her tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Haven’t gotten any better at your job since the last time we spoke, have you?”

“Grayson, get her out of here.” Rodriguez lost any amusement he had with the woman, and Dick knew he should get the journalist out of there before things escalated even further. Dick led her away from the scene, right to the edge of the tape but away from the small crowd that were always nosing around scenes.

“Detective Richard Grayson, how can I help you out?”

“(Y/n) (L/n), lead crime journalist for the Bludhaven Gazette. I wanted to get a feel for the scene before we put anything out about it,” she explained. “Anything you can share about what happened?”

“Alright, well we have two males hit in a drive-by, one dead on the scene. We don’t know much about motives or anything, but we’re suspecting rival gangs based on the fact this happened in a grey-zone,” Dick told her. It would be vague enough to satisfy her readers, but didn’t put anything too speculative out there. She was shaking her head as she wrote down what he said. “Wait, what’s all that about?”

“What?”

“The head shaking? What, you don’t agree with the police statement?” Dick was trying to joke with her, but he was still confused.

“It’s not a grey-zone, but I wouldn’t expect the cops to know that,” she said, challenging him. Dick tried to think back to his nightly activities, trying to figure out if he missed anything with how the city was divided. As far as he knew, this area was unclaimed. “Right, so that’s it?”

“Well, yeah. We just got on the scene not too long ago.” She just hummed, and he wasn’t sure if it was in acknowledgement or disapproval. “Hey, what’s your beef with Rodriguez?”

“For a Detective, he’s shit at his job,” she told him, clicking her pen as she put it back in her bag.

“Care to elaborate?”

“A kid got snatched, broad daylight, and Rodriguez was the lead on the case. Gave up after a few days. I dunno where you’re from, but where I’m from, we don’t give up like that, especially on a kid,” she said. “I wrote articles talking about it, and Rodriguez doesn’t like me because I called him out on it.”

“Wow, you’re pretty cutthroat,” Dick said, whistling lowly.

“I just don’t give you guys any slack. Be good at your job and you have nothing to worry about.” She smiled at him before turning on her heel and walking away. He watched as she put her phone to her ear, probably talking to someone back at the office. She scared him a little, but he was always up for the challenge.

**********

Rodriguez was right. Dick was always down for accountability, but the way you brought it into his life was a bit much. Every time there was even the slightest hint of a development, you were there with your opinions about what he was doing wrong, and if you ever had any praise for him, it was so sparse he couldn’t even tell it was praise. He was just trying to look through some files to piece together your little cryptic ‘it’s not a grey-zone’ hint, when Rodriguez tapped on his desk.

“What’s up?” He asked, looking up at his partner.

“You got a visitor.”

“God, don’t tell me…”

“Surprise, your worst nightmare is here, Grayson.”

“Aw, I got a new nickname?” You asked Rodriguez as you dropped in the chair next to Dick’s desk. Dick had to stop the groan from escaping him, really not wanting to deal with you.

“She’s your problem now,” Rodriguez said, walking away. Dick almost wished he could go with him.

“Alright, (L/n), what is it now?” Dick asked, putting down his files.

“You have ID on one of the victims and it was a guy with no connections to anything on the Underground, but no progress on the shooter? C’mon, Grayson, I thought you’d at least be better than Rodriguez.”

“I’m working with what I have,” he huffed, fighting the way he wanted to roll his eyes.

“You’re not looking at all your options. Put away the gang files, they’re not the ones you should be looking at,” you almost ordered him. “I’m practically doing your job for you at this point. I gotta run, I have an interview.”

“You’re leaving the Gazette?” Dick was almost hopeful. That would definitely make things easier on him.

“No, smart one, I’m the one doing the interviewing.”

“Wow, who would’ve guessed with your shining personality,” Dick shot back, finally annoyed.

“I’m a ray of sunshine, just not with cops,” you said with your fake little smile before leaving him there. It took everything to not slam his head against his desk.

**********

Dick always thought he was good under pressure, but this was intense. With your little article that came out the day after you talked to him - apparently your interview was with the victim’s wife - public pressure was increasing on the department tenfold. He hated to admit it, but you were good at what you did. He was almost pissed off at himself after reading the article, and that was saying something.

He needed to close this case so he could get you off his back, and he needed to do it fast. Not only did you put pressure on the department, now his superiors were putting even more pressure on him. He knew you were cryptic with what you knew, but you wanted him to put together the pieces. When he was out for his nightly patrol, he was trying to piece together what little hints you dropped.

Dick had to admitted he was silently fuming as he sat on the rooftop across from the scene of the crime. After all, what did you know? It’s not like you had access to the databases he did, both legally and in the legally grey. What did she mean it’s not gang-related? It has to be, this is disputed territory right now. 

And of course something sketchy had to happen while he was doubting you. A black town car pulled up to the block, someone getting out of the passenger seat and scanning the area before going back to talk to someone in the back. Dick cursed as he grabbed his binoculars, trying to watch the scene closer to see if he could get any more information from the sketchy scene. He zoomed in on the man in the backseat, a guy dressed in an expensive-looking suit wearing sunglasses at night (like an asshole), silver rings adorning his fingers.

“No way,” Dick mumbled, taking a picture of the rings to send to Barbara later. One of them in particular looked familiar, but he couldn’t exactly place it. “How the hell did she…”

After whoever it was seemed satisfied with how the scene looked, the person got back into the car and it pulled off, the tires screeching in the quiet of the night. As soon as Dick finished his patrols for the night, he sent the picture off to Barbara. She called him as soon as she ran the picture. “Hey, where’d you see this guy?”

“By the scene of that drive-by a couple weeks ago,” Dick explained. “I recognize that big ring he’s wearing on his middle finger, but I have no idea where from. Can you help me out?”

“Yeah, that’s a Baglio family ring,” she told him. “I can’t get an ID on the guy, but you remember that Italian family we were having trouble with out here? Same family.”

“Damn, she was right then. Technically not gang related. Hey, does the mob count as a gang?”

“I mean, technically, but they aren’t really recognized as gangs when it comes to like popular recognition. Does that really matter, though?”

“It’s a matter of me being technically right, so yes.”

“You’re annoying, has anyone told you that lately?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Okay, good talk then.”

**********

Actually having a solid lead meant that he was able to close the case a lot sooner than he previously thought. Sure, he wasn’t able to actually bag whoever was in the back of the town car, but he was able to track down the shooters. At the press conference announcing the arrest of the shooters, he could see you right there in the front row with the other reporters. Dick caught your gaze for a second, and he almost missed the small nod of approval you gave him. For a moment, he thought he’d finally get on your good side again.

Then again, the peace could only last for so long. Every single case he was on, he could bet there was an article about it soon to follow. You’d appear at every crime scene, moving on from antagonizing Rodriguez to finding Dick and immediately bothering him. You’d drop your little cryptic hints when he was having trouble with cases, and somehow they’d actually be useful once he decoded them. The thing that probably bugged him the most was how you managed to get to his desk almost every day he was working on particularly difficult cases. You never let him get to the point of forgetting about cases, especially for the ones that involved people that stayed away from the Underground.

He could understand not wanting cases to go cold, but the fact that you were coming into the precinct every single day to bug him about developments was a bit much. Dick could handle a healthy amount of shit talking, but there was just something about your shit talking that got him on edge. Everything about you just got under his skin, and seeing you so often was really not helping that out. It got to the point where he started trying to avoid you just to keep his sanity.

“Grayson, (L/n) just got on the scene, you wanna run?” Rodriguez asked as soon as he spotted you talking to the officers at the tape. Dick quickly looked around, trying to find someplace he could disappear to. The only real option would be to go look like he was talking to the CSI team, but he didn’t want to disturb them actually doing their jobs. Before he could make a decision, you were already approaching.

“Grayson, stop running from me. You know I know where you work,” you called out to him.

“I should really get you banned from the precinct,” he shot back, a small frown on his face. 

“You know you’d get bored without me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So, whatcha got for me?”

“Why are you talking like you’re on this case? Technically I don’t have to tell you anything more than the other officers told you.”

“So what I’m hearing is go ahead and write whatever I want.”

“For fuck’s sake-”

“Ooo, that’s the first time I’ve heard you curse. I like it. So, what’s the news?”

“It’s a robbery, one injured, but we have a couple witnesses and it sounds like we have a pretty solid perp description. We’re just waiting for the witnesses to meet with the sketch artist and then we’re sending out the sketch to the papers and news outlets,” Dick told you. “There, satisfied?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. Glad this one’s an easy one, I’d hate to have to write about you again,” you told him, turning around with a small smile on your face. “See you later, Grayson.”

“I sure hope not,” he decided to call after you. He could faintly hear your laugh, but the thing that caught his attention was the fact that you decided to flip him off as you walked away. Dick froze for a second, not sure if he should be highly amused or pissed off. He settled for somewhere in the middle, leaning more towards being pissed off.

When you put out your article, it was a simple, tell the details, share the perp sketch type of article. Dick was pleasantly surprised that there were no real call outs about him; as a matter of fact, his name was only mentioned once with the request that anyone who sees or has information about the suspect contact the tip-line immediately. He smiled at his laptop, taking the lack of criticism as praise. He was even willing to take the shit talking from Rodriguez, because as far as he was concerned, Rodriguez was just jealous that he never got this type of reaction from you.

**********

Dick didn’t realize he actually somewhat enjoyed your company - if he could call it that - until you stopped bothering him. You moved on from targeting him, bugging other detectives and officers about their open cases. He would hear complaints, as well as some pretty unsavory things, about you from the people you were bothering, and he was surprised about the amount of times he almost jumped to your defense. You were the biggest pain in his ass - constantly bugging him about his cases and making sure that he didn’t forget about your existence - so why did your disappearance bother him so much?

He got used to seeing you around the precinct (just not talking to him), but then he noticed when you stopped showing up. You didn’t show up to crime scenes, you didn’t show up to the precinct, you just weren’t there anymore, and that worried him. He tried asking around about you, seeing if maybe you were there and he just didn’t happen to run into you, but he met the same response: relief that you’d stopped coming around. It got to the point where he was checking the Bludhaven Gazette’s website to see if you’d written any new articles. Nothing.

Dick figured there’d be no way to really contact you; it wasn’t like he could just call your job and be like ‘hey, why isn’t this journalist bothering me anymore?’. He tried pushing you to the back of his mind, but he found himself still looking for you. It annoyed him - even when you weren’t there, you still managed to find a way to bug him. Before he knew it, a month had passed without seeing you. Then, as he was trying to schmooze up to a DA at the Policeman’s Ball, he could hear the telltale groan of another officer. You were there.

Sure enough, there you were in a black cocktail dress, a flute of champagne in hand, talking to someone he vaguely recognized from a different precinct. He wanted to excuse himself from his conversation just to see where the hell you’d been, but he knew he couldn’t risk it. He’d just have to find you later.

Then you slipped away yet again. Dick kept seeing glimpses of you here and there, but he could never catch up to you. It wasn’t until you went to the bar that Dick finally found his opening. You were talking to someone, but he didn’t really care at the moment. He slid up beside you at the bar, ordering a drink. He could see you straighten up at the sound of his voice, knowing he had your attention. As he took a drink of the whiskey in his cup, he turned to look at you.

You were a lot more done up than you normally were when you were working, but he couldn’t say he strongly preferred either. You looked amazing either way, just in different ways. “(L/n), funny running into you here.”

“Grayson,” you greeted, taking a sip of your own drink. “I can hardly believe this is an accident considering the way you’ve been watching me all night.”

That took him off guard, just enough to make him choke on his drink for a second. As soon as he regained his composure, he tried to figure out how to come back from his blunder. “Well, yeah. I thought I was seeing a ghost considering how you just disappeared.”

Not his best work, but you gave an amused smile so he would count it as a win. “Aw, you missed me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. It was just weird not being bothered every second of my work day.” You tipped your glass back, the last of your drink passing your lips. He watched as you swallowed before putting the glass back on the counter, leaving some bills folded under it.

“Ah, I see. Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Grayson.” You stood from your seat, giving him one last look before turning to disappear back into the crowd. Dick would have to work fast if he wanted to catch up to you before you slipped through his fingers yet again. He paid for his drink and left a tip as fast as he could, scanning through the crowd for you again. You were about to disappear down the hallway towards the bathrooms, and he still had to make his way through the crowd as politely as possible while also avoiding conversation. Damn social conventions. 

You walked down the hall, wanting to escape to the bathroom for a few minutes to compose yourself, when you felt a hand around your wrist. You whipped around, not knowing who would be daring enough in a room full of police, just to see the last person you wanted to. “Grayson, let go of me.”

“No,” his voice was firm before he realized it must’ve been a little jarring to just get grabbed. “Sorry, but no.”

“What do you want?”

“Why are you even here?”

“It’s my job. I’m reporting on this damn thing,” you practically hissed, trying again to tug your wrist free from his hold. “Why do you care so much?”

“You’ve been MIA for a month and then suddenly you just appear here of all places? What gives?” He said, stepping towards you. You took a step back, trying to keep the distance, but your back just hit the wall behind you. You were forced to look up at him, the storm in his blue eyes surprising you. Why did it matter so much?

“I got sick, alright? My editor thought this would be an easy returner,” you snapped, trying to maintain your glare with him. It was a little difficult with how close he was to not get flustered, but you did what you needed to. “Why, did you miss me?”

You could tell that pissed him off by the smallest flare of his nose, but before you could take in the victory, he hit his arm on the wall above you. He kept it there, trapping you between his body and the wall. He wasn’t pressed against you just yet, but you wouldn’t be opposed to it if it was. “Why do you like pissing me off so much?”

He really didn’t see the opportunity he presented you with. You grabbed his tie the slightest bit, giving him the chance to pull away if he wanted to. When he didn’t, you used it to pull him down to your eye level. “Have you ever considered how fun it is?”

There was a moment of pure silence between the two of you, the faint noise of the party still going on just down the hall reminding you that you weren’t actually alone. Your gaze flicked down to his lips for just a moment, and then it was over. You don’t know who closed the distance first, but it didn’t really matter. The kiss was heated from the beginning, messy with tongue and teeth but you weren’t going to complain about it. Your hold on his tie tightened, pulling him closer to you. Dick’s arm moved from pressed against the wall above you, one hand fisting in your hair and the other wrapping around your waist to pull your body against him.

“God, I hate you,” Dick panted soon after he broke the kiss.

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t?” You tried teasing, even though your voice was a lot more airy than you would care to admit.

“You annoy the hell out of me.”

“I’m a journalist that doesn’t give cops any wiggle room, of course I do.” He rolled his eyes, making you smile. You pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “But you still missed me.”

“I guess I did. Do you maybe wanna get out of here?” You raised your brow, knowing he had to know how that sounded. It took him a second, but it finally clicked. “Not like that! Get some food or something. You probably aren’t annoying all the time.”

“You underestimate me,” you joked, making him smile. He has a pretty smile. “But I’ll take you up on that. Just make sure you behave yourself.”

“You’re the one who kissed me!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You freed yourself from his arms, making your way back down the hallway towards the exit. It took him a second, but you heard Dick following close behind. He pressed a hand to the small of your back, making sure you wouldn’t slip from his fingers again.

**********

Dress Inspiration

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @laic2299, @delaber

[panic-at-the-fiction]

Hello Darling pt5

Summary: (y/n) is the Salvatore younger sister, and she is low-key in love with one of the originals. You know which one. The only problem is he is a low-key psychopath and neither of them remember that this isn’t their first meeting.

Warnings: I might be heading in a dark path with this one.

A/N: So like I wrote the first four chapters a month ago and now I gotta get back into writing more often. Though I have been waiting to write this chapter for a while. I’m pretty excited about it. Though I do have to admit I’m not as into our beloved kol as I was when I started this. But don’t worry I will keep writing for our dear boy.

You were woken up by the bright sun shining in your eyes. You rolled over to see your room a complete mess. There were clothes everywhere, things knocked over onto the floor. It was a shock to you. You couldn’t quite remember why your room was such a wreck. It wasn’t until you took a closer look at who’s clothes were on the floor that you realized what had happened.

It all slowly came back to you, the bar, the drinking, the stumbling through your apartment running into things. You couldn’t help but smile at the memory of it all. You and Kol drunkenly making out and laughing as you ran down the halls before stumbling to get your keys.

Kol, It wasn’t until you realized his absence that you heard the shower running in your bathroom. You smiled at the realization of Kol still being in your house. You hated to admit it but you liked him more than you should. Maybe he felt the same. Neither of you we’re the dating types but maybe things could work out for you both. Maybe if you...

A loud knock took you out of your thoughts. It was your older brother Stefan calling for you to answer the door. You quickly grabbed the closest clothes to you and threw them on. You ran to open the door but not before shutting the door to your bedroom in hopes of hiding the events of last night.

You opened the door and blocked your brother from seeing or entering the rest of your home. He looked you up and down taking in your appearance. He stopped, “nice shirt, is it new?”

You hadn’t even noticed that you had grabbed Kols shirt and not one of your own to throw on. You tried to drop it and hoped he would move on. “Hey Stefan, what are you doing here?”

“Oh I'm just on my morning rounds apologizing to people for whatever Damon did yesterday to upset them and of course I also just wanted to talk to my favorite sister.” He tried to peek over your shoulder into your apartment but you moved to block his view.

You rolled your eyes “I’m you only sister Stefan. Anyways it’s great you stopped by, but seriously though it wasn’t needed.” You tried to shut the door but before you could stop him he pushed past you and into your house.

“I see you’ve had some company.” He smiled and pointed at Kols jacket you had tossed onto the couch. “Hope I don’t know the poor bastard.” He smiled and set down. Making himself comfortable by placing his feet on the coffee table.

You pushed his feet down, grabbed the jacket and laid it on one of your dining room chairs. “It was just some guy I met at the bar last night you don’t know him.” Now you could have told Stefan about Kol. You had thought about it. It’s just ever since he’s last blood binge your brother has been different. He was cockier, if anything he was acting more like Damon. You couldn’t blame him. The past few months hadn’t been all that great for him. But things were better now he stopped drinking blood and now he had his humanity back on. Which was great and all but he was only doing good by pushing all his feelings down and redirecting them as hatred for the Mikaelsons specifically Klaus. Either way you knew he would just go back and tell Damon what he saw and you really didn’t want to deal with that.

You turned to ask your brother to leave when you heard the loud screech of the shower being turned off. Stefan turned and laughed at you. “Ohh your boyfriends still here isn’t he?”

You gave him a cold stare for his comment and he took the hint that you wanted him to leave. He got up from the couch and headed to the door. “Guess that’s my cue to go then. If you need anything sis you know where to find me.” With that he walked out of your apartment.

Once he was gone kol stepped out of your bedroom. He’s hair was still wet and he already had on his pants from last night. He smiled when he saw you standing in the living room. “Well I guess I’ve found my shirt then.”

You let out a sigh of relief and laughed. “So I’m just some guy you met at a bar now?” He took a few steps towards you.

“Oh you heard all that. I'm sorry I just didn’t want to tell my brother because in this town everyone will know and then I’ll have to deal with the judgmental police. Elena, Damon, and Caroline will all show up at my door with an intervention sign to tell me that sleeping with you was a mistake and then make a list of why the whole town should be against you and your family.” You couldn't help yourself from rambling on. This town was frustrating. No one in this town makes their own decisions without someone showing up to tell you off.

You were so lost in your own ramblings you didn’t notice how close kol has gotten to you. “ I hope you don’t actually think sleeping together was a mistake” He moves to rest his hands on your hips.

You smiled and looked up at him, trying to enjoy his hand on you. “I don't, I just know how this town works. Everyone’s decisions are taken very personally by everyone else. I can’t pick a brand of milk without Elena Gilbert getting on my ass about it. She’s the worst of the town. Just before you showed up I only had two friends in this town, Matt, whom we both know you have already met and Jeremy Elena’s brother. Three weeks ago Elena had Damon compel Jeremy to leave town and go to Denver to stay with family. I’ve been fighting with the two ever since.”

“I’m guessing my brother had something to do with that then?”

“Oh yes.” You put your arms around his shoulders. “I had fun last night.”

“Me too” he smiled and looked over your figure. “And I must say I love looking at you in my t-shirt, but I am going to need it back.”

You laughed and moved away from him and walked back to your room to get a clean shirt. You took off Kols and put on your new shirt. Kol watched you from your doorway. “I usually would stay longer but my brother needs me for some scheme of his so I have to get back to the mansion.” He quickly put his own tshirt back on and headed to grab his jacket from the chair you had laid it on. “I’ll call you whenever klaus is done using me as his errand boy. Hopefully we can do this again” he’s usually cocky demeanor back in full swing again.

You smiled to yourself thinking about seeing kol again. “I’m free again tonight if you want to meet at the grill again.”

“I guess I’ll see you then.” He smiled before leaving and closing the door behind him. Guess now all that was left was to wait for tonight.

Kols perspective

I left (y/n) apartment and headed back to the house. I couldn’t help but dread it. Thought of having to go back to my insane family and fix what was left after what our mother did last night. It wouldn’t be pretty that’s for sure.

I pushed open the front door of the mansion and walked into the drawing room where Klaus was waiting for me. “Hello Nicklaus”

“Hello Kol, you must have had a busy night. You never came home last night.” He had venom in his voice. I recognized his tone. It's his I know what you did and I’m angry about it voice. “My sources say you went home with the salvatore girl last night.”

“By sources you mean the abominations you call your pack.” I could see the anger bubbling inside him. It was good to know I did that. It’s none of his business what I’ve been up to.

Klaus took a deep breath “Kol I don’t think you should be seeing the Salvatore girl. Her brothers have been trying to kill our family for weeks now and I don’t know if you noticed they actually succeeded last night at killing one of us.”

Of course I knew this Finn was my brother too even if he was a boring suck up. “Really Klaus you're going to shame me using Finn's death to guilt me into something. Come on you can do better than that.” I turned to walk away hoping the conversation would be over now.

“Either way it doesn’t matter now I have something I need your help with Kol.” I stopped in my tracks and turned back around to listen to him. I hated helping Klaus but if I didn’t I knew he would just dagger me again. If Rebecca or Elijah had refused to help he would let it go or at least not stab them in the back, but them three were always together so you couldn’t expect less.

“We need to get the white oak stakes from the Salvatores. They have enough to kill all of us. I have my hybrids ready to kidnap their Bennett witch. I just need something as leverage to get her to cooperate. And I have someone in mind, Elena Gilbert’s brother Jeremy would definitely get the witch to work. I just need to find him. The Salvatores packed him up a few weeks ago so he could be safe. Since you're so close with one of the salvatores, maybe you might know where he is.”

I don’t know how he knew but he must have known about what (y/n) said to me. I’m sure if she knew klaus was looking for the other Gilbert she wouldn’t have told me where he was. It doesn't matter, it was her mistake not mine. If finding Jeremy Gilbert keeps Klaus happy and stops those brothers from killing my family then there’s no reason to keep this information from him, not even for some girl I’ve only met a few days ago. “Yeah I know where the Gilbert kid is. They shipped him off to Denver to stay with relatives.”

Klaus smiled and tossed me a set of keys I hadn’t seen before. “Great then you can go to Colorado and keep an eye on him. He doesn’t know who you are yet so you can report back to me on what he’s doing.” With that Klaus left.

I couldn’t believe he wanted me to go to Denver for his stupid plan. I was furious but I packed my bags anyway and took them out to the car. I didn’t really have much of a choice but to go along with his plan. It would keep me and my siblings alive. It was a smart plan, but why do I feel so guilty? I've done worse before and I’ve never felt guilty about those things. I mean (y/n) is just a girlI met a few days ago and it’s not like I haven’t already betrayed her in those few days. She shouldn’t mean anything to me anyways. But I feel as though I owe her at least an explanation before I go. I can’t explain it,but I feel like I can let my walls down around her as if I’ve known her for years. I have to put that aside. She can’t get in the way from now on I can’t let her distract me from anything.

Readers perspective

You sat at the bar like you usually did every night. You ordered your usual drink and waited for kol to show up like you had planned for. Only he didn’t show. Hours passed before it was starting to get late. 10:00 rolled around and fair enough a mikaelson did walk in the door just not the one you wanted to see.

Surprisingly Elijah took a seat on the bar stool beside you. “Do you mind if I sit here?” He asked ever so the polite one of the family. “I hate to be the bringer of bad news, but my brother kol has left town. Klaus has him doing some errand for him upstate. Before kol left he told me to come here and tell you he was gone and wouldn’t be back for a while.” Elijah turned to face you and he softened for a moment. “I hope you take my advice and stay away from my brother. Our family brings nothing but trouble to the people around us. He’s done this before to you I’m afraid but trust me you don’t want to get involved with any of us more than your brothers already have.”

With that Elijah got up and left you sitting alone. What did he mean by having done this to you before? He must have meant the ball where he attacked Matt but that doesn’t seem right. It didn’t really matter any ways you wanted an explanation from kol.

You grabbed your things and walked outside into the cold air. You pulled out your phone and called up kols number.

“Hello?”

“Really kol you skip town and you send your big brother to tell me you left. Could have just said you didn’t want to see each other again.” You laughed trying to sound like you weren’t upset that he left.

“(Y/n) I would have told you in person but this is something I have to do for klaus. I did want to see you again but it’s just gonna have to wait. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone but something tells me I’ll see you again. So how about I call you next time I’m in town?” He laughed and it all seemed so airy and fake. Not at all like the Kol you had been talking to before. “I have to go now. I’ve got a lot of driving to do. See you soon (y/n)”

Before you could say anything he hung up on you. Something felt off about him and the call. You just didn’t know what. It doesn’t matter anyway now he was just some guy. You had slept with guys and moved on like it was nothing before. You didn’t need some guy distracting you anyways. You would just have to go back to being left in this stupid town all alone again.

I hoped you guys liked this one I’m really glad the stories been doing this well. I’m sorry for the delay in writing. I had to get back in touch with my story and I was busy with Halloween so I was a little behind schedule but I hope that you liked this chapter.

[m-y-fandoms]

Peko Pekoyama x female reader fluff one-shot

Request: Heya, is it alright if I request Peko with a female, ultimate Zoologist reader who brings her to play with all the cute fluffy animals and helps them warm up to her? She deserves happiness

Coming right up! And yes!!! Peko does deserve happiness, gotta love her! 

- Mod Kokichi

     It had taken you forever...and I mean forever, to even get Peko’s attention. She was a very introverted person. She was diligent and dedicated to her job, which you knew about, much to her surprise. That was one of the things that actually piqued her interest in you in the first place. Peko didn’t want or have the opportunity to interact with people much in the first place, much less stupid ones, so when you quickly discovered she was Fuyuhiko’s eyes, ears, and protector, she was quite impressed, not that she’d let you know that last bit. She had, though, asked you how you found out as she walked back to her dorm one day after class, you trailing behind like a lovesick puppy.

     “Oh, well my eyes are always on you, how could I miss it?” You let slip and immediately covered your mouth with your hand, cheeks heating in embarrassment. Peko paused her swift walk, and felt her heart skip in what she assumed was a reaction to this awkward confession, a crooked grin on her face. You both stared at each other, before she resumed, a bit faster than before, adjusting the sword on her back and leaving you behind.

     “I have to go now, I have practice soon,” she spoke flatly, and you watched her as she left, scanning that athletic form and the swish of her uniform’s skirt as she left. Gosh...she was something.

     In the coming weeks, you often met her as soon as she left each class, the automated bell tone chiming to signal the period was over. Anyone else would’ve been startled, but not someone as poised and disciplined as her.

     “Peko!” You jumped off the wall you’d been leaning on silently for the past five minutes a little too excitedly. She stilled, Fuyuhiko gliding past her, looking at you both and scoffing lightly before walking down the hall to his next class.

     “Y/N...again.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why aren’t you in class, don’t you have Civic Engagement this period?” Your eyes widened, and you smiled blissfully. How did she know that? You hadn’t told her...maybe she was paying attention to you, too? Maybe she liked you back? Maybe...no you shouldn’t assume things. You took a deep breath.

     “I was wondering if you’d have lunch with me? I know you always have it with Fuyuhiko, b-but...uh…” She gave you an apathetic and absent look, shuffling her books to her other hand. “Nevermind. I can ask another time, I mean if you-“

     “Alright.”

     “W-what? Really? Well that’s...I didn’t think….okay, awesome!” You smiled widely, your feet dancing around wildly. She huffed, eyes closing in a small smile. You were kind of cute, she had to admit, so childlike and easily excitable, but she didn’t see why you were even interested in her. She didn’t do anything attractive to lure someone into a crush. She went to class, followed Fuyuhiko around, studied quietly, went to dueling practice at the school’s dojo, then went to bed. You hadn’t even seen her run any missions or small jobs for Fuyuhiko, so how could anything about her possibly catch your eye? She didn’t dress in any special way. She was a pasty girl with glasses. She didn’t feel insecure or self conscious about these facts, it was normal to her and shallow things like looks and attraction meant nothing, but she found your behavior unusual.

     “Yes, I just have to ask my Young Master if he will allow my absence for lunch, or if he needs me.” She spoke freely, knowing you already were keen to her bodyguard role, and with no one else close by, “I know where you usually sit at lunch, I’ll be there if I’m allowed. If I’m not there a after a few minutes, assume I couldn’t make it.” With that, she walked swiftly away, not waiting for a response.

     Oh wow...she was just...you swooned, walking to your locker.

     When she approached Fuyuhiko in the stairwell minutes later to ask for permission, he just shook his head, sighing.

     “Tch...how many times do I have to tell you? When school is in session, our professional relationship does not exist. Do what you want. You’re making it obvious! She knows, doesn’t she...Y/N?”

     “Young Master, I apologize. I didn’t intend for anyone to find ou-“

     “Stop calling me that!” He leaned his head down over the railing, making sure no one heard in the echoing environment of the stairwell. “Just go, have lunch with her, I’ll see you in last period anyway!” He huffed, taking a step down to make his exit.

     “But Young M- ...Fuyuhiko, I should-“

     “She likes you, yes?” She was caught off guard, a rare occurrence for her.

     “That is irrelevant to the issue.”

     “Ha...I knew it. Just go eat with her. I have work piling up so I’m skipping lunch to get that shit done, plus, sometimes she eats lunch with that other animal freak, Gundham, and I can’t stand being around him for more than five minutes once he starts going off about his demonic shit!” He gestured with his hands before descending the stairs.

     Peko stood there for a second, thinking. Animal freak, huh? Oh yeah...she remembered your ultimate talent, the Ultimate Zoologist. That was another thing about you she admired, loving animals herself despite never being around them. She shook off her thoughts, mechanically turning and reporting to lunch with you. You’d be waiting, eagerly, she was betting.

~

     You sat on one of the outside tables adjacent to Hope’s Peak Academy’s lunch room, full length glass windows providing a barrier to look from the cafeteria out into the courtyard dining area. You always sat outside unless it was raining, looking at the birds that flew in and ducks that took up residence in the one small pond in the courtyard. You sighed, unpacking your lunch and started to munch quietly. There’s no way she was coming, right? She’s always busy, and fiercely loyal to the Kuzuryu’s. You had to accept that, you told yourself, you had to just admit you had no chance of this acquaintanceship becoming more and-

     You did a double take while looking around anxiously, and no, your eyes did not fool you. There was Peko, walking swiftly to the door to the courtyard, pushing it open with one hand, and looking to you, a tray of food in her hand.

     “Peko!” Your smile was from ear to ear instantly. “You came! I saved you a spot!” You tapped on the bench beside to you. She approached, setting her tray down on your table.

     “Looks like you saved all of the spots. Why are you eating alone? Isn’t Gundham usually here?” You paused before answering, yet again taken aback. How did she know that? For someone so aloof, who dodged nearly all of your advances, she sure knew a lot about you. You saw her crimson eyes looking at you expectantly, awaiting a response.

     “Uh...yeah, but, he’s got cleaning duty in the room the animal handling club meets in. You know, scrubbing cages, picking up droppings.” You mimed a scrubbing action with your hands, before setting them back at your side, your fingertips brushing her hip accidentally before pulling back, nervously looking up at her. She blushed, looking away like that didn’t just happen.

     “Yes, I know of that classroom. I’ve looked inside once, momentarily,” she spoke a little too hastily, evidently embarrassed. “Oh, that’s right, your talent is Zoology,” she spoke, pretending she just now recalled this off the top of her head and hadn’t thought about it in length before in her dorm, “You must be in that room a lot then.” There she goes again, bringing up something you didn’t tell her or mentioned in passing when you were sure she was blocking you out. You were starting to think...maybe she wasn’t so indifferent about you.

     “Yeah...I’m there most of the day, since the academy wants us to focus on our talents above all else. But, yeah,” you fiddled with the hem of your skirt, “I’m no warrior like you, but I sure can tell you 191 facts on rabbits or the mating patterns of random pack animals!” You chuckled softly.

     “Lucky you, all the animals I try to interact with hate me. Gundham’ s hamsters cower into his scarf when I pass him, Young Master’s sister has a little dog that growls when I even look at it,” her hands tightened into fists at her side. Was that jealousy you were detecting in her voice? It didn’t matter. To you, any emotion from her was better than the apathy she usually spoke with. She looked to you, realizing how intensely and easily she had admitted that fact. She usually didn’t talk about herself, and she usually didn’t want to. You caught on to her uneasiness, empathetically feeling her tug at your heart. She picked up the fork on her tray, digging into some kind of portion of a pasta dish sectioned off.

     “Really? I wonder why that is. What kind of animals do you enjoy the most?”

     “I suppose the cuter ones. Reptiles and fish are okay, there’s a koi pound at the Kuzuryu mansion that I look at sometimes, but I prefer ones with fur...small ones. Or, rather...I supposed as long as they are fluffy it’s okay. I just want to pinch their little cheeks and scratch their ears, but… I guess they just find me too intimidating...” she trailed off, opening her water bottle and downing a gulp.

     “What? Peko I don’t think you’re intimidating at all! I mean, I suppose having to fight you or getting on your bad side would be, but just as a person, I think you’re strong and confident and a badass and attractive, but not...scary.” You spoke incredulously.

     “Attractive?” She spoke, barely above a whisper.

     “Yeah, sure!” You quickly changed the subject, “I didn’t know you even liked animals, Peko. You should’ve told me a while ago, I can sneak anyone into the animal handling room, even non-club members,” you smiled softly.

     “I...I don’t have time for that, and I would just stress out every animal in there. It’s better if I don’t.”

     “Peko,” you placed a hand on hers, resting on the table, “I know you’re busy but...lunch still has quite a while to go before the bell, and I’m not too hungry. Let’s go now, and you can be done and back at Fuyuhiko’s side before you know it!” She quickly pulled her hand away, grabbing her phone in her pocket.

     “I really can’t, I have commitments, and what if it takes longer than you thought?”

     “Can...can you at least ask Fuyuhiko? Like text him or call or-“ you looked so dejected, she almost felt...sad for you. She wanted to go with you, she really did, but her wants didn’t matter. A tool of clan Kuzuryu is bound to an unbreakable oath. She couldn’t just flake on her duties. She sighed. Taking out her phone to text Fuyuhiko. Upon raising it up in front of her, a notification came in immediately, filling the top of her screen with a message bubble.

[Young Master - 12:17pm: You better not. I’m ordering you to stay away from me until tomorrow.]

     Peko’s eyes widened, looking around at her surroundings. There’s no way Fuyuhiko could be close enough to hear the conversation without her sensing his presence or seeing him. She had a natural intuition for that kind of stuff. Her phone dinged again.

[Young Master - 12:18pm: Do you really think you’re the only eyes and ears I have? Which is WHY, I don’t need you always riding my ass. We have been over this. Bye.]

     She stood quickly, throwing away her mostly uneaten food.

     “Okay, let’s go,” Peko spoke plainly, and you stood, taking her hand and dragging her out of the lunch room at top speed.

~

     You arrived at the door to the animal handling room, watching Gundham pass as he was leaving.

     “Ah, Y/N, if you could treat those abyssal felines to their daily feast, for though they starve, I must away to class lest I be tardy and face that infernal woman’s curses yet again,” he crossed his arms rather crossly. You knew he wasn’t particularly fond of his ethics professor, a very irritable and unfair woman.

     “Yes, Gundham, of course. I take that to mean you fed all the others. Just the cats left for me, yes?”

     “Indeed. My greatest apologies for forcing this burden upon you, my dark accomplice,” he noted Peko’s prescence with a short glance, thinking you in her company was a bit odd, but quickly moving on. “Farewell,” and he sauntered off, the  Four Dark Devas of Destruction looking out of his scarf back at you lovingly as he disappeared down the hall.

     “He’s such a dork, but so kind once you get to know him,” you mused, entering the room with Peko following along. You always felt the need to speak on Gundham’s behalf or defend him, knowing most Hope’s Peak students unfairly judged him.

    “His ‘dark accomplice’?” Peko inquired closing the door behind her as you both entered and you walked further in alone, disappearing into a back closet. She observed the many cages and pet toys, the racks of animal treats and stacks of books on animal anatomy and training. The sounds overwhelmed her, with clicks and squeaks and meows from every angle. “Are you two involved? He seems close with you, though he doesn’t seem to like...people in general.”

     “With Gundham Tanaka?!” You shouted from inside the closet, obviously rummaging around for something. “Pfft! No way, he’s just a close friend. If I was his girlfriend I’m sure he’d be calling me his Goddess of Hell or Demonic Lover or some shit like that,” you laughed, imitating Gundham’s deep voice, “I’m honestly surprised I even earned the title of Dark Accomplice. Like you said, he’s not the most social creature.” You came back out, holding a decently heavy bag of what appeared to be cat food, opened at the top and ready for use. Instantly, the cats in cages, conditioned to know the sound and smell of an impending feeding, began mewling and pacing back and forth against the bars of their cages.

     “Wow, they must really love you,” she noted their perky attitude upon seeing you.

     “What? Nah, they really love the food in my hands right now,” you shook your head, approaching the first cage and opening it, the animal inside trained to not hop out and escape. It awaited impatiently in front of the small bowl in it’s cage as you filled it, Peko watching with an unwavering and envious stare. “I really do feel bad for these little friends...well really all of the animals on campus. Gundham and I take them out to play as much as possible, but seeing them in cages instead of in a loving home... kinda sucks. I guess it’s not all bad. Hope’s Peak has great influence over the country, so we get first call on local strays or abandoned pets, which is better than them going to a shelter or pet shop, I guess.” You sighed, scruffing up the cat’s neck before moving to the next cage. “They aren’t always treated the best elsewhere, but Gundham and I make sure this place is like a palace for them!” She couldn’t help but crack a smile at your trance-like grin, dreamily lost in your love for animals. “And also, we actively scout for potential homes for them, and vet their new owners before handing them over, so they go to a great home, and they don’t stay here too long!” You looked to her finally, noticing the tense posture, like a taut rope about to rip in two. Her fists were clenched again at her sides. There was obviously something on her mind, and it didn’t take a genius to realize what it was. “Peko, do you wanna feed the next one? You can pet her too!”

     “M-me?” She stood at attention now, with a look of low confidence that looked so odd and out of character for this fierce swordswoman.

     “Yeah, of course!” You opened the next cage door and let it swing open, gesturing to the cat inside, “this pussy’s all yours!” Your eyes widened. Why the fuck did I just say that?! You mentally screeched at yourself, forcing a pained smile with gritted teeth. You were lucky that Peko didn’t hear a word after ‘yeah’, her mind completely in go mode, excited to pet this damn cat and finally get to touch something so soft and cute and-

     She rushed up to the cage, darting forth with the energy of a child, and loomed over the entrance with her hand out toward the small calico inside. The cat shrunk back immediately against the back of the cage, it’s spine arched up and fur standing on edge before hissing harshly. Peko reached out further inside the cage, you grabbing her hand.

      “Ah, it’s probably better to not pet her when she’s that stressed. I don’t want  her to bite or scratch you.”

     “I see,” you let her hand go, and it fell flat to her side, her posture slouching a bit as she looked to the ground. “I suspected this would happen.”

     “N-no, she’s just a bit shaken up by how fast you moved. Just like if a person ran at you and you didn’t know them, you’d probably be on the defensive, right? Here, let’s have you just feed her, no need to touch her for that.” You lifted the bag to her, and she, albeit a bit sluggishly, reached her hand in and used the plastic scoop inside the bag to get a hefty amount, and poured it into the bowl, the cat calming a bit. “See, you’re a natural. She’s already warming up to you.” She couldn’t help but smile at your attempt to cheer her up. You closed the cage, and allowed her to feed the rest of the cats in the row, before asking her to sit on the ground in the middle of the room.

     “Why?” She inquired before hesitantly sitting.

     “Did you like the cats?” You ignored her question, moving to the smaller cages on the opposite side of the room.

     “They’re beautiful. I wish I had time to take care of one of my own, but the dorms don’t allow pets anyway, so it doesn’t matter I suppose.”

     “What’s your opinion on hamsters?” She grew excited, crossing her legs on the floor and removing the sword from her back, setting it beside her.

     “They’re cute! So cute! But...Gundham’s hate me. I’ve never pet one before.”

     “Well here’s your chance,” her eyes lit up at your words as you removed a small, pale-yellow colored rodent from the cage, cradling it gently in your hands and sitting on the floor in front of her, closer than you’ve ever been to the great warrior. “Now, this little guy isn’t as well trained as Gundham’s, but he won’t bite, and he’s quite loving. Open your hands, gently,” she obeyed, opening her palms, her heart rate spiking. Her uncurled fingers were angled stiffly and sharply like claws, “gently…relax, he’s not even sweatin’ it, so you shouldn’t either.” She exhaled deeply, a bit embarrassed, and you let the little fur ball transfer into her pale hands, Peko gasping loudly.

     “He’s so soft...and fat!” She grinned her signature crooked grin, putting him into one hand and scratching his ear with the other.

     “Yep!” You laughed at the tone of her voice, loving this moment. It was amazing to see her at ease and happy, instead of the flat, emotionless expression usually plastered across her visage.

     “What’s his name?”

     “Oh! Well he’s newer. Gundham usually thinks of the names, but all of his suggestions this time around were stupid so I told him I’m taking custody,” you both laughed, with yours being more pronounced and hers more of a breathy snort out of her nostrils. “I think he kind of looks like Fuyuhiko, tiny and blonde. Maybe we should call him Little Fuyu or Hiko Junior!” You mused.

     “Young Master would be very angry if he found out,” she spoke without looking at you, completely lost in this hamster’s beady eyes and tiny claws. You cleared your throat, a thought clawing at your mind at the mention of Fuyuhiko. You suddenly got nervous.

     “H-hey, Peko. Are you and Fuyuhiko involved?” It was a fair question, right? I mean, she asked you the same earlier, “Like, on the side of your duties, a forbidden love unknown to his dad, Lord Kuzuryu, the great clan father!” You tried to play off the awkwardness with humor. She obviously didn’t catch on to that.

     “No, of course not. That would be extremely inappropriate. It’s my job to serve him.” She let the hamster run across her thigh, it’s little legs scratching at her tights as she smiled down at him. Oh man her thighs....

     “Oh, well…” you were about to leave it at that. No, it’s now or never. She’s going to go back to her duties then you’ll never get another chance like this, “Peko...I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me…” You looked to the ground, unable to face her. Her body froze as stunned by a taser.

      “I can’t…”

     “Oh,” you expected this response. “Are you, like...not into girls? If that’s the case that’s totally fine! I respect that.” You presented this excuse, hoping she’d take it, desperately not wanting to hear the gut wrenching truth that she just was not into you.

     “No, that’s not the issue at all. I am just...Y/N, you know I have duties and lessons and not much else matters to me.” Okay, that didn’t hurt as much as hearing you were just unattractive and plain or worse, repulsive. But it still stung.

     “I wouldn’t mind waiting for any spare moment you had, or even helping with Fuyuhiko to lessen you duties, if you would just give me a chance.” You felt like an asshole, guilting or pressuring her, so you changed up your stance. “Uh, you know what, it’s okay if you just don’t like me back, that’s totally your choice and you can say tha-“

     “No, I do.”

     “W-what?” Did you hear that right?

     “I do...like you.” She unwillingly admitted, her white cheeks turning scarlet. “But, I owe my life to Clan Kuzuryu…” she brought the small rodent up to her face, placing her lips on its tiny head in a swift kiss.

     “Man, I wish that were me,” you admitted, defeated. You had nothing to lose at that point. When Peko’s lips touched your cheek in a blur of motion, leaving a firm peck, you stiffened up, a chill running over you.

     “P-Peko?”

     “I suppose...just one date wouldn’t burden my Young Master too much. I’ll ask him tomorrow. But… if he says no, I want you to know it wasn’t my choice. I want to hang out with you, even in a date type of setting. I...enjoy your company more than I let on.” There’s that lopsided grin again, the habit of a girl who didn’t smile often.

     “You’re serious? You’re not just joking around with me?” She handed the hamster to you, and you quickly put it in its cage and turned to her again.

     “I don’t joke.” She said flatly, straightening out her skirt and reclaiming her sword as she stood. You held in a chuckle at her serious tone, leading her to the door.

     “Okay, it’s a...potential date, then. Let me know?” She nodded in response.

     “I must go to class now, I’ll text you with an update later.” What?

     “How do you have my phone number?” You stood dumbfounded. She didn’t stop, talking as she walked away.

     “Young Master has it, from that one time you had a group project with him. I...acquired it, just in case I needed it. Bye.” She rushed down the hall.

Gosh...she was something...

[ryvgvji]

Chapter 1 | War

This is the first chapter to this new started series, i hope you guys enjoy

Also, in this series Stain died instead of being incarcerated. 

Warnings_ Death, Violence, Cursing, Blood, Self-harm, The use of the n-word once

I’m always ready for a war again, Go down that road again, It’s all the same

You were walking around the city, just out on a scroll. You had your earphones in with your hoodie on. You played your playlist with all your songs that helped you calm down. Right now you were going through it and just really needed to calm down. You didn’t want anything to do with anyone right now.

As you walked down the lowly dimmed street, you felt as though you were being followed. You didn’t really pay it mind but every block that you turned the feeling didn’t fade. Slowly speeding up, you walked even faster down the street. The feeling stayed the same. Starting to get anxious, you started to jog.

“Hey! Stop!” A deep voice said. Just turning your head you see that it was a cop chasing after you. ‘Oh shit, you gotta be kidding me’ you thought. You started to run down the block turning the corner. “Stop running!” The cop shout after you once more. They’re on your heel, so close to catching you. Just when you were about to turn into a dark alley, they tackled you.

“Get off of me!!” You screamed as you tried to push the man’s weight off of you. “Stop resisting!” He pushes your face harder in the concrete. “Ow! Stop! Your hurting me.” You cry as he has his knee on your back and he roughly pulls your arms behind you. He places the handcuffs on your wrist and used his hand to push your face even more in the concrete. “You fucking nigger, you deserve to be in jail.” He spat. With the hand on your head he pulls you up by your hair and put you to sit on the floor. He paged the base and in less than 10 minutes a cop car pulled up and you were pushed into the back.

“Hey tiny, where’ve you been?” Twice asked as you walked through the door. You were fuming with rage, and you were ready to release it. You held your hand up to him and walked over to the stool next to him at the bar. “Not right now. Kuro please pour me something to drink.” You say lowly. You hung your head down with your hoodie still on.

“Here’s your drink Y/N.” Kurogiri sets the glass in front of you. You take a hold of the glass and was about to bring it to your lips when a hand stops you. Looking over to the owner of the hand, it was Shigaraki. “What happened to your face?” He looks at the scratches and bruises on your cheek and forehead. “Don’t touch me please.” You lift his hand off your own, continuing your action to down your drink.

“Can you turn on the tv.” You say to Kurogiri. Complying he does so and the news channel flips on. Breaking news popped on the screen. 

“We are just receiving news that Stain, the hero killer, has been pronounced dead after being admitted to the hospital for a punctured lung while fighting with heroes.” The lady reporter said. What? Who did she just say? “Let’s have a talk with some of victims that experienced this attack.” No.

“I was just here with my wife when out of nowhere a ugly looking monster came out of nowhere and started to attack us. We could see Stain and the pro-heroes fighting against each other.” A guy with brown hair said into the mic. “Yeah I witnessed the whole thing! Stain was going at it with the pro-heroes and then all of a sudden he stopped and fell to the ground.” Another victim explained. 

“Turn it up.” you said softly trying to keep composure. The volume on the tv increase and the reporter came back on the screen. “We’re about to show to the real time footage of the scene.” The reporter said. The shaky and slightly blurry clip started to play on the tv. Screams and yells could be heard by the civilians running pass. You watch in hurt and anger as Stain fell to his knees in front of a hero. You wanted to vomit. You wanted to cry out screaming. You wanted to punch the tv. You wanted blood. That’s all you wanted at this moment.

“I’m pretty happy that he’s dead now honestly. Killing heroes because you didn’t think that they lived up to your expectations, excuse my language, but that’s utter bullshit.” A lady spoke on the screen. 

“Turn it off.” you gripped the glass that was in front of you harshly. “Huh?” Twice looked over at you. Hanging your head down, you repeated your sentence. “Turn. Off. The. Tv.” you said in broken words. Not wasting any time, Kurogiri turned of the tv. 

“Would you like to talk about it Y/N?” Kurogiri said in a low calm tone. You shake your head. You kept a tight grip on your glass, wanted to throw it so bad, but opting not to. “I know that I said before I don’t want to part take in any of your activities, but I think I want to now.” you spoke in a serious and low tone that sent shivers down the three men’s spine. You lift your head up and they could see the anger and rage in your eyes as they changed color to red with tears spilling out of them. This happened because of your quirk. They heard about your quirk but they never seen it in live action. And by the looks of it, it was super powerful.

With a split smile on his face, Shigaraki nodded his head in approval. “I think it is time Y/N. It time that you make them pay. Pay for what they did to Stain. To you.” he encourages, placing his gloved hands on your shoulders. “Let go of me. Now.” you say through gridded teeth, ready to go off on him in less than ten seconds. Feeling your body tense up he removes his hands and you relax. “I’ll go on the next mission with you all. I think the world needs to see who Y/N L/N is.” You release the glass that you’ve been holding in a death grip for the pass 15 minutes and hop off the stool walking down the dark hall to your room. Looking at the glass Twice saw that it had a crack on the side. “This is perfect, now we have another member. For sure, with Y/N, we will conquer.” Shigaraki says as he itches his neck. 

In your bedroom you were seated on the floor with a sharp knife in your hand. It was one that Stain had gave to you to use for protect when he first met you. You’ve known Stain for 7, almost 8 years. He took you in under his wings and was like a father figure to you since your biological parents didn’t want you in their life. He wasn’t the caring and nurturing type but you could tell from the way he’d treat other people and you. You had a special place in his heart for sure. Now, he’s gone. He was your own hope and stability in life. You can’t believe it. You don’t want to believe it. It’s killing you inside and out. 

You cry to yourself as you drag the blade of the knife against your thigh. There was blood leaking out of the wounds that you had made not to long ago. You watched as the crimson warm liquid flowed out of the newly cut onto the wooden floors. Putting the blade to your other thigh you make two other cuts watching as blood seeps out. You felt the pain but you didn’t care. This was the only to make yourself feel better. You then looked at your forearm seeing the bruises and scratches that littered across your dark skin. You hated it. You hated how you were constantly attacked and called out just for the color of your skin.

Using the knife, you cut a long stripe on your arm. And again. And again. And again. At this point your skin was cover in dripping blood that is started to crust up. Placing the knife down on the ground, you go to the mirror and look at yourself. You look like a walking crime scene. Your eyes are red and slightly puffed. You take a deep breath and exhale. You make eye contact with your reflection. You could see that your eyes were now purple. 

“They’re gonna pay.”

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Downtown Detectives || Morgan & Marley

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @detectivedreameater & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Marley meets another detective.

CONTAINS: Proof Morgan should stick to her day job.

If you’re looking for a sketchy witch, you go to the sketchy witch place in town. Morgan loitered around Amity Row for hours, hoping to spot one of the faces she and Winston had pulled from Coraline’s social media feed. She hadn’t been settled in White Crest very long, just a few months like Morgan, and there were only so many people who were old enough to have the kind of experience to alchemize iron in a body where there should be none. Maybe the parents of one of her college friends, maybe someone from her new D&D group, or-- Morgan’s brow quirked as she saw someone walk out of Stone’s Philosophy. She wasn’t close to the man, but she recognized him from enough faculty meetings to recognize him as Dr. Fridlund from the Chemistry department. He was the kind of guy that gave kids extra credit just for wearing a school shirt on Friday, the kind of guy you would think to trust. The kind of guy who you might meet in some sketchy secondary location because just in time to flex his secret alchemy skills.

Morgan saw him making his way to Eye of Newt, which had started seeing a sudden uptick in business after Vera figured out she’d been slipped a Monkey’s Paw. Morgan made a beeline for the door, power walking faster than any suburban mom ever had, and cutting him off at the door. “Hey! Doctor Fridlund, right? Or, Eric, can I call you Eric? It’s just so weird and great to see you around this part of town! I kinda miss the old Chem Crew a little.”

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Eric Fridlund adjusted his polo and leaned back on his heels to put some distance between them.

“Morgan Beck? I took on some of the intro classes last semester, because of the TA shortage? We were at a faculty lunch together? You were really excited to talk to me because your mom and I are from the same city!” Excited was a bit of a stretch, but she was going to make him feel as bad as possible for not remembering her. “It’s such a shame we don’t get to see each other more, but you’re busy taking on extra undergrad tutoring sessions, right? I feel like I heard that from one of my summer kids. Coraline Adams?”

Eric Fridlund pretended to understand exactly what the strange woman was saying and tried to ease his way around her. “Of course! So great to run into you. Anyways, gotta--oh.”

Morgan shifted, blocking his way once again. “Actually, I had a weird question for you!”

This part of town was, ironically, where Marley felt the most at home. And the most powerful. Walking around Amity with a badge on her hip and sunglasses firmly shielding her eyes, people shrunk out of her way, or gave her strange looks. That was fine with her, she liked it that way. No one got too close. This was how it was supposed to be, after all. And checking into a lead (even though she was technically still on leave, but sneaking into the precinct late at night to nab some files had been so easy) made everything feel even more normal. Apparently there was some suspicious activity that needed to be looked into down here, likely some sort of drug territory dispute, but of the...supernatural variety. It was right up her alley, literally. The lead told them that the last known sighting of one of the suspects was near Stone’s Philosophy, a cheesy name for a stupid magic jewelery shop if Marley had ever heard one. But the name didn’t matter, because she was here now, and as she went to head into the shop, something else caught her eye. Two people near the entrance to the shop next door, Eye of Newt, and one of them clearly looked uncomfortable. Interesting.

Marley turned and paused, watching them for a moment. The shorter, curly haired woman seemed to be cutting off the man’s route. She had that pinchy, determined look on her face, and Marley recognized it. It would be easy enough to walk away and let them go about their business, but Marley was the curious sort. And so she crossed over and came up behind the two of them, hands on her hips. “Everything okay over here?” she asked, quirking a brow.

There was a tone of voice cops had when they were getting ready to throw their weight into a situation. Morgan knew what the woman across from her was before she clocked the badge at her hip. She went rigid, smiling stiff as she said, “Yes, of course! Just catching up with a friend, right?”

Eric Fridlund considered his options. He had too many shoplifted items in his bag to want to invite too much scrutiny, but he sure wanted to get out of this interaction and get back to his wife and dog. “Sorry if we’re blocking the entrance, we’re just wrapping up here, though, right?”

“Yeah, you were gonna tell me about the last time you saw Coraline. She was in your summer seminar, right? It’s just, you know, so weird that she hasn’t been in class so close to finals, you know?” Morgan touched his arm and steered them away from the door, barely concealing her irritation at the officer. Eric brushed her off with a more pleading look the officer’s way, but obliged nonetheless.

The situation was already strange to Marley but when the name ‘Coraline’ came up, her entire body stiffened. She remembered reading that name on a recent missing person’s report. And while it could be coincidence, Marley’s years as a detective in a small town like this told her it wasn’t. “Did you say Coraline?” she asked, stepping over towards the two, leaving all air of intervening behind. “That wouldn’t be Coraline Adams, would it?” The nervous look on the man’s face didn’t escape her, either. He knew something. Her eyes sharpened and she could feel the want trickling into her bones, the need to feed. It was all she could get these days, was little snacks like this. But the other woman presented a small problem. And so she’d play along for now. “Why don’t you answer the question, buddy, huh? Make this easier on all of us.”

Of course someone had called the flipping cops. Morgan didn’t even know how long Coraline had been missing for, but her body had been stashed at Erin’s for well over a week. Her friends would have noticed eventually. And, what with the whole playing your cards close game supernaturals always had to play, someone had involved the cops without realizing it was the last thing anyone needed. Especially Coraline. But Eric was getting a little wormy under the officer’s attention. Morgan couldn’t rule him out as a real lead. Morgan set her jaw against her irritation and rolled with it. “Uh...yeah. It is, actually.”

“I don’t know. I’ve already emailed the dean of the science college, letting him know that Coraline’s failing my seminar because she refuses to come to class or communicate with me,” Eric said irritably.

Yes, Morgan thought, because she was murdered. “That’s it? You just went straight to her dean?”

Eric shrugged. “I’m a busy guy, and University protocol doesn’t require me to do anything else. Now, uh, speaking of busy--” He gestured with his shopping bag before he realized his mistake in drawing attention to it, flushed, and started to extricate himself from the two women.

Marley could sniff out guilt in almost anyone. Eric looked ready to bolt, his body stiffening at just the mention of Coraline, and the way his eyes averted the conversation when he admitted to having contacted the Dean and only the Dean about her absence. Marley put a hand up, blocking his path, and leaned against the building so he couldn’t escape by her. “Actually,” she said, “you’ve become suddenly not busy, right? Because...you wanna stay here and have a nice chat with us outside of this store, instead of, say...down at the station.” Her eyes sharpened and her stare could be felt, even from behind her glasses. “Right?” When he stopped moving, Marley dropped her arm. “So, why don’t you start from the beginning, hmm? When did you last hear from her?”

Morgan couldn’t help but side-eye the officer. She’d never had one on her side before, not that she knew it was her side. It was more of a coincidence than the law giving a shit for dead, lost fae or knowing how to handle them. She tried to subtly shift her body to pen Doctor Fridlund closer against the shop and peek around his shirt sleeves and collar. Her parents had always worn their transmutation circles on their person, and she knew enough from photos and stories that tattoos were a common practice for serious witches since they couldn’t be lost. There was one of those ‘edgy’ leather bracelets that had ridden up his arm. She couldn’t tell if there was a charm or not, but without being able to tell for sure…

“What? No, I’m...my wife is expecting me and it’s my turn to walk the dog, and I don’t see any, you know, official warrants or anything. I’m positive I don’t actually have to talk to either one of you. You--” Eric pointed to Morgan. “Are you with her? Is this some ridiculous undercover set up?” He tugged on his polo again. “You know what, it doesn’t matter, and I don’t care. I don’t know when she stopped coming to class, at least two weeks ago, if the cops really wanna come take a look at my attendance sheets, they’re welcome to it. I’m sure the tutoring logs are still around somewhere too. We were meeting one on one for help for a few weeks, and then nothing. It’s not pretty, but it happens all the time. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

Marley narrowed her eyes. People often didn’t cooperate under stress, but it was also a symptom of guilt. He was giving excuses that didn’t make one-hundred percent sense. The other woman was getting squirmy, too, glancing around at the man as if looking for something. Marley followed her gaze only for a bit before turning her attention back to the man. “You know, I think I’d love to pay the school a visit on your behalf. Should I just come directly to your office? Or let the front desk know who I am and what I’m there for? Cause I’m good either way,” she stated firmly, standing between him and his quick exit. She wasn’t entirely convinced this man actually knew anything, but if he did, she was going to get it out of him. And if he didn’t, there was still another thing he could give her. “If she stopped coming to class two weeks ago why did it take you a full week to report her missing to the Dean?”

Eric Fridlund went still. “Christ, she’s missing? Did you know about this?” He whirled his attention on Morgan.

Morgan made no reply.

“Look, the memo to the dean was just a standard form, University Protocol. I put in her ID number, checked why I was technically concerned, she had missed over a week of class and needed to do something or else take a failing grade, and I said something about how we had after class meetings. These idiots realize they’re in too deep all the time, and they’re too busy whining into their cell phones to remember to drop or leave notice. It’s unfortunate, but it happens. My job is to get the real grown ups looped in and hope for the best.”

“But you didn’t say why,” Morgan said.

“I don’t know!” Eric snapped. “Obviously if I knew she was missing, I would have acted more accordingly. If she’s in serious trouble...Christ, I don’t know. What do you think, Beck, another round of grief and crisis inservices?”

“I don’t know, Doctor Fridlund. I’m still wondering why you’re either dangerously negligent or hiding something besides your stupid shopping bag.” She reached for his arm and pulled, dragging down his bracelet as she upset the contents.

“Hey! She can’t do that! Officer, she can’t do that, right?”

Whoever this woman was, Beck, it seemed, she was just as fed up with this boring professor as Marley was. He wasn’t giving her any answers she wanted, and she could feel the anger rising inside of her. “So glad the university has a professor like you who seems to care so much about his students. Waiting whole weeks before reporting them missing while thinking they’re just drop-outs or lazy and not, I don’t know, in need of help? Possibly even using this as a cry for help? Just...delighted,” she growled. It was apparent this situation was more than just a case to Marley, but she glowered into the man’s eyes from behind her shades and restrained herself, just barely, from peering into his fears.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered slowly, turning her head away as the other woman yanked on him. “I don’t see her doing anything.”

Eric puffed, indignant at this treatment. These bleeding hearts were always after him. He stooped to pick up his knick knacks with what dignity he had left (Christ, he needed to see someone about this. He’d stolen a golf hat from one of the shops and he didn’t even like golf). But before he could get that far, he felt the officer’s eyes on him and looked up. More than anything he wanted to tear his eyes away, to be anywhere but this godforsaken street. “No,” he whispered. “You can’t...this isn’t happening…” He backed away from them both and let the bag fall from his hands. He ran, stumbled to his knees in the street, got back up, and kept running.

Morgan reached out for him again, “Get back here--!” But whatever had come over him was too strong to listen. He left without picking up anything from the ground, and even leaving his bracelet behind. Morgan stooped to pick it up. She recognized the transmutation circle at once and grimaced, burning to have the power to make the ground swallow him up. “Well, that was interesting,” she grumbled. And not exactly illuminating for her peace of mind. She’d passed off her own spellcraft as pure aesthetic to know not everyone with a circle knew the first thing about equivalent exchange.

Coward. Marley flicked her eyes away from him and let the fears fall away. He didn’t actually know anything, she could tell just by the taste-- his fear was darker, different. He didn’t care about Coraline or what happened to her. But she was definitely going to be paying him a visit at the school, and that time, she’d come for him full blast. Whatever he was hiding, he held power somewhere, and she could use that to her advantage. Turning back to the other woman, Marley sized her up. “So...what’s your connection to Coraline?” she asked, raising a brow. “A worried friend? Interested party? Wannabe detective striking out on her own?”

All of Morgan’s rising warm feelings for the officer flatlined. “Oh, I’m just…concerned.” That much was true. “And the guy, you know, he gave me these weird vibes, you know. I just happen to think, you know, it’s a shit show out there and more people should care. Crazy, I know.” Morgan shrugged and looked down at the stolen things on the floor. There was an athame with its price sticker still on in the mix, but most of it was mundane garbage. Morgan grimaced. Completely useless. “Thank you, for whatever you did over there. But I guess I should be going too…”

Marley watched the woman fumble in her words. She was lying about something, but hiding it behind small tidbits of truth. Frowning, Marley moved to pick up the bag. She supposed she should return it to the store it was stolen from. Turning to look back at her, Marley gave her best attempt at a smile. She had a hunch, and it was time to test it out. “Of course,” she said, coming back over to her. She stuck her hand in her pocket and pulled out one of her cards. “If you think of anything else, feel free to contact me. After all, people like us,” she leaned in a little closer, “we gotta stick together, right?”

Morgan went stiff. What did she mean? Could she smell the death on her? Hear her lack of heartbeat? She was remembering to breathe, right? Or maybe the officer meant something else. Maybe it was people like them as in women, or queer women. All lady officers looked butch, and this one carried no small amount of swagger. Morgan offered her a smile and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m not sure what you mean exactly, but I appreciate the sentiment. I don’t generally find police officers to be very sympathetic when it comes to my side of the tracks.” She offered her a wave and started to edge away.

Marley noted the woman’s stiffness at the question, watching her work out exactly what Marley meant. Whatever she said next, Marley already had her answer. Body language was so telling after all. “Well, not all officers have blindfolds on,” she said in return after a moment, “just know there’s someone looking out for you on the squad.” Or watching them closely, in her case. A tip of her head, a crooked smile. She wanted to stay longer, to figure out what exactly this woman was-- but it wouldn’t do to push such a twitchy looking person. “Hey, wait,” she called out, not moving from her spot, “I never  got your name. I’m Marley.”

Morgan nodded, her smile curving up in a friendly way. Something sounded familiar about that name, she just couldn’t figure out how. She almost wanted to ask if she knew Jane Wu, but she didn’t want to put the reckless not-zombie into any more trouble than she already got into by herself. “I’ll try and remember that,” she said. “Maybe I’ll look you up sometime to say hey. If you hear from a gal named Morgan, you know it’s probably me.” Keeping the bracelet clenched tight in her fist, Morgan backed herself out of the street and high tailed it for home.

[starcountesseevee]

A Rocket Coincidence (Part 12)

Part 11 / Part 13

     The sun was mostly set and the city skyline glowed red with the last rays of daylight as Kali began walking. Since she was already on the opposite side of the city Kali had figured she could take this opportunity to hit some Pokestops that were out of her immediate day-to-day area.

     It had been a few weeks since she had gotten back and already Kali found herself bored with her routine training and itching for something more substantial. Aslan had been a great help with sparring her Eeveelutions but it wasn't the same as a real battle and the gym was usually too busy with other trainers trying to earn their rainbow badge from Erika to take on friendly matches. Maybe she'd get lucky and one of these Pokestops would have a Team Rocket Grunt, as they called them.

     She wasn't sure if it was just that Team Rocket was more in the forefront of her mind nowadays but she seemed to be hearing about them a lot more recently. Was there really an increased number roaming the street as the media said? She had yet to encounter one, at least since she got back home anyway. Most were said to set up near the Pokestops to block weaker trainers from getting their daily coins and she had even heard some of the bolder ones challenged the gym but got trounced before making it to Erika. So when Kali followed her map to a Pokestop down a side street and found her way blocked by a grunt she was actually glad for the run in.

     "What are you lost? No you don't have that scared look." The other girl was clearly sizing Kali up. "You must be a trainer here for the Pokestop. Tough luck but it's closed off to the likes of you."

     "Oh is it now?"

     "Not even a single Rattata is getting by me." She sassed back. "I suggest you leave before I change my mind and challenge you."

     "Why don't I just save you the trouble?" Kali reached for a pokeball.

     “I don’t think you understand the consequences here, you’re messing with Team Rocket.”

     “I think I understand perfectly.”

     "Fine, but you'll regret this." The girl's eyes narrowed. "I'll give you three chances to beat me but when all three of mine are still standing and yours aren't you've got to leave." Was it just Kali or did her tone seem less confident than just a few moments ago?

     "I'll agree to that." Kali tossed her pokeball forward, calling Lyra out for a strong start while the other girl let loose a Larvitar. That’s what she is using? Kali thought to herself. She looked up at her opponent and could practically feel the other girls agitation from here as she scowled. Kali hesitated, giving the other girl a chance to change her mind about the battle.

     "Larvitar, use Bite!" Clearly she wasn't going to back down. Kali at least had to give her some credit for being stubborn. The small green Larvitar ran forward towards Lyra who jumped aside before Kali could command her and looked back at Kali as if she was questioning why she was fighting this pokemon.

     "Water Gun?" Kali's command came out more like a question and Lyra swung back around to face the Larvitar who was rushing towards her again. Having had Lyra for a long time Kali could tell her Vaporeon was half-assing her attacks and from the look on the grunt’s face she could tell too. Lyra continued to hop skillfully around the smaller pokemon, dodging its attempted bites before countering with a jet of water.

     "Dammit Larvitar! Bite it!" It tried obeying but was clearly getting worn out trying to keep up with Lyra. Kali’s Vaporeon waited until it ran back towards her to hit it with a more forceful Water Gun attack and the Larvitar fell face first onto the street. "Argh, fine!" She returned the spent Larvitar. "Go Pupitar!"

     Really? Were these all she had brought or were they issued to her? Kali wasn't sure how Team Rocket worked but Kali felt bad for the girl. Lyra ran circles around the Pupitar with minimal direction as the grunt tried to land a hit with Rock Smash. Eventually Lyra wore it down to the point of exhaustion causing the girl to stomp her foot in frustration as she recalled it. Kali hoped her last pokemon would be a decent one but to her surprise the girl called out another Pupitar. Was she really expecting this to end differently? It didn't.

     "Dammit I'll never be able to face the boss at this rate!" Kali pretended to not hear as the other girl stomped past her while Kali bent down to stroke Lyra's back before returning her to her pokeball. She could hear the girl making a call as Kali walked over to the QR code for the Pokestop, stalling as she listened. She recognized that voice. The girl was fortunately facing away from her as Kali approached and she bit back a smile as she saw Cliff’s face on the grunt’s screen, although she had to admit she had never seen him that angry.

     “...you’re supposed to be shadowing someone! What in the hell made you think to go out there on your own in your first week!” The girl was trying to stammer out an excuse when Kali stepped forward, leaning casually on the girl’s shoulder so she would be in the call frame as well. Both looked at her in surprise.

     “Don’t be too hard on her, she gave it a good shot.” Kali smirked.

     “You beat her?” Cliff started laughing. “Jess, this is exactly why you shouldn’t have been out on your own so early. You’re not prepared to battle someone at a higher level than you.” Cliff’s tone was still serious but at least he wasn’t yelling anymore. Kali could feel the defeat radiating off the other girl and felt a twinge of pity.

     “Give her a break, everyone has to start somewhere.” Kali pointed out.

     “I expect you to return to base immediately and report to your assigned officer.”

     “Yes, sir.” Sir? Kali covered her mouth with a hand to hide her laughter.

     “We’ll discuss this later.”

     “Yes, sir.” Jess replied dejectedly as her screen went dark then turned towards Kali who had begun to walk away. “I thought you weren’t part of Team Rocket.”

     “I’m not.”

     “Then how….you shouldn’t have butt in!” Kali wondered if this was what she sounded like when she was upset.

     “Look, just take it as a free pass.” Kali reasoned as her Pokegear began going off with a video call and she had a feeling she knew exactly who it was. “I’ve gotta take this.”

     “Whatever.” Jess muttered before storming off.

     “Sir?” Kali questioned sarcastically.

 ��   “Just because some people have manners and you don’t…”

     “Oh, is that how you’re playing it?”

     “I’ll take any leg up I can get with you.” Cliff laughed before continuing. “So I’ve been meaning to say, I’ll be in Celadon at the end of this week. Maybe I’ll see you around?”

     “Maybe. Just as long as it's not Friday night, I’m already spoken for.”

     “Spoken for? On a Friday night?” Was that a hint of jealousy she detected or was she just being hopeful?

     “Spoken for.”

     “Alright then, firecracker, if there is any time in your oh-so-busy schedule let me know.”

     “I’ll think about it.” She teased before waving playfully and hanging up.

     “I thought you said you had a call from a grunt.” Sierra’s cool voice sounded from behind Cliff.

     “Eavesdropping I see?” Cliff crossed his arms over his chest as he turned to face the other leader.

     “Tch, only because you’re holding us up.”

     “I would hardly call a few minutes a hold up.”

     “I don’t see why you’re wasting your time with that dumb trainer anyway, if she hasn’t joined us already she’s obviously not going to at all.” Sierra was trying to get a rise out of him and it was working but before Cliff could respond Arlo stepped into the hall.

     “Will you two cut it out so we can finish up here before midnight?”

     “Fine.” Cliff glared at Sierra’s back as she sauntered past Arlo. “What’s left?”

Part 11 / Part 13

[just-a-friend-but-not-really]

Some things are better left unsaid. Some things aren’t.

Let’s just say things could be better. A lot better. To be fair, the akuma left her no choice but to transform. It had been extremely violent too. But no matter how much she justified her action, there was still a part of her that didn’t think it was fair. What was she supposed to do? Just let the akuma attack her classmates because she couldn’t sneak away? No, under no circumstances would she allow that to happen.

Her class had been trapped in the locker room. A changing room, some might say. And oh boy did things change. The akuma had been blocking her only way out, and it was a new protocol that no one left the teachers sight during an attack. The big-and-scary-looking akuma had thrown her against the lockers and she had felt something crack. When her classmates had rushed to her side, the akuma threatened them. Just because Ladybug hadn’t shown up. With good reason too, but it didn’t know that. All she remembered was telling her class that they were going to have to keep a secret. And then the cleansing cure. Everything else had happened in a blur.

At least Adrien hadn’t been there. She wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. She had already had to talk to everyone but Lila. That was a bit disappointing. But at least her classmates knew Lila was lying.

Alya had quickly gone from reporter to best friend. Marinette didn’t know if she was a fan of that. Talking about her life as Ladybug so casually was both a relief but definitely something she had to get used to. But with her classmates at her side, it was much easier.  Well mostly. It was so much easier ignoring her growing feelings for Chat when it was just her and Tikki. Now with Alya at her side, who is excellent at reading people, it was a bit harder.

“I have to tell him.” It had been just about 11 hours since she revealed herself to her class. During those 11 hours Alya barely let her take a step without her. Right know they were sitting in Marinette’s room discussing the weirdest akumas when it hit her.

“Who? What? Cause if we’re talking about telling Hawkmoth his fashion sense sucks, then yeah, you tell him.” It was getting dark outside. Marinette looked at the clock and felt a slight hint of panic. It was 8.36pm. Patrol started half an hour ago.

“Oh shoot! Alya, you gotta go home. I’m late for patrol!”

10 min later

The wind was hitting her face in a way that she didn’t have the time nor the energy to admire. She just hoped Chat didn’t think she ditched him. Now she just had to find hi-Oh there he was.

Sitting on a roof. No, sitting on their roof. It was the roof they always stop by after patrol. He was sitting there. Waiting for her. It made her heart do stupid-fluttery things. Damn that boy.

“Oh gosh, I am so sorry Chat! Ididn’tnoticewhatthetimewasandIwastalkingwithmyfriendbutIshouldhavebeenmorecarefularoundthetimeandIneedtotalktoyou!” She jumped over some roofs and barely landed on her feet.

“OH, Thank Kwamis you’re okay! I was so worried!” He rushed to her and hugged her tightly. It made her feel safe. It was nice. “You weren’t answering my calls and I couldn’t track you. But you’re here now, and you’re okay. That’s good” She should probably comfort him, but it had taken every bit of courage to tell him, so her focus was a bit off.

“Chat?” Her eyes met his and while hers were filled with nervous excitement, his were filled with relief. It gave her a bit more courage. His hands started rubbing her back, not letting go from the hug. “Do you still want to know who I am?”

He stopped. He pulled away. Oh no this was bad. What if he didn’t want to know anymore? What if he was going to be mad that she revealed herself to her class before him? Wait no this was Chat, he would understand.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to know?” A question to her question. Like he was questioning the very world they stood in. His normal confident voice had gone quiet. It did not calm her. What she wouldn’t do for one of his stupid puns right about now.

“Since I’m the guardian now, I make the rules. Also, I messed up today.” She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she started walking around on the roof. Never far away from him. “Do you remember the akuma earlier today?”

“The big ugly one? Yeah it rings a bell” He flicked his bell for effect. She allowed herself to enjoy the moment and let out a chuckle.

“Yeah that one. I got trapped with my class and was unable to sneak away. He was going crazy and he was about to hurt everyone of them,” She looked at him and saw that he was coming closer, she started slowly walking towards him too. He was looking at her with such understanding that she knew he knew what was coming. She sighed. “I had to do it.”

“I know” Her arms were around him faster than ever before. They stood there for a minute. Or five. Or an hour. To be honest she wasn’t sure how long it had been.

“It’s still dangerous for us to know, but I just felt bad that the person I trust most in the world didn’t know.” Without an akuma to take up her attention, she had to admit Chat looked really good.

“So how are we gonna do this? You tell me, and I don’t tell you? That doesn’t seem fair bugaboo” He was right. It wasn’t fair. But they would have to deal with that later. “But if that’s how you want it, that’s how we’re gonna do it.”

“Thank you Chat. Okay well here goes nothing,” With only him there with her, her mind started flooding with memories of them, together. And she hoped- no prayed that this would only change things for the better. “Spots off” And just like that she was enveloped in pink light. Gone just as fast as it had arrived. Where Ladybug had been standing stood Marinette.

Chat stood frozen. Should she say something? Tikki had already flown into her purse, so no help from her. Her eyes darted to the floor. Was he disappointed? She didn’t know what to do if that was the case! Maybe this had been a mistake. She should just leave and forget all about this horrible, horrible day-

“I really want to kiss you right know” It sounded like he hadn’t meant to say it. And by the looks of him, he definitely hadn’t meant to say it. But he had and she wanted him to own it. To mean it, her mind supplied. His face had gone red but he tamed his blush. “That is, if you’d let me?”

If she’d let him? 

“I would-or I will, no I am- I am letting you kiss me.” Their hands met and he held hers gently. She loved the way her hand fit into his. Like it had been molded for it. Perfect.

His lips met hers. It wasn’t forceful or needy, it was soft and caressing. His hands found her waist and he pulled her closer. He leaned in to her and she guided his face as if there was room for Jesus. There wasn’t. When he held her, she felt safe. Like nothing in the world could harm her. She never wanted to stop feeling like this. Like..Like she was in love. Which she was. She was so in love that it surprised even her. The way she needed him and he needed her. In sync. In harmony. In love.

His lips left hers, and she felt both waves of relief and sadness. Sad that the kiss ended but relieved that she could finally catch her breath. 

That was without a doubt, the best thing she’d ever done(and being a superhero, the bar was pretty high). “I want you to know, Alya is definitely going to hear about this” she panted. He let out a soft chuckle and she wondered how he had all that spare breath. 

“Are you going to tell her about every time I kiss you?” His eyes met hers, and she felt herself falling in love once again. Who let this boy be both attractive and a great kisser?

“That depends on how often you plan to kiss me,” She teased him, but was it really teasing if she truly meant it?  

“And that, my lady, truly depends on how often you’d let me.” She felt herself becoming braver.

“How about we find out, mon chaton?”

The rest of the night was filled with kisses, promises and swollen lips. And if you asked her if that was a hickey on her neck, she would smile knowingly at you and simply say yes.

[psychovigilantewrites]

Chapter 8 - Absence

Pairing: Jason Todd/Reader

Word Count: 3,128 words

TW: Violence and Gore.

A/N:  Hi guys!! Sorry for the super long wait! I've had writers block for the longest time and also life gets in the way, as usual. This one's a short one, sort of a transition into the next chapter- which will definitely be more intense! Thanks for being so patient with me as usual. 

 Read the previous chapters of Red Who? here: Masterlist

Normal people would probably compare what you felt to some time when they were a kid, where one of their parents surprised them with some sort of wish they always had. A trip to Disneyland or that red bicycle they’ve always wanted.

Or maybe to a time where some crush said they liked them back after a confession, or even being offered a cookie by a new friend.

Whatever it was, those were everyone else’s comparison.

You didn’t have any great childhood memories to refer to the feeling you felt right now. But the closest would be the first time Bruce ever said “Good job” to you.

Your first kiss wasn’t all that you expected it to be. To be fair, you didn’t really expect much from a first kiss. To you, it was all unnecessary distraction from the things that mattered.

But Jason didn’t make you feel that way. He made you feel giddy and excited, he made you feel like you were being pulled upwards by a whole bunch of colorful helium balloons.

But then you walked inside the manor, changed into your Robin uniform, and started to approach Bruce who was at the Bat computer.

“What are you doing?” he scrutinized you.

“I’m ready to go?” you hesitated, before mentally slapping yourself. You suddenly remembered your fall out yesterday, bursting your bubble of joy before. He was still mad at you. Of course he was, you hadn’t done anything to fix it.

Yet you felt like you didn’t need to apologize.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he gave you a cold look that made you feel like shrinking, “You disobeyed a direct order last night. I can’t just ignore it.”

“I went with my instinct, Bruce,” you tried to reason with him, “You always said to-”

“No, you went because you are fixated on him,” Bruce cut you off and glared at you. A look you’ve never been on the receiving end of.

“What? What are you talking about?” you sputtered, taken aback by his remark.

“I don’t know why, but you’re fixated on the Red Hood,” he continued, “You went and disobeyed me because you wanted to see him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Bruce,” you retorted, straightening your back into a cold stance, “You’re talking as if I have a crush on him.”

“Do you?” he demanded, “I know for a fact that you hide things from me regarding your encounters with him.”

“How dare you assume that of me, Bruce,” you coldly replied, despite the nervousness of getting caught. You needed to shift the blame to him somehow.

“Then why?” he urged, “You have never before disobeyed me. Why do you always get excited when he’s involved?”

“I get excited because it’s exciting!” you argued, “He’s a new criminal who came out of nowhere, taking over the underground in the span of a couple of weeks! Who wouldn’t be?”

“Do you know who he is?” Bruce suddenly asked.

“No. That’s what I’ve been asking you, remember? How dare you accuse me of hiding things from you when you’re the one who refuses to trust me enough to tell me who he is,” you ranted, finding a way to finally shift the blame on him to reduce your own faults.

“I don’t-”

“Don’t lie to me, Bruce. A guy who randomly appears and fucks shit up, knows everything about the both of us, our identities probably included- don’t tell me you out of all people haven’t figured it out. So why haven’t you told me?”

“Because I don’t want to believe it myself!” he yelled, making you jump slightly at the sudden change in volume.

You stared at him for a few moments, before saying, “Who is he, Bruce?”

He clenched his jaw.

“Do you want to patrol or not?”

“Yes,” you stated.

“Fine,” he sighed, turning away from you, “But you stick by me the whole time. If he happens to appear, you stay in the Bat-mobile.”

“But-”

“Do you want me to put you under house arrest?”

“Fine,” you admitted defeat.

***

You honestly thought the decapitated heads on spikes were the worst you’ve seen, and that the next bad thing would wait at least more than a week before it threw itself at you.

But there you were, mouth slack in shock at the scene before you.

It was a bright night in Robinson Park, coincidentally where you were earlier, the moon was full and there were no clouds blocking its gentle light. The additional lights that the GCPD brought also gave plenty of illumination that fell onto the three bodies hanging on tree branches.

All male, all naked, all hanged by the neck with a rope. Purple faced and tongues lolling out, you were thankful for taking Dick’s advice by expecting the worst. Yet, it still shocked you.

Because if it were just three people hanged by the neck, you wouldn’t have batted an eye. But this time, there were three people hanged by the neck, their bellies slashed open horizontally, intestines spilling out and trailed all over the well kept grass like large alien worms bursting out.

And along with the gruesome scene, of course, came the smell. It wasn’t just the metallic smell of blood this time. It was closer to the smell at the club the first time you met Red Hood. A mix of blood and feces and urine. Thankfully, it was outdoors with plenty of ventilation.

“Batman,” Gordon huffed when he saw the two of you approaching. Batman rushed to arrive to the scene when he heard the traffic on the police radio. The crime scene was already taped off, forensics were everywhere, flashing lights from their cameras as they took pictures of the bodies.

As you got closer, you could see in detail how the bodies looked like. The gashes were clean, you could see the layers of skin, fat, and muscle that made up the cross section of the gash. Hell, you could even see the bits of fascia and peritoneum that were damaged by the trauma.

“Black Mask’s men,” Batman pointed out without hesitation.

“Yeah,” Gordon sighed, “Like I said before, gang war. Red Hood himself must have done this. Looks like we’ve got another sadistic bastard running around. This was done to them while they were alive.”

You grimaced.

“What we think is rope fibres were found underneath the nails, so they were struggling and scratching at it to escape before they got strangled to death,” Gordon continued, “We still gotta wait for forensics, but I bet my money the coroner’s report is going to confirm it. He must have had them stand on the park table here, tied the noose around their necks, gutted them, and then pushed them down. The momentum from the fall must have forced the intestines to spill like this.”

You had to hand it to Red Hood, he was very theatrical. If you weren’t so disgusted by his lack of empathy, you would have perhaps thought that his works were art.

“How do you know it was him?” you voiced out.

“There isn’t anyone else that have the guts to directly attack Black Mask,” Gordon explained, “I don’t think these would be the last bodies we find.”

True enough, the week after that, another two bodies were found in a similar state, but this time, you noticed the nail of one of the men’s pinky fingers were pulled out. A piece of information that you didn’t know you stored at the back of your mind came to resurface.

When it came to torture for information by denailing, if the victim could handle getting one nail pulled out without breaking, they most probably could handle it all. The strongest ones are the ones with all their nails pulled out- which meant that they probably did not reveal anything.

Judging from the body before you, you guessed that Red Hood probably got whatever information he was looking for.

And if he did, why did he have to kill them both in such a way?

Truly, you couldn’t comprehend his love for cruelty.

You stuck with Batman on the days you patrolled, as per his orders. You weren’t allowed to go on your own anymore until you gained his trust again. Not that it mattered, because even though you were investigating a string of Red Hood’s bloody murders- he was on his twenty-third victim by then- you didn’t get to meet the culprit himself.

He was keeping to the shadows, yet making his presence still loud and clear by leaving bodies everywhere.

You didn’t want to admit your disappointment.

Red Hood wasn’t the only one leaving bodies, though. Black Mask also was under investigation for retaliating by attacking and murdering Moehler’s men, though less creatively and dramatic.

Before you realised it, Gotham City was in the midst of a gang war that Gordon had predicted those weeks ago.

After a particularly exhausting patrol on a Saturday night involving yet another one of Red Hood’s victims, you laid on your bed, and stared at the ceiling. You glanced at your phone- no notifications.

It had been approximately 3 weeks since your kiss with Jason, and it was the last time you saw him. He had been texting you less and less, despite it all. The last message you sent him a week ago read was just a GIF of a Shiba Inu’s backside while it walked. You didn’t want to seem desperate.

You probably scared him off. I told you so, Mother said.

You pushed her away like you always did.

You tried to not overthink it. Perhaps he was busy with getting into the police force, perhaps he didn’t feel like talking to anyone, because God knows even you have long periods of time where you wanted to just shut out the world.

You tried to be understanding and patient.

But you still couldn’t help but think about him. His smooth voice, how sexy he sounded when he swore. His grunts and moans of pleasure over the phone. And his lips. How they felt against yours, how they would feel in between your legs. You always noticed his smell too.

His cologne, fabric softener, the smell of leather and… fireworks. You didn’t know why. But his smell reminded you of fireworks.

But you were restless. And Jason wasn’t the only one that was on your mind.

You hadn’t seen Red Hood for about as long, too. It irritated you. For some reason Red Hood felt like an itch on your back that you just couldn’t reach far enough to scratch. As the nights went by without hearing from Jason, you strangely thought of Red Hood more.

Especially at night when you were alone in bed.

You wondered about him. Some reasonable, some completely random. Where was he from? Did he have siblings? Does he play music inside that helmet of his? He looked like the heavy metal type, but you entertained the idea of him humming along to Taylor Swift while he gutted men.

What was wrong with you? You were unintentionally humanising him, giving him more meaning and sentimentality than he deserved.

But most importantly, you had a feeling that he was preparing for something, in addition to the gang war he started. You didn’t have any evidence. It was just your gut. And you trusted your gut, no matter what Bruce said.

Shit.

You started to think that Bruce was right. You felt like you were beginning to be obsessed with him. You groaned into your pillow before trying your best to fall asleep and not think about Red Hood’s flexing biceps.

***

The familiar lurch of the batmobile going from stationary to full speed never failed to excite you to your core.

Both you and Batman were on your usual patrol in Otisburg District, before hearing a large explosion just a few blocks away. He frequented the district a lot, since The Stacked Deck was overtaken by Red Hood, it made sense to patrol in the area.

You wanted to patrol in the area. It meant the chances of meeting him was higher. Not that it mattered, because Batman was still keeping you on a tight leash.

What you didn’t expect, though, was to see the club itself engulfed in flames.

You hacked a cough the moment you exited the batmobile, the soot and smoke enveloping the area in heavy clouds. People were running in the opposite direction, away from the building. If there was anyone inside the club, it was too late to save them now. The alcohol must have contributed to the rapid burning, and somewhere along, a gas pipe must have burst, because the roof and part of the outer walls were in ruins already from the explosion you heard before.

The fire department came. You saw the familiar face from all those weeks ago. Parks, was it? The cute one. You saw him order his men around and climbed onto the lift with a hose. You overheard someone say it was going to take them more than just a couple of hours to extinguish the fire.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m already here,” you heard a voice behind you, “Yes, sir. No, sir. With all due respect Mr. Mayor, you don’t just stop a gang war- understood, sir.”

You turned around and saw a very distressed Commissioner walking towards the two of you. He was on the phone, his other hand pressing at his temples.

“Understood sir,” he huffed, ending the call, “Batman.”

“Commissioner,” Batman nodded.

“Of course you got here first,” he sighed, “I’ve already told my people to pull up the traffic cameras and every other CCTV nearby- which you probably already have access to. Whatever it is, I put my money that Black Mask did this.”

“Of course it is,” you rolled your eyes, not that Gordon could see them behind your white lenses.

“Oh, I also have another update,” Gordon suddenly remembered, “Regarding the Gotham University Public Library case. According to the two we caught, there is a third. He managed to get away. Jerome Miller, 8 cases of arson, 11 attempted arson, 2 theft- but I guess it’s below your paygrade, Batman. Hey, do you even get paid?”

“Where is he now?” you interrupted, feeling your blood boil at the mention of one of the people who burned down your safe haven.

“We put an APB on him. He’ll turn up eventually. But we have bigger things to deal with now,” Gordon explained, “Red Hood will retaliate. And soon. God have mercy on whoever he gets his hands on next.”

*** It was hard to wish for God to have mercy on whoever Red Hood gets his hand on next, especially since the victim this time was none other than Black Mask himself, who has killed and tortured hundreds.

But when you saw the state of Black Mask’s body, you found yourself taking back that thought.

His mask was a feet away from his body, which was still positioned in a sitting position on his leather armchair, facing the massive window of his office building which showed the city skyline. His face?

On his desk behind him.

Literally. His face was skinned messily, clumsily, and then placed on the glass desk behind him in a mound of bloody flesh. Red Hood did not take his time to skin Roman Sionis’ face off, that’s for sure.

Sionis had his neck slashed ear to ear, his carotids and jugular sliced through.

“Did he-” you started, “Did Red Hood do this to him alive?”

“We would need blood test results for that,” Batman said next to you, taking out a syringe to extract blood from the body. Where he kept it? You didn’t ask. You didn’t know he carried around a syringe and a vial to take blood.

“If the forensics saw you,” you giggled.

“Good thing they’re too slow,” Batman smirked.

He actually smirked.

You felt inappropriately happy, given the scene before you, but Batman had been cold to you these past few weeks. This was a step to him getting over it.

You heard people approaching.

“Jesus Christ!” you heard Gordon’s muffled voice behind the door. Probably counting the 31 dead security on his way up and outside.

“Let’s go,” Batman commanded, pushing open the door right before Gordon opened it.

“Batman-”

“I’ve got what I need,” he simply said and walked away, with you giving Gordon an apologetic smile and following behind him.

***

“Positive for suxamethonium chloride,” Bruce announced from the Cave computer as you walked towards him, freshly cleaned and changed.

“What?” you asked.

“Roman Sionis’ blood has traces of suxamethonium chloride, a neuromuscular-blocking drug,” he explained, “Induces paralysis for about ten minutes.”

“Jesus,” you whispered, “Red Hood injected him with that, and then peeled his face off while he couldn’t move?”

“Yes.”

“And does this sucks- suxo-”

“Suxamethonium chloride,” Bruce helped you.

“Yes, that,” you rolled your eyes, “Is it like, an anesthesia as well?”

“No,” Bruce replied, “Only a muscle relaxant. It’s used to perform quick medical interventions in emergency departments. When a muscle relaxant is induced, doctors would have the patient under a ventilator, since the diaphragm is also paralysed. But Red Hood did not have a ventilator, meaning Black Mask did not only feel the pain while he was being skinned, but was also suffocating.”

“Good thing he didn’t use a ventilator, though,” you shrugged, “At least since he couldn’t breathe, he would have passed out after a few minutes.”

“I see you have gotten used to his methods,” Bruce commented.

“What do you mean?” you frowned.

“You used to be more surprised after learning Red Hood’s brutal rituals,” Bruce pointed out.

Huh. He was right.

“I guess so,” you responded, “I would have had to get used to them eventually. Plus, it’s not like Black Mask was a saint, either. He deserved what he got.”

“We are not the ones who decides who deserves what,” Bruce reminded you.

“Just saying,” you shrugged again, “I’m heading to bed. Night, Bruce.”

“Hmm.”

You lied in bed that night, for the first time not thinking about how brutal Red Hood was. You just wish you could see him already. The past few weeks- for some reason you felt lonely. You felt like you were being deliberately ignored by someone you wanted attention from- while they were still flaunting their presence to you.

You missed him.

Fuck.

You finally realised that you missed the fucking asshole. Were you so bored that you were now craving the sight of a criminal?

Where was he, anyway?

You scoffed.

Right. Probably celebrating. With Black Mask gone, you just remembered- that Red Hood was now technically the ruler of the underworld.

[ahnsael]

@jimstares replied to your post: “I gave up and called an electrician to install my new light. Not THIS...”:

Also, once you lose the screws or if the screws don't fit, you're in uncharted and unhappy territory. The L&T could tell you stories about my profanity laced tirades when the screws are the wrong size or thread count ;)

Jim, I thank you for your advice and wisdom on all of this (and I had a profanity-laced tirade of my own, so you’re not alone in that).

While the whole “installing it myself” thing didn’t work out (I had a Facebook friend encourage me that I could do it as well, so you weren’t the only one who overestimated my abilities), I DO thank you for doing so almost four years ago when you told a prospective employer that I was god with computers, and when I was able to make her printer print when she could not, you proved me right -- I haven’t forgotten that me lucking my way into the solution, plus your recommendation, helped me get my current gig), 

Sometimes I get it right. Other times, not so much. This time, VERY wrong (and it’s gonna cost be about $200 to get the new light installed, but I have to make sure the new light (since I broke the other new light, apparently) is here on time. I may try a more local electrician and see if I can cancel the one I called yesterday, which wants to charge me $75 for a “travel fee” from Reno (about 50 miles away).

Also, I’ve been thinking about your comment about “looking for new opportunities” a lot lately. I may take your advice on that as well. It’s a “devil you know” vs “devil you don’t” situation.

I may or may not get chewed out tomorrow when I go in for a quarterly department meeting. After not only turning down going back to managing the bar (I JUST DON’T HAVE TIME), but also majorly badmouthing another manager who we ALL know is the weak link.

We’l see how it goes (the boss I sent the email to had questions, but understood; not sure HIS boss will be so understanding when I see him tomorrow). But I am starting to seriously think about putting feelers out there.

I’ve been here for almost four years. And while I have a six-year gap before this on my resume (I just couldn’t convince anyone that I was a right fit), that’s enough tenure to convince people that I’m not going to just leave as soon as they get me trained.

And it’s not my goal to stay at a job for a few years and then leave it (I would like, at some point, to call a “job” a “career” instead, and at 45 years old, I’m still not there).

I like this casino. It’s just...on grave, I’m left a mess of a floor from swing, there are usually a lot of machines on which “low paper” have been completely ignored, the coffe hasthe consistency of tar, and I have to deal with the late-night drug addicts. And the boss I talked to yesterday literally asked “what do you even DO on grave?”

It’s a long-standing thing that other shifts don’t get that we deal with a LOT on grave. And while this boss took ONE of those things away yesterday (one part of my job that I actually enjoyed -- auditing paperwork from the day before and finding the mistakes before Audit catches them and sends messages), it’s still nice to just ignore it and not constantly be stressed over JUST HOW MUCH out staff sucks at paperwork. I mean, they don’t even bother to get a second signature on payout forms that LEGALLY REQUIRE A SECOND SIGNATURE WHEN IT HAPPENS.

I am surrounded by people who just don’t care, which makes it hard for ME to care.

Especially when one of those people who doesn’t care is the main boss. He talks a big game in our manager’s meeting, but NEVER follows through.

I get SO tired of following rules that nobody else takes seriously. With guests, it makes ME look like the asshole if I enforce gaming regs, after THEY threw toose regs aside.

If I can find a better-paying gig when I want out of where I am, I’m probably there. It’s going to come down to the environment and who I would be working with. I worked with a BAD crew once in Illinois. and I turned the job down because of meeting the people I would be working with (I would NOT have meshed with them and I knew it, so I turned the job down).

But I need to have something else lined up BEFORE I put in notice for this job. I’m not risking another 6-year unemployment streak, especially with the way COVID-19 is affecting things right now (we’re one of 36 state  with the virus -- only 14 states have no reported cases so far). That could affect things. So for now, while a friend told me it may be time to look for new opportunities (I’m not going to name you but...that has been sticking with me as maybe the right thing to do at this point despite my loyalty to a company that hired me after six years of unemployment, as a manager when I applied for less than that -- but if you see this you know who you are), I think it may indeed be the right time to look for new opportunities. Another local casino offered me a security job for more than what I make now (not even management; just security) a couple years ago. I turned it down because of the whole “loyalty” thing. I may want to get in touch with them. It’s literally only a block and a half further than I drive now.

I know how hard that would be on my current casino, but...at this point I don’t know how much I care. For once, I’ve gotta do what’s best for ME, not what’s best for my current casino. I don’t know whether this will happen, but I should at least look into it.

To make more money with less responsibility...or to make even MORE than that with the same level of responsibility (even in a larger casino), might not be a bad thing.

Also, I just cancelled the electrician that was based in Reno and was going to charge me a $75 “travel fee” for driving down to help me. The more I thought about it, the more I figure I could find someone local who may charge more per hour, but no travel fee.I probably should have priced them first, (I still have not priced them but this was going to cost me $200 or so just to install a light, without even looking at the second switch and I figure I can do MUCH better than that if I go with a local electrician), but I do appreciate your help with this. If so many pieces hadn’t broken off when I pulled the light down the next day after you told me White was the hot wire, or if I’d done it right in the first place (and not lost those two screws -- even running a strong magnet over the rug didn’t find them), this may have been cheaper.

But you did your absolute best to help, and I truly do appreciate that. While I failed, I’m no electrician so I’m only taking it SEMI-hard that I failed (I should have been able to figure this out, but...I am who I am, and sometimes I have to admit defeat).

THANK YOU for mentioning your profanity-laced tirades so I didn’t feel alone on the ones I had. While I have 100% confidence you know what you’re talking about, it was nice to see that I wasn’t alone in my fristration.

Now to find a local electrician that won’t charge me a $75 travel fee just to come to my house.

Fortunately, the guy on the phone from the company I hired yesterday (he doesn’t answer the phone with an electrician company name which also gave me pause) was very understanding and made my cancellation painless and didn’t try to charge me for it.

[badolmen]

@billy-hoepe​ in this house we disregard canon characters’ deaths and substitute wholesome fanfiction for depressing canon.

Miles looked down on the Morphogenic Engine room, the life support pods like a marble collection. Some where cracked, others streaked with blood, or entirely dyed red. One was illuminated, the Engine’s screen flickering with indecipherable black and white images that reflected on the glass prison of William “Billy” Hope.

He looked around the room, the quiet and stillness no reassurance of safety, but he sat in an office chair, catching his breath and catching up with his still reeling thoughts. There was silence, except for the hum of electricity and the omnipresent static that had invaded the journalist’s thoughts. But there was no immediate danger. Walker had gotten his due, at the hands of the very thing Wernicke had asked, maybe even begged, Miles to kill.

And nothing about it felt right.

Thumbing through his notes, camcorder resting precariously on the many buttons and levers of the control panel, the more he thought about it, the less sense it made to kill Billy. He was young, he had only been admitted to Mount Massive four years ago, and none of the files Miles had found said why he had been admitted. From the notes, he seemed normal, if a little childish, compared to the other patients.

No one could leave while Billy lived. Or that’s what Wernicke had said. It sparked some familiar itch of curiosity in Miles, the same feeling of anticipation and vengeful spite to understand and share that understanding at the expense of the corrupt. Was the Walrider limited to Mount Massive Asylum? By what? The chamber doors did not block the exit, as far as Miles had seen before the apparition stopped him.

It seemed more likely that the Walrider could only travel a fixed distance from its host. Down here, it was stronger, more corporeal than the flickers he had seen in the upper levels. Down here it could pick up Chris Walker and throw him around like a rag doll before stuffing his corpse into a ventilation shaft.

Why had the Walrider done that? Why would it save Miles if, as Wernicke said with such confidence, it only planned on slaughtering him? It could just enjoy the thrill of the hunt, but then why had it not attacked Miles since he attempted to leave? How much control did Billy have over the specter, and how much control did it have over him?

In his racing mind, thoughts blurred by pain and logic viewed through static, Miles decided that the Walrider wanted something. It wanted freedom. Would it continue its slaughter? Or was it satisfied with the blood of those who had brought it here, who had tortured its hosts?

And why would Wernicke ask Miles, a shell shocked, blood soaked stranger with a camcorder, to kill the host of something that bordered between a deity and a demon? Why the fuck should he trust a man who was supposed to be dead? Who had helped orchestrate the monstrosity of Mount Massive? He glanced at the security cameras in the corners of the control room, beady black lenses glaring down with impatience. Could Wernicke see him?

So many questions. So few answers.

Miles rubbed his face, aware of the blood streaking across his cheeks from the stubs of his fingers. Maybe there was some untainted medical supplies down here.

A tap on the glass.

He couldn’t help but flinch, the muscle memory of shrinking from every unexpected sound already too deep in his bones. His eyes slowly lifted from the notes, past the softly glowing buttons and switches of the terminal to the window that separated the control room from the engine room.

The swarm of darkness hovered, its form constantly twitching and shifting, vaguely resembling a human. It somehow looked more human than many of the Variants Miles had seen in the last few hours. The Walrider had no eyes, but Miles could feel its gaze on his face; it was patient, watching, waiting.

Miles hadn’t spoken in hours. Adrenaline, the acrid smell of death that filled every breath, and pure fear had kept him silent, words a waste on the pure insanity of this building of horrors. Even Wernicke wasn’t given a word of confirmation, Miles too panicked and confused to form coherent sentences, let alone responses to the sheer, terrible absurdity he had been immersed in.

The words were slow, slurred by exhaustion and rough from screaming.

“What do you want?” It wasn’t a charged statement, full of hate or fear. It was empty. Beaten and apathetic, lacking any venom or sarcasm. He hardly expected an answer, the swirling, living shadow barely reacting to the sound. Which made its whispery, static filled voice all the more startling.

“Wir wollen nach Hause gehen.” The words were coming from everywhere and nowhere. They vibrated in Miles’ bones and echoed in the back of his mind, the syllables punctuated with the shrillness of auditory feedback from a poor microphone speaker setup. The ringing in his ears stopped, and the journalist looked back to the Walrider.

“Ich niecht sprekt Deutch,” Miles managed, butchering the foreign language. He had spent a few week’s in Germany, years ago on some story far less blood-soaked as the Murkoff corporation. He hadn’t been very fluent in the language then, but he at least recognized the language, and what seemed to be the word “house,” whatever that meant in the context of an abomination of Nazi science and spiritualism.

The Walrider almost seemed to blink, the nanites that made its corporeal form flickering briefly where Miles supposed eyelids could be. The shadow dissipated from sight, Miles watching the grey and black dust disintegrate into thin air.

The loud smack against the glass nearly gave him a heart attack, though he wasn’t really sure what he expected from the being that had slaughtered so many already. Miles didn’t question where it got the blood. He grimaced at the blood spatter, too desensitized to worse to be wholly disgusted when the Walrider began to trace shapes onto the glass.

A circle with lines inside it. The circle broken into two, jagged pieces. A sloppy rendition of the exit sign.  

“I gotta get Billy out of his pod or whatever to leave this hellhole?” The Walrider nodded. They were communicating. Specifically, Miles was communicating with some sort of interdimensional spirit demon thing that required a physical host traumatized enough and in the right way to produce nanite robotics using their cells. He put his notebook away, and picked up his camcorder, the apparition swaying slightly.

“Okay, okay, fuck, okay, so,” Miles took a breath. He hadn’t spoken on camera in hours. He hadn’t had much he could say without sounding crazy himself. But the thing in front of him was on camera. And was waiting. “This, uh, Walrider wants me to break its host, Billy, out of his pod down there, and I think my only other option is to kill the host, or whatever the hell that Nazi fuck was talking about,”

Miles approached the entrance to the Morphogenic Engine room. The second he opened the barrier the Walrider could tear him to pieces. It could rip him apart from the inside. It waited by the stairs, shifting form like thousands of flies.

“I think I’m going with the former, so if I die doing this shit, know that I’ve had a very long, fucked up night, and just want to go home, I don’t want anybody else to get hurt,” Miles breathed a shaky sigh, his hands aching. Killing Trager was satisfying, but Miles was a reporter. Not a murderer.

No matter how much relief washed over him when Chris Walker was shredded through a ventilation grate, no matter the panic and chaos that killed Trager, Miles wasn’t a fighter. Billy was one of the few people in this damned shitshow that hadn’t actively attempted to mutilate, murder, or do worse to Miles. Was it sane to trust the demigod like being that had started this nightmare of slaughter and lunacy? He would find out.

The door slid open, the gush of sterile air cold and dry. The Walrider did not attack him. Miles descending the stairs, camera on and breathing unsteady as he approached the dreaded Morphogenic Engine, the engineering abomination that created this mess.

And Billy Hope, the only living human being besides Miles, eyes vacant at the flickering screen.

Miles didn’t know what half the tubes and wires fed, read, or carried. They were life support, monitoring equipment, and presumably linked to the massive machine that hummed above. The Walrider kept a few paces away, watching Miles with an almost cautionary gaze.

“So, I don’t suppose you know how to get him out without killing him, huh?” Miles asked aloud. The Walrider gave a growl of static. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you would have done it on your own if you could, no need keeping me around otherwise. Right. So, where the fuck should I start?”

He was very much aware that the Walrider wouldn’t respond, at least not in an intelligible manner that Miles could understand. Talking, even to himself, after so long of keeping silent was refreshing. It helped him feel less terrified of the swarm of nanites hovering over his shoulder.

He looked over the terminal, alight with finger scanners and electricity. The machine had hundreds, thousands of buttons and lights. Touching any of them could kill Billy or provoke the Walrider.

“Y’know for being the thing that wants me to get you outta here, you aren’t being any help,” Miles muttered, pointing the camcorder to the swarm. It hissed softly. “Then show me what the fuck you want me to do ya creepy fuck,” It mimed an action. “Oh fuck no, you’ll just shred me if he dies, or whatever,” The Walrider mimed the action again. “I don’t have a choice, do I?” The Walrider growled. Miles did not have a choice.

“Playing fucking charades with a shadow demon, this is just how my night is going,” Miles sighed, setting down his camcorder on the machine’s terminal, facing the pod. He needed something heavy. A fire extinguisher would do. He wrenched it from the back wall, muffling a whimper of pain as his fingers curled around the cold metal.

“By the way, Walrider, demon, thing, uh, do you plan on killing more people once we get outta this hellhole? Cause if that’s your plan I don’t think I should be doing this, in good conscience and all,”

It hissed at him, ever shifting face baring black fangs.

“Y’know what? I’ll take that as a no. You seem to be the most reasonable, sentient being in this fucked up hell hole. Does that sound like a plan? I get you and Billy out of this place, you don’t cause Armageddon or whatever the fuck it is you would do to society. Deal?”

A growl.

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Miles said, setting down the fire extinguisher as he sized up the pod. He doubted he could shatter it without hurting the occupant, but it was what the Walrider wanted. “Just so we’re clear, uh,” Miles looked to the Walrider, who hovered expectantly over the pod. “If I fuck this up, could you, like, not kill me? Or at least kill me quick. Whichever is easier,”

Static hummed in the back of his mind, pressure building in his ears as it reached a high pitch. He picked up the fire extinguisher, trying to find the best way to hold it with his mangled hands.

“Here goes nothing.”

The glass shattered more easily than he had expected, buckling under the first blow from the fire extinguisher. The liquid inside was sticky and cold, a strong saline smell that brought back memories of his research into Cargill’s human rights abuses in their Peruvian salt mines immediately filling the air.

Billy was still inside the pod, wires and tubes now pulling against his weight and drawing blood. His eyes were still fixated on the screen, dull and passive. An alarm was blaring, softened by distance and the walls that separated Miles from the main hallways. The Walrider was screaming, its form swirling and shifting. Billy was dying.

“Fuck, I’m working on it, fuck, just, just give me a second,” Miles muttered, stepping through the glass on the floor to reach inside the pod, icy liquid squelching uncomfortably beneath his shoes. It was better than blood. A lot about the very heart of Mount Massive was better than the gore and insanity above. “Let’s get you down buddy,”

The restraints were tight, leaving behind imprints on the smaller man’s wrists. Released from the manacles, Billy slumped forward, atrophied muscles in his arms unused to being free from their position wrenched behind his back. The wires and tubes attached to his back and chest were taught, blood streaking down his emaciated ribs and bony spine. Above the Walrider flickered from side to side, shrieking unintelligibly.

He couldn’t imagine how long it took the Murkoff staff to shove these tubes down Billy’s throat, put needles at every joint and wind electrodes around his limbs.  Miles grimaced as he quickly removed the tubing and wires that seemed to be imbedded and wound around every inch of Billy’s body, electrodes and needles dangling from their threads inside the empty pod as he pried them from freezing flesh.

He was cold and heavy, skin dull like wax as Miles lifted Billy over the broken glass to set him down on the floor. Billy wasn’t breathing. His pulse was absent from thin, blood soaked wrists. How long had it been since he had drawn breath on his own? Could he breathe on his own?

Miles started compressions, the Walrider’s static screams growing angrier and more panicked. It hurt, his bloodied hands needled with pain at every compression. Two breaths. More compressions. He needed to breathe, but Billy stayed still and silent. Two more breaths. Miles was slowing down, losing the rhythm as panic began to set in his bones. The shadow above was in agony, writhing and hissing. The Walrider charged forward, teeth bared and snarling.

Then Billy coughed. And breathed.

His eyes were bright, dark pupils the size of saucers and iris a mere ribbon of pale blue. Billy gasped for air, throat ragged, and breaths choked.

“There – there you go, breathe, Billy, just breathe,” Miles managed through his own gasping breaths of receding panic. The Walrider was gone. For now. Billy twitched and groaned, nothing more than a whimper of fear and pain escaping his blue lips as he shivered, trying to curl away from Miles, who had retrieved his camera from the Engine’s bright control panels.

“No, no, hey – hey, it’s okay, I’m not,” Miles swallowed the lump in his throat, his blood stained, mauled hands reaching out in a gesture of comfort that suddenly seemed less than friendly. He curled his hands away, pulling them closer to his chest. “My name is Miles. You’re Billy, right? I’m here to get us out, okay? I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

Billy stopped inching away, arms and legs shaking from strain, cold, and fear, but his eyes held a gleam of something that might have been hope, and relief.

“Okay, here, you’re freezing,” Miles too off his jacket, wrapping it around Billy’s shaking shoulders. “That better?” The jacket was warm, heavy with the scent of blood and sweat. Billy nodded. “Can you get up? On your own?” Billy could barely sit up on his own, head lolling weakly side to side. “Okay, is it alright, alright if I help you up?” He nodded.

Miles wrapped an arm around Billy, the smaller man’s cold arm slung over his neck. He was heavy. Stiff. His skin seemed almost ashen in the cold light, steps shaking and feet unsure as they made their way to the stairs.

“Take it easy, the exit’s just down this way,” Miles said as they limped down the hall, slowly going over palettes and containers that blocked the path. Even with Miles’ jacket, Billy shivered incessantly, cold fingers gripping the reporter’s shoulder for stability. A few more paces and they would be at the exit.

The doors opened, Miles bracing at the sight of the heavily armed men surrounding Wernicke’s withered, sickly frame. He could feel Billy shake even more violently, from fear rather than the cold in his bones. His eyes were wide with panic, darting over the masks and guns to the old man’s skeletal face and angry eyes.

“You are a fool, I had hoped you would have had the sense to kill this monster, not release it,” Wernicke’s voice slurred, Billy nervously glancing from Miles’ aggrieved expression to the doctor. There was the click of a gun safety.

Billy didn’t know when Miles had pushed him to the side, behind a stack of containers. The first thing he knew that it hurt. His bones hurt. His joints hurt. His head hurt. The second thing he knew was that Miles was hurt, the gunshot a distant echo in his scattered mind. Red was on the floor, a growing puddle. He smelled copper and gunpowder.

The image of Miles, gripping his shoulder, camera still clutched in one hand, glaring up at the men in the doorway, was the last thing Billy Hope remembered before unconsciousness ate away at his vision like rust. The last thing he heard was the rattle of gunfire, and screams.

[highly-opinionated-nerd]

(For anon, who wanted modern au with blind Hiji and ‘stalker’ Gin. I hope you like it, thanks for the request!)

A few short weeks ago, Hijikata had been a decorated police officer with a promising future and a job he could say he was proud of. But then, driving home one evening, he’d swerved to avoid a pedestrian in the street and had crashed head-on into a telephone pole.

Everything after that point was a big blur. There had been fire, he vaguely remembered. Flashing ambulance lights and the clean smell of the hospital. Bandages that covered so much of his skin, he could hardly move. It had been a few days before he regained real consciousness, and the doctor had told him what had happened to him.

Even after the bandages came off, his sight had never returned. Everything was dark, all the time, and probably always would be. Forever.

But he was determined not to let that impede him. Hijikata hated the label of ‘disability,’ and didn’t want anything to do with it. He was fine. He wasn’t disabled, he just had to be careful. He’d be fine.

That said, he had been standing in the kitchen for at least two minutes now, waving his arms in front of him, trying to find the doorway back to the living room, without any success.

From the other room he heard the sound of the door opening and some shuffling footsteps. He was facing the right way, after all...then where was the stupid door?

“Oi, Hijikata, you here?”

“I’m in the kitchen.”

More footsteps. “...What are you doing?”

“Nothing. I’ve got it under control.”

“Right, sure you do. Here, take my arm.”

“No, I said I’ve got it.”

“Look man, I was hired to be your assistant, remember? Your pal Kondo pays me to assist you when he’s busy at work. So, are you gonna let me do my job, or not?”

Hijikata sighed and put his arms down. “Ok,” he muttered, “fine.”

“Alright then.” Gintoki offered Hijikata his arm and gently led him out of the door (three feet in front of where Hijikata had thought it was) back to the living room.

“You’re not even supposed to be up and about yet, dude. You gotta build your strength up.”

“I got hungry.”

“So I see. Risking everything for a cup of pudding. You know, I could get behind that.”

Gintoki put the opened pudding into Hijikata’s hand, along with a plastic spoon. Hijikata didn’t even like pudding. But it was the first thing he’d grabbed.

“So, how have you been feeling? Any better, or still the same.”

“I told you, I’m fine.”

“Right, and I’m a blonde in a school uniform skirt.”

Hijikata ate a spoonful of pudding, stubbornly refusing to answer.

“How’s your hearing? Is it true that your hearing gets better if you can’t see?”

“I don’t know, I think it’s about the same.”

“Aw, that’s a shame. Would you tell me if you developed super hearing?”

“No.”

Gintoki chuckled a little. Hijikata didn’t know anything about him, other than they were about the same age and height. Kondo had made it sound like Gintoki was a little bit of a deadbeat, which Hijikata wouldn’t have doubted. But, even if he was a deadbeat, he laughed readily and talked to Hijikata like a real person, unlike the stupid hospital nurses, who had treated him as a total invalid.

“I’m gonna tidy up a little around here. I know it might not matter to you, but it’s better than leaving everything dusty. At least, I think it is. You want the tv on, or something?”

“Yeah. News should be on in a few minutes.”

“News, gotcha. Here, here’s the remote. The volume control and the power buttons have little bumps on them, see?”

“Yes.” Hijikata took the remote and settled down on the couch. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was still pretty weak, and tired. Having Gintoki around was actually a big help. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing. You got a vacuum cleaner?”

“In the hall closet.”

“Is it going to hurt your super-ears if I-”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Kondo came in a few hours later. He had been Hijikata’s senior officer at work. The two of them had known each other for years, and he had been the one helping Hijikata most since his accident.

“Hey there, Toshi! Ah, and Gintoki, too.”

“Hello, Kondo-san.”

“Sup.”

The news was long over, and Gintoki was sitting on the couch with Hijikata, watching black and white reruns of old shows neither of them had ever heard of.

“How was work?”

“Aaahhh, same as usual. Nothing very interesting to report.”

“What about that thing I asked you to look into?”

“Oh...” Hijikata could picture the look on Kondo’s face perfectly- his nervous, hesitating tone gave him away. “Sorry Toshi, I didn’t find anything.”

“What are we talking about?”

“Someone’s been following me lately,” Hijikata said, frowning in what he thought was Kondo’s direction. “I’m not making this up, there really is something here, Kondo-san. I wasn’t lying.”

“I know you weren’t, Toshi. I’ll keep an eye out, I swear.”

“Thanks.”

“Anyway, you can go now, Gintoki. Thanks for all your help, as usual.”

“No problem. I’ll be back tomorrow, Hijikata.”

“Right. See you then.”

Hijikata hadn’t been sleeping well recently. It was the whole blindness thing, throwing off his body’s natural rhythm, he thought.

He’d lost count of how many nights he’d laid awake in bed for hours, and he was tired of it. He was tired in general. Something had to change.

There was a CVS just a block from his place. He’d walked there hundreds of times before. There was a paved sidewalk the whole way, and he wouldn’t even have to cross any streets. And once he was there, he could ask the clerk for help finding some sleeping pills. How hard could it be?

It took him a little while to lock the door behind him, but he managed it. Then he started off down the sidewalk, feeling proud of himself.

He probably would’ve made it to the store, if not for the fact that just that morning, road workers had fenced off part of the sidewalk that had a large pothole in it for repairs. Hijikata tripped over the fencing and fell hard, scraping his hands and knees pretty bad.

“Shit,” he muttered. He’d lost hold of his wallet in the fall, and had no way of seeing where it had gone. If he couldn’t find it...

“Hey, man, are you ok?!”

Hijikata’s head whipped around, towards the sound of the voice. “Gintoki? Is that you?”

“Yeah. I saw you fall. Your hand is bleeding, but it’s not bad. Here, let me help-”

“What are you doing here,” Hijikata demanded, suddenly very, very suspicious. “You left hours ago. Why are you here?”

“I’m...I was...just...oh, shit. Hijikata, please, hear me out, ok, I swear I was just trying to-”

“Answer the question!”

“I’m the one who’s been following you.”

Hijikata balled his fists. He had just started to consider Gintoki a friend. “Why.”

“I was looking out for you. Because, I guess I felt guilty. I’m the one who caused your accident, Hijikata. It was me.”

“That was you?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, Hijikata. It’s my fault this happened to you, I didn’t know what to do, I’m s-so sorry-”

“Are you crying?”

“No.” Sniff. “Ok, maybe a little. I’m sorry.”

“Give me your hand.”

Wordlessly, Gintoki reached out and put his hand in Hijikata’s. Hijikata leaned in, staring towards where he assumed his face was and said quietly, “I’m going to have to write you a ticket for this, you know.”

Gintoki made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Yeah, sure, I deserve that.”

“And then, we’re going back home, because it’s late and I’m tired. You can crash on the couch, I guess.”

“Wha- You’re not firing me? Even though I was like, stalking you?”

“Unfortunately, you’re the only assistant I have right now.” Hijikata smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “I don’t blame you, Gintoki. Just, be more careful next time.”

“I will. I’m sorry.”

“I know. Now let’s go home.”

[passionate-hedgehog]

Spencer X Reader

Prompts #28- “You gotta stop doing that.” “What?” “Saying things that make me wanna kiss you.” & #30-  “The problem is,” he said as he leaned in. “If I kiss you now, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

A/N: This one was requested by @mishacastiel.

You're going to notice that these follow the same basics as the other ones. To make it easier for me they’ll all be connected somehow. It’s going to be canon/non-canon...does that make sense?

This is also as far as I’m going to get with smut, not very far. It’s not my thing. It’s totally insinuated in some posts, because whereas I’m abstinent by faith I’m not as disillusioned as to think that everyone I write about is. I’m still not going to write it, though.  

I got lots of requests for #30 and instead of re-using it I decided to keep it to this one. I think it pairs very well with #28 anyway. It’s like a good wine and cheese pairing...and now I want wine. Sigh.

OH YEAH- I should have mentioned this when I started this whole “Spencer imagines” thing that I’m fairly new to the fandom. I started two weeks ago, and as of me typing this on my laptop, I’m halfway through season 5. I’m really glad a co-worker slipped some info to me on this season beforehand because if I had gone into these episodes blind...I would have given up hope on all things love and pure. That brings me to my next question: Who does Hotch imagine?

You’d had a hard day at work. Some days were hectic as all get out and some days were so boring that you couldn’t wait to get out of your shift and do something productive (or just really fun) before you conked for a few hours. That particular shift was longer than anticipated. One of your residents ended up having to go to the ER. It was your first time going. Ever.

When you got in the passenger seat of the ambulance, you texted Spencer, your boyfriend of 2 and a half months. He was at home in his own bed, probably not awake yet for the day (your co-worker had called 911 at the end of your 3rd shift). When he didn’t reply for the duration of the ride to the hospital, you decided to just leave it for the time being. You had to leave lines of communication open with your supervisors and home managers anyway. Hospital visits could get busy, you’ve heard from your fellow co-workers. You wouldn’t have time.

After your resident had been set up into the ER, you checked your phone for the time. There were messages from the appropriate people at work but still nothing from Spencer. The guy wasn’t always a morning person, so it didn’t bother you, not entirely. To be honest, though, you kind of missed him. You hadn’t seen him in 2 days. It could get difficult when he was always away on cases, and you worked the night shift.

After Gertrude was finally officially admitted into the hospital from the emergency room, you were made to go home as per company policy. It was hard, though, because she was your favorite resident and you weren’t sure when you would see her again. You were positive that her condition wasn’t life-threatening, but she was a DNR, do not resuscitate. You still had fear. But your boss was your ride home and she was waiting for you out in the parking lot.

After giving Gert a slight kiss on the temple (she was hella knocked out), you made your way to the elevators and then eventually to the car. After writing your incident report in the car, you finally arrived at your apartment. You thanked your boss and made your way through your front door. You heaved a sigh and took off your jacket, then hanged it up. When you kicked off your shoes, you cocked your head and listened. After receiving no reply from your text early, you had hoped Spencer was going to surprise you. You should have known better.

Again, you weren’t completely offended. It was nearing lunchtime, and there was always a chance that he had to fly to a different city in a different state. It was OK. It was totally OK.

“I need Haagen-Dazs,” you heavily sighed. Sometimes the ice cream helped with the little white lies you told yourself.

When the pint of raspberry white chocolate truffle was opened, you grabbed a spoon and proceeded to throw yourself onto the sofa in the living room. You turned on the t.v. and prayed that The Price Is Right was on. Apparently, you were just going to keep receiving disappointments as the day wore on. You should have gone to bed, but your mind couldn’t stop racing.

After you had checked your phone, totally not the hundredth time since you first texted your boyfriend, you stood up for something. Of course, you forgot what it was and sat right back down. You got up again and started pacing after groaning at the sky.

“What is wrong with meeee?”

Nobody answered, you were home alone after all, and you weren’t sure if you should cry, take a shower, or try to sleep. Knowing that sleep was nowhere near possible, you decided to shower. Maybe you’d cry in there? I am losing my ever-loving mind.

When the hot shower didn’t do anything, you decided to switch it to cold to shave your legs. Why am I shaving in cold water, you shrugged but continued to skim the razor over your soaped up legs. You turned off the not-so-helpful water and ran your hands over your legs and made sure you didn’t miss anything. That’s when you got inspired.

“Why the eff am I home, alone, when I have a key to my boyfriend’s apartment that has rockin WiFi,” you asked yourself while you were still bent over feeling your legs. “And why am I talking to myself and asking questions?”

You scrounged your bedroom looking for a cute shirt to put on over your best pair of jeans. The one you picked was a hyacinth blue. When you looked at the ever growing pile of dirty clothes, you decided to use Spencer’s built-in amenities. He drank your coffee, you used his laundry detergent. Give and take, give and take.

The weather wasn’t too obscene for mid-February, and you decided to just walk the few blocks to his building. You were really glad that your job sometimes included lifting your residents and maneuvering their bodies because that laundry bag was no joke. You needed to remember that you were an adult and that you had to do your own laundry more than once a week.

Pfft, yeah okay.+

After making it up to his floor and throwing your jacket and extra key onto his side table, you walked into his bedroom. You sat the bag on the ground and decided to go for a pair of his sweats and sat on the bed to try to roll up the pant legs. That had failed miserably, and you threw your body back on his dark blue comforter in more frustration.

You stared up at his white ceiling and smiled when you tried to imagine what Little Spencer’s walls looked like all those years ago. I bet he had those glow-in-the-dark star stickers and I bet he put them in constellations. Your thoughts of what kid Spencer was like led you to the nap you so desperately needed. Dreams of being a kid and being Spencer’s playmate took over any frustrations you had following your shift.

When you awoke, it was to your best friend with his arm around your waist and his chest to your back. Sometimes your legs intertwining made it onto you Favorite’s list.

Okay, it made the list all the time. It was the top 3.

His even breathing into your hair made you realize that he was taking his own nap. From the corner of your eye, you could tell that the sky outside was darkening, but there were still splashes of pink and orange. You began to crave Superman ice cream and held in one of your groans of frustration.

That explains it! “My period!”

You quickly latched your hand to your mouth when you realized that you yelled that last part but it didn’t matter. Spencer’s hold was tightening, and you could hear him yawning from behind you. You held your breath and tried to wait it out, but he started stretching. You rolled your eyes.

“Awesome.”

“Hmm?” Your boyfriend had hummed in confusion.

“Nothing, Spence. Go back to sleep.” The hand that was resting against his arm began to make soothing motions, but it got trapped by a bigger one.

Spencer must have mentally decided he was over looking at the back of your head because he pulled moved you onto your other side, to face him. He gave one of his beautiful lazy smiles and blinked softly. You just gazed into his eyes, waiting for him to get to the awareness level he wanted to be at. Given, not aware might be what he wanted.

When he didn’t snuggle up to you to go back to sleep, you realized that he was waiting on you for confirmation that it was okay to return to slumberland.

“Go back to sleep, Hun.” You fingers raked gently through his hair. “You gotta be exhausted. You had knocked the heck out when I woke up.”

He scrunched his nose in disagreement. “But you’re awake. When you’re awake, I’m awake.”

“Well, that’s not true. If that were the case, then neither of us would be getting any sleep ever,” you chuckled.

He chuckled and responded with “Oh the things we do for our careers. I’d go many moons without sleep if it meant I could get to spend more time with you.”

Blushing, you gave a soft snort. “Maybe if you could survive without resting that giant noodle of yours.”

“Okay Miss Smarty Pants, how long did it take you to give in to sleep after your shift, huh?” He was on his elbow now.

You followed suit. “Not that long. I’ll have you know, I got an adequate amount sleep.”

When his eyes narrowed at you, you held in your sigh of resignation. You weren’t going to give in that easily. Spencer couldn’t always win, could he?

“You got home, almost 5 hours after your shift was supposed to end, and went immediately for the ice cream. Haagen-Dazs to be more specific. You tried to do something to waste time, probably watch t.v. or read. I’m going to guess t.v. since your hands were busy. After you ate ALL the ice cream, you eventually decided to come over here and apparently do laundry. When that, for whatever reason, didn’t work out you decided to come in here and get comfy. Am I right?”

You didn’t answer him, so his fingers skimmed your sides, making you giggle.

“FINE. Yes. Yes, you’re right.”

“Thank you.”

“Mostly right, anyway. Not all of it was right. You missed the part about what happened after I came in here.”

“Oh?”

“I laid on your bed and imagined what your childhood ceiling looked like, imagined being your friend all those years ago. If you could see the stars from where you lay and if they were in all the right constellations. I bet you would have spent hours laying with me telling me them all, name by name. You would have traced them out with my hand.”

Spencer watched carefully as you drew out the only constellation you knew on the back of his arm, making goosebumps raise. He didn’t say anything.

“You would have taken the time to explain everything to me and made sure I understood it. You would have been patient with me too, and that’s more than what I would have deserved. Even after I would have zoned out, not that I would have wanted to, you would have kept tracing the constellations. There would have been nothing that could make you give up on me. Just like there would have been nothing that could have made me give up on you.”

When he still didn’t respond, his eyes never leaving yours, you went on. “Just like how there’s still nothing that could make me ever want to give up on you. Because you’re mine, and I love you.”

“Y/n,” he hummed your name and if that wasn’t one of the best sounds you had ever heard… “You gotta stop doing that.”

“What?”

“Saying things that make me wanna kiss you. The problem is,” Spencer said as he leaned in. “If I kiss you now, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

You fluttered your eyes clothes as he ran a hand down your spine and left it there at the base. You had re-opened your eyes to discover his were now sparkling and full of mischief. There was a side of Spencer you didn’t always get to see, and it was beginning to come out. Blessedly, it was a part of Spencer that only you ever got to witness.

A few moments slipped by, and he didn’t do anything else. You softly ran your fingernails from behind his ears and along his lower hairline to the nape of his neck, causing him to shiver. He didn’t move from his position, though. He was still halfway leaned in.

You lowered your hand and gently rested it on his waist, your thumb briefly disappearing under his shirt. He took it was a sign to gently lower you on your back but his eyes still never left you.

How blessed can I be, you thought, that I have such a wonderful man by my side to guide me through the worst of times and rejoice with me through the best of times.

Unbeknownst to you, he was thinking the same thing but mirrored.

When his lips touched the base of your throat, you arched your back and gave a soft moan. There wasn’t a sign of him letting up, and then you remembered and began to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” He had asked when you didn’t cease.

“Oh man,” you wiped the tears from your eyes. “I completely forgot, and that could have been an extra mess we wouldn’t need.”

He kept his penance of confusion but raised his eyebrow.

“I just started my period. We won’t be having any of ‘that’ for a while.”

“And that’s funny because...”

“Because if I’m not laughing, I’ll cry and that’s about 3 more pints of ice cream you don’t have.”

Spencer lowered himself back onto the bed and sighed.

“Alright, but there’s ways around that.”

You had slid off the bed and headed towards the en-suite.  “Yeah, not a chance. Good try though,” you say as you walk into the bathroom and close the door, still laughing.

[markdewdney]

In May of 2016, I reported on the case of Solomon Galloway, a Las Vegas man who was illegally detained, assaulted, and falsely arrested by one the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department’s “Saturation Teams” in February of that year. At the time, Galloway was the passenger in a vehicle driven by a co-worker, which had been stopped under the stated claim that he was speeding (more on that below).

The original pretense for that arrest and accompanying violent, illegal actions was Mr. Galloway’s refusal to identify himself. However, the passenger in a vehicle that has been stopped for a traffic violation is not considered a party to that infraction. As a result, they are not under any obligation to identify themselves. In fact, legally Galloway could have gotten out of the car and walked away from the traffic stop. (Since the actions of the driver do not represent the “reasonable suspicion” required to legally detain a passenger, they are “free to go.”)

Lacking a legitimate reason to detain Galloway, let alone arrest him, Metro’s designated harassment squad settled on the old standby of “I smelled pot.” They then embarked on a fruitless and illegal search of the car to hopefully find something to justify their illegal against against their victim. In the process, they even discussed amongst each other their need to “do what ever you gotta to do, because we gotta find something.” Unfortunately for them, they didn’t find anything at all.

Even more unfortunately for them, Galloway had placed a GoPro camera on his dashboard, which he turned on just after they were stopped. Unbeknownst to them, the entire incident, including the illegal search and that incriminating conversation, had been recorded on the GoPro. That included a statement from the supervisor on the scene, Lieutenant Connell, that they should “just arrest his ass and strip him,” once they finally gave up on finding anything to rationalize their actions. Galloway was then falsely arrested, taken to jail, and subjected to a humiliating and illegal strip search. All of which still failed to justify the obstruction charge that they eventually settled on.

It was already incredibly obvious from the GoPro video (which was later featured in a documentary about corruption among Las Vegas police entitled, “What Happened in Vegas“) that the LVMPD officers involved were completely lying and fabricating a reason to justify what they knew was a false arrest (and illegal demand for ID to begin with). Now however, body cam footage from the officer that initiated the stop, as well as another officer that participated in the assault on Galloway, have been released as part of discovery. One of the interesting aspects of those body camera videos is that in the beginning of the first officer’s footage you can actually see his speedometer as he’s driving. What that shows is that even the original justification for the stop was based on a lie.

Contrary to that officer’s claims about their speed (which fluctuated at various points in the video between them going either 55 or 65 mph when he pulled them over), they were in fact going below the 45 mph speed limit. Therefore they didn’t even have legal cause to pull them over in the first place. Nor did they have the reasonable suspicion of a crime necessary to justify detaining even the driver of that vehicle. That makes it even more obvious that everything that was done to Galloway, who was the passenger, after the illegal traffic stop was initiated was both unjustifiable and illegal, as well.

The badly disguised reality is that this was nothing more than a case of racial profiling and simple harassment. The LVMPD deploys what they call saturation teams into certain neighborhoods they have decided they want to concentrate on. These saturation teams descend upon those neighborhoods looking for any excuse to stop and harass the residents who live there. Even such minuscule “crimes” as jaywalking on a residential street or having a bicycle without a reflector are used to justify demanding ID from and attempting to question a person.

They are essentially just playing the odds in the hope that if they harass enough people within a chosen area they will find a certain percentage of individuals who have warrants or something illegal on them and that are willing to consent to a search to justify an arrest. Statistically, that makes the department look good, but it doesn’t make up for the fact that the vast majority of the people in any given neighborhood are not actually criminals and don’t deserve to be indiscriminately harassed because a cop has arbitrarily decided they “do not belong” in that neighborhood.

The other side of that equation is that the areas that the LVMPD targets for their saturation teams are invariably those inhabited predominantly by poor and minority residents. In fact, some years ago a Metro spokesperson went so far as to explicitly state to the Las Vegas Review Journal that they would not use saturation tactics against residents living in the wealthy suburb of Summerlin.

As is noted in the video’s title, Galloway and his friend were stopped because they were people of color driving an expensive car within a geographical region that the LVMPD had deemed to be suspect. Everything that happened after that was a result of him not “respecting their authoritah.” An authority that they did not legally have and that he had every legal (and moral) right not to respect.

Video Featuring Police Body Camera Footage and GoPro Video

Original GoPro Video

Related Posts Submitted By or About Stephen Stubbs:

Those of you that have followed CopBlock.org over the past several years are probably already aware that Stephen Stubbs has been a frequent subject of posts on NVCopBlock.org. He often represents bikers and motorcycle organizations, whom are frequent targets of harassment from the police. In addition, I have personally worked with Stephen in the past on several occasions through Nevada Cop Block on issues or cases involving his clients or on know your rights seminars he has done within the Las Vegas area.

Therefore, there is a pretty lengthy (and growing) list of posts on the Nevada Cop Block site involving Stephen Stubbs, his clients, and/or people or groups he is associated with. Included below are links to those posts.

Know Your Rights Seminar Held in Las Vegas by Attorney Stephen Stubbs (Video)

Las Vegas Know Your Rights Seminar by Attorney Stephen Stubbs to be Held March 23rd

“What Happened in Vegas” Isn’t Staying in Las Vegas; Documentary on Police Brutality Premiers at Cinequest

Nevada CopBlock Founder Arrested While Filming Las Vegas Metro Police

LVMPD Caught on Body Camera Admitting They Arrested Man For Singing F*ck The Police

Las Vegas Attorney Stephen Stubbs Explains How Not To Get Beaten And/Or Shot By The Police

The LVMPD Gang Task Force is Corrupt and it Extends All the Way to the Top

Head of LVMPD Internal Affairs Ordered to Answer Perjury/Withholding Evidence Charges in Court

Head of LVMPD Internal Affairs Accused of Perjury; Judge Recused Self Due to “Negative Opinion” of Her

Boulder City (NV) Police “Employee of the Year” Commits Perjury to Arrest Man Interfering With Revenue Generation

Las Vegas Metro Police Illegally Search; Sexually Assault Innocent Man to Justify Bullshit Arrest

Las Vegas Attorney Stephen Stubbs: “Stand Up and Tell the Truth” – Why #PoliceLiesMatter

Man Beaten by Las Vegas Police For Not Moving Fast Enough Awarded $31,500 Settlement

Full Waco Twin Peaks Biker Shooting Videos; Witness Statement Made Public

Know Your Rights Seminar At Las Vegas “Rally For Your Rights”

Waco, TX; Twin Peaks Shootings Arrests – June 10th Call Flood

Nevada Police Chief Resigns After Protecting Animal Shelter Supervisor Who Killed Pets

Fired NV Police Chief Ordered to Pay Punitive Damages in Abuse of Authority Lawsuit

Las Vegas Attorney Stephen Stubbs Found Not Guilty in 5th Amendment Right to Counsel Case

Game Over for Insert Coins’ and Their Abusive Bouncers

Dance, Dance Revolution Protest at Insert Coins Las Vegas- Feb. 26, 2015

Insert Coin(s) Las Vegas Bouncers Beat Man and Obstruct Witness Trying to Film

Las Vegas Police Promise “Fundamental Policy Changes” after Dominic Gennarino Beating

Las Vegas Police Beat a Man for “Not Moving Fast Enough”

Las Vegas Police Agree That You Should Film Them

Free Know Your Rights Seminar in Las Vegas

Attorney Stephen Stubbs Arrested for Refusing to Leave His Client’s Side

Update: Body Cam Videos Show No Original Cause for Stop in Racial Profiling Case by LVMPD Saturation Team is a post from Cop Block - Badges Don't Grant Extra Rights