#i thought matt is the kind who's just so focused on acting and not bother with anything else

[moonctzeny]

baby, we're two strangers

pairing: jeong jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: smut

word count: 2,255

summary: "When you attend your company's black mask party, you expect free booze and boring small talk with your co-workers. What you don't expect is to meet a cute stranger, who's more than willing to take you out of your misery. You don't know anything about him, not even his name, only the two deep dimples adorning his cheeks"

warnings:  alcohol consumption, fingering, cunnilingus, smut in public (what else did you expect from me), jaehyun is a little on the subbier side at some point(??) but not really

a/n: happy birthday to our precious jaehyun! hope you like this anon, sorry it took so long :(

You always thought those business parties were a pain in the ass. You barely managed to go through 5 days a week with your co-workers without committing first degree murder, now you had to see them during your precious weekends too? The thought of you starting small talk with the lady at the front desk, or having to laugh with your boss’s terrible humour all night made you sick to your stomach. But alas, you know how much your supervisor loved those kinds of parties, and your wallet needed that promotion. He’d lecture you about how they cultivate group spirit and strengthen the company’s teamwork. You just saw it as an excuse to get drunk free of charge.

Catching your reflection in the mirror, you spot a stray hair that escaped the adhesion of your new hairspray, and you quickly brush it to place with your fingers. Your favourite black dress hugged your body, simple jewellery decorated your skin. You don’t even know why you bothered with eye makeup, the obligatory black mask for tonight’s dress code hiding most of your face already, with the exception of your red lipstick. You wonder whether the people who just quickly rushed by you in the hallways, too focused on their own deadlines and to-do lists would even recognize you.

The party was boring, just like you predicted. You’d given up long ago in trying to keep the conversation going with Matt from the IT department (who proved to be the most boring man on earth, apparently) and planted yourself right next to the booze table. You had your own little wine tasting party in the past hour, trying aged drinks from 10 years ago up to vins ordinaires. The alcohol relaxed your muscles and left a pleasant buzz in your head, effectively drowning out the dj’s playlist that only had hit songs from 2016. You were content in your solitude, satisfied with just staring at your co-workers interacting with each other, noticing who disliked who, who were the funny ones, who needed help with social interactions. But your comfortable loneliness wouldn’t last for long. 

“Mind if I join you?”

Ugh. Just what you needed. Matt from the IT department probably told his buddy, Ben - who keeps rudely staring at your skirts at work - that you’re here and informed him about your location. Maybe if you ignored him he would go away. Or maybe you’d just tell him that you suddenly need to go to the bathroom. Had he ever heard you speak? You wonder if he’d believe you if you told him you were deaf, actually.

You turned around to face the man, hoping that he didn’t know sign language when you finally made eye contact with him. This definitely wasn’t Ben. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen in your life.

He was tall, with loose curls adorning the top of his head. His porcelain skin seemed to absorb all the light in the room, then send it out three times as bright. He looked fit, his small waist cinched in with the buttons of his suit, filled in fully in all the right places. You could only manage a deranged hum that barely sounded human. 

Through the small holes of the black mask he was also wearing, you can tell he was staring at you. You tried to keep the eye contact but failed miserably, your heart picking up a pace that sure can’t be healthy.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around. Do you work in the IT department on the bottom floor, maybe?”

You clear your throat, begging the wine in your system not to mess this up for you by making a fool of yourself. “I also work on the top floor. Maybe you just didn’t notice me before.”

“No no”, he insists, taking a sip from his drink as well while raking up and down at you with his eyes, “I would definitely remember”.

Your cheeks are burning up at this point and you leave your drink at the table, not trusting your clammy hands to not drop the 2017 Merlot all over the floor. You were done acting like boo boo the fool. You weren’t gonna let this one slip away.

“It’s weird, I don’t remember you either. And you seem like such nice company”

He smiles at your reciprocation and you almost gasp at the appearance of two deep dimples on his cheeks, framing his lovely smile. He looks like a mixture of a prince and what you pictured Edward Cullen to look like when you were reading The Twilight Saga as a teenager.

“What department do you work at, then?”

You have to roll your eyes. The wine has made you a little impatient, and the heat of your body was getting hard to ignore.

“Here’s the thing Dimples, one thing I really fucking hate is small talk. So how about you really entertain me out of this boring party?”

He seems taken aback by your sudden confidence, yet amused either way. He doesn’t miss the fact that you’re the one checking him out now, your whole body leaning against him.

“I figured I should be a gentleman first”

“I don’t want a gentleman. I need a distraction”

He flashes you those dimples again and you get the sudden urge to tackle him.

“I see. Wanna get out of here?”

You didn’t need to hear more. Taking his hand, you lead the mysterious stranger outside the hall area the party was held at, finding an empty bathroom. You felt naughty dragging a man - a stranger at that - to a place like this, reminding you of your days as a teenager. A cold breeze sneaking through the little window spread goosebumps all over the skin of your legs that was uncovered by your short dress, yet you were hyper aware of the heat emitted from the man’s body.

The moment your hands left the rotating lock, you felt his body towering over yours, then the pressure of his soft lips. He tasted sweet, like the liquor he had enjoyed earlier, his hands snaking around your waist to bring you even closer against him. You kissed with vigor and a passion that was burning in your belly, and you suck on his tongue to show him a sneak peek of your talents. He moans in your mouth, a deep rumble that you gladly swallow up, your fingers tugging on his locks in hope you get another one out of him.

You do, and he’s had enough, wrapping his hands around your legs and lifting you up on the counter. He’s sitting right between your legs, right where you want him most, and your dress has now well ridden up, only one layer between you. He seems to be thinking the same thing as his teeth are breaking the skin of your neck, one hand behind you on the mirror, staining the glass.

“Can I make you feel good?”, he asks with a voice filled with arousal and the want to please. In that moment, you wanted to moan out his name, followed by a ‘yes, please’ but you realised you never asked for it, and it didn’t really matter at this point. 

You nod back pleadingly, your eyes watery with how much you’re desperate for any sort of friction. He lifts the hand that had been kneading the soft skin of your hips, and places his thumb right over your lips. Like a reflex, your tongue peeks out from between your teeth, tasting the saltines of his finger. He moves it further inside, satisfied with the feeling and your tongue dancing around it, and when he has finally pushed half of it in you start to suckle the digit. 

The stranger’s eyes haven’t left your lips for a second, completely mesmerized by your mouth’s work and he messes up your red lipstick a bit, dragging his finger down your chin, leaving a red line behind. Dipping his thumb back in your mouth again, he lets you suck a little more until you have coated it with a satisfying amount of spit, then brings it right over your panties.

They are cotton, dampened from the moisture of his fingers and your own arousal. He applies pressure right over your clit, just enough to see you squirm on that counter, then continues to draw figure eights over the fabric. His finger dips in your opening on the lower curve of the number and you feel yourself get wetter, holding on tightly to the man’s broad shoulders and moaning in satisfaction.

He shuts you up with a kiss, nibbling on your lower lip as he pushes you panties aside, and you’re a little embarrassed with the printed watermelons they have on them. He toys with you a little, spreading your wetness around before finally dipping in, smirking at the way your head falls back. 

The heels of your feet are sitting stubbornly on the marble surface of the counter, knees next to your shoulders to give your new friend as much access as he needed. There was no time for you to be ashamed for showing him all of you, the pleasure was overflowing and ripping out your seams. He starts a trail of kisses from the junction of your next, sucking and licking his way to your chest, and frees one of your boobs with his other hand. The cold and arousal has your nipple stay erect and he seems to enjoy the view, sucking lightly and then harshly, while following the same pace petting your pussy. 

“Am I a good company?”, he asks you then, and you’d expect his tone to be teasing but it’s anything but. He’s looking back at you with wide eyes, expecting your feedback and you pet his hair, lowering his head down with the tiniest bit of pressure so that his mouth reconnects with your chest.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Are you going to make me cum?”

He nods eagerly and you lift him up with the collar of his shirt, and you know his expensive cologne will dwell on your fingers after you’re done. You bring him into a kiss, tasting his lips before you whisper over them.

“Then you have to try a little harder”

You could practically see the determination in his eyes, and he wastes no time as he immediately gets on his knees. His breath is cool over your hot core, the feeling sending tingles down your spine. The anticipation is so high that when his tongue finally comes in contact with your sensitivity you almost yelp. 

His talent isn’t limited to his fingers, you think as he leaves kitten licks over your clit, giving the bundle of nerves a gentle suck periodically. Just as you’re getting used to the soothing circles of his tongue he dips one more finger in, successfully stretching you open and you bite your hand to stifle your moans. You’re worried that your wetness will drip down to the floor but then you’re reminded of your panties, the friction of the fabric stimulating you even more. 

“I’m gonna cum”, you moan in a high pitched tone, bracing both you and the man feasting over you on his knees. One last suck and you’re thrown over the edge, legs shaking as you’re desperately trying to hold yourself in place, before you fall or crush his head with your thighs. He lets you ride out your high, still dipping his fingers in and out slowly, prolonging your pleasure as much as possible. When you both feel like you’re done he gets up again, drying up his chin that is wet with your come. The tent in his slacks is painfully visible, and you rub over it seductively as you also rub your still exposed nipple.

“How about I pay you back”

The stranger doesn’t have time to answer, a loud knock making you both jump in shock and you quickly get decent again.

“Is someone still in there? I really need to use the bathroom”

“Coming!”

“Yes!”

You facepalm at the dumb mistake, exposing yourselves so easily at the man on the other side of the door. He lets out a rumbling laugh, and if there was really such a thing as ‘the end of the world’ you wish to any god out there that it happens right now.

“Ahh, I get what’s going on. You keep at it kids, another bathroom became available just now. And use protection!”

You bury your face in the stranger’s shoulder, and you feel him laugh silently at the ridiculousness of the situation. He opens the door just a slither, and when he makes sure no one is waiting for you outside the bathroom, he leads you back to the main hallway.

“So that was…”

“...hot”, he finishes your sentence with a naughty smile and you swear those dimples are gonna kill you.

“My name is y/n”, you say and firmly shake his hand, the gesture too formal compared to the things you’ve just finished doing together, “I still want to thank you for that, if you do too, of course”

“Jaehyun”, he says right back, then rubs the skin right under your lips with his thumb, and his fingertip comes back red. “Sorry for that, I got a bit carried away. You have nice lips.”

“Thank you, Jaehyun”

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E114-115 (Nov. 10, 2020)

My wi-fi’s gone distinctly shaky, so it must be that time again! I don’t think I’ve ever watched the pet montage with sound on, and the sheer majesty of Henry snoozing on a Nicolas Cage pillow is somehow ever better with a swelling orchestral score.

This episode’s guests are Liam O’Brien and Taliesin Jaffe!

Brian: “How’s everyone feeling?” Taliesin: “...god.”

There’s a brief discussion about sports. Liam and Taliesin agree that they like the cowboys. Not the Cowboys the sports team, just cowboys.

Taliesin, on episodes featuring him and Liam: “We have a dark sad energy that I think works well together.”

Brian leaps out of his chair. “My pants kind of match the wall!”

Also Brian: “You guys fuck with Barney?”

Okay, okay, okay. First question of the night at 7:09 PM. What was it like to find Vess dead? Liam had a lot of avenues of conversation he was planning with her and was disappointed to lose access to those. Taliesin notes that it’s ten days before they can talk to her again.

Another contemplative digression. Liam: “Google ‘fartiste’.” Lots of talk of sphincters.

Brian asks what it was like to see Molly committing such heinous acts. Taliesin: “I have a nice wall built because I understand the mechanism by which Molly is Molly, and knowing the mechanism, I understand what Matt’s doing. It’s only Molly so far. I always knew that whatever was going on in the background was sinister and a little bit iffy. And, you know, Molly was never actually against a little skullduggery. He’s not a moral person, just, you know. Situationally kind.” Taliesin genuinely isn’t sure how much Lucien knows about Molly’s life, but he looks forward to someday being able to talk about the initial conversation he and Matt had about Molly at a Starbucks by a tattoo parlor.

Brian wonders whether Vess’s death has made Caleb start thinking about how other Assembly members may not be all that untouchable after all. “It’s totally surreal and absurd to him. I still think of them as powerful, though. Story-wise, Caleb thinks of them as dangerous as fuck. All of them.” Getting to know Vess might have helped him figure out what to do next about Trent - now there’s even more uncertainty there.

On potentially having to explain Vess’s disappearance: “Clay’s just gonna peace out. By the time this becomes a problem, he feels this is not his problem. If there’s a good path to everyone working out, sure, but boy it don’t look like it right now.” Caleb’s “just in con-artist mode at the moment.” They’re both more focused on what’s going on at the moment.

“I will actually say, it wasn’t until halfway through that even I noticed [that Clay was being flirted with]. I really appreciate it, just because very, very early on, from the beginning, I was very much like, I’m just going to play him ace. He’s got no interest in this shit. All that energy gets directed into other places. I was like, it’s a shame that it will never come up organically.” He was pleased to have an excuse to bring it up in-game. He does note that because of the costumes “it was like being flirted with by Ganondorf.”

As soon as Laura was actively interested in reading Der Katzenprinz, Liam knew he wanted to put the whole book together. Taliesin: “I can barely take a walk every day. Who the fuck are you?” 

Cosplay of the Week: a fiery Caleb! (lilac.cos on Instagram, photo by fourphotoscosplay on Instagram)

Everyone’s a fan of Dagen Underthorn. Liam: “I love him because of how salt-of-the-earth he is. We’re a bunch of weirdoes.” Taliesin figures he’ll wait for the M9 outside the cave, but “three days, tops.”

“Clay’s seen a lot of things go down when people are mourning. This is a new one, so he’s definitely not sure what to do, and hasn’t really had an opportunity to be like: a little trepidation would be advised, because this could go really poorly, and you’re all a little weird about this. He’s assuming that Molly was another nice guy like the rest of these nice people, but after the Traveler he’s a little more wary of trusting his friends’ judgement on the character of others. It’s a lot like hearing about somebody’s ex and they’re like, oh, they’re coming to visit.”

Why was it so hard for Caleb to walk away from the necromantic emerald? “The first answer is that, Caleb, who is humble in many ways, is also cocky. I’m the best at it, I’m really good. One thread in Caleb’s personality is his hubris. The other answer to it is that Liam thought it was hilarious.” 

Taliesin: “I could’ve possibly stayed a little longer.” Brian: “How much longer?” Taliesin: “Until we had to resurrect someone.”

Brian asks what it was like to have a battle de-escalate to the point of “dinner and friendship”. Taliesin: “It’s been a hard year and I was tired. I don’t want to hurt anything for a while, I just want to have cocoa on graph paper.” Caleb invited the yetis in because “one, that’s amazing. But also they said they would escort us and be our bodyguards for a little bit.” He thought he could entice them to stick around longer, having plied them with cats and pastries.

On Caduceus getting to be a mammoth: “The same way that Caleb is a creature of hubris, Clay is a creature of self-control, and is really invested in his ability to maintain himself and to not get lost in the situation; even in a heightened situation, he’s still very much himself. This was uncomfortable. Eventually, with some hindsight, he’ll enjoy the notion, but at the moment, it’s definitely a lot of, that did not feel okay.”

Fan Art of the Week: the kitties in the kitchen! (kristen_felan on Instagram)

Why was it important to Caleb that Veth stop touting him as a leader? “It’s never really bothered him intensely, but it’s been a thing for a very long time. It wasn’t worth making a thing about it, but it was never true for him. He just doesn’t feel like a leader, he never did. He went from being an A-hole to one of the knights of the round table.”

Who does Clay think needs the most guidance? “Yasha. He’s feeling at least reasonable about everybody. He feels like Jester doesn’t quite have her shit together, but she’s fine, and Fjord’s doing just great. Everyone seems to be coming together. Yasha had a breakthrough but hasn’t really processed yet, so it’s a lot of, like, hey guy, so. You know. Now that we’re feeling more healthy, maybe it’s time to make some healthy decisions?” Liam suspects some of the characters will continue evolving even after the campaign is done. Taliesin: “Life doesn’t have an act structure.”

Taliesin: “I’m looking forward to playing the Tomb Takers after they TPK us.” Liam: “Dibs on Cree.”

[so-writing]

Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea - Matthew Tkachuk (22)

all parts here

-

“Is it ok if we don’t invite anyone over?” 

The two of you had eaten your fill but there was so much extra food that you felt a little guilty about your question. Allowing yourself to bring your walls down around Matt alone was hard enough, introducing his friends into the mix would be too much at once. 

You knew them all and no one would treat your poorly or anything like that, but the suspicions about the two of you they probably already had would be confirmed. You were smart enough to know that both Matt and yourself had been acting weird around each other lately, so there was no way no one else noticed. 

“Of course, will you help me pack up the extra stuff? Only what you want though, we’re about to fill your fridge.”

“Matt, really? I don’t need all this.”

“I know, but I want to make sure you remember tonight and leftovers will help.” 

The two of you put the food into containers and walked them to your apartment in near silence. It was awkward as hell, the only sound being your key turning in the lock and footsteps as you both stepped inside. 

“Onyx!”

Matt set the containers he had on your counter and rushed over to pick up the purring cat. Onyx nuzzled his head against Matt’s neck and settled happily in his arms, more than content with being loved on. Thank fuck for him though, because you had no idea how to break the tension that had followed you from the hall and into your apartment.

“I kind of forget he exists sometimes but then I see him again and remember how good of friends we are.”

“He’s going to be good friends with everyone who treats him like that,” you waved your hand in Matt’s direction, “I’m going to put this stuff away.” 

As far as dates went, this one hadn’t been too bad. Matt had gone out of his way to get more food than would ever be necessary, you had normal conversations while you ate and there was even some laughter. Guilt was eating at you a little bit for keeping the others away but Matt didn’t seem to be bothered. 

“Well, I guess this is it?”

The awkward silence returned as soon as you spoke and Matt set Onyx down on the couch. 

“What? No, this isn’t the end of the date. Come on back up, I still have stuff planned.” 

Locking your door behind you, you let Matt lead you back to his apartment. His body language was kind of weird, and it seemed like he was going to make an attempt to grab your hand, thought better of it, and instantly pulled away, opting instead to stay about a foot ahead of you. Neither of you spoke on the elevator ride up or the walk to his door.

“Matt this is really awkward, I can’t even lie.” 

The standard expression on his face shifted into a smile as he unlocked the door and ushered you inside. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m not good at dates. I don’t go on them very often.” 

“You usually skip the soft part and go straight to sex, right?”

He definitely didn’t expect that, as evidenced by his wide eyes and red cheeks. When he didn’t respond, you laughed it off, “that was a mostly a joke, because you do have a reputation. Even though we’re just now doing whatever we’re doing, I’ve been here a while.”

“I always forget that.” 

“It’s easy to do. You’re a professional hockey player, I’m somebody’s assistant. Had we not been forced to be roommates on, interestingly, the only roadie I’ve had to attend, I wouldn’t be here right now. You would continue to avoid me unless you had to talk to me, which would be short and rude and maybe include an insult, and I would continue to tolerate it to keep my job.”

*

It was not what he wanted to hear on what was supposed to be a date that was supposed to be the start of something good, but there it was. He had treated her poorly for years and to hear that she would still be continuing to deal with it today if things hadn’t changed was heartbreaking. He felt like his head was being slammed against the ice a thousand times at the sound of just a simple statement. 

It hurt even worse because he knew she was right. They would be in the same exact place they had always been in and he would have completely missed out on an opportunity to meet someone who now meant so much to him, he couldn’t see himself without her. 

“I don’t know what to say, sorry isn’t enough. I’ve been horrible to you for no reason at all for a long time and I don’t have any excuses as for why. I’m so fucking sorry, I really am. The fact that you had to deal with my abuse all this time, just to keep your paycheck, makes me sick to my stomach.”

“I wouldn’t call it abuse, exactly. Everyone’s got a mean coworker.”

“I made you sleep on the floor, I made you cry, I created a toxic work environment for you for two years and you couldn’t do anything about it. You wouldn’t call that abuse?”

He dropped to the couch and watched her shoulders sag and heard her sigh. 

“Matt, look, I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty by saying that. I was just making an observation at how different the circumstances could be had the chips not fallen the way they did.” 

He knew that wasn’t her intention, but it didn’t matter. He’d fucked up so much with her and he couldn’t believe she was even there in the first place.

“I don’t deserve you. I want you but I don’t deserve you and you should take the job in Philadelphia.”

*

What had you done? A lighthearted date that had started with takeout and casual conversation had spiraled into a torrential downpour. He was just begging you not to leave and inappropriately kissing you in the hallway at work and now he was telling to accept the job? What the fuck?

“Can we just stop this? Can we go back to whatever you had planned before I opened my mouth and said some dumb shit? Dates are supposed to be fun, this isn’t fun.” 

Matt was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, you didn’t think he was crying but when he raised his head and met your gaze, his eyes were rimmed red and puffy. 

“Why are you?! Oh my god!” 

You nearly ran to sit down next to him and threw your arms around his shoulders. He didn’t push you away, but he wasn’t trying to hug you back.

“People have to deal with bullshit all the time at work, even you, most hated player in the league. You don’t seem to let it get to you, I didn’t either. The hotel room was rough, yes, but clearly I got over it. I’m here right now aren’t I? You think I would want anything to do with you if I was still upset?”

You eased away from him as he rubbed his face and ran his hands through his curls. 

“Jesus, I really am terrible at dates. Crying on one is a first though.”

The tension lessened a little and you stood up from beside him, walking over to the window to take in the view of the city.

“I’m sorry I made you come to some realizations you weren’t ready to face, or maybe didn’t even know existed but I promise that the man here now is not the same one I had to share a shitty hotel mattress with.” 

“You mean this one is worse?”

You both chuckled at his half hearted joke and this time, the silence hanging between the two of you was peaceful.

“I didn’t mean what I said before.”

“That you don’t deserve me? Or that I should go to Philly?”

“I meant half of it, I definitely don’t deserve you, but I don’t want you to take the job with the Flyers.”

“I know.” 

“Which part of that are you referring to?” 

“Doesn’t really matter, does it?” 

He joined you by the window and the two of you stood next to each other in silence for a few minutes, both focusing on the view below you and not the confusing mix of emotions dancing around in your heads. 

“I’ve gotta be honest, Matt, I’m really tired.”

“You’re probably not willing to sleep here, are you?” 

“Not tonight. Tonight has been way too heavy for us to have a fucking sleepover.”

You gently punched his shoulder before pulling him into a hug. 

“Can we try again?”

“Of course, we can absolutely try again.” 

“I’m sorry for crying, holy fuck, that is so fucking embarrassing, shit.” 

“Shut up, Tkachuk, I like a man that isn’t afraid to show his feelings.” 

Matt walked you over to his door and pulled you into another tight hug, asking if he could walk you back to yours. Despite his best efforts, you went home alone. 

[fandomcelery]

Feelings are complicated, aren't they?

Pairing: Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce

Word Count: 2107

Rating: Teens and Up

Tags: Sexuality Crisis, Internalized Homophobia, Pining

Beta: @useless-fanfictions helped me out a lot on this fic, especially since I'm just starting out writing, so a big thanks to them!

Summary: Walking next to Brittany felt normal and right, but at that moment it felt slightly wrong. A bunch of questions were running through her mind. Was she acting differently? Was it obvious that something was off? Oh god, does everyone think that she’s gay?

Or, the one where Santana realizes she might have feelings for Brittany and panics over it.

Read it on Ao3

For the Glee Character "This-or-That" Challenge: @gleethisorthatchallenge

Prompt: Sharing a bed or Sexuality Crisis

The way Santana feels around Brittany is normal, right? Sure, she’s never felt it for any other person—not even any of her previous boyfriends—but it’s a completely normal feeling. And yeah, okay, she also defends Brittany all the time when people insult or make fun of her, and when Brittany sticks up for her and is always by her side, she can never stop smiling. She always feels warm whenever she compliments her about literally anything that she’s wearing, or how her hair looks that day, or really anything that makes Santana feel pretty.

There’s also the fact that they have sex regularly even though they’re in relationships with guys who would willingly have sex with them as well, but that’s different. It must be different, because if it’s not—

No, it’s not an option for it to not be anything but platonic. It’s got to be, it just has to be.

Even though Santana hates when people flirt with Brittany and will usually try to scare them off when others aren’t looking. Or when they get into fights or arguments, big or small, she feels like shit when she can’t talk to Brittany, and then that means they can’t have their sweet lady kisses that make Santana feel like they are the only two people left on the entire planet.

Feelings are complicated, aren’t they?

As long as she always stands her ground, keeping their relationship just friends, and convincing Brittany—and a little bit of herself—that even though they’re in relationships they can have sex and it’s not cheating because they’re both girls, she will be fine. She just has to keep telling herself that their relationship isn’t anything, that they’re strictly friends and that she doesn’t have feelings for her best friend, because if she did then she wouldn’t know what she would do with herself.

She’s not homophobic, and just because Kurt freaking Hummel struts around with his gay flag waving in the air doesn’t mean that everyone can or has to. And even if they do, they’ll get bullied and harassed, just like him. It’s the way that everything goes, the straight popular kids are on top, and the gays are at the bottom, even though that’s ridiculous, it’s the way it goes.

She’ll just keep it to herself—even though there’s nothing there, obviously—and everything will be fine. She hopes that if she keeps telling herself that then maybe it will be.

***

Of course, that’s not what happens. The following Monday, after the weekend Santana had realized that something is different, it seemed like everyone has been staring at the two of them differently, but it might just be her paranoia talking.

Walking next to Brittany felt normal and right, but at that moment it felt slightly wrong. A bunch of questions were running through her mind. Was she acting differently? Was it obvious that something was off? Oh god, does everyone think that she’s gay? She is suddenly on the defensive side, glaring at the people who she thought were looking at her and Brittany weirdly. Maybe people always looked at them this way and neither of them ever noticed or cared; except now she did.

She knows the route they take to get to their next classes by heart because they always walk together, even though their schedules don’t really line up. Most people think that all the Cheerios just walk to class together in groups because the outfits look good together—which they do, she thinks conceitedly—and because of the cheerleading cliques. For a while that’s why Quinn, Brittany, and Santana would walk together, but then they actually got kind of close because of Glee Club, and now Quinn walks with Finn to her classes and Santana walks with Brittany.

During her fourth period that she has alone she can’t stop thinking about Brittany. How when she walks to class she hugs her binder to her chest, or how during class she always fidgets with her pencil when she’s in between writing, or how even if she doesn’t care about what people are talking about, she’ll listen to them anyway (like this one time a few days ago when they had arrived early to glee club and Rachel had come up to Brittany and her to ask for dance lessons, going on and on about something that had to do with her being a star and needing to know how to dance better, and Santana had only been paying attention to Brittany and ignored Rachel’s harping), Santana admires the way Brittany exists, and how it seems like nothing really bothers her. She doesn’t know why all of the sudden it’s hitting her, especially since she’s been friends with her for so long, and no, she doesn’t have feelings for her, they’re just friends.

***

They walk to their usual seats during lunch together, every now and again bumping shoulders with how close they are while they’re talking. Santana sits down across from Brittany, as she doesn’t miss a beat from what she’s saying to sit down.

“And I swear that Lord Tubbington has a gambling addiction, but he won’t stop—” she takes a bite of her food, “—and I don’t know what to do.”

“Why don’t you just take away his laptop privileges?” Santana suggests, also taking a bite of her own food. It’s not bad, however, it’s not good. Then again, it’s the school’s food. When she looks up at Brittany, she looks quizzical, like she hasn’t thought of doing that.

“That probably would work,” Brittany responds, and continues eating.

Santana’s focused on something else. That something else is Brittany’s physical appearance, everything about her: to her flashing smile, to her thin and perfect eyebrows. her slim waist, long legs, and her torso—which she shouldn’t be staring at in the middle of school, and yet she is. She is stunning to Santana, with her lean appearance and bright golden colored hair pulled perfectly back into a ponytail. Her blue eyes seem to twinkle all the time.

“Santana?” Brittany asks after she’s been staring for a moment or two.

“Huh, what? Sorry, I was just, thinking,” she responds quickly and looks away to other tables where other kids are sitting, she lets go of her lip that she must have been biting on.

“About what?” Brittany takes another bite of her food, almost finished, whereas Santana has barely touched hers.

“Nothing important,” she mumbles, taking a drink from her water bottle. The answer seems to satisfy Brittany and they go back to normal and easy conversation like Santana hadn’t been just staring at her best friend’s boobs.

***

Glee Club isn’t that different. Rachel and Mercedes are fighting for a solo that Mr. Schue handed out, he doesn’t know how to handle it, and so they’re trying to argue over one another. Finn, Puck, Matt, and Mike are making bets about something in football. Kurt, Tina, and Artie are talking about something—she can’t hear their conversation, and honestly doesn’t care—and so it’s Quinn, Brittany and her talking about the Cheerios like they always are.

“Sue’s been on our asses about winning at Nationals,” Quinn comments as she sits down next to Brittany.

“She’s just concerned about staying on top,” Santana remarks, looking around the choir room. She looks up at the two who are arguing over one another and laughs a little bit. Everyone knows that Rachel’s going to get the solo, she usually does. Mercedes probably knows that, too, and yet she’s still going to fight for it.

“And her paycheck,” Quinn adds.

Eventually Mr. Schue stood in front of the class, apparently they had sorted it out where Rachel got this solo and Mercedes would get the next one.

This Glee practice they were going to focus on their choreography added with singing, and it wasn’t that big of an issue for the three cheerleaders (and it was mostly for the jocks to practice anyway, since they were the ones having problems, other than Mike, surprisingly).

Afterwards everyone was tired and sore, they had to start over a bunch of times because someone kept messing up (Finn). Slowly the choir room emptied, and Brittany and Santana walked to their next class together. They were going to walk with Quinn, but she had muttered something about a “troll trying to steal her boyfriend” and went off to walk with Finn. They separated at their different classrooms, and the three of them were going to meet up for Cheerios practice that was after school, which was their usual plan.

***

After practice Santana was even more exhausted than when she left Glee rehearsal. She grabs her water bottle that she had placed in her locker when she first got there. She gulps down a quarter of the bottle before putting it back.

There are many girls around her, yet the only one she’s focused on is Brittany.

Ever since they walked into the locker room, Brittany, and another cheerleader—Hailey was her name—were talking nonstop to one another. It’s not like Santana was eavesdropping, but it’s not her fault they were standing so close and speaking so God damn loudly.

“One time she made a girl cry just because she talked back,” Hailey continues while she brushes her hair in the mirror.

“I know, I was there,” Brittany responds, leaning up against the lockers next to Hailey’s that no one’s using. “Sue can be a bitch sometimes.”

Hailey wraps her hair in a ponytail and starts to put the hair tie around it. “Don’t let her hear you say that she might move you down the pyramid,” she jokes, which gets a laugh out of Brittany. “However, she is the best cheerleading coach McKinley can offer, so I guess we’ll have to put up with it,” Hailey states.

They all know that that’s true, no other teacher will coach the Cheerios, and she’s the only one that’s gotten them to Nationals and gets a pretty big paycheck put towards the cheerleading team.

And listen, Santana doesn’t do jealous, okay? And she’s not. She just doesn’t like Brittany hanging out with another person so closely. And it’s because no one understands her like Santana does is all. And sure, Brittany has other friends, but usually they go through Santana to talk to her, so she knows them, or they’re all in the conversation. This is an entire new person, and they’re jokingtogether, which Brittany can do on her own, of course, but-

“Stop pining and either go talk with them or leave already,” Quinn mutters behind her.

Santana whips around and glares at her, and Quinn smirks.

“Oh, come on, don’t think I didn’t notice.” She walks past Santana to get to her locker, and Santana decides to do what Quinn suggested.

She grabs her water bottle from her locker and makes sure all of her things are put away before she leaves to head home.

***

She can’t be in love with her best friend, right? Sure, she and Brittany are close, and they do practically everything together, and Santana loves everything about Brittany, but that doesn’t mean she’s in love with Brittany.

Those thoughts are how Santana finds herself pacing in her room, not for the first time in the last few days, lost in thought. She looks over at the photos that she has on her walls of all of the Cheerios, but there are a few of either her, Brittany, and Quinn, or just the two of them.

She walks over and picks one up to look at it. She gets the same feeling that she’s been getting every time she thinks about Brittany, yet she’s been ignoring it for a while now. Except this time, she doesn’t. She feels butterflies in her stomach and doesn’t even realize she is smiling at Brittany’s picture. She sets down the photo when she does catch herself, and goes to lay down on her bed.

Even if she was gay, how would she know? Would having feelings that aren’t actually feelings enough to be considered gay? And what would everyone else think? Maybe she should turn to the internet, she thinks. She sits up and grabs her laptop that she keeps on her bedside table and loads it up.

A few searches later she realizes that maybe terms like bisexual or even lesbian fit her. Some more questions pop up in her head after that realization, but at least one thing’s certain.

Santana is in love with her best friend, and she has no idea what she’s going to do about it.

[procrastinatorimagines]

Okay Part 7

Fandom: One Chicago

Series: Okay

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 (Final)

Pairing: Matt Casey x Halstead!Reader

Warning/s: fire, attempted murder

Word Count: 3,033

Summary: After narrowly escaping certain death you decided to turn your life around and become a firefighter, and although it wasn’t easy, you survived your first week at 51. Now, the strange circumstances of your very first fire lead you to a second, deadlier act. As you dig deeper, aided by your brothers and your new firehouse, you begin to realise just how in over your head you might be.

Tags: @alievans007 // @louiselikeswriting // @killjoys-make-some-noise-na-na // @sesamepancakes​

By the time you woke up your head was pounding and your mouth was dry, your ankles and wrists chafing against the ropes that tied you to a beam in the room you were in, where ever that was. You weren’t sure how long you’d been out, but as your eyes slowly focused in on your surroundings you noticed a small window on the opposite side of the room you were in, the night sky partially visible through a crack in the newspaper that had been used to cover it up.

This was bad, very bad, you thought, panicking as you tried to desperately to free yourself from your restraints, which actually seemed to do more harm than good. Taking a very shaky breath you tried to focus, breathing in and out of your nose slowly...

This had happened before, it had all happened exactly like this before. Only, this time, you weren’t alone in the dark.

When your vision began to focus and the roaring in your ears subsided slightly, you saw a figure out the corner of your eyes, looking to see Lily. Your breath immediately caught in your throat; she was as pale as a ghost, eyes red and face wet with tears and snot. 

“Lily,” you whispered, drawing her eyes to you from where they had been fixed in the distance. She looked to you, shaking uncontrollably, but you saw it then, something in her eyes. Hope? Did she think you were going to help her? 

You were, you were supposed to help her, that’s why you came here in the first place. Breath Y/N, you told yourself, focus, think, you needed to stay under control for her sake. “Hey Lily, where’s Paul? Where’s your dad?” You asked her as calmly as you could, not wanting to alarm her anymore than she was, if that was even possible.

She opened her mouth to reply when the door to the basement banged open, making you both jump as a man stormed down the stairs. He was erratic, mumbling to himself as he waved around a gun, pacing as he reached the bottom of the stairs and ignoring you both completely. 

“No supposed to happen like this... all her fault...” you caught him say, “all your fault, all Jennifer’s fault!” He aimed the gun at Lily, raising his voice as she flinched back as far as she could while restrained. 

“Hey!” You snapped at him, unsure of where such a steady and powerful voice came from inside of you as Paul jumped, apparently only just realising that you were also in the room. “Do not point that gun at her,” you demanded, catching him off guard as he looked between the weapon and his daughter, a moment’s pause gone as quickly as it came as he turned it to you instead. Far from ideal, but the better alternative.

“Listen to me, I’m a firefighter, okay and my brother Jay he’s a cop, he could help-” you began, rambling slightly, not really thinking about what you were saying as you tried to convince him to put the gun down.

Mention Jay seemed to be a bad idea, you realised it the second the words were out of your mouth, Paul’s grip tightening on the gun as he eyes flared with panic. “Cop, cop, no, no cops...” he repeated, very much appearing to have had some kind of mental break. Could he even be reasoned with?

Looking around as he began pacing again, more on edge than before, you noticed the canisters of kerosene along the wall by the stairs; he was going to burn this place down, with you and Lily in it.

“Shut up! Just shut up and let me think!” Paul yelled at a still crying Lily, and outburst that only made her cry harder.

“That’s enough, she’s a kid for god’s sake, your kid,” you tried, grating your teeth and hating how powerless you felt. You’d failed her hadn’t you? 

“We were happy before she came, she isn’t even mine, she ruined everything...” he told you, his logic making absolutely no sense to you. Still, you had to try and get on his level if you had any chance of de-escalating the situation. You’d learned that much from Jay at least.

“Okay, but how is that Lily’s fault? She did do anything, you don’t have to do this, it’s not too late,” you took a shaky breath as his eyes flicked towards the cannisters, only half listening to what you were saying. His mind had been made up when he lit that first fire, maybe even before then, it was like reasoning with a brick wall.

“Yes, yes it is,” he said with way too much conviction.

“No, wait, let’s talk about this,” you tried desperately, pulling on your restraints in vain as he wandered towards the cannisters, gun now slack at his side. 

That was when you caught it, a sharp pain in your hand as you winced, moving your hands slower to feel a now wet nail sticking out of the beam you were tied to. Your hand was bleeding, but you could barely feel it, shifting slightly so that the nail was rubbing against your restraints. Stall, a voice in your head screamed, stall.

“Talk? So you can buy time until your boyfriend can come save you?” Paul laughed in a vaguely unhinged sort of way, thankfully not noticing the confusion on your face as he continued, “is that who you were calling? Because it didn’t say - what was that name? Jay? - on your phone screen.”

You schooled your features as much as you could before he could turn around and wait for your answer. Matt. You’d called Matt. He’d know, he’d know you were in trouble, right? You hoped he would, he had to suspect you wouldn’t have gone straight home, and that that call was strange. 

Stall. You worked through the aching in your wrist, the nail catching your flesh more than once as you powered through, working the rope with everything you had.

“No, I mean, yes, my boyfriend, but he has nothing to do with this, I swear-” you hoped that sounded convincing. You’d already made the mistake of mentioning your cop brother, but if you told him you’d had a fire captain o nthe other end of the line you didn’t know how he’d react. You had to put all your faith in Casey right now, hoping to hear sirens at any moment.

“Daddy...” Lily sobbed, voice small and strained, raw from the crying as she tried to get her dad to look at her, but even when he glanced in her direction, he never met her eye. Your heart was breaking even more than you thought was possibly, stabbing pains shooting through you like the nail in your hand, but you persevered, your sheer anger and stubborn determination numbing the pain and quietening your own panic and fear.

“I have to do this, have to do this now,” he seemed to decide, nodding to himself as he put the gun in his waist band, your eyes draw to him as you worked at the rope, you were so, so close... But not close enough.

Paul took a couple of cannisters at a time, opening the caps and dumping them all over the floor, your feet jerking back as the strong smelling liquid splashed near you. “No, no, please you don’t have to do this,” you begged him.

“It’s done, I’ll finally have justice,” Paul said, your nostrils flaring in rage as you tugged harder at the ropes, your blood on them making them harder to keep steady.  Bastard, you growled to yourself

Paul turned without another word, taking the final cannister and pouring it up the stairs behind him. He took a packet of matches out of his pocket once he reached the top, the first attempt at striking it snapping the match.

Your mind was tugging you back to that other basement then, your senses slipping there too as your vision doubled and the all too familiar smell of kerosene filled your lungs. You’d cheated death once, and now he was coming to collect...

“Daddy please!” Lily cried out, cutting through you like a knife, hauling you back to the present as you willed yourself to focus, scrunching your hand into a fist. You dug your nails into the large cut on your palm, the pain keeping you tethered to reality as the second match flared to life. 

Then, well, then everything happened so fast you could barely process it. Your hands snapped free of the ropes just as the match fell from Paul’s finger tips, the top of the stairs lighting immediately as you clamoured towards Lily, ignoring the pain as you forced her restraints free. 

You looked to the already fast approaching fire as Lily stood, grabbing your leg with her arm and hugging you tightly. You didn’t have long, you knew, the poorly ventilated room already filling with smoke. 

There was only one this for it, you realised, what Casey would probably call your Halstead instinct kicking is as you threw off your jacket. “Lily, Lily look at me,” you said hurriedly, crouching down and wrapping her in it so it was over as much of her body and head as you could make it, her terrified eyes meeting yours. “I’m going to pick you up okay? Whatever you do, keep your head in my shoulder and do not let go, okay?”

She nodded quickly, sensing the urgency as you drew her into your arms, her small ones wrapping around you. There were no good option, but Lily had the best chance this way, and she mattered more. 

Here goes everything, you allowed yourself a split second to prepare yourself, and then you ran.

The stairs were still standing, for now, but they wouldn’t be for long, the fire dancing down the railing and walls as you pushed yourself, step by step, you ran up the stairs. 

Paul hadn’t bothered to shut the basement door, why would he? So you bolted for it with everything you had, you body absolutely screaming at you in fear and pain as you maintained an iron grip on the child in your arms.

And then you were out on the otherside, stumbling but forcing yourself to keep steady as you oriented yourself, the fire still all around you. You put Lily down quickly, patting her down as well as yourself, making sure you weren’t on fire. 

You needed a door, or a window, you didn’t really care. Taking Lily’s hand you looked to her. “We’re going to run, okay?” She nodded, taking your hand with a vice like grip.

A noise to your left drew your attention, making your way down the hall, barely staying up right as the burning in your legs flared up your body. You looked down as you felt your feet nearly slip on a substance, more accelerant?

This had taken place over a matter of seconds, a minute at most, and Paul was still here. You found him in the main hall, pouring the final drops of a kerosene by the entrance. There was a moment, when your eyes locked, both of you realised the other one was right in front of you before either of you sprung into action. 

You’d dropped Lily’s hand at the same time as Paul had dropped the cannister, his hand reaching back for the gun you knew was in the back of his waistband. He was fast, but damn if you weren’t faster. 

The fire had reached up from the basement and into the hall, you wouldn’t have long before it connected with the kerosene currently soaking your shoes, and then this place would go up like an inferno. 

Paul had just pulled out his gun, drawing it around his side, when you reached him, catching his wrist before he could point it and slamming his hand back into the wall. He shoved you back, definitely having the upper hand in terms of strength. “You shouldn’t be here, this is all wrong,” he told you, taking a swing at you with his gun still in hand.

You ducked, the swing wide and uncontrolled as you threw a sharp punch in his gut, building on your momentum and his loss of balance to aim another tap into his throat, kicking him back straight afterwards into the opposite wall. 

“That might be the first thing we agree on,” you snarled, moving quickly as he tried to hit you again, his gun hand twisting around, a suprised cry of pain escaping his lips as you expertly flung him over your shoulder, wrist so twisted he lost his grip on the gun. 

Sure, he was stronger, but you were a Halstead. 

He hit his head on the wooden floor and went down, Lily’s cry drawing your attention as you noticed the smoke filling the hall. 

You kicked the gun away and released Paul, who didn’t appear to be getting up any time soon, rushing back to Lily and yanking her arm, dragging her away from where the fire was fast approaching you.

That’s when you heard it, that glorious sound that made you feel like your chest was cracking open in relief. Sirens. There were sirens approaching. 

Pulling Lily forward you both scrambled towards the exit, the fire reaching the kerosene on the hallway rug as it flared to life with new found direction, hungry to consume everything in it’s path. 

The front door was right there, you could make it. Throwing open the front door you practically pushed Lily out, nearly tripping as her feet met the concete, breath in fresh air. 

Police cars were coming down the street, as well as fire engines and an amulance. 51. 51 was here, and so was your brother you guessed. 

Fresh air hit your face as you took a breath of freedom, and then you paused. Something tugging at you deep inside. Looking back over your shoulder you saw Paul, still lying on the floor as the fire quickly approached, devouring everything in its path. 

It would be too late, you knew, by the time 51 had arrived and put on their gear, the fire would have consumed him. The fire that he’d let consume the lives of two other innocent people, the fire he’d tried to turn on his daughter repeatedly, the fire he’d tried to use to end you, too. 

Every fibre of your being was screaming at you to leave him, but you knew, you knew you couldn’t. So you ran back into the burning building, hearing Lily scream as you reached Paul, grabbing him under his shoulders and hauling his with as much strength as you could manage. 

You’d gotten him outside onto the porch as truck pulled up, Stella barely stopping, let alone putting it in park, before Casey jumped out the door, barrelling towards you with a sense of pure urgency,

“Y/N!” He yelled, practically crashing into you as you dropped Paul, who was just beginning to stir. His hands found your upper arms, looking you over and breathing heavily.

“I’m okay,” you tried to tell him, your breath ragged as he led you away from the burning house, two other firefighters and a paramedic coming to take Paul, along with three officers. 

“I was so worried, I thought...” he trailed off, unlistening, one hand going to the side of your head, still worried. 

“Casey... Matt, I’m fine, I’m alive,” you grabbed the hand on your face, giving it a squeeze as you saw relief wash through him. 

“Y/N!” A small voice called, Lily rushing towards you both and she wrapped you in a big hug, buring her face in you as Casey took a step back.

“I’m okay Lily, we’re both okay,” you knelt down, ignoring the pain in your legs as you wrapped her in a big hug, picking her up as Foster signaled you to bring her over to treat. 

Boden was already giving orders to truck, seeing that Casey was too preoccupied as he followed you and Lily to ambo 61, the air getting clearer as you passed the small girl over to your friend. Foster gave your hand a squeeze, nodding to you as you nodded back. 

As soon as she was out of your arms you nearly collapsed, Casey steadying you as you sit on the edge of the ambulance, signalling Sylvie to come check on you.

“Oh my god Y/N,” she gasped, grabbing her med back.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, but she shook her head.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she said with an authority you weren’t going to argue with as exhaustion washed over you.

“How is she?” Casey asked Sylvie, eyes not leaving you.

“She needs to get to med, she has a potential concussion, serious burns on her legs and she definitely needs stiches on these,” Syvlie said, wrapping up your hands as you winced, coming down from the addrenaline that must have kicked in as you started to feel everything.

Casey opened his mouth to say something but he was interrupted. “I’m riding with her,” a voice cut in, Jay, appearing at your side. Casey took a respectful step back as Jay gave you a hug so tight you couldn’t breath, “I’ll let Will know you’re coming in, god Y/N, we were so worried, what the hell were you thinking?” Jay breathed.

“Sorry, I’ll try not to get kidnapped... again,” you replied, but he didn’t seem to appreciate your attempt at humour. 

“I’ll meet you at the hospital,” Casey told you with a smile, eyes lingering on you for a moment before he turned to walk away.

“Hey Casey,” you called, pausing in his steps as he looked back at you, “we got him.”

Casey smiled, eyes full of pride, “you got him Y/N,” he told you, nodding to you before heading back to truck, something unsaid hanging in the air. 

Sylvie made you get into the ambo, Jay by your side the whole ride. 

You’d got him, Lily was safe, it was finally over.

[ladymaigrey]

In search of a true filter

This is a personal and rambling thought-dump. Enter at your own peril. 

TL:DR my daughter might have ADHD. And, maybe, so do I? The meaning of this label in our lives is a choice for me to make. The choice itself doesn’t scare me nearly as much as the concept that it is a choice.

I am supposed to be writing at the moment, but my brain cannot settle down into the comforting niche of torture and angst that is Matt Murdock's brain. Or, rather, maybe, it's no longer comforting? (why it ever was/can be - is NOT the question I am going to be dissecting here!)

The fact that perceptions change, though, is something that has been occupying me in the past few days, in a rather obsessive and, yep, torturous way.

See, late last week, a counsellor who has been working with my 7yo daughter to help her with some anxieties and difficulties making friends, told me that I might consider having her assessed for ADHD, because some of her behaviors were consistent with that syndrome, as it presented in girls (which is very different to the way it normally presents in boys, i.e. hyperactivity is not necessarily a feature at all). The counsellor made the comment almost offhandedly: it wasn't a big deal. If she had ADHD, it was probably on the milder end of the spectrum as it didn't drastically impact her school work and, really, in terms of the counselling work, nothing would change because counsellors deal with the presentation as is and do what works with that particular individual regardless of what label might be attached.

Which is great, as far as my daughter's counselling journey is concerned.

But it threw me for a loop, and out of kilter, and totally twisted my knickers (and what other aphorism can I throw into this?) It sent me down a whirlwind of anxiety-ridden thoughts and questions. See, after just a little research, it became bleeding obvious that, yes, my daughter certainly has some of the behaviors, but so do I. And I always had!

And, on one hand, knowing that there is a possible neurological explanation for the troubles I had as a child and still have as an adult (including my pervasive anxiety) - did spark an "ah huh!" moment, and a feeling of vindication. On the other hand - that punitive self-loathing-but-maybe-true "other" hand - what I always considered to be unique and subversively delightful about my personality - things that I took pride in even if they often triggered a condemnation (or, at least, dismissal) from the rest of the society - well, they weren't things to revel in. They were signs of "brokenness".

Yes, that's a big part of the fight that neuro-diverse community has had: to NOT be considered "broken", to stay proud of who they are and their differences and their strengths, to demand a change in the society that functions with and for neurotypicals only while dismissing the inconveniently-different.

Still, I see that most people simply don't have enough self-insight to identify their own emotions and thoughts, let alone admit to themselves their own ingrained prejudices, and be able to modulate their responses. I see that neuroatypicality means a lifetime of battling uphill against those prejudices and against the lack of accommodations/understandings that our society, by and large, has no motivation to change. The way of the majority does rule in a society - that's what a society IS. I see that, whatever I am, whyever I am so - I am struggling to function every single day, I always struggled to find people who understood and accepted me, and I do not wish that for my daughter.

And, now, I am also questioning all of my perspectives (excuses?) regarding my daughter. For example, her talkativeness. Is she a "miss chatterbox" because her dad and grandmother are just Like That, and she inherited it from them, or is that a "red flag"? Are her difficulties with spelling a sign of abnormal lack of ability to stay focused, not just the fact that she is half-a-year younger than the rest of her classmates, and that English is a truly stupid language to write in, and that she will catch up in time. Her wish to hug people, even those who are not close friends, whom she met maybe five minutes ago - is that an endearingly optimistic view of the world, which she sees as mostly kind and deserving of embrace - or is that a "hyper-social behavior"?

And, beyond all of that, I question the malleability and impermanence of "one's truth", and, though that, question any human's ability to determine the truth of anything. After all, nothing has actually changed in the last week. Nothing, but strumming of air molecules in the space between two people; nothing but a label placed on a cluster of common actions of a bright little girl in the now, and of another bright little girl in a middle-aged woman's memory.

And yet, it changed the whole filter through which I see... well, almost everything (now that I am hyperfocusing and stressing about it, and is that a symptom, too?)

I am going to speak to my counsellor about it all this week. But, I am a (trainee) counsellor, too. So I can almost predict that through questions and soft suggestions, she will nudge me towards making what probably is the healthiest choice for me: to choose for the label to Not Matter. To look at what IS in my daughter's behaviors and how it affects her right now, not what it might or might not mean underneath or in the future.

That's probably what I will have to do, for my own sanity and to continue being a mum who tries to accept her daughter as she is not as I'd like her to be.

What bothers me, though, is that it IS a choice. All our perceptional interpretations are a choice - a choice of what thoughts and emotions we nurture and listen to. The filter which we look through the world on is a choice (often one that we made before we knew we had a choice to make, but one we made as the most optimum means to survive in the environment we were born into).

And, if it's a choice - then it does not necessarily reflect objective reality (if there's even such a thing; metaphysics makes my brain leak out my ears, so I am not going there).

There's a type of 3rd generation cognitive-behavioral therapy which has proven to be quite helpful with a number of different psychological disorders: acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT). One of the ideas of ACT is to identify goals that are congruent with your personal values and learn how to keep your eyes on the goal, while managing any thoughts/emotions that are unhelpful to you from reaching your goals. There's no judgement on what the goal is, nor focus on unearthing why particular emotions are triggered. So, essentially, it's about helping you craft the filter of your choice which you think is most likely to benefit your wellbeing.

It is something I believe often works, I can see its appeal - it's a comfort and gives a sense of control.

I use emotion/thought controlling techniques every day to help me function (without them, I don't think I would be able to keep my job or continue studying, and I would be even harder person to be around for my family). I remind myself of having a choice to shape my reality, despite what anyone says (and damn the "society")...

And yet, I fear I am lying to myself every single day, and I have no way of finding the "truth".

[sanstropfremir]

it’s the episode 8 review!!! how many episodes is this show supposed to even be?

the stages from the episode feel like such a grab bag.... i still don’t understand why they didn’t put all the skill stages together, and then did the normal two episodes of the third round. i guess it makes sense that they didn’t want to have six stages in one episode and then three in the other two, but eh. 

feeling kinda average on these as a whole, there’s a lot of good elements going on here but probably because of my own preferences (i don’t listen to ballads or blackpink) none of them really hit all the buttons. hopefully this will be a shorter review because i'm only going to do a quick rundown of the vocal stages; i dont really have that much to say about them because they are (intentionally) not very stage picture focused. i'll do the normal stage breakdowns for the other two though, even though i won’t rank them because we still need to see the other four!

vocal stages

sf9 + tbz + ikon

not much to say here other than wow, that’s RED. glad to see some more specific use of spotlighting and i always love when they light things on fire. i do wish they had fill lit with a brighter amber so we could actually get a bit more detail on their faces, especially because there’s six of them. i appreciated the simple blocking and only using one of the ‘stages,’ this stage didn’t need to be anything complicated and it wasn’t. i don’t love spinning camera shots because they make me a bit ill, and i'll forgive the constant cutting because it's a vocal stage and there isn’t any other real movement that we should be paying attention to. not my favourite of the two, i found it visually a bit too repetitive and complex at the same time. always love a crushed velvet suit though, so bonus points for that.

atz + skz + btob

i was braced for the worst and i dont know what kind of miracle happened but it was listenable! like i said, not a ballad fan but i could listen to eunkwang all day. i love a good plinth for a ballad stage, they’re one of my favourite devices in kpop design and i especially love it with a good groundlevel fog. glad they kept it black and white for the first half of the stage, it was in line with the blooming flower projections, and it made a very clear colour arc. they kept the visuals clean and simple with very little blocking at all, a very smart choice for this stage. not sure why they decided it would be the chanel time stage, which i disapprove of because i don’t like chanel, but i do love eunkwang’s shirt with the cameo buttons and the massive turnback cuffs, very 17th and also 19th century. i know they never do it because they dont read on stage normally but yes absolutely more thin chain pendant chokers on men, thank you! i also liked that there was emphasis on a more traditional lighting scheme, there weren't any crazy concert effects, just some good directional beam spotlights and the rear stacks in the climax. 

third round stages

ikon

costume

the first look for them is definitely my fabourite of theirs so far. there’s enough variation in the jackets that the base layer of tshirt and jeans don’t look too repetitive. and i do love a good statement jacket. my favourite is probably donghyuk’s because i'm a sucker for fringe always.

i don’t like the backup dancers costumes, but given the way i’ve reacted to every other all black outfit for this entire show i don’t think anyone was surprised about that. these ones particularly irk me because they’re very matte; there's pretty much no texture or pattern differentials to define the shape of the limb, which makes them disappear when theyre all grouped together (mostly on the women). i think they probably were intending to make a statement/emphasis on the hands because of the sleeve cutoff point, but there were so many arm movements that were just totally missed because the costumes were just black voids. most egregious parts are here, with the female dancers up center. i can barely tell what the movements are unless i’m paying specific attention to them because there's so many black shapes. maybe it was the point for it to be an indiscernable writhing mass, but it wasn’t my vibe.

don’t love this styling on lisa. i hate peeptoe shoes in general but peeptoe boots are the worst offenders. they make you look like you have duck feet, no matter who you are. especially with a flat cutout like that. a universally unflattering shoe, and i would know, i worked in a shoe store for two years. this whole look is just pg-13 rihanna cfda awards 2014 and really nobody should try to run up against rihanna.

also i have to mention this because it’s actually really bothering me, but lisa’s backup dancers are serving very allgemeine ss looks and i do not like it. generally when we see ‘military’ uniforms in kpop theyre usually modelled off older styles (pre wwii) of western uniforms that usually aren’t in circulation, and they’re usually non-matching and embellished in ways that are deliberately not military. i know logically that it's a budget constraint+they’re backup dancers+current trend thing but the clean lines with only button detailing and the all black and that specific harness shape? it hit my brain the wrong way. i mean, technically those uniforms are designer because hugo boss did them, but the uh..... girlboss move didn’t land for me.

this is my PERSONAL OPINION please for the love of all that is holy do not come yelling at me about this. it’s all under a cut, you chose to read the post.

set

very glad to see some busy kitschy sets! this is a massive build, since there’s essentially three full sets here: the temple, the jungle, and the first tiny room. and all of them are very heavily decorated. 

the starting room is just five walls on casters (wheels), that have been set into place with the cameraman and ikon inside at the start, and then once they exit the walls can be easily struck and rolled off set. simple, smart, and convenient!

i missed it the first couple times around but glitching out the projections in the temple for a split second was a neat little trick.

the silver and polygonal nature of the tiger/panther/cat(?) head is a bit disconnected from the gold and the aesthetic of the rest of the stage for me. the difference between the original room set and the jungle tracks, but the cat head isnt able to make the same leap for me. i'm also not a fan of mixing metals so maybe that’s why.

the tiger/panther/cat(?) head is a fun physical transitional device; i'm a big fan of tunnels and small transitory spaces like that and if they’re well dressed like this one they do so much for establishing place and mood.

i'm very sure i’ve seen this style of polygonal animal head with laser eyes before....i cannot for the life of me remember where or for what. i know wang yibo did a panther stage for sdc3 that had a human formation panther with green laser eyes, i wonder if i'm just crossing wires.

OH nevermind it’s because it looks like the witcher medallion. wires were definitely crossed.

lighting

using purple/teal lighting for the jungle was a smart choice because purple is the direct compliment to the gold and also is much more flattering on humans than green. green is one of the colours that humans can see the most variations in, so when something is green when it's not supposed to be (like human skin), we register that very quickly and associate it with unease and sickness. you know how old fluorescent lights have that greenish tinge that kinda makes you feel ill? it's your cone cells and your brain recognizing that you’re looking at things that are not supposed to be green.

very clean colour arc, i love to see it.

sound

it’s.....fine? i don’t listen to blackpink and have no opinions on their music other than it's not my type. i dont really know what the thematic connection to the visuals is, which is not strictly necessary in a lot of cases, but i don’t particularly care for the conflation of ‘savage’ and a (presumably) precolonial religion that’s assembled from stereotypes of real colonized cultures. you can come at me about how ‘it's not that deep’ all you want but i am here specifically doing an in depth analysis, and i gotta point it out. i'm not here to pass judgement on you if you didn’t realize or don’t care or whatever, i'm just saying that it's important to consume content with a critical eye. what you do with that information is your own personal choice, but you should be aware of it at least. 

staging

they took a big risk eating popcorn right before singing, and we definitely got some residual mouth noises of them trying to clean out their teeth. eating on stage is difficult in general because you have to make sure it's not going to dry out the performers mouths, because they dont have access to water and it takes WAY longer to chew and swallow something than you would expect. there’s a LOT of testing that goes into making stage food and guaranteed it’s not made out of what it looks like or what its supposed to be; i worked on a production of amadeus were we did literal weeks of testing amalgams of different desserts to make sure that salieri could actually eat the ones onstage without totally drying him out, because fun fact about that show, salieri doesnt leave stage like, at all, so there was no way to get him water. poor bloke.

i thought the blocking of this was really smart. the long take from the ‘normal’ room and transition into the jungle was super slick, even if that weird circle the camera did while pointed up at the ceiling was unnecessary and pointless.

bobby’s ‘acting’ was extremely funny and that’s the only way people are allowed to act surprised now. edvard munsch scream style only.

the pacing is a bit off and this time it wasn’t mnet’s editing that fucked it up. as fun as it is to have a feature, clearly she wasn’t allowed within proximity of the rest of them for covid or other yg related reasons, but it made for some extremely long transitions, especially the one out of her verse. it kills the momentum of the stage in that beat, even though they manage to pick it up after.

this is a very simple little narrative arc that’s easy to follow and doesn’t require any extra explaining. which is exactly the kind of arc that groups should be doing at this stage in the game. this is a good formic step up for ikon!

i thought the turning off of the monitor at the end was fun and a good callback to them watching the videos at the beginning of the stage. a nice clean way to make it circular.

skz

costume

FINALLY something different on the skz boys! these were mostly fun eboy looks for them, and i like it on the basis that it's not the same as the last set of costumes.

bang chan out there with his thigh OUT and a (fake) bridge piercing? LOVE to see it. great work.

(copy-paste every thing i’ve said about backup dancers wearing all black)

the backup dancers that were dressed as bystanders/extras were great! they should have kept that with all of them because it would have given a little more shape to the choreography and establishing what function the backup dancers were supposed to have.

set

that is meant to be a giant rice cooker on stage, right? i think so because it's a god’s menu mashup? if that's not a rice cooker i have NO idea what its supposed to be

there’s only two large setpieces here, which was a smart way to go. i LOVE the subway car doubling as the truck, even if the truck itself makes no narrative sense. what a fun way to double the use of a single big piece. you’ll be able to see the way it moves in the full cam but it splits down the centre and there entrance doors at the back with attached stairs that bang chan and the dancers use to climb up.

lighting

not a whole lot happening here. i like the cool white leds in the subway car and the contrast with the more warm tones of the outside, which is good atmospheric establishment, but i can't discern a visible arc. 

not a fan of these projections; they’re in line with what we’ve seen from skz so far, which is: extremely literal. i dont think they’re that distracting, but they’re not to my personal taste. they really should have kept the comic panel theme that they did for changbin’s first verse, because that was inventive and fun to watch! and a great atmospheric indicator! i would love to see a bit more experimental projection use but it's hard when they don’t have a lot of time to build these stages and the lighting team is definitely working remotely.

sound

i love that they made the choice to do some actual talking, it’s a good gimmick and it works for the deadpool/comic book/fourth wall break theme, but australian accents take me the fuck out i am so sorry i cannot listen to either felix or bang chan speak english without laughing uncontrollably. 

i don’t like this arrangement but i'm not surprised about that, given my predilections. i'm also tired of skz shouting STRAY KIDS in every performance they do. i know on music shows it's probably more relevant and yea producers tags are a thing but we’ve been watching this show for nearly two months at this point. we know who you are, you can stop yelling. be more creative with it!

staging

my biggest issue with this stage is that it doesn’t have a payoff. there is an arc here: they’re stealing the truck, but why are they stealing the truck? who are they stealing it from? who are they fighting against? it's kind of important in a stage where the theme is stealing and fighting someone that you tell us who that is. in both of ateez’s previous stages were they were both stealing (rhythm ta) and fighting (wonderland), they made sure to show us who the villain was. there needs to be tension for a big blowup climax to actually pay off. whether it be against a a balloon arm kraken or a fascist government. this stage could have reached that next step if they’d just done a little bit more exposition. 

there were a lot of fun choreo moments here, and this is probably my favourite choreo of theirs so far. i thought the whole first bit in the subway car was excellent and a very fun play on those viral videos that we used to see roll around every so often of dancers doing routines in subway cars.

did it need the guns? not in the slightest. more on this point later. i could talk more about weapons and weight here, but i’ve done that several times already.

like with the tbz game of thrones stages, theyre relying a little too much on the audience's preconceptions of the source material in order to carry the theme. the guns are there because deadpool likes guns, but they don’t actually use the guns for anything? the most we get of the stealing segment is felix and the safe, which admittedly is a great bit with him leaping over and under the ‘laser’ lines (theyre likely led strips). because comic books are by nature procedural and deeply tied to narrative, it's unsatisfying when there’s no tension and no payoff.

HOW did we manage to get two stages that are blackpink covers with remote/tv static gimmick and durags? i know the slot machine of kpop tropes is not very big but surely the probability of hitting triple sevens on this one was pretty low. i’m pretty meh on both of these stages overall. skz was unsatisfying but i loved the choreo in the subway bit so that bumped it up a little ahead of ikon’s in my personal preferences, but i'm reserving my actual rankings for next week. assuming we get the other four stages next week and they dont do something stupid and only show two. which they very well might. i’ve stopped trying to understand why mnet does things the way that they do. 

as always the ask box is open, drop your comments/questions/personal opinions, i love to hear ‘em! but don’t be rude just because some of this is touchier subject material.

[lethargic-caterpillar]

Let’s try this again (SFW)

Gender Neutral Shadow monster x Gender Neutral! Reader

I went a teeny weeny bit off script but it’s still a nervous reader that is reluctant to fall for another monster after their last rejection.

@exxo-potato

---

Your cat had been acting rather strange as of late. Keyboard seemed to be rather sad, despite treats and some snazzy new toys you could not get him away from the window. He wouldn’t even get up for your best friend, who was his best friend. 

“Maybe he’s reflecting your mood,” she had said when she came over for a visit. “Like that whole thing about animals being like their owners. You have been a little out of sorts since...”

You stop her with a look, Paisley falls silent and takes another sip from her water bottle. You knew already that you were off, you just didn’t know how to stop. How to go back to normal after the whole anthropophilic naga incident. 

It was pretty common for a human and a monster to be in a public relationship nowadays, but there were still some naysayers. You were alive during the protests that used to happen when the government had finally legalised monster human marriage. 

You thought that your workplace was safe from that kind of discrimination, but the naga you used to crush on proved that theory wrong. Her words had stung worse than any bee, not only were you rejected, you were also insulted by the personal comments she made. The slump that the situation had put you in got so bad that your boss gave you a week off in pity as it had resulted in non-efficiency. 

Of course your boss didn’t know why so eventually when you go back she’ll be there too. 

"You should get a cat behaviour consultant," Paisley suggests as if it's the most normal thing ever.

"A who and a what now?" 

"Oh yeah, there's this totally legit consultant that I hired when Jordan started eating socks," you snort, you'd forgotten about that whole ordeal. Paisley had never told you how the problem stopped, but a cat behaviour consultant seems as likely as anything when your cat is swallowing socks.

Paisley gives you the website as well as the business card she kept in her overflowing wallet. You look at Keyboard, who was still sitting in the window, and pull out your laptop with a sigh. 

It's a pretty legit, local company. It also says that this is a side profession though, what an odd choice. This person must really love cats. The only sketchy thing was that there were no pictures of the actual consultant.

After having an argument with yourself, before going to sleep, you called the number provided in the contact section the next day. Every few minutes, you look towards the digital clock on your oven to see if it had suddenly become 3 o'clock.

"Keyboard, you silly kitty, I do these things for you and you alone." you point at your orange tabby and give him a look when you hear the doorbell ring. You aren't sure what exactly you were expecting, but this definitely was not it.

They were shorter than you by about four inches or so. At first glance, you'd assume they were a slime monster, but with a closer look, you saw that shadows were coming off of their matte skin. Definitely not slime. The little spots drifted towards the floor and disappeared immediately. Their hand was unusually warm, bordering on hot, but the shadows that transferred from their fingers to yours were cool.

"Hello! I'm here to see Keyboard?" the voice of the monster sounded like it was actually three voices. They hesitated when they said your cat's name as well, which wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

"Yes, he's on the windowsill and has been for nearly a week," you step aside so that they can walk in... or glide in? "This is embarrassing but, I don't actually know your name?" There was a name on the website, of course, you knew that you would have butchered it six ways from Sunday if you tried to pronounce it though.

The Eldritch horror like being laughed in that strange voice, and it sounds like a weird Snap chat filter. "You can just call me Chess!"

When Chess knelt down next to your stationary cat, they took off their square-framed glasses and their eyes started to glow purple, eyes that were not previously visible. You shivered a bit, feeling oddly drawn to the light.

Keyboard obviously felt it as he stood up and stretched, mewing softly. He stood on the lap of Chess, his little paws sank a little bit into the shadows collected there. The consultant puts their glasses back on and their eyes become little semi-circles. They must be smiling.

“What a pretty kitty,” Chess rubs under your cat’s chin and between his ears. “He’s giving off some very… unhappy energy. I think it’s his stomach that’s bothering him.” you nod, unsure of what to say.

“May I see what food brand you buy?” They set down Keyboard and stand back up from their position. You rush into the laundry room that doubles as the station for all of your cat's needs. The bag of food sits in the same cupboard as the kitty litter, it wasn’t anything fancy. It was the same cat food that you fed him for nearly his whole life.

You show the bag to Chess and they hum, which is just as weird as any other noise they make. “This one is quite fine, though it is dry… How old is Keyboard?” they look up at you and you look at your cat, the eye contact makes you feel warm.

“I think he’s 17? I can’t remember,” you laugh awkwardly, and Chess’s semi-circles return. They pass you the bag of cat food.

“Then perhaps it’s time to switch to a senior cat formula,” Chess says and looks towards the cat who is still purring in the windowsill, but instead of looking outside, he’s looking at you both. The grin on his face is contagious.

Chess gives you the name of a brand to try and you schedule another appointment in a week. They tell you that they’ll send an invoice, and you close the door behind them with a sigh. You sit down and pet Keyboards head when he comes to say hello. They were so nice and weren’t too bad to look at, sort of cute in a nerdy, cat-person way. 

NO! No, no-no-no. No feelings. Not for a good long while. Especially not for a monster. You did that one too many times. 

You had stopped yourself from focusing on them until Thursday came around, you were taking back the open bag of cat food as the store you had gotten it from a program for returning opened bags. It was a nice way to get rid of unwanted or unused food.

You’re standing in front of the wall of cat toys, thinking it would be nice for Keyboard to have a new friend. His favourite had dropped it’s last feather last month and you’d meant to find a replacement earlier. You pick a green and pink mouse with a feather tail that looks durable enough and without looking, you turn around to walk to the checkout.

You bump into someone and drop the mouse. A familiar voice apologises and an equally familiar, shadowed hand picks up the cat toy. “Sorry about that!” they say cheerfully and pass the colourful mouse back to you.

“Oh, no. It’s my bad. Should’ve looked where I was walking,” you push out those words, your face feels really warm and you know that you’re ruby red. Chess wobbles and you think that that was them shaking their head.

“I’m a little hard to spot,” their hand gestures to the bit of height difference between the two of you. You chuckle, but you also notice that they seem even smaller than the first time you met. You brush it off, it must just be your imagination.

“Still though,” you shrug and Chess grins, their eyes, which are visible, becoming half circles. “Have a nice rest of your day, see you in a few days!” you let out a breath and turn on your heel, home time. It was such a long day of actively avoiding the naga at your work and the rumours about your rejection that were travelling at light speed around the office.

“Wait! I’m so sorry, and feel free to say no, but… do you think maybe we could meet before then?” Chess’s eyes dull and their shadows expand out a bit, to hide, you assume. “And not to talk about your cat, unless Keyboard came up of course then I would totally talk with you about him. Such a nice kitty,” they start to mumble, spacing out a bit. You bring them back to reality.

“Yes. Yes, let’s go out,” you smile at them, feeling a great weight being lifted from your chest.

---

They were supposed to be some sort of shy eldritch horror with an ability to attract cats (and sometimes people), and feel the energy that certain things give off (mostly just cats). I think that this does a fine job. Might just expand later.

My posting will slow down even more due to some personal problems that don’t have a real or permanent solution at the moment. However I do have some ideas and will try to get them set up for the future, perhaps as less of a short story and more like headcanons: A Worn-Out Caterpillar~

[paganvamp]

Saving Grace: Chapter Seven

Meet Damon Salvatore!

(Holy shit this a long chapter)

2009 AD: The Other Brother

Elena was soaked, standing chest-deep in the muddy lake as Ric looked on from the woods above.

“Damon! How are you even here?”

“Thanks for the tip, brother.” Damon’s voice, disapproving and frustrated, sounded from his place behind Ric, leaning against the tree trunk next to him. Neither of them seemed too bothered that he had just launched Elena into the water, though Ric did have the decency to look a bit sheepish.

“You sold me out!” Elena accused.

“You think I'd take you to a mountain range of werewolves on a full moon without backup?”

“Get out of the water, Elena.”

“If I get out of the water, you’re gonna make me go home.” Elena protested.

“Yes, because I’m not an idiot like you.”

“Right now, you’re both acting like idiots.” Ric groused, rolling his eyes, and walking further away from the bickering pair.

“Well, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Probably won’t be the last.” Grace’s voice could be heard before she came into view, but it was clear from the tone she meant the jibe with affection and good humor.

“You dragged Grace all the way out here just to babysit me?” Elena frowned at Damon.

“He dragged Grace all the way out here because she doesn’t take ���no’ for an answer.” Grace responded in Damon’s stead. A moment of silence as Damon and Elena stared accusingly at each other.

“You gave up on him, Damon.”

A klaxon-sounding bell tore Grace from her vision-dream, and she was momentarily too discombobulated to realize it was her own alarm clock. Who the fuck are Damon and Ric? Grace sighed. And why the fuck are they looking for werewolves? She’d just gotten over her strange Stefan vision, and the uneasy feeling of her hand in his. Elena liked him, seemed to trust him, and Caroline thought he was God’s gift… it was only Bonnie who seemed to share Grace’s reservations.

Pulling her phone off the charger, Grace found she had a string of new messages. Navigating to the three-way chat between herself, Bonnie, and Elena (some things needed to be Caroline-free), she noticed that the other two girls had apparently had an entire conversation while Grace was asleep.

E: Any word on the psychic front? Am I gonna win the lottery today?

B: ha-ha. I told you, Grams was drunk. No winning lottery numbers here

E: 2 bad. Aunt Jenna really wanted that new tv

B: Grace, I hope Ur not ignoring us. That’s very rude

E: She’s probably still asleep, Bon. It’s like 5 am

There were more, as well as some texts from Caroline, but all Grace could see was one word floating in front of her eyes: psychic. She’d prayed that Bonnie would show some inclination toward magic, that she would have someone to talk to and practice with. Could this be the first signs of her Tapping into her powers?

Quickly - so quickly her first draft was unrecognizable as English – she typed out a response to Elena and Bonnie.

G: I’m awake. Psychic???

While waiting for a response, she alternated between reading the rest of her notifications and beginning the arduous process of brushing and braiding her elbow-length hair. Strangely, Grace had yet to receive Caroline’s customary ‘good morning’ message, which usually consisted of a precise list of all the plans she’d made for the entire day, and maybe an actual ‘good morning,' if she remembered. She did, however, have multiple texts from Caroline dated the night before.

C: If you notice any new tall, dark & handsomes around town, know I’ve already called dibs – 8:00 PM

C: could you please tell Elena she just needs to jump S’s bones already? She listens to u – 8:30 PM

C: OK srsly, I’m asking — has Vicki always been such an attention whore – 8:45 PM

C: don’t answer that – 8:46 PM

No other texts had come in from Caroline until hours later, when she sent the last message of the night:

C: Elena may be a prude, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get some. Don’t wait up ; ) – 10:30 PM

So, clearly Caroline had run into her ‘tall, dark, and handsome’ last night and taken him home. The last part of the message, ‘don’t wait up ; )’, sent a pang through Grace. She remembered when she was the one sending her friends texts like that. Not now, Grace. It’s school time. Mostly, she was fine, didn’t think of Bryan at all… but sometimes a memory would hit her like a fuckton of bricks. She shook off the sudden melancholy and gathered up the scattered grimoires and spiral notebooks strewn across her room from the night before. No wonder she’d stopped answering messages at 8:00 – after pouring over magical tomes for hours, she had fallen asleep early.

“Grace, hurry!” Aimee’s voice urged from her room across the hall. “Don’t you have practice today?” Oh, shit. No matter how good Caroline’s mystery man had been last night, she would happily skewer Grace over a bonfire if she were late for practice again, and her practice clothes were in her duffel in the school locker room. If she was late to school, she wouldn’t be able to grab them before class, which would mean she’d have to detour before practice to get them and… well. Either way, she needed to move her ass or she’d be late to first period. She winced; It was kind of a habit of hers, unfortunately.

“Shit, Aims, I really have to go! Are y’all ready, or can you get dad to drive you?” ‘Y’all,' a phrase reminiscent of her childhood in Louisiana, usually only made an appearance around family members or when she was in a hurry.

“Neither.” Chloe called grouchily from the bathroom, down the hall from her sister’s rooms. She was not a morning person — which was lucky for her, since she’d somehow ended up with study hall (aka an hour to sleep in) first thing in the morning. “Dad left already, which you would know if you ever woke up on time.” Since she didn’t have time to argue, Grace let the snide comment go this once.

“Then get in the car, we have to leave, Chloe!” Where is my damn history book? Grace’s room was a mess of grimoires and textbooks and writings by and for witches. The history book was buried somewhere in the sea of paper and ink.

Chloe’s head popped out from the bathroom, a furiously indignant look on her pretty face. Her hair was to Grace a rat’s nest of clips and curlers and bobby pins, though she was sure it made sense to Chloe.

“Not all of us are okay with looking like Leif Erikson every day, you know.” As mothers are wont to do, Cecile somehow sensed an argument brewing and appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Grace, you go. Take Aimee if she’s ready. I don’t have anything until the afternoon – I can drive Chloe.” As Assistant Curator of the history museum in the city, Cecile worked strange hours and dealt with a fairly lengthy commute every day, but she and Joseph – manager at a bakery in town — felt it worth the sacrifice.

“I’m ready!” To prove her point, the only brunette among them sailed past her mother and sister down the stairs, bag over her shoulder and shoes already on. Shoving her feet into the first pair of tennis shoes she saw, Grace stuffed her history book — found under her bed, for some reason — into her bag and followed Aimee to the car.

Grace needn’t have worried about Caroline’s wrath; when she reached the school, Caroline was nowhere in sight. Bonnie and Elena were, though, so after saying goodbye to her sister, she headed their way, just in time for Stefan to join them.

“Good morning, Elena. Good morning, Bonnie, Grace.” Grace smiled and nodded at him, more focused on Bonnie’s reaction to him than a warm welcome. She hadn’t had any time to see if either of the two girls had responded to her inquiry about Bonnie’s supposed psychic powers, so she’d just have to observe and bring it up later.

“Hey,” the greeting was short and uncomfortable, even for Grace, as Bonnie cast her eyes around for an escape route, “Um, I gotta find Caroline. She’s not answering her phone. So, I’ll see you guys later.” Late and unreachable? Maybe mystery man was more Ted Bundy than Casanova? But before Grace could ask if Caroline really was AWOL or simply being used as an escape route, Bonnie was gone.

“She doesn’t like me very much.” How astute.

“She doesn’t know you.” Elena corrected gently, smoothing ruffled feathers as usual. “She’s my best friend. She’s just looking out for me. But when she does, she will love you.”

“Bonnie’s one of those resistant-to-change types, at least when it comes to the friend group.” Grace offered. She felt awkward, as she agreed with Bonnie but was standing with Stefan.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do.” Uh-oh. That’s her ‘I have a plan’ voice. “Are you free tonight?” Grace didn’t need any powers of divination to see where this was going.

“Yes.”

“Perfect. Dinner; My house, 8:00; You, me, and Bonnie.” Elena turned to Grace, an invitation on her lips.

“Oh, no. I’m not getting in the middle of that. This is Bonnie’s thing.” No need to mention her own reservations, especially if it meant getting out of the sure-to-be-awkward dinner.

“Fine. Stefan and Bonnie will spend some quality time and she’ll get to see what a great guy you are. Mission accomplished.” Elena had quite the self-satisfied smile on her face, as if she’d solved world hunger and not Bonnie’s bad attitude. In the silence, a familiar voice sounded in Grace’s ear.

“….Do, Ty?” It was Matt, clearly, but the words were faint. Grace could only make out a few of them,“…made…choice.”

“…One.” Tyler responded.

“Hey, I didn’t know Matt was here already.” Grace exclaimed, just to say something. Elena gave her a strange look.

“What are you talking about? How do you know Matt is here?” Elena knew Matt’s voice as well as Grace did. It should have caught her attention as well, shouldn’t it?

“You didn’t hear him and Tyler?” It was Stefan’s turn to give a strange look, but this one she couldn’t decipher. She wasn’t willing to read him again, so she was left bewildered at the searching expression on his face.

“…Ty, don’t! Ty!” That was louder, but before Grace could make a comment, Stefan was whirling around to catch the football that had been aimed directly at his head. He threw it back — a good throw, maybe better than Tyler’s. Elena laughed at Tyler’s shocked reaction, but Grace was focused on something else. They’re so far away… Grace had always had good senses — perfect vision, a sometimes-too-sensitive consciousness of smell, good hearing — but that was almost… inhuman. No wonder Elena was confused. She hadn’t heard a thing they’d said. Noticing more students arriving, they made their way inside the school, where Elena was not ready to forget Stefan’s display outside.

“That throw was insane. I didn’t know you played football.”

“I used to.” He looked nostalgic for a moment. “It was a long time ago.”

“So why don’t you try out for the team?” Grace asked. Football player and cheerleader may have been a cliché, but it was a cute one.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Stefan appeared to think the suggestion was ludicrous.

“So, you don’t like football?” Elena clarified. I hope the mixed signals aren’t a Thing with him.

“No, I love football. I think it’s a great sport.” Grace would beg to differ, though she would never tell Matt. “But in this case, I don’t think football likes me. You saw Tyler over there, and we both know how Matt feels.” The word ‘both’ let Grace know she was heading into third-wheel territory, so she told Elena she’d see her at lunch and made her way to her locker, where her worst nightmare had come true.

Tyler and Vicki. Kissing. She supposed the pair were always either fucking or fighting, so no option was great, but at least when they were fighting, they weren’t a unified front. They wouldn’t tag-team to make her day more difficult. In fact, one of them might even go out of their way to make her life easier, just to spite the other.

Maybe she was glad to be single after all.

“Luctor et emergo.” Grace muttered, as she elbowed her way past the writhing couple to her locker. Grace’s parents had insisted on all three of their children learning both Latin and French from an incredibly early age. Back then, Grace simply thought they were classists or wanted to set their kids apart somehow. Now she knew their true motives – Traditional Magic, and its spells, were almost entirely recited in Latin; the witches of the Quarter use Ancestral Magic – a large part of which was in French. Since childhood, Grace had a habit of slipping into another language in times of stress or hardship — similar to her use of ‘y’all’ — which seemed to be happening a lot more lately. Luctor et emergo: I struggle and emerge. A frequently used phrase when walking the halls of Mystic Fall High School. Another thing becoming more common lately was upper arm work-outs — for days, Grace had been shoving every textbook and spiral bound she could into her backpack and lugging it around all day, just so she could avoid the two forces of nature currently sucking each other’s faces off. The one bright spot was that Vicki had seemed to loosen up on her vendetta against all associated with Elena Gilbert.

Slamming her locker door shut, Grace glanced at her phone again. Bonnie was right — not a peep from Caroline. She began to type a message when the warning bell clanged, signaling two minutes to get to class. She would have to locate Caroline later.

Cheerleading practice was the highlight of Grace’s day. There was almost nothing she loved more than the rush that came from flying and tumbling, except maybe magic. Yes, she hated football — basketball was much less boring, without all that stopping and starting — but cheer was worth it. Of course, she’d made her three closest friends through the squad, and it was one of the few subjects she and Chloe seemed to agree on. Then there was the adrenaline rush, as well as the benefits of having to keep her body in such good condition. It didn’t hurt that the uniform was adorable, either; Grace was proud of the body both nature and cheer had given her, and tended to prefer silhouettes and styles that accentuated her curves, complimenting her features — which, of course, the uniform was basically designed for.

After dropping her water bottle and bag at the edge of the field, Grace began stretching near Bonnie.

“Seriously, if you could maybe make yourself look a little uglier next practice, I think we’d all appreciate it.” Bonnie japed, eyeing the cherry-red spandex shorts and black sports bra Grace had donned for practice.

“You’re one to talk.” Dana, doing the splits a few feet away, called to Bonnie. “Like, could you turn down the glow a little bit, Bonnie?” Grace herself dropped into the splits, having loosened up enough, and slowly rotated forward until she was flat on her stomach. She looked up to see Bethany, a fellow senior, inches away doing the same. Beth, who shared Grace’s weird sense of humor, grabbed Grace’s hand.

“Tell my family…” she whispered, as though she were dying. “Tell my family I died well.” She collapsed loosely on the grass as Grace wailed in feigned grief.

“No, Beth! Come back! I’ll miss you!” Before the charade could continue too far, Grace heard Bonnie’s voice from just outside her limited field of vision.

“Oh, my God! You’re here!” She sounded stunned.

“Yep.” Elena! Grace contorted herself as far as she could without spraining something and saw her two friends standing above her. “I can’t be sad girl forever. The only way to get things back to the way they were are to do things that were.” Grace wasn’t sure that made sense. She slowly pushed herself back up into a sitting position and Bonnie and Elena each grabbed a hand to help her up. “Oh, and you're coming to dinner tonight.” This could end poorly.

“I am?”

“Mm-hmm. You, me, and Stefan.” Bonnie gave The Look. “You have to give him a chance.”

“Tonight's no good. Have you seen Caroline? I texted her like a hundred times.” So, Caroline was still missing… Grace was seriously starting to worry. Missing practice was perhaps the most Un-Caroline thing that could possibly happen.

“Don't change the subject, Bonnie Bennett! You're going to be there.”

“Fine. I'll go.” No one could talk Elena out of something when she set her mind to it, not even Bonnie Bennett.

“Good.”

“Can I circle back to the Caroline thing?” This was probably an appropriate time for Grace to circle back to the psychic thing, but anxiety was gnawing at her. “Neither of you have heard from her. Like at all?” They both shook their heads, then all three girls looked around as if Caroline might pop out of a bush.

“Seriously, where is Caroline?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like her.” Grace was already reaching into her bag for her phone.

“I’ll try her again.” Before she could, however, a car pulled up to the field, containing none other than Caroline… and ‘Damon’. Dream Damon. Grace couldn’t equate Caroline’s sexy-bad-boy mystery guy to the obnoxious but lovable older-brother type she’d dreamt earlier.

“Uh…”

“Oh, my God. That must be the mystery guy from the grill.” Grace suggested. Her friends seemed dumbfounded, and some part of her found it good to know they were just as lost as Grace.

“That’s not a mystery guy.” Or not. “That’s Damon Salvatore.” Grace’s head swung toward Elena so fast she almost gave herself whiplash.

“Salvatore, as in Stefan?” So, she’d had visions of both brothers within days of each other? Each one an indication of future best-friendships? Caroline sauntered over to them, looking smug as all hell even with that ridiculous scarf around her neck. I’m all for a fashion statement, but at cheer practice?

“I got the other brother.” She said to Elena. Well, that explained some of it. Grace knew about Caroline’s deeply buried resentment of Elena, and the fact that never dealt with it or addressed it — she didn’t need to be an Empath to know that, because Caroline had told her. But even if she hadn’t, Grace could practically smell it radiating off of Caroline, she was so upset. “Hope you don’t mind.” Clearly not true. “Sorry I’m late, girls.” She addressed the whole squad this time. “I, uh, was busy.” That little smirk at the corner of her mouth let Grace know that she wasn’t completely wrong about Caroline’s activities the previous night. “All right, let’s start with the double pike herkey hurdler, what do you say?” The girls quickly formed lines, never willing to risk Caroline’s drill-sergeant-esque wrath, and Caroline began counting. Grace, who was behind Elena, could see the younger girl struggling with the maneuver and wondered if Caroline had chosen it on purpose. “Elena, sweetie, why don’t you just observe today? Okay?” It was never a good thing when Caroline used the word “sweetie," and smoke was practically coming out of Elena’s ears. “Keep going! Okay. Do it again, from the top! And 5…” as she went back to counting beats, Grace and Bonnie threw Elena as many commiserative looks as they could. But Elena’s attention had been drawn to the football field, where Stefan Salvatore himself was running plays. The girls watched as Tyler rammed into Stefan, all his weight behind it, and they went down.

“…Gonna live, Salvatore?” Coach Tanner called to the boy, still prone on the grass. Grace could fucking feel Tyler’s emotions from across the field, he was so worked up; he was pissed that some new guy was climbing the popularity ladder so fast, and though a part of him truly did hate Stefan for Matt’s sake, mostly he was jealous himself. It was moments like this when Grace remembered why she hated Tyler so much. The douchebag is using Matt as an excuse to deal with his Alpha Male Complex. Maybe next he’ll pee all over the school like a dog, just to mark his territory.

Stefan got up, and the boys huddled up again; Grace turned her focus back to Caroline’s instructions.

Grace was not looking forward to the football game. Between Caroline’s pettiness being at peak capacity, Elena’s patience at an all-time low, and Bonnie still refusing to come around and give Stefan a chance, Grace figured every moment spent not cheering would be in mediation. As soon as she arrived, she made it her mission to finally talk about the ‘Bonnie’s psychic’ text that had been hovering around her mind all day. Along the way, she ran into Elena, who had apparently quit the squad, and Stefan, who had apparently joined the football team — not quite the stereotypical couple she’d imagined earlier, but whatever.

Finally managing to locate Bonnie, Grace dove straight into what she’d been itching to ask all day.

“So, Bonnie. Psychic?” Bonnie scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“You know how my Grams will get drunk and then start telling me all these stories about magic and fairies and everything…”

“Yeah, I’ve experienced it a time or two.” Perhaps because Sheila knew Grace herself was a witch, she had even less of a filter when Grace was around.

“Well, the other day she starts going on about how I’m psychic.” As Bonnie explained Sheila Bennett’s drunken rambles, Grace realized what Bonnie had yet to put together. Her Grams was telling the truth – Bonnie was a witch. A powerful one, judging by her lineage and psychic abilities — not as strong as Grace’s, but present enough to mean Bonnie’s powers were likely almost unparalleled. “… I mean its crazy, right?” Bonnie was laughing, but there was the smallest part of her that was starting to think maybe it wasn’t so crazy after all.

“Yeah, maybe.” Grace didn’t think it was quite time to reveal herself to Bonnie, but she didn’t want to be unsupportive either. “But, I mean, I totally predicted the end of that movie the other day, so maybe Grams is on to something.”

“Guys, hello?” Caroline had found them. “Are you going to cheer, or are you going to chat?” The two girls rolled their eyes.

“Good to see you, too, Care Bear.” Caroline ignored them, instead using that freaky talent of hers to hone in on the slightest of imperfections.

“Hey, Tiki, it’s all wobbly. Can you stand straight, please? Could someone please help Tiki?”

Grace had her arms wrapped around Matt, despite his protests that he was fine.

“You’re not fine, you dumbass. You just found your teacher and coach…” She didn’t want to say it out loud. “You’re the one who found him, okay? Don’t pretend that didn’t suck.” They were standing by his stupid truck, the light from the ambulance and police cars throwing strange red and blue shadows over everything. The cab door was open, as Grace had bodily slammed into Matt’s back as he made to get inside and clung to him like a monkey.

“Yeah, Gracie, it sucked.” He sighed. “What kind of animal would do something like this?” Caroline’s mom had made the announcement not long ago – Coach Tanner was the victim of another animal attack, this time right in town. Grace shrugged.

“A starving one, I guess.” But Tanner hadn’t been eaten. Just attacked. Like the others. Matt rubbed his hand down Grace’s back as if he were the one comforting her.

“C’mon, Gracie. I’ll drive you home. You can get your car tomorrow.” He walked her around to the passenger’s side, the door of which sometimes stuck shut, and helped her climb up before finally getting in himself. The air conditioning rattled, a comforting, familiar sound in the silence. Grace toed off her white Nfinities, flexing her aching feet. She’d been an idiot in practice last week and fucked up her ankle during a particularly poorly executed scorpion stunt. She’d wrapped it in elastic wrap her mother had spelled with healing charms before the game, but it was no miracle cure. Matt must have noticed her grimace, because he glanced at her with a disapproving big brother look, despite being a year younger than her.

“How many times have I told you to keep your legs straight?”

“Well, look at you, Mr. Cheerleading Expert.” Grace mocked him, not wanting to admit that he had told her that countless times. After nearly 7 years of watching (and sometimes unwillingly participating) in backyard cheer practice, Matt was somewhat knowledgeable in the sport. Knowledgeable enough to know a stunt will fall if the flyer can’t keep her fucking legs straight, anyway. “Don’t worry, Caroline already tore me a new one.” Damn, had she ever. The moment Grace went down, she’d felt Caroline’s hawk-like gaze on her, even through the bodies of her bases. ‘Stop giving me excuses, Sinclair. It’s been four months! Get it together.’ Elena had been in Grace’s stunt group when her parents were killed, which left the foursome someone bereft of a base when she quit. Caroline had frantically rearranged but getting used to a new base was always an adjustment. Selfishly, Grace was just glad none of this had happened when she was captain.

“Yeah, well Caroline can be a nutcase but this time she’s kind of right.” Grace could feel herself getting defensive, even though he was once again correct, but didn’t want to say something that might stall the effectively distracting conversation. Matt might pretend to be blasé, but Grace was calling bullshit.

“Yeah, I get it mom, I need to be more careful.” By this time, they’d reached Matt’s house and, despite Grace living literally fifteen feet away, Matt drove past his own driveway and pulled into hers. “Seriously, dude?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m a gentleman,” Matt smirked, “sue me.” Rolling her eyes affectionately, Grace moved to unbuckle her seatbelt when she noticed Matt staring toward her house with a strange look on his face. She’d seen that look before. She waited for him to break the sudden silence, but he was lost in thought.

“Matt?” She prompted quietly. She knew what he was going to say, and if talking about it was going to keep his mind off Tanner’s mangled body a little longer, then she’d talk about it.

“It feels weird.” That’s specific. “Looking at… this.” He gestured vaguely towards her house, then back towards his. “I mean… yours is so…”

“Big?” It wasn’t really, not for a family of five — it was actually a completely average house in every way. Two floors, four bedrooms — well, three bedrooms and a converted office — two bathrooms. But next to Matt’s she supposed, it did look a bit extravagant.

“And your car is so…” Again, he trailed off, searching for a nice way to call her spoiled. She didn’t take offense.

“Fancy?” She did drive an Audi - cherry red and the love of her life — but (here comes the justification, she nearly cringed) her father had wanted an Audi for years. By the time they’d saved up enough, they had three little kids and it was impractical. So they kept the savings set aside and when Grace turned 16, her dad finally got his dream car… for her. ‘If you so much as scratch the paint, this car is mine,' her father had warned. Chloe, much to her disappointment, had gotten a Honda as her first car. It was a perfectly good car, but certainly not an Audi. Matt sighed and gave her a sheepish look.

“I’m sorry. I just look at the difference between the two… who knew one yard could feel like such a big divide?” It wasn’t like Matt lived in the “bad part of town” and Grace’s house happened to be the closest. His house should have been perfectly normal, just like hers. But his mother wasn’t the best with finances… Or upkeep… Or mothering. She hated that her family’s good fortune made Matt feel so inferior.

“Well, if anyone can bridge that divide, Donovan… it’s you.” Matt would almost certainly settle quite happily into the small town life, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be a better small town life. He smiled at her, shaking off the seriousness.

“Well, it certainly won’t be the girl who can’t even keep her legs straight.” She punched him, both of them laughing. She gathered her shoes and bag and jumped down onto the still-warm asphalt.

“Goodnight, Donovan.” She called, circling around to his side of the truck. “But seriously. If you’re ever not fine…” she paused, searching for a way to end that statement that didn’t sound too smothering. “Well, you know where I live.” He smiled at her, backing out and pulling into his own car port, before waving goodnight as the side door into the kitchen slammed behind him. Making her way inside, Grace was nearly tackled to the ground by her sister, and she suddenly knew what Matt must have felt like when she leapt on him at his truck.

“Oh my God, Gracie, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Aims. I wasn’t…” I wasn’t there. But she was there, was just around the corner when a wild animal viciously attacked a man she knew. “I didn’t even…” I didn’t even see the body. But she had, just before the coroner draped a white sheet over her old history teacher and loaded him into a van headed to the morgue. “Matt found him.” Matt had it worse. That’s what she meant. She wasn’t fine, but Matt had it so much worse, so how could she admit that? Maybe that’s what Matt himself had felt, in some form.

“Oh my God, that’s awful.” Her sisters weren’t at the game, thank God, as Chloe had dance rehearsal and Aimee a date. All of their knowledge was second-hand and incomplete, which possibly made their worry worse. Or would, when rehearsal was over, and Chloe checked her phone to undoubtedly find dozens of messages ranging from factual to wild rumor. “Was it really a bear?” Grace snorted. She had no idea what kind of animal had attacked Tanner, but whatever story Aimee had heard probably involved some hulking Goliath of a grizzly storming onto the football field and biting the coach in two.

“I have no idea, Aims. No one saw anything.” So it was probably not a bear. Something stealthier, like a cougar. “Have you spoken to mom and dad?” Their parents were also out on a rare date night and Grace wasn’t sure if the news had reached them yet. If so, they were likely speeding their way home at this moment. But Grace’s younger sister shook her head.

“I don’t think they’ve heard yet. I didn’t want to spoil date night and tell them.”

“What about your date? I’m sorry it was cut short.” It was Aimee’s turn to snort, sounding just like Grace.

“I’m not. He spent the entire time bouncing between checking his phone and his reflection.”

“Yikes.” Grace knew her sister’s pain. “I guess maybe one good thing came out of this evening then, yeah?” Aimee worried her lip, something clearly on her mind. “What’s up, Aims?”

“I just… all these animal attacks… do you know of anything that could help?”

“What, like hunting the thing down?”

“No, doofus. Magically. Are there… protection spells or talismans or something, so I don’t have to constantly worry about you and Chloe and mom and dad?” As the only non-witch in the family — though their father practiced very rarely – Aimee’s knowledge of magic had limitations.

“Um, sure. Probably. But I’ve already got my jet.” To illustrate the point, Grace held her hands out her sister, the black rings sparkling on her fingers. She wasn’t technically supposed to wear much jewelry while cheering, but the thumb ring was inconspicuous and unlikely to cause problems. It was also a security blanket of sorts. The other one, the one she’d bought for herself only a few years ago, she took off right before cheering and put on again immediately after.

“Yeah, I don’t know if Chloe’s into the whole black-jewelry thing.” If Grace was into it, then Chloe likely wasn’t, more out of conscious decision than personal preference, but it didn’t matter. There were other alternatives. Grace sat at the dining room table, sliding her mother’s grimoire to her sister.

“Pick your favorite, then.”

Grace completely fucking forgot about the Founder’s Party. Like, literally, would not have remembered to go if her mom and sisters didn’t scream at her to ‘go get ready because your date is picking you up in an hour’. Actually, they walked into Matt’s house, uninvited — where she had been celebrating the news that the culprit of all the animal attacks had been killed (a cougar, like she thought) — and marched her back home.

When Jeffrey Lockwood-Hamilton had approached her and asked her to go to the Founder’s Party with him, quote ‘because it’s going to be so boring and you might actually make it bearable,' she’d been flattered, if confused. It wasn’t that she and Jeffrey were unfriendly, but they didn’t associate much, what with him being two years younger. Grace supposed that, the times they had hung out had been at other excruciatingly dull parties such as the Miss Mystic pageant, which Caroline required Grace to go to every year for ‘moral support’. They’d entertained each other while their respective ‘dates’ had been occupied, so she supposed it had become somewhat of an unspoken tradition that she and Jeff would hang out at parties.

So, here she was, digging her red party dress out from the closet and wincing as Chloe none-too-gently twisted her hair into an updo. The dress was pretty, standard, just passed the knees with a simple, straight silhouette and thin straps. She threw on some strappy sandals and grabbed a purse right as Jeff rang the bell.

“Ready to have some fun?” He asked sarcastically by way of greeting.

“Cheer up, Jeff.” Grace coaxed. “There’s always champagne.”

When they arrived, Grace immediately spotted a potential problem: Damon Salvatore, looking unfairly handsome in his dark suit, was on Caroline’s arm, and they were chatting with Elena and Stefan. Caroline was still sporting that weird-ass scarf.

“I’m about to be super fucking tacky, Jeff, and leave you alone for a few minutes.” Grace grimaced as she made her excuse. Jeff laughed.

“You’re fine, Grace. Go say hey. Bring me back a glass or two of champagne if you can sneak it past my mom.” He nodded to the corner, where his mother had one eye on the heritage display and one on her son.

“Sure thing.” As Grace approached, Caroline began dragging a wary Stefan onto the dance floor before spotting the older girl.

“Gracie, you’re here!”

“I am! And you’re with Stefan.” It was a question phrased as a statement.

“Damon won’t dance with me,” Caroline pouted, “but apparently Stefan is quite talented.” He looked like he would rather be anywhere else.

“Well, he’ll have to be to keep up with you, Miss Mystic.” Caroline beamed at the reminder of her potential title and the compliment.

“Why don’t we find out?” Stefan suggested, motioning Caroline forward. That was clearly code for “let’s get this over with,” but Care either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. Grace continued forward to Damon and Elena, who were studying the heritage displays.

“…I just… I hope you two can work it out.” Elena was saying, in her “Elena voice”.

“I hope so, too.” Damon’s tone rang of double entendre, but Grace dismissed it and made her presence known.

“Founding Families, huh?” She asked, looking over the document they were in front of. “Riveting.”

“You make fun, but you New Orleans-folks have your traditions too.” Elena poked fun right back at Grace, the age-old debate familiar and affectionate. Damon turned to her.

“You’re from New Orleans?”

“I am. I’m Grace.” Knowing he was Stefan’s brother, Grace was beyond reluctant to shake his hand and experience that same slimy emptiness, but it would be extremely rude not to.

“Damon.” He extended his arm and Grace placed her small hand in his, hoping she didn’t look as apprehensive as she felt. His hand was warm, but his soul was cold. Cold and dead, like Stefan’s, but there was something else… a warmth not from life or love, but bitterness and hate and malice all festering inside of him. There’s more than this to him. The Damon she had seen in her vision, the one she had been friends with — closer even than her and Stefan would become, judging from the emotions in her vision — was not this embittered, cancerous thing currently in front of her. So, she pushed deeper and deeper, shoving her way past all the black and bad, until finally, finally, there was something else. Something surprising. Insecurity and… longing. Love, or… something he thought was love. Something that maybe used to be love but was now merely the impression of it. Intelligence still glimmered in every corner of this part of his soul, but it wasn’t the cold cunning of before. It was hard won, a lifetime’s worth — several lifetimes worth — of mistakes and knowledge and experience. This was the Damon she would come to know, someone broken but too proud to show it, who used acerbic humor as both a defense mechanism and a show of support for those few he cared for. Suddenly becoming aware that this handshake was starting to become too long to be normal, she pulled her hand away as he looked her over, assessing. Too deep. She’d pushed her powers too far, had already reached her limit and was practically exhausted and out of breath, like she’d been running. She tried to covertly catch her breath, hoping Damon and Elena didn’t notice.

“Have you been? To New Orleans, I mean.”

“I lived there. Once.”

“Really?” Grace’s eyes widened. It wasn’t often she met other people who’d experienced the magic of New Orleans, let alone lived there. “Do you miss it? I know I do.” He smiled a touch nostalgically.

“Well, it was a long time ago.” There was something in his voice as he said "long time,” the same thing that had been in Stefan’s as he said the same words about playing football. Something that implied more. “But it was a hell of a lot fun.” Grace gave him a once-over.

“You know, Damon, I think you and I are going to get along just fine.” Damon’s eyes gleamed with something even she couldn’t quite place.

“I look forward to it, Grace.”

As Damon and Elena headed off toward the dance floor and their respective dates, Grace noticed Bonnie sitting at a table by herself. She knew that she was ignoring Jeff, but she hadn’t spoken to Bonnie all day, and she had the rest of the party to hover by his side. She made her way over, but when she was a few feet away, the breeze blew out the candle sitting as the centerpiece on the table. Bonnie turned her head, focusing her attention on the candle.

It re-ignited.

Grace stumbled, nearly fell over. Bonnie started, blowing the candle out and glancing around to make sure no one saw. From this short distance away, Grace could feel Bonnie’s budding realization that her Gram’s drunken rambles were true, her fear and confusion, her paranoia and loneliness. And Grace couldn’t let Bonnie believe she was alone in this. So, she righted herself, marched over to her friend, and grabbed her arm. Bonnie looked up at her, obviously scared she had witnessed the candle incident.

“I think we need to talk.” Grace pulled her friend out of her chair and away from bustle of the party. “There’s some things you need to hear.”

[mattelektras]

if it’s not a bother can i get like a shadowland summary? all the ones online r just....complicated hsjdfjc

oh. shadowland’s my favourite so im your gal. i hugely encourage reading it because i love it a lot n if u like elektra its some good shit but i am happy to spend 3948739 words talking about it. say no more

matt was being chased by a drunk blind maybe immortal guy at the time who also speaks solely in third person. thaey become friends eventually. he’s cheating on his wife too. the usual daredevil nonsense. and all of that led him into going to japan for some hand business

he has the bright idea of changing the hand from the inside out (because no one has ever thought of that before. especially not his ex girlfriend who has a habit of making the hand her bitch)

he starts to think maybe good men standing by and doing nothing arent good men and starts being a little bit more aggressive and forward in his daredevil stuff. he tried to use the hand for good but... theyre the hand 

to the surprise of absolutely no one that doesnt work out!! and one of the significant points of change is when he sets the hand on his old blind drunk friend izo. and there are a lot of other suspicious ninja murders too 

matt had previously fucked up and said he should live in a cage with no friends and that the hand is that cave so its kind of signifying that he’s leaning into his flaws and negeative thoughts about himself and he kills izo and becomes Official Hand Daredevil

he starts having visions of himself becoming an actual devil. starts sitting on a throne and people call him lord daredevil. also starts wearing an unbuttoned red shirt and being a little slutty with it 

safe to say that by the time he gets back to hell’s kitchen, he’s changed a lot. and his first act upon coming back to the us is to murder bullseye a la how he killed elektra and he begins his hostile takeover of the city, with the help of the likes of white tiger under hand mind control

builds himself a new throne, does shady shit, starts wearing a black daredevil suit with longer horns and we learn that all his visions and dreams were actually the beast of the hand taking over. elektra and some of his friends (luke, danny, misty, peter) learn of this and they, along with some others assult matt’s little demon king stronghold to try to save him or kill him. for many reasons but personally i feel mainly because hes mean to foggy and if youre mean to foggy you get murdered 

at this point elektra is playing it like she’s on his side, that theyre finally on the same page and stands by his side. but she’s fully aware of what’s going on and has her own plans on it. she just gets torn between her goal of destroying the hand and loving her ex.

during the fight, matt starts physically transforming into more of a beast than a man. danny uses the iron fist on him which seems to cleanse him for a second but not completely. but elektra gets through to matt on some kind of spiritual level (she actually says ‘shh my love, i am here to end your suffering’ which fucked me UP) after he begs her to kill him. he has brief moments of clarity when the beast isnt stronger. she speaks to child matt and for all intents and purposes gives him a huge kick in the ass and tells him to get it together. she tells him how the beast preys on negative emotions and if he wants to be free he needs to be who he truly is, which is daredevil. which matt does, managing to stab himself.

he looks dead, his body cant be resuscitated even though danny says theres a bit of life still there. elektra says to let him go and everyone thinks hes dead, but later, elektra finds the black daredevil mask and knows he survived. obviously matt ends up at a church. and then just roaming around catching buses and focusing on his good intentions and then hes just back n chillin and all is good 

[antique-teacups]

Look beyond the lens

     There is a learning curve that comes with moving to LA. Between the culture shock and constant sun, you were still working on adjusting.  There were places that offered you an oasis among the hustle and bustle. The tiny coffee shop on your block, Sip and Stir, could transport you back home with one cup. It also served as your pseudo home office. Working at Unnamed Press was a dream come true. A passion for English coming to full flourish in your year there. There was hope for many more years, teetering on the cusp of a promotion.

     There were other things in LA that offered solace and happiness. You first met Matt, bumping into one another at Sip and Stir.  You had sat and chatted about all thing literary, Matt quite the bookworm himself. It was refreshing and light so when he asked to have your number there was no hesitation. The two of you talked for a while before he introduced to the entire group, who he referred to as the “vlog squad”. They embraced you with open arms, each gregarious and extroverted. The dynamic of the group surprised you. All supportive of each’s personal endeavors, willing to help out at every turn if they could, yet they were an united front.

     When you first started hanging out with everyone, there was a barrage of questions about your job. All of these people had backgrounds in some domestic job, instead turning to social media to make a living. Your face slowly became more of staple in their vlogs and pictures, especially those of Matt’s. At first, it wasn’t that concerning. You flew under the radar for the most part at work.

     Matt and you were growing closer, until it did turn into something. All your spare time was spent with him and the squad. They filled that hole that remained from leaving home. Most of the time, you sat out of certain bits. Although you knew most of it was harmless, you couldn’t risk losing your job. Zane was the first one to ask you if you considered every joining them on the wave that is living on social media.

     “Honestly, no. I mean, you all have the personality for it, but I don’t think I could survive those shark infested waters. It’s hard enough to get my writing rejected, but that’s survivable. But to have my entire life out there and letting people make their own judgement on that, I don’t think I could survive that. Plus, you’ve seen just how active I am on social media, do you think I could do it?”

     “I guess I see it. You would have to post more than once every couple of months. I think you’re one of the few remaining twenty year old’s who doesn’t share everything on Instagram.” Zane joked, turning to Matt with raised brows. “Someone else also needs to get social media more popping.”

     Matt retorts, “I survive off you, David, and y/n. I do not need to share everything.” Crossing his arms, he turns to share a knowing look with me.

      “Zane, I am happy that you find purpose in sharing from screen to screen, but that’s why I write. I guess I worry sometimes that places won’t work with me or even think about publishing me if they see me plastered on the internet. And that would crush me.” You explain.

      “Share some of your wisdom with me before you let me get a stupid tattoo and drunk on David’s vlog next time.” Zane kids.

      As the weeks turned to months, things at work got crazier. More responsibilities and less time off, often times working right through the weekend. You mulled Zane’s question around in your mind. Never once did you fully consider it but you had to admit you thought about it. The promotion was right around the corner. You hoped they saw just how hard you were working for, just how dedicated you were. The director told you take the weekend off, deliberation was Monday, so that must mean something good, right?

      You were floating on clouds, even surrounded by plastered squad members at David’s that night. Matt and you were off to the side, chatting and sharing a drink. You weren’t intent on getting drunk, not even buzzed. The two of you content to remain in just one another’s company.

              It all happened in quick succession, over in a blink of an eye. Neither you or Matt could quite figure out what happened. Punches were thrown, cuss words spat, and light fixture broken. Heath stomps to the front door, swaying and slurring. Zane sat on the couch, split eyebrow and screaming. The situation needed to be diffused quickly.

              Rushing over, you grab Heath by the arm, hoping to stop him from leaving.

              “God, y/n would you stop acting like the mother? Get off me.” Heath spits out, lightly shoving you away.

              “Heath, you’re way to drunk to drive, let alone leave by yourself. Come sit with Matt and I.” Attempting to coax him back inside.

              “Why would I want to sit with you? You act like your better than us all because “you write for living”.” He says with air quotes. That one stung.

              “Matt, a little help here.” Turning to catch Matt’s eye, you practically beg. Then you see David with his camera trained on you two. “Can you not do that right now?” That was the first and the last time you every asked him to not record something.

              “Oh come on y/n, you know he’s saying that just because he’s drunk.” David replied, rolling his eyes, but not turning the camera away.

              “Matt, please. David, I won’t ask again.” I cautioned. Heath pushes fully away from me, making a break for the door. Anger boils in you for the whole situation. David not respecting your one request, Heath’s drunken confession, the unfairness of dealing with this situation.

              “Heath, I swear to God, you had better get in here and sit down. I am not fucking around anymore. This is no longer funny. You have ruined tonight. You two Zane. Now, Dave, put down the camera and help me.” You sneer.

              Turning around, the entire squad is silent, watching you with surprise. Heath slinks past you, plopping himself down on the couch. Scotty walks over to Zane and Heath, handling the situation on his own. Both anger and hurt were billowing inside you. If Heath made that admission drunk, did he believe that sober? Suddenly you felt like an outcast.

              Turning, you look at David standing there, camera still rolling. “None of this can go in the vlog.” You put simply.

              “I don’t think you get to make that call.” He rebuked.

              Pinching the bridge of your nose, you take a deep breath. “David, this is my first request. I let all that other stuff slip through the cracks. This though,” you wave your hands around,” is a reflection of my personal life. My bosses can see this. This might not seem like a big deal to you. A drunken blow up, but it paints me as irresponsible and unprofessional. So, no this won’t go in the vlog.” You threatened, assuming the argument had been dropped.

              You knew it wasn’t when you got called into the director’s office at work Monday. The director sat with disdain in her eyes and an unsettling cold demeanor.

              “Here at Unnamed Press, we strive for professionalism and integrity. We push all of our employees to explore their creative and continue to strive for their personal goals and endeavors. However, you have chosen some outside of our preferred set.” She declared.

              Your heart was in your throat, blood draining from your face, disbelief settling in your bones. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. But he did. She turned her laptop to face you and plastered on the screen was David’s vlog, paused but with me in full frame.

              “I can explain, really. You have to understand that it was a misunderstanding. I’ll have him take this down right away. I am devoted to this job, please.” You pleaded, knowing right where she was going with this.

              “I am sorry, but it has already caused quite the influx of people bashing the business. I let a lot of the other stuff go because it was mostly harmless, but this, is focused on you. I really wish things were different.” She relented.

              “I’ll pull back, I’ll remove my face from everything associated with them. Please, I need this job. I love this job.”

              “We can’t have people who are associated with something like this representing us. The backlash is simply to great. You of all people should know this kind of attention isn’t going to die down anytime soon.”

              The tears were pricking your eyes. You knew there was no arguing it. “I am sorry.” You whispered before slipping out. Walking right past your desk and out the door, anger was overtaking the hurt. Striding to your car, climbing in, and closing the door. You screamed, hands bashing against the steering wheel. One request, that wasn’t too much to ask. You contemplated calling Matt, but he was already at David’s. You would set this straight.

              A million things crossed your mind on the way to David’s. Some malicious, some trying to see his side, some an acceptance of what happened. Mostly, you felt betrayed. You lost your dream job, a dent in your career. A blow that would last forever. You couldn’t talk your way out of it. You were a joke to the director now, all because you were in some video on the internet. You know that they say the thing so the internet will haunt you forever.

              Pulling in his drive, there were a couple of cars here. Matt’s, Heath’s, and Zane’s. I guess they all played a bit of roll.

              You walked to the front door, not even bothering to knock. Walking past the entry way, they all sat on the couches. Matt was the first one to notice you. “Y/n, what are you doing here? Short day at work?” he asked, smiling. David looked up at the mention of your name, guilt already on his face.

              “Why don’t we ask David? Wait, that does nothing. He’ll ignore it anyway.” You spit.

              “Y/n, let me explain.” He pleaded.

              “No David, let me explain. I lost my job because of you. Did you ever think of that consequence? I asked you not to include it for that exact reason. But you did it anyway.” You hissed.

              “It was a 30 second clip, I cut out the worst parts.” David insisted.

              “Are you even listening to yourself? Dave, I asked, I begged you. I lost my job. Did you even hear that? It doesn’t matter that you cut out the worst parts! They still deemed me unprofessional. The director even brought up all the other shit you’ve posted. Not all of us live on social media David. At least not like you do.” You huffed, chest heaving.

              “You can get another job. It’s not like you can’t go write anywhere. Plus, you could have removed yourself from the situation.” David cheeked, rolling his eyes.

              “Could you for once look beyond that fucking camera lens. You cost me my job. You put a stain on my career. I tried to explain to her it was a joke, but I was the joke. She had mind made up before I even walked in there. Do you not understand that? You aren’t even listening to me.” Heath and Zane both stood, clearly ready to try and make amends. “You two had better sit back down. You are just at fault. I think I am so high and mighty, right? You ruined that for me. You took that away in some drunken night that I didn’t even want to be a part of. Dave, I wish I never met you. It was one request. And now I’ve lost everything. Why are you acting like this isn’t a big deal? Does this mean nothing to you?”

              “Honestly, no. I have to make a living just like you. I am sorry that you lost your job, sure. But that wasn’t my fault. Excuse yourself. You knew what you were getting into.”

              The tears rain down your cheeks at his admission. “OK. This is me removing myself from the situation.” You mumbled before walking out his house.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 155

155

What Lance didn’t know was that Keith was also having a hard time focusing solely on the fish. The aquarium part wasn’t hugely fancy. Nice, but a little repetitive with the main attraction being the big tank you went past when you came in. The place used to breed stock for international and domestic populations, with some fish way cooler than others. The sharks were cool. Kids in awe as they came near the glass wall of the tank that arched up and over the walkway. Keith could have totally dick punched a shark of the glass wasn’t in the way. Irrational fear of the glass breaking had him holding his breath until they’d passed from under the tank. Even Lance seemed jumpy as he flinched as the hugest stingray Keith ever seen turned the tunnel black as it passed overhead.

Tank after tank sat alcoved in the walls. The amount of colours and shapes were ridiculous. Everything was amazing, still Lance managed to bombarded his field of vision. Keith wished Lance hadn’t hidden his face away behind sunglasses, he wanted to see Lance’s eyes, see if his boyfriend was mesmerised by all the thousands of fish or if he was hiding his disinterest. He knew his boyfriend loved water. He loved all things ocean related. He also knew Lance was secretly addicted to documentaries. He hadn’t predicted Lance would be caught up watching him in his date plans. God. How was his heart supposed to cope with this? He felt flustered and way too happy to be the centre of Lance’s focus.

Holding Lance’s hand, Keith interlaced their fingers together so Lance couldn’t wander away. Sometimes he swore his boyfriend did it just to scare the crap out of him, and he never wanted to feel the way he had when they’d gone to the shopping centre together. Dragged away from the lower tanks and crowds of families, Keith was off in his own head taking a long moment to realise they’d stopped in front of a recreated set of jaws

“What the fuck is that?”

Meaning the painting behind the jaws that were kind of intimidating as hell with those big fuck off teeth and a whole lot of nope

“It’s the jaw set of a Megalodon. In front of it is the jaw set from a Great White”

Documentaries were one thing. This... was... Keith wasn’t sure how he’d look at the beach again. Megalodons better bloody be dead. There was no way he was letting kids in the water at any beach with those huge bastards swimming around

“You know how I said I’d punch a shark for you... I would, but those teeth...”

Lance snorted at him, his boyfriend tugging his hand free

“I’m the only one who gets to sink their teeth into you... plus, I won’t tell if you punch it. I’m going to punch it”

Keith panicked hard. Punching an exhibit seemed a good way to be booted out

“What?! Babe, you can’t... They’ll kick us out!”

Shrugging him off, Lance waited until no one was close to them before walking over to the set of jaws. Covering his face, Keith didn’t want to look, but that didn’t stop him from peaking through his fingers, watching as Lance punched the lower jaw with all the aggression of a leaf. Grinning at him, Keith realised he’d been had. Lance obviously wouldn’t punch an actual exhibit. Groaning, Keith dropped his hands as Lance covered his toothy smile. What the heck had he been thinking? Why was he acting so totally lame and uncomposed

“You can touch you know. Because it’s not an actual jaw set. Didn’t I mention that?”

“No. You conveniently forgot to. Stand still, I’m going to take a photo and tell Pidge you’re being mean to me”

Moving his hand to his forehead, Lance faked a staggered swoon

“Oh no! Not the Gremlin! How ever can I apologise?”

Talk about dramatic. His boyfriend should have been an actor

“You fear the Gremlin as much as I do”

Keith pulled out his phone to snap a few shots as Lance posed as if scared he was about to be eaten. What an idiot. A big dorky idiot that was his

“I do, but it’s a healthy fear built up over the years and smothered in love”

“Oh, so no love for Hunk?”

“Excuse you. Hunk is the embodiment of sunshine. Now come over here and let’s get a photo together. You can even punch a shark in the mouth”

“I’m not into destroying the displays like you are”

Lance rolled his eyes at him, holding both hands out until Keith finally started moving towards his boyfriend. He’d gotten a good spread of Lance. He’d be screwed if his boyfriend wanted to look back at today’s photos. Ninety-nine percent of his photos were of Lance

“You break into a school once and they never let you forget it. Lotor never did bother clueing us in on that. A bit like how I still have no real idea about Rome”

Posing for photos with Lance, Keith didn’t know what to say about Rome or why they were going back to that again

“Rome is done with”

“I know. I still don’t know much about what happened though. I know. Today’s not the day to ask”

“Nope. I can’t even remember what I’ve told you, but I don’t know how much that matters when the most important outcome is that you’re safe”

“And Curtis is all demony. Do you think he’s stronger than me now?”

Keith stowed his phone away. Curtis shouldn’t have to feel obligated to tell him more than he was ready to. So he hadn’t pushed it

“Maybe. Does he feel different to you? I mean, you can like tell can’t you? About the demon?”

Humming, Lance looped his arm around Keith’s, the pair of them starting to move away from the fake jaws

“A bit. He’s still Curtis though so that’s all I need to know. I’ve given up on me ego being a weirdo. I mean, Matt and Rieva sometimes set it off and that’s whack seeing they’re family”

“Our family is weird as hell”

Lance nodded with a laugh

“Our family is close to hell. Seriously. A vampire who senses death and sees fuzzy things. Pidge who is a raging gremlin with no coffee. A demon from hell. Matt and Rieva are much more powerful under the light of the moon. You’re all dark and broody...”

“What about Shiro?”

Lance’s tone was strained and reaching, words slightly spaced

“He’s got dark hair?”

“That’s all you’ve got?”

“Yep. I know. I’m lame. I don’t know. Sometimes I did want to shake him, but he’s your brother and he’s family. I can see why he’s such a weirdo after meeting the Blades. I can’t imagine a whole bunch of them. It scares me”

That hurt. To Lance they’d always be distant and weird... then again, that was the truth, even if him being a Blade was what brought them together. They’d let a mark be put on his head, he’d always be a case on their files that someday someone might change their minds over

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to. How does Hunk work into this?”

“Ummmm... The sun is hot and the flames of hell are? I don’t know. He’s like all the good things in one... Didn’t I tell you I was low on brain cell power?”

Turning to face Lance, Keith pretended to feel for a fever, teasing his boyfriend lightly as he did

“You’re not warm... I think you got away with using that brain power but you should probably give it a rest. I don’t know how to explain to people that your head exploded from thinking”

Lance gaped at him, then huffed as he pouted

“You’re so mean. It’s not my fault. I’m like smart and stuff. It’s happened before”

“Maybe. Maybe not. How will we ever know?”

Lance hummed lightly, before clicking his fingers

“Oh! I’ve got it! If I’m so dumb, why did I choose to spend the rest of my undead life with you?”

Keith shrugged, cheeks warm as he tried to play down how happy he was that Lance had

“I’ve been asking myself since the moment you liked me back. Maybe your dumbness wore off on me?”

“This coming from the guy who thought I’d turned him after he punched me in the mouth. You were such a cute little anger loaf. All broody and pouty...”

Ugh. He’d never ever live that down. Lance would drop it in an instant if Keith asked

“Like you’re any better you idiot crumpet. At least I had my reasons”

Because vampires had been the sworn enemy and had robbed him of the most family like family he’d known. He’d loathed them. Thrown himself in recklessly and nearly lost his life, only have everything he’d taught be wrong

“I know. I’m really glad you opened up to me. This is much nicer than jumping out of windows to avoid you, or rescuing you from would be muggers”

“That happened once”

Did Krolia really count? They hadn’t known it was her soooo maybe?

“Ahem, twice. First at the cinema. Or did you forget my manly attempts to save you”

Keith snorted. Oh. He barely remembered that. He’d been pissed at being forced to move at Lance’s speed

“Manly? I thought you were the biggest moron ever”

“Rude! I was very manly and stuff. You’re breaking my heart”

That was lie, Keith biting back with

“Better than staking your heart”

“Don’t go staking my heart!”

Lance sounded like he was singing something, Keith staring at him blankly

“Elton John? Babe, you do know who that is, right?”

“A singer?”

“Oh babe... oh, my sweet idiot. I have so much to teach you”

“If you say so”

“I do. He is legend. I’m shook. I’m shook and going to need to educate you on the way of Sir Elton”

Of course he knew who Elton John was. He kind of knew the song yet was sure the lyrics didn’t go like that. Keith muttering under his breath

“I’ll shake you”

“Nooo. No shaken vampires. It’d be like shaking one of these tanks. Our little cupcakes are gonna be all swished up”

“Fine. You get a free pass for now. Where do we go next?”

“They’ve got an exhibit on Orcas. Did you know they’re not a whale but a dolphin?”

“Yeah, and that they attack moose. They’re like the family member you don’t invite anywhere”

Lance nodded quickly

“I know, right. Dolphins are supposed to be all cute and then you’ve got killer whales. They’re nasty. Man, jelly fish have the right idea with no brains”

Keith wasn’t about to be “out facted”. Not when he knew stuff about stuff

“Did you know people used to stand in whales like it was a magical cure”

“Well, did you know Moby Dick was based on a real whale named Mocha?”

Keith wanted to protest that one. Mocha was a delicious coffee drink... instead he moved onto his next fact

“Did you know a Blue whale can live up to 90 years?”

“Mhmm. Like how their tongue can weigh the same amount as an elephant. You know people think Nessi is a sturgeon”

“Nessi can’t be explained. Nessi doesn’t need explaining”

“Just like Mothman?”

“Yep. Somethings just are”

“You’d make a cute Mothman. Jumping off balconies and all”

“That wasn’t my fault! I blame Shiro”

“Suuuure. Blame your brother. Let me know how that works out for you”

Keith huffed in defeat. He had no one to blame other than the bottle of tequila

“Whatever. Which way to the Killer Whales?”

“To the left. You know, they can weigh up to 6 tons”

“And that they’re teeth are like 4 inches long. And sharks don’t even like eating humans”

Keith felt kind of smug being able to match Lance fact for fact, until he found himself choking on air as his boyfriend delivered the final blow and Keith without a comeback

“If you want 4 inches, I’ll give you the longest four inches of your life”

Whelp. There was nothing smart he could say back to that. He had nothing. His brain had short circuited and his blood was fast draining down to his other brain. Laughing, Lance tugged him along, Keith stumbling as he let himself be moved. How did he reply to that? He didn’t have a reply for that. Now he was popping a semi in his jeans and he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to look at whales the same way ever again.

[gemstoneslesbian]

I love you Matt hcs so much! So much inspiration for mine too!

Have you got any post-cannon hcs? (Maybe angst/Whump one? But that’s not so important I would love to hear any ^^)

Thank you sm!! :D

All right SO, my main niche in the fandom is fleshing out the Ace Attorney prison, examining the relationships between all the characters there, fleshing everyone out, considering their character arcs, etc. It’s definitely something I put a lot of thought into and get excited about ^^

I imagine there being three main prisons:

Prison A

The canon prison shown in Ace Attorney Investigations: 2. Prisoners are allowed one animal companion, there’s a supplier with influence over the warden (and, imo, the guards as well), it’s overall a prison that can be interpreted as more relaxed--with limited corruption, due to the fact that, in my opinion at least, Sirhan Dogen wouldn’t put up with much BS. Although he can’t control everything, Dogen has a decent amount of power that he uses to make his prison livable.

Prison B

This is the opposite of Prison A. Damon Gant is in charge, but in a different kind of way; after being Chief of Police for so long, he still has a lot of power and connections, and many officers hold respect and / or fear towards him. The prison is a hierarchy of power and control with a lot of corruption, and anyone who doesn’t work for Gant is in danger.

Prison C

The women’s prison. Dee Vasquez has the upper hand here, due to her outside connections with the mafia. She handles things in a more manipulative, underhanded kind of way--isn’t so much focused on the prison at large, but moreso on securing her own matters. She uses protection or exploitation sparingly, and when she does, she deflects attention off of it as much as possible. While the prison isn’t as horrible as Prison B, it’s not as safe as Prison A.

Now that the environment has been established, time to get into the details about Matt:

‎

‎

Matt Engarde went to Prison A.

In Ace Attorney, fame and riches seem to make little difference when it comes to putting someone behind bars. However, the game does show that it can add complications, and affect things to a certain level. With that said, here’s how I imagine things went over with the arrest:

Things are a whirlwind of chaos and fear and pain at first, but it doesn’t take him long to get a deal set up with the prison. Sometime within the first week of his imprisonment. Thankfully, this is done quickly enough that his assets haven’t been transferred to his parents, yet.

His sentence is 10 years. No death penalty or life sentence, because the deal is that, for each year that Matt Engarde is alive and healthy, the prison receives $500,000. This would give them ample reason to take measures to protect him from De Killer.

Matt doesn’t have an endless amount of money, and he also doesn’t want to be stuck there forever. In his mind, hopefully De Killer would be behind bars or dead by the end of those 10 years, and if not... well, he’ll figure it out when he gets there.

He’s given the cell down the hall from Sirhan Dogen, the infamous assassin. This scares the HELL out of Matt at first, but the guards assure him that it’s for his own safety:

However, since he’s placed in this cell before the deal is made, there was an ulterior motive as well. Due to the fact that Shelly De Killer is another infamous assassin, Warden Roland considered it a possibility that he’s one of Dogen’s outside contacts. If Dogen were to rat out Matt’s location to him, the prison would be prepared to capture and arrest De Killer, and it would be confirmed that they had been contacts.

Obviously, Dogen could rat him out no matter which cell he’s in, but it’s more convenient to place Matt there as bait since the hallway is monitored so heavily--they’ll be prepared to restrain both De Killer and Dogen if/when that time comes.

If the deal were made beforehand, he likely would have been sent to Prison B; even though it’s a harsher atmosphere, no one in there is presumed to be a contact of De Killer’s. While he could have been transferred at this point, it’s decided that they’ll stick to their regular plan, just with added precautions and safety measures.

Matt, although suspicious, never has any sort of confirmation that he’s being used as bait--at least, not until years later.

BUT ANYHOW.

‎

‎

Interactions and Reputation

I get into it a bit in this fic*, but the gist is this:

There’s no point in continuing to act charming when everyone knows it’s BS, and any chance of Toughness or Good Standing he could have had are kinda... shattered by his frequent (very loud) panic attacks late at night.

For the first year, he doesn’t bother trying to make friends. He doesn’t care about them, they won’t care about him, and he’s not interested in playing a tug-of-war with power dynamics when he knows he won’t always necessarily come out on top. So he’s kind of a loner here. Occasionally entertains himself by picking fights.

*(Spoiler warning for AAI2 in the fic I linked!!)

‎

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Character Arc

From this point, I can see it going in several different directions. I have two different fic AUs where things turn out differently in each one, and I also have an extensive role-play I did with a friend of mine. In terms of imagining his “canon” life and his future, I definitely learn towards the events that transpired in the role-play, so I’ll focus on those.

(My friend and I made a post analyzing his personality and character arc, so most of the things I’ll mention here have been mentioned in this post in greater detail. HOWEVER the post is EXTREMELY long and also contains major spoilers for AAI2. So if you want to avoid spoilers and also want a summed up version, feel completely free to just read the summary below!) (oh also, with relation to the post I just linked, tw for?? a variety of common triggers)

I should mention that this might not be COMPLETELY spoiler-free, but I do avoid saying the spoilery name. It’s hard for me to accurately gauge what is and isn’t revealing, since I already know all the spoilers haha.

And, without further ado:

-Everything about his world has been turned upside-down. Instead of being adored, he’s despised. Instead of being the one with power, he’s the one under the thumb of others. Instead of a life of comfort and privilege, he’s confined to small, uncomfortable areas, and is barely paid anything for his labor. Additionally, he could be killed at any moment at any hour at any location--and this is something he’s forced to endure for years on end. The entire situation is incredibly stressful and traumatic for him.

-About a year after his arrest, a guy moves into his cell with him. Things align in just the right way that a friendship of some sort is formed between them: the guy is friendly, pretty, relatable, into some of the same hobbies he’s into, and he has power within the prison walls. It’s beneficial to form a friendship with him... and the guy isn’t annoyed with him for his (now much less-frequent) panic attacks, but rather, shows sympathy.

-Neither of them particularly trust one another, but they enjoy each other’s company.

-Humans need comfort, and Matt is no exception. Under the intense trauma and stress he’s enduring, it’s all too easy to form some sort of bond with the nice guy who dances with him and pets his hair and holds him.

-It’s important to mention that Matt is rendered unable to do his usual power & control shit. And he especially can’t get away with that kind of stuff when his new cellmate shows up. The guy is Very Alert to underhanded behavior (due to his own underhandedness + the fact that he’s dealt with one too many bastards), and is quick to call Matt out on even minor things. So Matt’s options at this point are either:

a.) try his manipulative shit and lose any small amount of power or comfort he may have had, with an added risk of retribution

b.) resist all forms of connection / interaction with other people, and just be miserable and alone and scared all by himself

c.) be friends with the guy WITHOUT being a shady douche, and getting to enjoy the comfort and benefits that provides

-So... YEAH. Long story short, he makes friends with the guy. And, also, lowkey catches feelings for him.

-Matt also makes friends with Simon Blackquill a couple years later (and that has its own backstory)

-His previous ways of moving through the world do not work at all here. In the end, Matt’s main goal is to get what he wants, and to feel good. With the circumstances, he has to completely change his approaches in order to meet that goal.

-Matt may be cold and uncaring towards other people’s emotions, but it’s clear that he does have very intense emotions. He shows much more vulnerability and pain now than he used to, because doing so makes him more sympathetic to his friends--but he also needs to learn to not be as manipulative about it, and to actually consider the other person’s emotions instead of making it all about himself.

-He does ultimately decide to make the overall changes necessary for healthy interpersonal connections, since it’s in his best interest to do so. It’s not easy, and he hits plenty of road bumps along the way. It definitely dredges up a lot of shit, a lot of painful emotions; he’s extremely self-protective, and genuine vulnerability is hard and frightening.

-The tl;dr is that he’s dragged through a healing arc, kicking and screaming the entire way.

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That’s what his life in like in prison, overall! There’s a ton of aspects and details, but I figured it’d be best to cover the basic storyline ^^

I also have thoughts on how things would go after he’s released from prison.

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...OH SHIT I COMPLETELY FORGOT TO MENTION THE SHELLY THING LMAO

I’m gonna make a post where I detail out what happens, and then link it here when I finish.

Edit: Here it is!

[youllfloattoomotherfucker]

“Would you get your shit together?”

Why wasn't Matt surprised? Maybe because Peter had been a mess for days now, maybe because Matt could basically feel the man vibrate in place. Either way, Matt wasn't surprised. 

What he was surprised over, was the fact that Peter snapped in the middle of the night, begging the lawyer to open his window.

“I know you can hear me, Mattie, just open the window! Please, I need you.”

Matt could basically hear the pretend-pout on Peter's lips.

With a sigh, he got out of bed and patted over to said window. He braced himself and opened it, letting Peter crawl, almost fall in. 

“Thank you!” the Spiderling all but screamed, hugging Matt. 

“What did you take?” Matt asked, concerned. Peter's heartbeat was way too fast and his muscles were tensed, but Peter sounded careless and whiny and slurring. Peter almost crushed him in his hold, hugging him tightly.

“Nothing!” Peter lied. Matt pushed him back to get some space between them and listened, still holding Peter’s shoulder with one hand.

“Okay, I took a little something I made in my lab, and maybe a Red Bull but I just wanted to say something!” Peter rambled on, the place where Matt was touching him heating up. Matt could hear Peter’s breath hitch and he turned his head a little.

“Wow, you look good without a shirt on! Anyway!” 

Matt flinched when Peter moved his hand, way too quickly, to feel Matt’s chest, stepping closer.

“I just…” he slowed down, his gaze burning on Matt. The younger swallowed and held his breath for a few seconds, before releasing it. 

The fingertips on Matt’s chest left a searing trail and Matt grabbed the other’s wrist, feeling all too well where this was going.

“What do you mean, something I made in the lab? What kind of thing?” he hissed, half pissed off now.

“It’s nothing dangerous, don’t worry about it! Just something that lowers my impulse control because honestly I’ve been wanting to ask you for so long and I just, oh well actually I made a little something that has the same effect as alcohol, see I can’t get drunk, so, but y’know I know you can’t see but you know what I mean, and I thought if I take some energy drink with it I should be able to get my Spidey-sense back, or at least have a replacement for it, because it’s been acting off lately and I spent most of my time in the lab anyway, and -”

“Peter!” Matt interrupted. It was hard to follow Peter’s thought process and he just kept spilling words and Matt could feel himself getting riled up just from how… High? Peter was being.

“Why’d you have to stoop so low as to take drugs? If something was bothering you, you know you could’ve talked to me.”

This made Peter pause, his heart rate slowing down in shocks. He breathed out before shuffling back a little, feeling slightly ashamed.

“I know, it’s just I… MJ broke up with me a few days ago.” 

His voice was low, but his body hadn’t stopped yet. There was still pure adrenaline coursing through his veins, even though he was tired. It seemed like Peter was holding back, wanting to be serious.

“I know, buddy. I’m sorry,” Matt took a step closer, hesitating to hug Peter again. But Peter looked up and didn’t lean in. He made a strangled noise and Matt put up a hand, as if to say let me explain.

“I noticed you’ve been running around for days now, and you always seem to be working. Either as Spidey or your regular job. Combine that with the fact that you’re always alone, and in emotional pain.”

“You’re watching me now?” Peter didn’t sound offended, rather curious.

“Kind of, I was worried. Especially after that one night we patroled together.”

He frowned, tilting his head slightly.

Peter just huffed a breath, shaking his head a little before letting the adrenaline take over again, as if every second he resisted, his heart was crushing in on itself.

“Well, yeah. I just wanted to ask if you know… You know what, it doesn’t matter. I just wanted to see you again.” 

He said it a little slower than before, but still with haste.

Matt felt flattered and confused, but that was washed away immediately when he heard Peter’s heartbeat flutter up again.

Peter took a step forward again.

“I just thought the ‘drugs’ would help me stay focused. I have like four hours of sleep to my name for this week, I’m running on caffeine, but it doesn’t keep me awake as it used to. My body just processes it in minutes. And I just - I just wanted to feel something again!” 

Matt grinned, knowing full well Peter did this on purpose.

“Like now?” he cocked his head in Peter’s general direction, challenging him. 

Peter’s hand were shaking just enough to be noticeable and he swallowed quickly, before leveling his voice. 

“Yeah, exactly,” he breathed out, dropping his mask. He gave in, stopped caring about what exactly Matt could and couldn’t hear or notice.

He was so close to Matt now, could feel the heat radiating off him. The hairs on his arms straightened up at once when he heard the other chuckle. 

Peter couldn’t help the thing he did next, wanted… Something, anything Matt would allow.

In an instant, he was clinging to Matt, one hand in his hair and the other on his back, his hips and stomach pushing against Matt’s.

Peter was practically vibrating against the other, and Matt had to stifle a laugh. He could easily imagine how loud Peter’s head was being at that moment, but his warm hand on Matt’s hair made it hard to focus on Peter again.

Matt mirrored Peter’s hands, keeping him close.

“Hey, it’s okay, break ups suck but they’re not going to kill you,” Matt whispered.

Peter whimpered in response, shifting and resting his head against Matt’s neck, breathing out. He pulled off his mask and dropped it to the floor, feeling like he would suffocate.

His nerves were on fire, reacting to every move Matt made, every word echoing in his ears. He cursed under his breath, head swimming in dizziness.

Then he leaned up and put his lips on Matt’s, pushing against them. Matt didn’t push back, but Peter felt his fingers tighten, twitch for a second. 

Matt pulled back eventually, but still held Peter.

“Would you get your shit together?” he hissed, almost offended, even if the taste of Peter’s lips was intoxicating.

Peter whined at the words, pushing his body more against the other. 

“Please,” he begged, lucky that Matt was holding his waist, otherwise his legs were gonna give in for sure.

“Please, Matt,” he repeated, his head too foggy to argue that he knew Matt wanted this too.

Matt laughed bitterly, shaking his head. He knew he was just Peter’s back up, his little crush, why else would Peter come here in the middle of the night?

“You need to sleep, get your head on straight,” he stated, resisting the urge to travel his hand down and squeeze Peter’s ass.

 Peter shook his head, heart rate going up steadily. 

“I just want you,” he said lowly. He didn’t know how else to phrase it, and besides, he could feel something poke his thigh gradually. He was buzzing with want and adrenaline and he was so ready to be fucked by someone for several hours. And that someone was Matt.

“Peter,” Matt trailed off, trying to step back but Peter just took his wrist, curse his super strength. 

“You’re not thinking straight.”

“You know for a lawyer you’re not very persuasive,” Peter teased. He’d noticed the slightly shaky tone in Matt’s voice.

He leaned up again, trying to kiss the other. But Matt pulled back, stopping Peter.

“Just… Just do me a favor,” he said, listening to Peter’s heart as much as he could.

“Anything,” Peter said sincerely. 

Matt nodded at the answer, Peter was being honest.

“Sleep with me,” Matt continued, and Peter huffed amusingly.

“I sure am trying,” he smiled, flailing his hand around to get his point across. Matt chuckled and said: “I meant actually sleeping,” slightly smiling at Peter.

Peter groaned and stepped into Matt’s space again, leaning his head on the other’s shoulder.

“Mattie,” he whined, sighing out.

“My body isn’t ready for sleep, I don’t feel tired at all!”

Hesitantly, Matt put his hand on Peter’s neck, caressing it. He was satisfied with the slight jump of Peter’s heartbeat the gesture got.

“You’re very tired,” Matt whispered. He knew the effects energy drinks had on a tired and wrung out body.

“Trust me,” he said, “if you just let me take care of you for a while, you’ll feel better,” he continued.

Peter let a long, exaggerated breath before rising up again, gazing at Matt’s face for a while.

“Oh God, you’re serious, aren’t you?” he sighed, biting his lip just enough to feel the pressure.

“Yeah, of course,” Matt said, voice lighter than before.

Peter hesitated but then gave in.

“Promise you’ll fuck me in the morning?” he asked before pressing a soft kiss on Matt’s lips, who returned the favor this time.

“If you still want me by then,” he said in a lower voice, showing his own insecurity. Peter almost crawled in Matt’s arms again at that comment, couldn’t believe Matt thought he just wanted a quick fuck from him, before holding himself back. 

“Hell yeah, you probably have an idea how long I’ve been lusting after you, and you’re such a good friend, I just… I wouldn’t turn you down if you killed someone,” Peter confessed, knowing that was a sore spot.

Matt huffed and gave himself the time to take that in. His heart almost melted, raising his hand to caress Peter’s face, who smiled softly. He could feel Peter calm down at the touch, pressing his hand to Matt’s, humming.

“You’re too good to me,” the younger smiled, breathing in and out deeper than before.

Matt didn’t say anything for a while, wrapping his arm around Peter and holding him.

Peter’s eyes were dry and he rubbed them, they itched suddenly. He yawned and pressed his face into Matt’s chest.

“Goddammit, Murdock. Look what you’ve done!” he faked annoyance, but his voice was flat and soft. Matt hummed happily.

“What? Calmed you down so you can finally get some sleep?” Matt asked, pressing a quick kiss on the other’s cheek before guiding him to the bed, tugging at his wrist as he lay down.

Peter stood beside the bed, not pulling his hand back. He watched the way Matt lay on his back, licking his lips. The urge to crawl on top of him was swelling and Peter felt like his chest was going to burst from the hazy lust, a cloud fogging up his thoughts.

He let himself sit right on Matt’s crotch, putting a hand on each side of his head to keep himself steady. Matt grinned and bucked his hips up, grinding against Peter, who whimpered in response.

His bones felt tired and yet he wanted to kiss every inch of Matt’s body. Carefully he leaned down for a sloppy kiss on the lips, letting his chest rest against Matt’s.

“Mm, Pete,” Matt interrupted, sweetly caressing Peter’s face and shoulders, “I don’t think this is gonna last long, you’re about to pass out,” he said, placing a distracting kiss on Peter’s neck.

Peter made a noise, not sure what he wanted to say, but he wanted to protest somehow.

“No,” he whined, seeing dark circles form in front of his eyes, hearing Matt’s voice hum in his ear, somewhere in the distance noticing pressure on his neck and hair. His eyelids had felt heavy before but that had stopped, and Peter swam in this feeling of comfort. Matt was warm and nice and Peter felt safe.

Matt laughed silently, petting Peter’s hair. His heartbeat had slowed down significantly and he was slurring something, Matt thought it was supposed to be his name, but it was too incoherent. He shifted so Peter was laying on his side, pulled a pillow under the other’s head and pulled up the blanket.

Matt shuffled closer and held Peter close, trying to protect him from the world. 

[mariamermaid]

Dangerous Woman

Detective Loki X Female Reader

Summary: When a huge case involving a serial killer evolves, it is decided to add a federal agent from the FBI. Detective Loki doesn´t seem very happy about the newly found support….

Words: 8.3k

Warnings: violence, graphical terms, smoking, drinking, swearing

A/N: Inspired by the song Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande and this turned out so much longer than expectedXD

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The matt black Camaro parked right in front of the rather small police station, located in Pennsylvania.

“Look likes your new partner has a good taste in cars”, a deputy snarked and the other officers interrupted in casual laughter. David Loki didn´t seem impressed.

He silently hated the fact that the partner he was signed up with was into posh cars, he probably was some kind of asshole from the higher ranks, thinking he was better than everybody.

Almost the entire police station was glued on the window, waiting for the Agent to step out the car. There wasn´t much information provided from the FBI; special agent Y/l/n, was in the army, Afghanistan and Iran, Sergeant first class, trained sniper, one of the highest kill rates…

Degree in criminal psychology, black belt in taekwondo and karate…

To sum up; a storybook career.

Loki waited in the back of the station, leaned against the small kitchen counter, a freshly poured coffee cup in his hand. From the back he could still look at the window and wasn´t half as conspicuous.

Then the door finally opened, a dark boot stepped out first, then everybody´s jaws dropped.

Agent Y/l/n, was a woman?

You wore boots, a simple pair of jeans and your favorite leather jacket, which held you warm in the foggy state. You were stupid if you hadn´t realized the station watching you, so you made sure to give them a show. You already guessed that you had to deal with some kind of sexist assholes, you always had to in your job. But you never missed an opportunity to show them wrong, you were highly qualified and you took your job very seriously. Especially when it involved a multiple case of brutal murder and a possible serial killer.

 Don't need permission

Made my decision to test my limits

'Cause it's my business, God as my witness

 When you walked into the police station, half of the officers were still standing at the window, the other half had hurried back to the desks to act unobtrusive casual.

You walked over to the very first desk, where a young deputy was seated, he already blushed when you approached.

“I´m here to see a Detective Loki”, you stated and shyly the deputy looked up to barely hold eye contact with you.

“Miss, I think you got lost, this is a police station.” Another officer, Loki knew him well, interrupted your conversation. He was older than Loki, been there longer but Loki had solved more cases and all of them successful. He and Johnson didn´t get along very well, he was an idiot. He didn´t treat women right, cheated on his girlfriend multiple times and if Loki didn´t know it better, Johnson had hit her as well. But he was highly respected, grew up in the town and just like that, he was able to gloss over the incidents with women.

He already wanted to put his cup down, to get the young woman away from Johnson, when she pulled out her badge.

“Special Agent, Y/l/n, FBI”, she visibly rolled her eyes, Johnsons jaw dropped again.

“You´re…” He couldn´t finish, you didn´t let him.

“I`m here to help investigate a murder, so if you don´t mind, I would appreciate it if you showed me to Detective Loki, before another dead body turns up.”

The police station fell silent, nobody ever talked like that to Johnson, sometimes Loki did, but he stopped bothering a long time ago.

It was until Loki cleared his throat and joined your small group, the cup still in one of his hands.

“You´re looking for me”, he explained and his free hand reached out. You shook it and noted the strong grip, but not too strong really. He realized that you still looked young, younger than him even, especially considering the pile of titles you had already received.

“Y/n, Y/n Y/l/n.”

“David Loki.” You both nodded at each other with mutual respect and relieved that you didn´t have to put up with Johnson anymore longer, you followed Loki to his desk.

His desk was located in the back of the station, shielded from the rest by some thin walls. Two other desks were in the cube, only one of them had a computer.

“This one´s yours”, he nodded towards the one with the computer. At the wall were pictures hung up, a few notes next to them.

You eyed them closely until Loki held up a file to you.

“Three dead bodies in two weeks, two women and one man. The women were killed by poison and after their, what seemed painful, death, were put into gruesome poses.

You starred at the pictures in horror; the first woman, she barely seemed twenty, was hung from the ceiling right above a white, king sized bed with golden details. The rope was attached to her hands, she was naked and around her mouth was a gag bit. At the wall behind her was writing in red: “No legacy is as rich as honesty”.

“Shakespeare”, you murmured more to yourself than to Loki. He still nodded.

“It´s seems to be a theme”, he handed you more pictures from the second woman.

She was naked as well, bruises covering her body, sat on a simple wooden chair. Her legs were spread and a dark blue color was smeared from her inner legs to the floor, where it spelled: Lawless are they that make their wills their law.

Your breath hitched; “Was she…?” Loki shook his head quickly, understanding.

“No, none of them were raped. The woman had traces of needle injections at their arms, the man on his neck.”

Loki watched you process, your eyes racing through the files, your bows furrowed and your nose slightly twitched.

“The man was found just yesterday, I haven´t been to the murder scene yet”, he further explained and you laid down the files on your desk.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Loki almost jumped up from his chair, grabbing his jacket. You quickly glanced at his figure, he was taller than you, a muscular build with broad shoulders. His hair was sleek back, on his neck was a tattoo of a star, and on his fingers was ink as well. Around his torso was the holster with the gun. He had icy eyes and dark brows.

You had to admit, he was attractive.

When you walked through the station behind him, you could feel the eyes lingering on you.

“You drive, you know the vicinity better than me”, you stated and already followed him to his car.

***

The corpse was still lying on the ground when you arrived. Two men were just about to lift the body away, when you stopped them from doing so.

“Leave him be!” You ordered and almost sprinted out of the car, Loki right on your tail. He noted your fast sprint, keeping it in mind.

You both took out the badges, then entered the closed off location.

Loki was handed a file from an officer and read it out, while you took a closer look at the body.

“Ben Brown, age; 31, worked at the library, described as a shy, but polite neighbor.”

He realized how you barely listened and then stopped reading, to join you as well.

You were leaned over the body, your fingers in rubbery gloves, you slowly searched the body.

His collar was squashed right where the needle at gone into this skin.

Bruises around the neck as well.

“He fought against it, he tried to get away.” You figured and Loki looked at you, almost surprised, his eyes squinting.

“How´d you know?”

“The collar, it´s dry, but it´s been raining for two days, he grabbed the coat to leave the house. He was surprised by the killer. And the needle at the neck was brutally pushed into the skin, you see the coloring around the neck and the wrists, he was held down. It needed to go quick, the women were all tied when the injection came.”

You were good, even David had to admit, but he would never admit it openly.

“His watch, expensive, probably a present, with the salary of a librarian he couldn´t afford that.”

“There is nothing said about his family, they weren´t close. No girlfriend.” David added until you suddenly jumped up from the ground to look at the color on the wall.

“It´s blue? The same as from the second murder?” You asked and Loki nodded.

“Seems like it.” Detective Loki wasn´t one to share his thoughts, but you were quick to analyze and he knew that it would help the case. It was all that mattered.

“Be or not to be, that is the question”, you read out the quote, then going back to biting your lip.

You both starred at the wall in silence until you suddenly turned again to rush towards Loki´s car.

“Where are you going?”

“We. We are going to the library.”

 Start what I finished

Don't need no hold up

Taking control of this kind of moment

I'm locked and loaded

Completely focused, my mind is open

 ***

Loki took the statement from the other librarians, but none of them knew too much about Brown, he was quiet, ordinary.

In the mean time you had sat down at the computer and your fingers quickly tipped away. Loki seemed annoyed by the tone of the keys, mostly because you were able to work so fast and he himself wasn´t good with computers.

When Loki was finished and he then looked over your shoulder; you searched through the data base for several books from Shakespeare.

“Andy Williams, within four months he read every book that is available here.” You rose and almost bumped into Loki, who was closer than you had expected. For seconds you felt his breath hitting you skin and his eyes starring at your close face.

“Sorry”, you mumbled while he led back to his car.

“You know where Andy´s living?”

“No, but I´ll find out on the way.”

  Andy Williams was a failure, he had an alibi for the times of the murder, but you didn´t fully trust him.

He was at the army and turned out to be a literature lover. You had found several books from Shakespeare and other famous authors in his house.

Now you and Loki both sat at your desks, looking through the files, searching for something, anything really.

When a knock appeared, Loki´s head snapped from the computer to see Johnson leaning at the wall.

“Thought I could ask, if you needed some help”, his statement was obviously aimed towards you, but you didn´t even look up.

“You know, Loki is…” Johnson lunged out to toss some kind of insult about Loki, but you interrupted his miserable try, without looking up.

“Detective Loki is fully capable of investigating this case and highly qualified, if I may add.”

You explained nonchalantly, then you finally looked up to stare into Johnsons angry eyes.

“But if you want to help so badly, you could bring us some coffee, please.” Your voice dripped bittersweetly, Loki couldn´t help but grin.

“I have some milk with it, you David?” Loki noticed how you had suddenly used his first name and he wasn´t used to the sound, yet…

“Black”, he answered and watched how Johnson left the office, angrily starring at him. He followed your order, after all you were sent by the FBI.

Your eyes faced the computer again, but you felt how Loki still starred at you.

“He doesn´t like it when somebody talks to him like that.”

“I don´t care what he likes.”

“You think I´m highly qualified?”

You stopped and glanced at him, the hint of a smile was still on his lips.

“You solved all of your cases, why shouldn´t I think so?” But then you offered him a smile as well.

“Don´t let it go to your head.”

***

Andy Williams had lied, he did have a date, but that ended at 8.30pm when he left the parking spot from the Italian restaurant, alone. You had found the tape of the security camera, which showed him driving away.

“8.30? Gives him enough time to drive to drive over to Browns house and kill him.” Loki thought out loud and you nodded in agreement. The rain was still pouring and the constant sound of the windscreen wiper calmed you down. You sat in his car again, eyeing Loki from the side and the star tattoo on his neck.

“Like what you see?”

You almost chocked and quickly faced the street again, Loki smirked.

“He didn’t wear a dog tag.”

Loki glanced over to you, now being serious again. “What?”

“Williams didn´t wear a dog tag from the military, I barely know anybody who doesn´t wear theirs.”

“Do you wear yours?”

You pulled the necklace out from your shirt and Loki looked at it for a few seconds. It was only a half.

“Where is the other half?”

You chuckled lowly.

“Broke off when the bullet hit me.”

“You were shot?”

You nodded, now looking out the window, avoiding his eyes.

“Yeah, almost died. The tag saved my life.”

He didn´t ask more, knowing well that there were some things not to talk about- at least not while he didn´t know you better.

 It was your turn to ring the bell, but even after waiting for some minutes, nobody answered. Loki already sighed annoyed; you rang the bell again, now longer.

“Mr. Williams, Detective Loki and Agent Y/l/n, we have a few more questions”, you explained loudly, but still nothing even moved inside the house.

Loki and you both drew your guns, exchanging looks. His eyes scanned your face, asking if you were ready and you were.

Loki looked down at the door and kicked it up, then he entered first. You followed him, aiming at the opposite’s direction, to ensure that you had all sides covered. Your back brushed against his, even though it was a good sign, showing you, he was there to have your back as well, it made your flesh crawl. A wave of warmth running through your body.

 All that you got

Skin to skin, oh my God

Don't you stop, boy

 “Mr. Williams?” Loki yelled, louder, deeper than you. Together you made your way through the house, until you entered the kitchen, nothing was yet suspicious.

Sadly, you heard the rumble from the separated chamber too late, Andy Williams aggressively pushed the door open, hitting you hard. You fell back and Andy jumped over the table to run through the back door.

“Go!” It was all you could get out, but even before, Loki was already on his tail. However, he had glanced down to check if you were okay.

Williams was fast, Loki wasn´t sure if he´d get him.

In the meantime, you pulled yourself together, and left the house through the front door. You felt how blood ran down from your nose and you swore to yourself for not having reacted faster.

Loki hunted him through backyards of various neighbors. It was until he climbed over a high wall, that Loki took a little longer to get over. When Williams wanted to turn the corner back to the main street, you jumped out. Loki just lunged down the stone wall, right next to the large dumpsters, when you threw you first punch at him. Your hand hit him at the throat and he heavily coughed. Williams was completely taken by surprise, but changed into fight mode. He tried boxing you several times, but you blocked them all. With the last punch you took his arm, twisting it and then throwing him over your shoulder.

He landed hard on his back and while he was still lying down, you used precise movements to quickly handcuff him. Loki drew his gun again. It was his luck that there was no time, otherwise you would have noticed the impressed look in his face. But you did notice it.

“Andy Williams, you´re under arrest.”

 Somethin' 'bout you makes me feel like a dangerous woman

Somethin' 'bout you

Makes me wanna do things that I shouldn't

Somethin' 'bout you

 ***

 A cooling pack landed in your lap and surprised you looked up to see Loki entering the office.

Your forehead had taken most of the door, which had hit you and even though it hurt like hell, it wouldn´t be more than a bump. The blood from your nose and your right eyebrow had stopped bleeding, having mostly dried. You were just rubbing it off.

To your surprise, David didn´t stop approaching until he leaned down to inspect your eyebrow. His thumb carefully brushed against your skin and you flinched.

Abruptly he took his hand back, just then realizing as well how close he had gotten.

“Doesn´t look like you need stitches”, he mumbled and sat back down at his desk. You only nodded, feeling a little stiff.

After a short break, you cleared your throat to change the topic.

“I went through his computer; Asian Porn. He downloaded it that evening and forgot to delete the history.”

“Is that an alibi?”

You shrugged. “Technically he could have driven home, started the download and then go to Brown´s.”

“Seems unlikely.” “But not impossible, we should interrogate him now.”

You wanted to stand up, but Loki shielded you from the door.

“You´re hurt.”

“I´m fine!” You exclaimed angrily.

“I´ll do it.”

You hated how stubborn Loki suddenly acted, but still you waited in the room on the other side. The one-sided mirror allowed you to watch Loki and a few machines to your left, recorded everything.

“Tell me, where were you that evening?” Loki asked as he walked around the table, where Andy sat handcuffed.

“You already know everything!” Andy Williams exclaimed loudly, the handcuffs ringing against the table. He was clearly panicking. Then Loki suddenly grabbed him by the collar. You gasped in surprise, you hadn´t expected Loki to become violent and it shocked you.

Without hesitating you hurried into the interrogation room and ripped the door open. Williams fell back on the chair, a fearful expression on his face and you angrily starred at Loki.

“Out!” You ordered Loki with a strict voice; he had gone too far!

“I was just-“, you stepped forward and didn´t even let him speak.

“Detective Loki, I order you to leave this room, now! Or the FBI will have no other choice than taking you off the case.” You warned him in a low voice and he huffed angrily, then storming out the room.

You turned towards Williams, a stressed smile on your lips.

“If you´d excuse my partner, he will no longer talk to you. Can I get you something to drink, water, coffee?” He almost smiled shyly, your presence obviously flustering him.

“Coffee please.”

 “What were you thinking?!” You entered the office you and Loki shared, but the thin walls allowed the entire station to listen.

“I was interrogating him!”

“You were threatening him with violence, which is a clear contempt against the law! This could cost your job!” David swallowed, not being able to return an answer or any eye contact.

He wasn´t used to somebody watching over his shoulder, he had lost control a few times in his former case, the dover case with the missing girls. Silent set in and Loki regretted his behavior more than ever, it was just like when he was a teenager and he left the station.

 ***

The next day a knock appeared on his door, he had fallen asleep on the couch. The smell of cigarettes lingered in the apartment, he felt like straight up shit.

When it was knocked for the third time, he finally opened the door, just to find you waiting.

His eyes widened in surprise and he remembered how terrible he must´ve looked, or smelled.

“What are you doing here?” His brows furrowed even more at your question.

“I could ask you them same”, he mumbled.

“I need a partner”, you finally admitted quietly, your eyes suddenly facing the ground.

“I thought you get me fired.”

“I thought so too, but there is a serial killer out there and I need a good detective at my side.”

 David couldn´t imagine what it taken for you to show up at his door. He knew now that he was on thin ice, but for some reason, it felt nice to have somebody at his side. Somebody keeping him at the right level, it was something almost nobody was able to do.

 Nothing to prove and I'm bulletproof and

Know what I'm doing

The way we're movin'

Like introducing us to a new thing

 You put down the coffee cup on his desk and Loki looked up with tired eyes. An entire week had passed in the meantime, and you hadn´t found any evidence that Andy Williams was the murder, so you had to let him go. You also hadn´t found any other hints or abnormalities, and no new corpse was found. It was a quiet and rather depressive week. No progress in any way.

“Thanks”, he muttered and the circles under his eyes seemed darker than ever. You knew he didn´t sleep enough, or eat enough. You had problems with it as well, it was all too understandable. It was now the sixth night in a row, where David and you were the last ones in the station besides the deputy for the night. Sighing exhausted, you closed the file which you had looked through for what seemed the hundredth time now, and starred at Loki.

“Wanna grab some dinner?”

Your question surprised him, even though you had eaten together few times together now. But never out; you had just sat at your desks, eating in silent, your eyes never leaving your notes.

“Sure, I know this Asian place?” He offered and you nodded while taking your coat as well.

“Sounds good to me.”

You had pushed through the rides between places with silence, but now you sat at the small Asian restaurant, it was just past eleven pm. And the restaurant was emptied.

You had avoided the eye contact for now, while Loki´s eyes hadn´t even left your body once.

“Why did they put you here?”

“Because I´m an Agent?”

“No, I mean why you? I´ve looked through your file, you could work at even higher cases.”

He was right, the FBI was just about to offer you a higher rank, giving you the opportunity to lead your own team. But something about that idea didn´t convince you.

“I don´t know, I´ve thought working for the FBI was good, but I kinda miss this.”

“This?” Loki sounded surprised, the thought that you could miss something like this startled him.

“What could a woman like you miss about this?” He asked and immediately realized how stupid the question sounded. But you interrupted in gentle laughter.

“A woman like me?” He shrugged. “You’re a successful soldier, agent, you even got a degree and all that stuff… You´re…”

“Dangerous. First and foremost, I am dangerous.” You explained and he furrowed his brows. “Those men, they fear women like me. They think we want to take over the control.” You chuckled again and Loki smiled as well. “I can imagine you taking over high roles, leading teams and shit.”

You shook your head, even though you had to admit he flattered you.

“Nah, it´s not really something for me. But I thought so in the beginning.”

“And now?” You shrugged. “I don´t know yet.”

Then the food came, you starred at the fried rice with big eyes.

“That looks amazing!” Loki laughed, something you hadn´t heard often. “Told you so.”

 When you walked back to the car, it was pouring again. Loki quickly stepped in front of you, opening the car door for you and his eyes glistening as he barely smiled at you. You smiled as well, brightly into the night, happy about the fact that the rain cooled your cheeks down. But then your smiled suddenly dropped, even before you sat in the car.

“Oh my god!” His smile faded as well and now he let down the jacket, he was using to shield from the rain. “What?”

“We only checked Andy, not the date he was with!”

“But he already explained that it was a rip off, he had met her online and she didn´t even bother to show up.”

“How do you know that for real?”

His mouth also slightly opened and you saw, how his mind started working. You jumped into the car, your finger brushing against his hand, which still laid on the top of the door.

 I wanna savor, save it for later

The taste, the flavor, 'cause I'm a taker, 'cause I'm a giver

It's only nature, I live for danger

  Serena Jackson, well that was the name that gave the computers from the face scan from her profile picture. An attractive young woman, last residence a few towns away. Luckily, the diner where Andy Williams was supposed to meet her, was opened 24/7, and they gave you the tapes.

Sadly, the video recorder didn´t have the entire diner on tape, a few dark corners were barely noticeable.

“There!”, you leaned closer as Loki paused the tape to lean forward as well. In one of the corners, which darkly laid in the back, sat a woman who could be Serena. A lonely corner table, also hidden by a large plant and the bad lighting. A large sweater, the hood pulled up and only a few strands of hair fell out. “Maybe, it´s not enough for an actual proof.” Loki admitted annoyed, he was right. The face wasn´t clear enough on the monochrome picture.

“We need to check her”, you sighed and your hand ran through your already messed up hair, it was late and the missing sleep was getting to you. Loki watched you in the dimmed light of the cube office, the rest of the station almost completely dark. He blinked a few times.

“We can check it out tomorrow”, he added and threw your coat into your arms. Surprised by his gesture but yet too tired to mention it, you left the station together.

When you reached the parking lot an awkward silence came up.

“I guess we´ll see each other tomorrow?”, you asked unsure and he nodded, not looking at you. You bit your lip, now glancing at the ground as well.

“Try to get some sleep, we´ll both work better then.” He cracked a weak smile and you let out a small laugh. Then you drove back to the motel, where you lived at the time.

 7am. and a call woke you up, still tired you reached for your phone next to the bed. The curtains were pulled close, no shutters. The motel was mostly empty, most of the people were there for work, just like you. The day before you had caught a young couple searching for some privacy, you had smiled at them, a nostalgic smile. They had something you always wished for; normalcy.

 “Yes?” “There´s another dead body!” You jumped off the bed and started fishing your clothes together. You knew you should be doing the laundry soon, and the thought of a nice shower made you jealous.

“Who is it?”

“It´s not officially approved, but by the looks of it; Serena Jackson.” You gasped and already put on your shoes. “Does Loki know?”

“Already called him, he´s on his way.”

 “We should have checked her yesterday”, you sounded annoyed and Loki knew you were right. It only made it worse that it was his suggestion to go home instead. But he also remembered the tired look in your matt eyes; now your eyes were burning furiously.

“We couldn´t have known what happened”, Loki muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.

He was right, but you couldn´t admit that. Not with the sight of a naked, dead woman right in front of you. And Loki accepted it.

 All that you got

Skin to skin, oh my God

Don't ya stop, boy

Somethin' 'bout you makes me feel like a dangerous woman

Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout you

Makes me wanna do things that I shouldn't

Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout you

 “There must be a connection, a motive!” You exclaimed more annoyed than ever.

“No common friends, family, hobbies.” Loki was seated back at his desk, his legs spread on the chair. He watched as you hurried up and down the office space, he was just as unsettled as you, but didn´t show it.

“But there must be something!”

“Need help now?” You clearly jumped at Johnsons sudden voice and your eyes angrily travelled down his body. Johnson was in his late 40ties, had light brown hair and dark eyes, wore his mustache with disgusting proud and strolled around with his beer belly. There was a certain look to him, not a bad one and it was somewhat imaginable that with a few charming pickup lines, women could fell for him. But something about him deeply disgusted you, you couldn´t really pinpoint it, but your stomach turning at his sight couldn´t be a good sign.

“Maybe you need a real man on this case.”

It was a clear insult towards you and Loki, and you snorted contemptible.  But you had to remain calm. At all costs.

You closed your eyes. Took a deep breath in. Counted.

After five breaths, you were somewhat calm. After another five you had left the station.

You hated the fact that the case wasn´t going as smoothly as hoped.

Maybe you could better work under someone´s watch, maybe going solo wasn´t for you after all.

Maybe you could focus better in another environment.

Maybe you could concentrate better if Loki wasn´t as attract…

“Goddammit!” You yelled out and the low stone wall next to the police station, where flowers were placed in the summer, earned a hard kick from your foot.

“Did it help?”

You hadn´t noticed how Loki had followed you and watched you now, trying to avoid the grin laying on his lips. You blushed and immediately kicked the wall again.

“I don´t think we´ll find the killer like that.”

“I don´t think we´ll find the killer if men continue to make stupid comments around here!”

You knew it was his try to make you feel better and you should appreciate it. You had obviously realized how David treated you differently. He remembered how you liked your coffee, how you were allergic to carrots, how you always took notes on everything that was laying around. But you always thought it was because you had threatened to get him fired.

But you needed some time alone now.

Without another word, or even look at him, you sat in the car and drove away. You were sure to feel bad for it later.

On the way to the freeway, you found an old bar. More sordid than anything else, where you could still smoke without any fire alarms. With an old billiard table and photos hanging on the walls.

At this time of day, it was almost empty, a few elderly men in the back, playing poker.

The bartender greeted you politely.

“What can I do for such a gorgeous lady?”

You eyed the liquor card, but then remembered your car outside and the pile of papers from the new corpse waiting for you.

“Just a coke please.”

Bartenders had the wonderful trait to read all of your problems with one look, in a way they were just therapists.

“Hard day?”

The ice cubes in your glass clinked as you took a sip.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“What is a lady like you doing in a town like this?”

You didn´t answer, instead you took the newspaper laying on the bar counter.

Third woman found dead, serial killer still on loose

“These are hard times”, the bartender added as he watched you read the article.

He was around sixty, long grey locks and a grey beard. He wore an armless leather jacket, on the back embroidery; 89 motor gang.

“I´m here for work”, you finally explained and closed the paper again.

“Work? Hm”, he hummed while taking out a few glasses from the dishwasher.

“Are you a cop?” “Is it that obvious?”

“No, not really. But rumors go around fairly quickly around here.”

“What rumors?” “About this female badass agent from the FBI and how Loki got an eye on her.”

“Detective Loki does not have an eye on me. We´re both professionals.”

“He and professional? He grew up in four different foster homes, that kid was everything but easy. It was his luck that the old sheriff saw something in him.”

Your eyes grew bigger as he talked, but then you leaned over the glass of coke again.

“There is a fourth body, if we don´t solve the case we´ll both be jobless soon.”

The bartender laughed, a light laugh, which echoed in the empty room.

“I´m pretty sure you´ll solve the case. Loki always solves his cases, no matter how hard they are and now after I met you, well you seem very capable of the situation.”

You gave him a weak smiled and put down a ten-dollar bill.

“Keep the rest.”

When you raised from the stool, to put on your jacket again, your eyes fell onto the wall with the pictures. They were made from a polaroid camera, not the new mock offs, the old originals. With monochrome filters in black and white, but they aged to a browner tone. Your finger traced one picture in particular.

“Is that?”

“Serena Jackson, yes. She worked here, almost two years ago before she moved away.”

“Why?”

Your eyes were still glued on the wall and slowly travelled along the pictures.

“There was a… incident. With a man.”

You turned back to the bartender. “What man?”

He shrugged and his eyes pointed back to the wall.

A few pictures away, hidden by newer ones, was a picture of Serena behind the counter. Next to her stood a man; Johnson.

“Were they in a relationship?”

“As far as I´m concerned they were on a couple dates, but Serena wasn´t sold. One evening, when she was working here, he arrived completely wasted. Screamed around how she had apparently cheated on him, I threw him out. Almost lost my ownership- it was ugly, but two weeks later she resigned.

“May I?” You gestured to the picture and after he nodded, you took it off the wall. Your eyes scanned the picture. Serena smiled widely into the camera, Johnson only glanced at her briefly.

In front of the bar, seated on the stool were two girls; the first two victims.

“Do you know these women?”

He shrugged. “They only came here once, or twice. But I can remember; after the fight with Johnson, Serena went onto the toilet and they went after her to comfort her.”

“Did they know each other?”

He shook his head. “No, they were here with different people.”

You already were back on your feet, ready to rush out the bar, when the bartender spoked up again.

“But… the first one, she grew up around here. And the second one was dumped a few days earlier, I remember how she told it Serena, that all men are idiots.”

“Thank you, thank you so much!”

  All girls wanna be like that

Bad girls underneath, like that

You know how I'm feeling inside

Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout

 “Where´s Loki?” You asked hectically, but the young, unexperienced deputy shook his head. He didn’t know. You stormed to your office cube, but he wasn´t there. Then you started searching your files, you needed prove that the women had contact to each other…

You couldn´t find anything, important files were missing. “Fuck!”, you exclaimed and grabbed your phone again. It was only his mailbox. “David? If you get this, call me immediately, I have a lead!” On a napkin from the Chinese food, you had ordered a few days ago, you write down Johnson´s name and laid it next to an empty coffee cup on Loki´s desk. You ran back to the station center. “Where is Johnson?” The deputy furrowed his eyebrows once again and shrugged. “We also wondered, he didn´t come to duty today, but maybe he was too long at the bar yesterday, it happens from time to time.”

“Shit, shit, shit!” You hurried out the station, only glancing down on your phone. David hadn´t called yet. Not it was up to you.

 You found Johnson´s house quickly and roughly parked in front of it, adrenalin rushing through your veins. When you reached his door, you already had the gun in your hands. You rang the bell.

“Johnson! Open up!”

No answer. And you didn´t have the patience anymore. The door was old, needed a paint job and at the second try, you had opened it. Starting to search the place. The dark floor smelled like cigarettes, in the kitchen and living room were empty beer bottles. On the coffee table in front of the beige, nidorous smelling couch, laid the files from your office. One moment of not paying attention, something hit your head and you fell to the ground. You robbed trying to get your gun, but Johnson kicked it away and his hands grabbed your throat from behind. You chocked, but then took an empty beer bottle to throw at his head. He fell to the side, which gave you the time to turn around and get up. With your feet you were able to kick his head once again to the side, so that he was thrown to the ground. The gun was too far by now. However, you jumped at him and threw several punches at his face. But then one of his hands grabbed your wrist and he banged his head against yours. You fell back bleeding and a blurry vision. Before realizing what was happening, he hovered again over you. You weren´t ready to give up just yet, but then a needle pinched your skin at your leg. He had giving you a poisonous injection. You wanted to scream or move, but a sudden tiredness over rolled you.

Your head fell back on the dusty wooden floor and everything turned black…

 All girls wanna be like that

Bad girls underneath, like that

You know how I'm feeling inside

Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout

 Loki on the other hand had gone home, but on the way, he met an old friend. Mrs. Dover just came home with her daughter from the grocery shopping. “Detective Loki!” She greeted him lightly and smiled. The now grown girl immediately hugged him around his waist. “Oh hey”, he greeted them rather awkwardly. Mrs. Dover had a tough time behind her and it was admirable, how she had regained normality. “How are you?” He asked politely and she nodded. “We´re good, it was hard, but we´re getting there with each day.” He nodded. “And you? How´s the case?” He scratched the back of his head. “Ehm it´s hard”, Mrs. Dover laughed. “I´m sure you´ll solve it, anyway have a partner now, right?” He couldn’t answer and blushed.

“Yeah, you know the rumors go around quickly here.” She took a break. “You should tell her, if you like her. It´s just some advice.” She smirked and then blinked at him.

He sat back in the car, wanting to drive back home. But the road took him somewhere else..

It was a lake, he had often spent time there in his late teenager days, but almost forget about it. He leaned against the car and just starred at the icy water; the trees slightly covered with first snow. It was beautiful and somehow, he wished, that you were there with him. He wanted to show you this sight, wanted to watch how your eyes grew big and how your smiled formed on your lips. But he was alone. Loki was unsure. He never felt like this before. First, he had thought it was just a simple crush, but it felt different now. The weeks and weeks of work, spent together. He knew you kept it professional, but always hoped to maybe to you out to dinner again.

Then his phone rang; three missed calls.

“Fuck!”

He had forgotten how bad the connection was when heading up to the road into the forest, where the lake was. “David? If you get this, call me immediately, I have a lead!” Then he pressed the call button, but you didn´t answer and he started rushing to the police station.

 Somethin' 'bout you makes me feel like a dangerous woman

Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout you

Makes me wanna do things that I shouldn't

Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout you

 You growled in pain, as yet another punch hit your stomach. “You just had to find out!” Johnson explained furiously. You sat tied up to a chair, your mouth covered by an old cloth. You had no idea where you were, it seemed like a basement like room, dark with no light. You had no gun and you were sure that Johnson had destroyed your phone. All you could do was hope for David.

“I didn´t expect much when Loki, that idiot took the case. I mean yeah, he´s okay, but I had all of my traces covered, I lead you right into the direction where I wanted you to go. But then you appeared and you worked oh so rigorously together, being quicker than expected. Brown had seen me, you know?” He walked through the room, feeling every moment of his plan that he showed you so carefully. He wanted you to understand, he was planning on killing you.

“He had seen me, so I had to get right of him. He should’ve been another victim, but you figured out that he was different. And then Serena…” He smiled and hovered over you again.

“Serena made all of this happen…” He began strolling again.

“You know, when she worked in that bar in those damn short skirts, damn, I couldn´t help- How could´ve I known that she´d get pregnant. That damn whore!” You couldn’t help but stare at him and listen in shock.

“I didn´t want that bastard, so I had to put an end to it. She lost the child, after some very unsuspicious pills that I put in her food.” He shrugged as if was nothing. Tears started forming in your eyes, you couldn´t made out why. The pain, the fact that the killer was always right in front of you, that he killed an unborn child.

“That´s when she started planning her revenge, with her new found friends she wanted to make me pay, but those girls had nothing one me. So, I decided to have my fun with, and now, four bodies later, no one knows what actually happened.” He started devilishly grinning. “And now there will be a fifth body…”

 Loki had found the napkin and after several tries to contact you, he had taken an armed squad to Johnsons house, but neither he nor you were to be found. There were no signs of the fight anymore, not even the car you had parked was there anymore. He knew the time was running now, he had to find you, alive. The sheriff sighed. “Loki, if it´s actually him, we have no actual, the files are gone and as long as we don´t find Y/n, we have nothing.”

“He has her! And he´ll kill her! If we don´t find her, she´ll be dead and Johnson will be gone!” He screamed and the entire squad flinched.  The sheriff remained calm on the other hand. “But we don´t know where he is, he couldn´t be anywhere.” He didn´t yet fully trust Loki that it was Johnson. He had been working at the station for twenty years, he was a good officer, just a bit lazy and old-fashioned, right?

Loki started walking up and down, until his eyes caught the fishing rod. Johnson used to go fishing a lot in the summer, and he remembered that he said something a cabin, close to the lake. It was a perfect hideout.

 All girls wanna be like that

Bad girls underneath like that

You know how I'm feeling inside

Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout

 There were many situations, where you had faced death. But this one was by far the scariest. You just wished and begged for Loki to find you. All you wanted was for him to storm through the damn door. “You know the amount of poison wasn´t enough, sadly. I hadn´t planned to kill you so soon, but that´s okay now. I´ll be gone soon anyway. Mexico, a nice little hut, a good life.”

You were tired, the feeling of the poison was still inside your system, bruises covered your body. There was probably some kind of broken rip, at least it felt like that. But then you heard something and tears started rolling down your cheeks, car tires on the rough ground.

You tried to scream, but the cloth prevented you from doing so, which didn´t stop you know. You tried everything to be as loud as possibly. Johnsons eyes widened. He took a shotgun from the wall and took a staircase up, leaving you alone. It was now or never. There was a table, with your patch, a few empty needles and other tools on it. You took all of your strength and started hoping into the direction of the table. Then shots were fired, it echoed as they came from both sides. But you didn´t stop. When you reached the table, you threw yourself at it with all you had. The table as well as the chair with you on it fell to the ground. Something in your body made a deep crack, when landing on your shoulder and you continued to groan in pain. But a fishing rod had falling off the wall, and landed above you, the hock dangling right for your fingers to grab it. It took several minutes until you were able to cut through the ropes. More shots had been fired on the meantime. Then they suddenly stopped.

“Stop”, it was Johnsons voice. “If you continue, I´ll kill her!”

It was his back up plan, and he knew that Loki would do anything to keep you alive.

But as the silence settled on the floor above you, you were able to completely free yourself and grab your gun. Your steps were weak, the poison still trying to kill you, but you had to get up the stairs. It was at the end of the hall, Johnson was barricaded on the terrace, you saw members of an armed unit outside. Then you saw a figure in the far stepping from the squad, his hands in the air. It was all so blurry and you felt dizzy, but you were sure that it was Loki. He had come.

“Ok, let her go!” You heard his voice, but you didn´t plan on letting Johnson get away.

You stumbled your last steps though the door and outside and fired a last shot at Johnson. Loki had his gun ready and fired two shots right after you. Johnson fell on the ground and several officers immediately approached him and unarmed him. But you barely noticed them, you just stumbled down the few steps of the terrace and collapsed. It was you luck that Loki had ran to you and caught you just in time.

“Y/n? Can you hear?” His voice was so far, and his close face was so blurry. You couldn´t answer and everything became dark…

 All girls wanna be like that

Bad girls underneath like that

You know how I'm feeling inside

Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout

 You awoke in a hospital; the sun was shining through the curtains. Your eyes scanned the ceiling, then the rest of the environment. Light furniture, a tv hanging on the wall. Then to your left a small table with flowers on it. On a simple armchair was David, his eyes closed as well. You looked so peaceful and you smiled. Just then he opened his eyes as well and immediately stormed to your side. “Y/n! How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

You chuckled and even though, everything hurt, you nodded. “I´m fine.” Loki sighed relieved.

“You found me”, you continued and your voice sounded rough. “Yeah, you had left me a single hint. Johnson´s under arrest, all we need is your statement.” You smiled.

“You solved the case”, he added and you softly nodded. “It was really by accident.” “But you did, it´s all that matters and even without me.” “I couldn´t have done it without you.” He couldn´t help but smile as well.

 Yeah, there's somethin' 'bout you boy

Yeah, there's somethin' 'bout you boy

 “There will be soon a new position for you offered now.” You should have been happy, but you just shook your head. “I won´t take it.” David´s brows furrowed.  “Why?”

You smiled and grabbed his collar to pull him down. He didn´t resist and laid his lips on yours. The sound of the sheriff clearing his throat, interrupted your kiss.

“Agent Y/L/N, good to see you awake.” He nodded and Loki wanted to straighten up, but you took his hand and held him next to you. “Feels good as well.” You smiled; David blushed.  The sheriff shrugged. “Take your time, get back on your feet, then we can talk. And you Loki”, he pointed at Loki with a serious face. “Take good care of her.”

“I will”.

[boat-dock]

“Knowing You is for the Better” chapter 8

just Hope being soft for Josie the entire time

They spent the whole weekend exploring the city, Hope took them through her favorite places, restaurants, shops, and even the clock tower where her aunt Freya set up all her witch things. Hope had missed her friends exponentially, even as the weekend game to a close she wished they could stay longer. After an entire day in the bayou, on the river with Ava and Logan and a bonfire that night, the girls all piled up in Hope’s family room to stay up late watching movies. 

After gorging themselves with popcorn and candies, they finally called it a night and went slowly to their respective rooms. Hope, however, still wasn’t ready to sleep. Instead, she pulled countless books off her shelves to read a few pages then left them discarded all over her room. Slowly her attention shifted to her art, she got her sketchbook and began idly drawing, trying to calm her brain. Time crawled past until the moon was high and the city's nightlife was in full swing.

She’s snapped out of her head, by a knock on her door, after checking the clock she opens the door to see Josie on the other side.

“Hey sorry I hope I didn’t wake you,” Josie said shyly as she welcomed her into her room. Josie glanced around, taking in everything she saw. Hope’s room was a mess and her cheeks reddened slightly as she tried to tidy subtly. 

“No, not at all,” she said, “I wasn’t sleeping, were you?” she asked, taking a seat on her bed. 

“Lizzie was and I didn’t want to wake her so I figured I’d come bother you,” Josie jokes, poking Hope in the side, causing her to laugh. 

“You’re never a bother Jo, you know that,” 

Josie blushed and went back to looking around the room. Her eyes landed on Hope’s paintings all piled in the corner. There was a half-finished one on the easel that was a swirl of colors, and if Josie squinted her eyes, she could imagine they were flowers. She started sorting through the various paintings leaned against the wall. She lands on one that is a nighttime view of New Orleans, Josie sighed,” I wish I could see the world the way you do Hope,” she said absentmindedly, enthralled by the painting. 

“That’s one of my favorites,” Hope replied smiling before taking Josie’s hand and leading her away, through the door and out onto the balcony. “Come on let me show you something.” 

The city sprawled out around them, in a haze of noise and light, despite all the crazy people, Hope smiled as she watched everything. “Wow,” was all Josie could say,” It’s beautiful out here.” 

“Wait till you see this,” Hope said, bouncing and pulling her toward the corner of the balcony, where a trellis was attached to the wall. Hope started climbing without even thinking, she’d made this journey hundreds of times since she was a little girl. It took her a moment to realize that Josie wasn’t following her up, she stood back with wide eyes and an exasperated look. 

“You want me to climb up there?” she asked, eyeing the trellis and the roof that it led to,  ”No way,” 

An idea came to Hope and she acted without before she could second guess herself. Using her vampire speed she grabbed the siphoner and got them to her favorite spot on the roof in seconds. Josie yelped and grabbed onto her tightly when she saw where she was. Jose’s fear of heights was new to Hope, but she found it endearing. They sat down slowly and after a moment she calmed down, releasing Hope, but still staying close enough that if she fell Hope could catch her. 

“Does this look familiar?” Hope asked motioning toward the city beneath them. This was the scene that she painted, it had taken so many attempts to capture it the way she wanted, but she was finally happy with the way it turned out.

“It’s your painting,” Josie realized, relaxing slightly, she watched the city for a while, but Hope just watched her. She could see Josie straining to take in everything, she would smile at the shouting people below swaying to the never-ending music of the city. 

In an instant, Josie’s whole mood changed, her dark eyes turned sad and glassy, Hope felt like she could drown in them. “There’s so much out there to see,” she said quietly, almost like she was talking to herself,” I don’t want to die before I can see it,” Hope’s heart cracked and in that moment she would have given anything to erase the sadness from the younger girl's face.  

Between Malivore and the prison world and turning, Hope hadn’t focused on the merge like she should have. It was a major piece of the twins’ life, it quite literally determined which one of them would live and which one would die. The thought of losing one of them filled her with dread, she’d lost too many people already and she was not about to add the twins to that list.

“When we figure all of this out and stop the merge,” Hope started, determined to make her friend feel better,” I’ll take you anywhere in the world you want to go, you just have to give us some time,” 

Josie laughed bitterly,” my parents have had 16 years to solve this and they haven’t gotten anywhere,” 

“Well, they didn’t have me,” Hope replied. Josie was tense, Hope could tell that there was something more on her mind, that she wasn’t sharing. She just didn’t know how to get her to open up. “What’s on your mind?” maybe all she had to do was ask. 

“I’ve got an idea,” she said slowly like she wasn’t sure exactly how to say this,” my parents will hate it, so I can’t tell them, but maybe you and I can work on it together,” Hope waited patiently for her to continue and when she did it was like she moved backward 3 steps,” I learned about this women, her name is Valerie Tulle, she’s an old member of the Gemini coven and she survived when everyone else died.”

“How?” Hope asked, leaning forward slightly. 

“She’s a heretic,” she whispered and Hope realized exactly what she was alluding to, she must’ve made a distressed noise because Josie turned to her with a renewed zeal and started explaining her plan,” Look if you turn me we can stop all of this, I won’t be able to merge with Lizzie and this can finally be over,” 

Hope couldn’t shoot the idea down, because it was better than any idea that she had, which was none, but that didn’t mean that she had to agree to help her,” You’re right that’s an option,” she said, dancing lightly around her words.

Josie deflated next to her, “You won’t do it,” she said, reading Hope like a book. 

“Answer me this, do you really want to be 16 years-old forever?” she asked, nudging her shoulder. 

“Better that than being dead,” 

“How about a compromise,” Hope suggested, which was met with a confused look,” you come back to me when you’re 21 and if we don’t have this figured out by then then we’ll talk about it, deal?” she asked.

“Vampire at 21 and seeing the world at 22, what a life,” Hope took that as confirmation. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company. Josie shivered next to her, goosebumps forming along her arms. It was a chilly night, but Hope didn’t even notice, she never felt the cold. She moved closer to her friend silently offering up her heat, which Josie happily accepted. She leaned her head on Hope’s shoulder, finally feeling the drowsiness that should have claimed her hours ago, she started talking about whatever came to her mind,” You know when Lizzie and I first got to the city we went to this little cafe and after you sent us that note, which I still haven’t figured out how you did by the way,” she laughed,” we asked them if they knew you and where we could find you and they sent us the parade but they also said that everyone in the city knew who you were,” 

“You talked to Benny and Ms. Sheila,” Hope answered smiling,” they’re friends of mine,” she wasn’t exactly sure where the brunette was going with the conversation so she decided to just talk,” and they’re right, my family basically built this city. Once my family was treated like royalty, my dad used to tell me that that made me a princess. We’ve won wars and lost them here and more than a few of them were fought over me, so yeah for better or worse they know who I am,” she knew she was rambling, but it was nice to talk about this, so any people didn’t want to know a thing about her family, they would rather just pretend Hope was normal. 

“I think knowing you is for the better Hope Mikaelson,” Josie said softly. Hope’s entire body tensed with emotion, her throat closed and she found herself unable to speak. 

Josie always managed to surprise her, in the best ways,” you once asked me why I liked you,” she choked out, struggling to put her feelings into words. Josie sat upright, shocked by her words,” You are so kind Josie, genuinely kind, do you know how many people have been genuinely kind to me in my life. I’ll get you a hint it’s not very many, but you, you say things just like that without even think, and I shatter into a million pieces,” 

She couldn’t meet Josie’s eyes, she’s not sure what would happen if she did. Every star could simultaneously fall from the sky and she wouldn’t notice. “You’re a nice person to Hope,” Josie said, with an earth shattering smile,” you saved uncle Matt's life and you’re still friends with Roman after everything that happened,” Hope had a feeling that she would keep listing things if she didn’t cut her off.

“Being forgiving isn’t the same as being kind,” Hope pushed back. The clock chimed once in the distance, loud and clear, breaking through the drunken noises below them.”come on you should get some rest, you have a long day of travel tomorrow,” 

Josie’s face contorted at the thought of having to climb her way off the roof,” can you just vamp us down please,” Hope chuckled and grabbed Josie’s waste, the younger girl squeezed her eyes shut and when she opened them they were back on the balcony. Only slightly disoriented they went back into Hope’s room. 

“Do we really have to go back home tomorrow?” Josie whined, swinging her arms. 

If it were up to Hope she would let the twins stay forever, but sadly their parents had other ideas,” I barely talked your dad into letting you stay this long,” Hope laughed,” any longer he might come down here and drag you back himself,” 

Josie stopped a ways from the door before turning back to face Hope, she was wringing her hands together like she was nervous,” do you think I could crash here tonight, I don’t want to wake Lizzie up, you know how cranky she can get.”

For the first time Hope noticed the dark circles under the younger girls eyes,” yeah of course,” Hope replied, pulling the covers back.  

As they crawled into bed Josie spoke up again,” When are you going to come back to school Hope?”

Hope had been wondering the same thing herself. As much as she loved it here with her family, she was actually hoping to graduate on time, and it was much harder to focus on schoolwork here than it was there. “Nik’s birthday is next weekend, I think i’ll come back after that,” 

Josie grinned. Hope ignored it when she heard her heartbeat speed up as they settled into bed, and when they awoke early the next morning entangled with each other, Hope ignored that too.