#malcolm bright one shot

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The Prodigal Son Collection

The Collections

I do not permit anyone to copy, repost, and/or share my work anywhere. However, please feel free to like, comment, and reblog!

All rights to the media and characters below belong to the original creators and writers.

Hum Me Something Soothing (Malcolm Bright x GN!Reader) ⊹ When Malcolm's night terrors reveal themselves at the office, you're there to guide them away.

I'll Watch Over You (Malcolm Bright x GN!Caregiver!Reader) ⊹ You're young Malcolm and Ainsley's caregiver when the Whitly's are away. And you can't help feeling protective over the boy who's taken a liking to you.

Little Parts (Malcolm Bright x Fem!Reader) ⊹ With a serial killer on the loose, you join Gil and his team to try and apprehend her, growing closer to a certain consultant in the process. When you're put in harms way, Malcolm does everything he can to save you.

So Be It (Malcolm Bright x GN!Reader) ⊹ Taking care of a sick Malcolm is no simple task, but with everything you've been through together, there's no place you'd rather be. In his moment of vulnerability, he opens up like never before.

Sunny Side (Malcolm Bright x GN!Reader) ⊹ Malcolm tries to surprise you with breakfast, and it may not go so well.

To Make It Through (Malcolm Bright x GN!Reader) ⊹ It's all been hitting you hard. Sometimes it's all just so exhausting. Malcolm sees the signs, and he wants you to know he'll always be there.

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[ape-apocalypse]

Road To The Kingdom - Prelude and Contagion Comics

This post will focus on two short comics that were published around the first reboot film, Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes.

The first is a prelude comic with a story that the writers (Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver) and director (Rupert Wyatt) always had in their minds for the film but had to be cut for time (they mention this in the DVD commentary and in interviews). Knowing how passionate they were about this piece of backstory for Caesar's origin, I'm very glad it was given life in this comic. It expands on the capture of Caesar's mother and her time in the GEN-SYS labs, scenes that are featured briefly in the opening of the film. 

Director Wyatt and the writers have all said they thought it was important to show this backstory of Caesar's parents to demonstrate that, even prior to the drug that enhanced him as an unborn baby, his parents were above average apes. The comic shows a group of poachers following a troop of chimps, intent on capturing them to sell to laboratories for testing. Alpha, Caesar's father, is more intelligent than a regular chimpanzee, demonstrated in how he outsmarts the humans to keep his apes safe. He even lures them into a trap in order to kill several of them. 

Likewise Caesar's mother, Bright Eyes... who is named Bright Eyes in the comic for her rare blue eyes which doesn't make sense since she was named that in the lab for the changed eyes Will's drug gives her and also she doesn't even have blue eyes in the opening scene of the movie but that's just bad continuity, I guess... Anyway, Bright Eyes is shown to be exceedingly compassionate to her troop, ensuring no one gets left behind as they flee the poachers and fiercely defending Alpha. Though it is very brief, it is nice to see the united front of Alpha and Bright Eyes that make up Caesar. Human drugs may have given him true intelligence, but Caesar's determination, loyalty, and compassion all came from his parents.

The rest of the comic arc shows Bright Eyes' time in the lab prior to giving birth. We see her intelligence grow to the point that she is able to escape from the lab on her own and return when she realizes she's far from her jungle home. There's a story of another lab ape named Burke who gets smart but decides to hide it, so he's retired to a sanctuary as a failed experiment and starts to plan his own escape. It's interesting to see the progression of the drug and its effect on the apes but the best part is getting to know Bright Eyes a bit better than her brief time in the film. 

Shifting to Contagion, it is even shorter than the prelude comic as it was a one-shot set between Rise and Dawn. The focus of the comic is Ellie, the human in Dawn who is the love interest of Malcolm and the nurse who heals Cornelia. Her backstory is briefly mentioned in the movie but it is fleshed out here. We're shown the death of her daughter, Sarah, during the Simian Flu outbreak and her time with the CDC trying to find a vaccine. She ends up escaping the destruction of her lab with the help of a test chimp and the two go their separate ways (which makes me think an interesting story in this universe would be a human and an intelligent ape who actually successfully survive together but I guess that's what fanfics are for). Though very fast paced, that is the nature of a short one-shot comic. It does probably set the feeling of losing your daughter as the world falls apart around you, all happening in a very quick blur. Her time spent with the test apes and her rescue by the chimp Betty show her gentle nature that will have her seeking peace with Caesar's apes in the coming film. 

Though these comics are short compared to the longer arcs that will be featured later, I like these stories for their background on two female characters, Bright Eyes and Ellie. While the original films had Zira as a main lead character, the female characters in the reboot series definitely suffer from being primarily love interests to the lead characters and not having much to do in the films. So it is nice to let Ellie and Bright Eyes have comic book expansions of their characters. Both of these stories have been hard to find in the past, as the prelude was online promotion for Rise that seems to be gone from the Net and Contagion was a San Diego Comic Con 2014 exclusive. However, they can now be found in the Planet of the Apes comic omnibus entitled After The Fall.

Intro / Previous / Next

[apinchofm]

Fic Rec Friday

Dear Reader by @dreamstone28737

such a sweet and beautiful story about female relationships and family. in which kate looks for her mother's past and finds comfort in her present 💐 g, modern au, part of a series!

red wine supernova by im_just_better_fictionally

the beginning of eloise and marina's situationship!! e, one shot, modern au

i carry your heart by @morningssofgold

prodigal son was such a fave and this fic where malcolm and dani are living their life is so cute!! g, family fluff and growth.

The Future's Bright ... Dazzling by aRegularJo

in which edwina is a tennis player, in love with a prince, wanting to be the best and under pressure in so many ways. another fic from a brilliant writer! t, modern au, wimbledon and royalty (two things i usually hate but not in this fic lol)

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags, @carlos-in-glasses @lemonlyman-dotcom @lightningboltreader 🥰

This is for my TK has a little sister fic-

2013-

“IT’S GOING DOWN I’M YELLING TIMBER YOU BETTER MOVE YOU BETTER DANCE”

As the vocals in the song blasting above his head changed from Ke$ha’a to Pitbull’s, TK took the shot from Malcolm and downed it in one swallow. TK wasn’t sure if it was his third shot or his fourth — but he didn’t feel affected by them at all. He felt good. I knew Dad was wrong, TK told himself. I do too know my own limits. I can’t handle pills, and I’m not taking the pills. But social drinking isn’t the same. It’s being social. It’d be weirder if I didn’t. I can totally handle it. TK turned to join Malcolm and felt a little woozy.

Okay, so that last shot was probably his fourth. But that didn’t matter; the man that TK had been sleeping with for over a year had finally agreed to be seen with him in public. And he was in a club on New Years’ Eve; TK had been waiting for this his whole life.

TK stood up on his toes to kiss Malcolm. Malcolm wrapped his arms around TK and squeezed TK’s body against his own. This from the same guy who would swear up and down he didn’t know TK if their paths crossed out in the open. For a moment, TK was worried he was really drunk, or imagining all this.

“Thank you,” TK shouted to be heard above the music. “For getting me in”.

“You got it”. Malcolm grinned and TK noticed how bright his teeth looked under the lights. Malcolm’s long blonde hair had fallen perfectly over his shoulders, making it look like he had a halo.

“Another?” Malcolm said, gesturing towards the bar. Tk only hesitated for a brief second before he nodded.

This time, he went with Malcolm to get the drinks; the last two Malcolm had given him, TK had no idea what they were.

“Here”. Malcolm handed another shot to TK. “This will make you feel like you got shot in the tongue”.

“Cool”. TK laughed. “Being twenty sucks. I wish I could get into a place like this on my own”.

“You’re far from the youngest person in here,” Malcolm called. He pointed to a couple who were weaving through the crowd and stopped at the bar. “Miss trying-too-hard with those hooker boots,” Malcolm said. “Way younger than you. Probably still in high school”.

“Well, that’s judgey”. TK rolled his eyes. “My sister has boots like that”. Though TK didn’t know if she had them anymore, though. Lorraine had given them to her, and had sent his mother into a what-could-that-woman-possibly-be-thinking-who-gives-boots-like-this-to-a-teenager tirade. His dad and Lorraine had been married for five months, and TK had yet to hear his mother refer to Lorraine as anything other than “that woman” (usually in the context of “who does THAT WOMAN think she is!”)

“Ah, shit”. TK heard Malcolm say as the song playing ended.

“What?” TK asked.

“I think I saw one of the kids who works with my dad,” Malcolm replied. TK saw the familiar expression of alarm wash over Malcolm’s face. “I’m gonna lay low,” he told TK. “Stay here. I’ll be back”. With that, he turned and was making his way through the crowd.

“Really?” TK said, mostly to himself. He had hoped they could have a little more than forty minutes at the club together before Malcolm freaked out.

TK edged closer to the bar and put the shot on the counter. Besides the fact that he wasn’t super pleased with Malcolm right now, it looked kind of like blood.

TK looked around, his mood a little bit more sour than it was a few minutes ago. The woman who had boots like his sister’s was at the other end of the bar, doing a shot. If she hadn’t been standing underneath the strobe lights, TK wouldn’t have noticed.

If his…. Whatever it was that he and Malcolm were to each other, he wouldn’t have noticed.

But while looking for something else to distract him, TK realized with horror that this girl had a lot more in common with his sister than just the boots.

TK pushed through the other people at the bar until he was closer and then he shouted, “SOPHIE!” His sister turned around and saw him. She looked exactly as surprised as he felt.

“TK?” she said as the music got loud again. “What are you doing here?”

“Me?” TK shouted back. “What are you doing here?” He grabbed his sister’s wrist and started dragging her through the crowd towards the coat room area. Now he was really glad he hadn’t taken that last shot; he was having enough trouble with the situation as it was.

“Okay, enough”. Sophie said loudly, even though now the hallway they were in was a lot quieter. ���TK, you are not supposed to be here. You’re only twenty”.

“You… I’m…” TK started a few sentences but didn’t finish them. “You’re fourteen! And you…” TK hadn’t really stopped to look at his sister, who in addition to the six-inch boots, had on a sleeveless silver top covered in sequins and very short black shorts on. “Why do you like… not have clothes on?” He asked. “It’s eighteen degrees outside!”

“God, you’re turning into Dad,” Sophie groaned.

“Don’t start,” TK pointed his finger at her. “How did you even get in? Where does Mom think you are?”

“At a sleepover”. Sophie said, hands on her hips. “Where does Dad think you are? You’re supposed to be sober”.

“I am sober!” TK exclaimed, emphasizing the last word by stomping his foot. “I haven’t even thought about taking pills even once. Having a few drinks doesn’t count”.

No pressure tags - @dreamingofmickeywaffles @rachelsversion1 @firstprince-history-huh @reyestrandd @tailoredshirt @sugdenlovesdingle and anyone else who wants to do it 🫶

[smalls-words]

Chapter Eight: Palmetto

Summary: Natasha experiences jealousy, Palmetto reveals it's darkest secret, and your questioning your sexuality. What the fuck happened?

Pairings: Devil!Natasha x Fem!Detective!Reader, Natasha x Wanda, Reader x Steve (exes, co-parents), Yelena x Natasha (sisters).

Warnings: Mentions/attempt of suicide, knives, jealousy, sexual suggestion (is there ever going to be a chapter without it? probably not). Read at your own discretion.

A/N: WHO SHOT MALCOLM? :o find out in this chapter along with some other bombshells, cheeky.

Series Masterlist

*not my gif*

Lux was pumping with people as Natasha walked through it, a stunning satin blue dress reflecting light to show off the entire dark to light range of the shade. She cheered on many drinks with her patrons, even taunting some of them with a playful smack and grab of the ass or a fleeting touch on their back.

But her favourite demon came up to the bar dressed in a stunning gold dress, held against her body to show it off. Messy hair made Natasha grin, knowing that a few hands had given the demon what she wanted.

“Wanda! You haven't wished me a happy birthday.” Natasha grinned as Wanda stood in front of her, drink in hand.

“The Devil doesn't have a birthday.” 

“Well, I do now. I burned my wings, I feel reborn - it's my re-birthday party.” She chuckled.

“Reborn? As who?” The brunette snickered.

“Whoever the hell I want to be. It's exciting, isn't it?” She took a deep breath in as she examined her party.

Your ruby red lips catching her eyes instantly. 

“Happy birthday to me.” Natasha giggled to herself, letting Wanda lean into her ear. 

“How sweet. She brought a date.” She smirked before leaving, watching Natasha’s eyes fly to see Steve before your laughter made her come back. 

“You said ‘drinks with a few friends’, you liar.” You teased. 

Natasha admired the black suit against your body - of course, if she really desired, she could go back up and change into a matching one. She also wondered what hers would look like on you, giving her a hot flash over her body before she smirked.

“Well, you know, things got out of hand. Just the way I like it.” 

“We brought you a birthday gift.” Steve spoke suddenly as you poured some shots, holding a jar of bright green liquid. 

“Is that the royal ‘we’?” She asked.

“Whiskey with a pickle juice chaser. It's our station's birthday tradition.” You took the jar of pickle juice chaser and poured shots for all of you.

Her nose scrunched in disgust. “Lovely! How can I refuse? Can I refuse?” 

Steve snickered at her antics. “Of course you can. And we'll always think less of you.” 

You handed Natasha her shot glasses, whiskey in the left and pickle juice in the right before you lifted yours. “Here's to another trip around the sun.” 

“Cheers.” She clinked her glasses with yours, watching you down the liquor and chaser with skill. 

You smirked at her surprise expression, looking between the whiskey and pickle juice. “It's not bad, is it?” You asked. 

“Briny! Let's find Wanda. She needs to try this bizarre concoction. She loves a salty aftertaste.” Natasha smirked at you, watching you shake your head in both laughter and disgust at her innuendo and dismay. 

“I’m sorry, we're just stopping by. We have a department thing to go to.” 

“Some of us work for a living.” Steve remarked.

“Well, that's your bad luck, isn't it? Come on, the party's barely started.” Natasha whined at you, watching you come towards her in a hug. 

She leaned down slightly to hold you in the embrace whilst you went on your tippy toes. “Happy birthday, Natasha.” You murmured in her ear, kissing her cheek as you stepped back.

“Thank you, malyshka.” She replied.

Steve placed his hand on your back and led you out of the club, yet you were comforted by Natasha’s gaze on you until you were outside. You sank into the passenger seat of the car as Steve drove to the Paddock Lounge, almost the entire precinct inside. 

“Are you sure you want to be here?” Steve asked. 

“We can't be the only ones missing Malcolm's welcome back party. If we want to find a dirty cop, we have to look like team players.” You replied.

“Y/N Valeria!” A voice came from the crowd.

“Here we go.” You grumbled to yourself, turning around. 

You easily recognised the man in the wheelchair as Malcolm Graham, his thick moustache clashing with his thin beard, the off-set parting of his dark auburn hair matching the colour of his facial hair. “You and I need to talk.” He remarked.

The bar went quiet. 

“Sure, Malcolm.” 

He pointed at Steve. “You back with this guy? Hmm? How-how, how long was I out? What, you get the sense knocked out of you, Valeria?” 

“We're just, we're just, uh…” 

Malcolm laughed at Steve’s attempt to ease the tension. “Just relax, guys. I'm just… just giving you a hard time.”

The rest of the bar went back to their business, some even laughing at his first joke. 

“You finally got your sense of humour back, huh?” Steve snickered. 

“Yeah, he's healing fast. Doc said he should be able to get rid of this chair in a couple days.” Paolucci patted Malcolm on the back.

You watched Malcolm groan as he stood from his wheelchair, guessing it was an aid rather than a necessity. “You tired of pushing me around, Paolucci?” 

The partner chuckled. “Look at that, huh? The partner who will not die. Guess Heaven didn't want him and Hell couldn't keep him.” 

The four of you laughed at Paolucci’s joke, Malcolm’s eyes meeting your own. “You got no idea.” 

At his wink, you tilted your head slightly. Could he know about…?

Nah…

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“So I, I may have been... out of line last time I was here. But I did send flowers. And chocolates. And now myself, so, save the best gift till last.” Natasha chuckled nervously as she sat across from Kate. 

The therapist wore a simple long sleeve with her trench coat draped over the chair behind her desk, her legs crossed in their jeans. She simply watched Natasha as her nerves played up, hands fidgeting and humour anxious. 

“Not enough? No? You can invite a friend.” 

“Why did you think I'd be mad? Was it because of this?” Kate stood, walking over to the wall to take a painting off, revealing the patchwork of the hole Natasha punched. 

“I've found women, generally, don't like a person punching holes in things, yes.” The redhead smiled sheepishly.

“Natasha, our last session was a breakthrough.” The doctor sat back down in her chair. 

“It was?” 

She nodded. “You're finally getting in touch with your emotions. Letting your barriers down.” 

Natasha leaned forward. “You see, that's part of the problem. I'd like them back up, thank you.”

“Why?” 

“Well, because these emotions are… really inconvenient, that's why.” 

“What's bothering you right now?” 

“Well… As of late, I'm experiencing a very odd feeling. It's-it's like a... it's like a fat man sitting on my chest. But not in a fun way.” She stammered along, smirking at the end.

“And when is that happening?” 

“Well, um…” 

“When you're with the detective?” Kate asked.

“Yes. Well, actually, lately, when she's been with Steve. Her ex. Well, sort of. Uh... I don't know what she sees in that oaf.” Natasha clarified.

Kate chuckled. “Natasha… you're jealous.” 

Natasha scoffed. “The Devil doesn't get jealous. I'm the one who inspires passion in others. I mean… you know that.” 

“Mm, don't I ever.” 

“Thank you. That's the appropriate response.” The devil thought for a moment, a light bulb going off. “Hold on, maybe it's not me. Maybe it's her.” Another light bulb. “You could fix the detective!”

“And how would I do that?” Kate sighed in defeat, knowing she couldn’t take Natasha off of this pathway even if she tried.

“Well, heal her douche fixation, obviously. Then she stays away from her ex, and then I get my partner back.” She smiled proudly. 

The therapist sighed. “Natasha. That's not how therapy works. We deal with your issues. Not someone else's.” 

Natasha scoffed, grumpy until she got a text from you.

Malyshka

-come here-

-dropped pin-

“Well, see ya next time, Katie.” Natasha blew her a kiss before walking out of the door.

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Natasha walked through the building to find the dead body surrounded by police. “Oh, dear! Someone's session went poorly.” 

“Mm. Thanks for gracing us with your presence.” 

Natasha looked over your tired form, a stripey black and white t-shirt covered by a beige trench coat, black jeans held up by your belt consisting of your gun and badge. 

She smirked. “Yes, I had a previous engagement. Therapy twice in one day - so LA of me.” 

“Dr. Bernie Shaw. Killed last night. No forced entry. Killer most likely knew the vic. The weapon was improvised. Seems like a crime of passion.” You reported to her, having already analysed the crime scene.

“Right. Yeah. Have you ever seen a therapist?”

You looked at Natasha incredulously at her random and slightly intruding question. 

“You know, for your pent-up anger and your trust issues. And your attraction to very dull men.” She clarified.

“Let's just focus on the case, shall we?” You offered her a department-issued Surface tablet, a website already up.

“Well, I will, once it's interesting.” Natasha took it, looking at it with one glance before her eyes lit up and she looked back. “Oh! It is interesting. ‘The Cheater Therapist’?”

“Yeah, he encouraged couples to cheat to save their marriages. You can imagine how many people want to kill him.” You sighed, shaking your head.

“I can't, actually. Sounds like a great idea.” 

“You don't save a marriage by sleeping with other people.” 

“It can't hurt to try.” 

“Pretty sure it can.” You stepped past the redhead, leading her to follow you out to a seating room where a man and a woman.

“That's the wife Alexandra. She was out of town and just got back to find her husband dead.” You murmured.

“Poor woman. Excuse me!” She yelled out, giving you the tablet. 

“Your husband was the Cheater Therapist.” She pointed at the sniffling woman.

The man beside her stepped in front of her. “Hey, I'm not sure who you are, but this is not the time for judgement.” 

Natasha scoffed with a smirk. “What? No judgement here, Tissue Lad. I think her husband's work was bang on!” 

“I'm Detective Valeria. This is my associate, Ms. Romanoff.” You shook the man’s hand, but Natasha didn’t.

“Jonathan Medina. Colleague of Dr. Shaw's.” He introduced himself.

Natasha knelt before the crying woman. “Desire shouldn't be contained, it's unnatural. Your husband recognised that.” 

“Bernie, h-he just wanted to help people. He dedicated his life to others. Who would do this?” She asked her, whimpering and sniffling. 

“We'll find out, Mrs. Shaw.” You promised, gently tugging on Natasha’s shoulder to make her follow you.

“Yes?” The redhead grinned as she looked down at you. 

“Every one of her husband's patients is a suspect.” You sighed in annoyance, but strangely, it wasn’t at her.

“Oh! Does that mean we get to dive into patient files? Read the deepest, darkest secrets of L.A.'s most unfaithful?” She rubbed her hands together sadistically.

“No.” You warned her, smacking her hands apart. “We can't look at them without a psychologist to protect patient confidentiality.” 

“Perfect! I have just the psychologist!”

You frowned. 

“Dr. Kate Bishop, from our first investigation together? Ringing any bells up there?” She playfully tapped your temple. 

“The one that wanted to jump your bones? No. Not happening.” You shook your head. 

“No, I really think she'd bring some impressive insight into the issues that you're dealing with. Uh, in the case, obviously.” She quickly added.

“I really don't. Plus, it's out of our hands. Court-appointed. A judge needs to sign off.” You explained, walking towards the exit.

She chased after you. “Do you, uh… do you know who will appoint the psychologist?” 

“I think her name is Judge Tourvel. She’s our precinct’s normal judge for cases like this. Why?” 

You really shouldn’t have told her that.

The next day, you scoffed at the note on your case file before driving to the psychologist office, seeing Natasha and Kate conversing over papers. You knocked on the door, still wanting to be polite to the doctor, but you glared at Natasha.

“Natasha…” You growled.

“Ah! Speak of the Me.” She smiled gleefully, turning to you. 

“Out here. Now.” You pointed to the lobby, closing the door behind her.

You paced a bit as she stood there patiently in a suit of black on black, her hands in her pockets before you faced her. “What did you do?” 

“Not what, but who, if you must know. But I try not to kiss and tell.” She grinned. 

“I told you I didn't want to go with Dr. Bishop. We need someone impartial, which means not trying to get in your pants. What...?” You trailed off, her eyes just not focused on you which became evident when she walked around you. 

“Are you even listening to me?” 

“Not really. Look. A new doctor's moved in. Dr. Belova. How peculiar.” She murmured. 

“What do you mean?” You mumbled, annoyed that she was taking more interest in a name than a case.

“Well, Belova stems from the Russian word Bely, meaning white. It’s just… Never mind.” She turned around to face you.

“Now look, I assure you, Dr. Bishop is excellent. She trained at Stanford, she lectures at USC, she's got stacks of awards…” 

“Since when are you her fangirl?” You asked curiously.

“Since I became a client.” She replied.

“You? You're really in therapy?”

“Why is that so surprising?”

“Natasha, don’t take this the wrong way, but… well, you could if you wanted to - but you're the least reflective person I know.” You chuckled.

“I have layers.” She grumbled, a tone of discontent with your light insult. “I'm like an onion. Or an ogre, but if I was to be an ogre, I’d be irresistible. Dr. Kate said we recently made a breakthrough, in fact.”

“Why do I think that's code for sex? And do you still think you're the Devil?” 

“In that particular context, no. And I am the Devil.” 

“Then excuse me if I doubt her skills.” You remarked.

“Look, she's helped me, all right? And I think she can be of help here.” 

“Excuse me.” Kate came from around the corner. “I found something.” 

“Well, hello.” Natasha grinned. 

“What is it?” You asked, ignoring the redhead. 

“A patient named Richard Kester. His wife convinced him to try Dr. Shaw's therapy.” The doctor explained.

“Hmm, let me guess - didn't end well?” 

She nodded. “She had an affair. They got divorced. And then Richard sent Dr. Shaw a death threat. It's been more than a year, but that kind of anger can bubble up when you least expect it.” 

“Add him to the list of angry patients.” You told her. 

“That's just it. Richard's the only one so far. Dr. Shaw's patients seem remarkably happy with him.” She shrugged.

“Oh, do they now? See, cheater therapy works. Maybe you should've tried it with Detective Douche. Or was that what broke you apart?” Natasha feigned realisation.

You turned to face her, ever so slowly as you gave her a deadpan expression. “What is wrong with you lately?”

You then faced Kate. “Would you mind sitting in the back of the car whilst we go investigate?”

“Of course not. I’ll just lock my office and get my phone.” She walked back into the office.

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“So I don't understand all this jealousy talk. I mean, why covet something someone else has? Why not just take it?” Natasha asked, confused as she sat in the passenger seat whilst you drove.

“'Cause it's never that easy.” You chuckled. 

“Well, it is for me. Usually.” She looked at you, watching you roll your eyes again before she fiddled with the rings on her fingers. 

“I, uh… I may have overstepped earlier in regards to Detective Douche.”  

“Yeah. You definitely may have.” You snickered. 

“So why did you two separate anyway?” Natasha asked. 

You gave her a quick glance before turning your eyes back to the road. “Well, there were many aspects. He did sleep with another woman, Sharon, but the job was also more important to him than me and Peggy.” 

You sighed. “But lately something's changed. He... he makes time for me, he makes time for us. He's really putting in an effort. I am gay though…”

Natasha was unsure of why you sounded a bit hesitant. “Yes, if ever anyone deserved a participation trophy, it's Steve.”

You chuckled before your phone rang. “Valeria.”

“Uh, hello, Detective. It's about Richard. I wanted to warn you. He may be unstable. Possibly dangerous.” Kate spoke over the phone.

“I'll handle it, but thanks.”

“I don't mean to you. I mean to himself.”

A siren whooped to your side and you saw people filming above. You looked up and your mouth fell open at the sight of Richard standing at the edge of his apartment complex’s roof. “Yeah, you may be right. Natasha?” 

You turned to face her. But she wasn’t there. 

“Oh, my God. There's another one!” A bystander exclaimed, and you mentally wanted to hit yourself.

*Please, please, please… Fuck’s sake.* You thought to yourself as you saw Natasha standing up there. 

“Hey, Detective! You need your roots done!” Natasha grinned at you from the roof.

“I am going to kill you, Natasha Romanoff.” You muttered under your breath.

Natasha turned to Richard as he stared at the ground below. “I've made up my mind. You can't stop me.” His bald egg-head with a face and glasses spoke, not looking at Natasha.

“What? Oh, no. I'm not here to stop you. If you want to jump, go for it.” She chuckled, waving at you.

Richard was confused. “Is this some kind of reverse psychology?”   

“No, quite serious. Go for it.” She retorted.

He took a deep breath. “Okay, here goes.” 

“I do have one question before you pop off.” She interrupted just as his feet shuffled near the edge, her hand coming in front of the side of his chest to stop him. 

“You see, I'm trying to understand jealousy. It's a new concept to me. And you, dear Ricky, are the perfect person to explain it.” 

“What are you talking about...?” He trailed off as his feet slipped, Natasha’s hand catching his shirt easily. 

“Manners, Ricky. Manners! We're not done talking yet!” She held him out, glancing over his shoulder to see your eyes steeled in a shocked yet slightly angered expression.

“Okay, I'll talk!! Pull me back up, please!” Richard begged.

“Are you sure? 'Cause I could just…” She jolted her hold on him, the crowd below screaming slightly. “Natasha!” You yelled, swearing under your breath. 

“Pull me back up! Pull me up, please! Oh, God.” Richard closed his eyes, holding onto Natasha’s hand and wrist. 

“I'd save your breath if I were you. When it comes to this sort of thing, he's quite judgy.” She grumbled, looking at the sky annoyedly whilst she pulled him to her side. 

“Right, back to the matter in hand. Now, you were so jealous that you murdered Dr. Shaw. Can you help me understand why?” 

“How could you say that? I was about to jump, because he's dead-”

“Don't fib, Rickster. I know about your death threats.” She wagged her finger in his eyes. 

He shook his head. “I was in a bad place. Kara had just dumped me. I made my threats. Then I went to his office-”

“And killed him.” 

“And he talked me down.” Richard corrected her. “And afterwards, he kept seeing me, even though he knew I couldn't afford to pay him. I mean, he'd got me through my divorce, bankruptcy, the death of my parrot.” 

“Oh. I've just realised you're not jealous, are you? You're just sad. Pathetic, really.” Natasha sighed, having now wasted her time. “Well, if you can't tell me what I need to know, what good are you?” 

“Aren't you supposed to tell me that I have a lot to live for?” Richard scoffed. 

“Well, I wish I could, Ricky, but your life sounds incredibly bleak. Ironically, it seems there's nowhere to go but up.” She shrugged. 

“You know what? You're right.” 

“Huh?” 

“Maybe the worst is behind me. Hmm… I think I'm ready to go in now.” Richard decided.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Well, I wasn't asking, but, uh, all right, go on, quick as you can. Come on, chop, chop.”

As Richard stepped off, Natasha gave the firemen and the crowd a thumbs up,from which she earned some cheering and clapping. 

As Natasha stepped out of the building’s foyer, you stood there, shaking your head. “I can't believe you, Natasha.” 

“What? You should be thanking me.” She grinned.

“You put yourself in danger! That’s not how we do things.” You hissed at her, but Natasha simply grinned.

“What?”

“You were worried about me.” She smirked, leaning in slightly.

“I’m alright, malyshka. Don’t you worry about me.” 

You rolled your eyes and walked past her, but you gently tapped her hand for her to follow you. Richard was sitting in the back of an ambulance, wrapped in a blanket. 

“All right, Richard, we confirmed your alibi with your neighbour. You're free to go.” You smiled gently.

“How did this happen? Poor Sandy.” He asked. 

“Who's Sandy?” 

“Dr. Shaw's wife, Alexandra. Her friends all call her Sandy.” 

“Okay, and you're friends with your therapist's wife?” You mentally took note of it.

“Yes, how open was his relationship therapy, hmm?” Natasha grinned. 

Richard shook his head. “No, it's nothing like that. That's just how the Shaws are. They go above and beyond. I just ran into her two days ago. Sandy was planning a surprise for Dr. Shaw and everything.” 

“You ran into her two days ago... are you sure about that?” You frowned, to which he nodded.

“Alexandra told us she was in Phoenix. We checked her alibi. She had plane tickets to prove it. What was the surprise?” You asked. 

“I don't know. She just asked me not to tell Dr. Shaw she was in town.” He shrugged.

“Uh-huh.” Natasha nodded, looking at you.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” You asked her, to which she shrugged and followed behind you to your car. 

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Lux was almost empty, save a few customers, as Kate walked down the stairs and towards the bar, eyeing the Romani bartender serving drinks to a biker.

“We're closed.” She grumbled, pouring bourbon in a glass. 

“You must be Wanda.” Kate smiled, watching the demon’s head rise to meet her eyes. “You're just as Natasha described.” 

Wanda sauntered over to the end of the bar, smirking as she eyed the doctor’s body whilst pouring her own drink. “So, you're the doctor.” 

“Oh, call me Kate. Pleasure to meet you.” She held out her hand for Wanda to shake, but she just grabbed the glass and sipped her bourbon.

The demon wore a very low cut top that revealed the top of her lace black bra, whilst small spikes poked out onto her shoulders and in two necklaces, jeans hidden below the bar counter.

“I've seen that look in women before. Won't end well.” Wanda commented after finishing her sip. 

“What won't?” Kate frowned, confused. 

“Sleeping with my boss.” The demon clarified. “You'll end up like all the others. Trash left by the side of the road.”

“Interesting.” Kate smiled. 

“What?” 

“Well, I find people who are rude usually feel powerless in their own lives. Terrified of not being in control. But that's not you, I'm sure.” Kate analysed her. 

Wanda simply grinned, tapping her nails on the counter in quick succession. “I like you.”

As Kate was joined by you and Natasha, Wanda moved off to the side, serving the customers once more.  

“Doctor? What a surprise.” Natasha smiled. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked politely. 

Her brows frowned cutely. “I thought you asked me to meet you here.” 

“That-that was me. I felt like it would be good to get your input on ‘the case’.” Natasha looked from the doctor to you quickly, whilst you didn’t notice the wiggling eyebrows and slight inflection in her voice. 

“That's a good idea, actually, especially since our last suspect almost ended up sidewalk art. Turns out Mrs. Shaw flew to Phoenix but rented a car and drove back a couple days early.” You explained to Kate.

“So, dear, sweet Sandy was here just in time for the murder.” Natasha grinned as she collected a drink of her own.

“Wait, Alexandra Shaw goes by ‘Sandy’?” Kate asked, to which you nodded. “The doctor had a female patient who was stalked by someone with the initials S.S.” 

“He used initials in his notes? Mine never did.” You puzzled. 

“I found it odd as well. Why conceal someone's identity in private notes? But I thought it wasn't related, so I just ignored it.” Kate shrugged.

“Unless S.S. stands for Sandy Shaw. If she was stalking one of her husband's female patients…”

“Then maybe Dr. Shaw was engaged in his own open-relationship therapy.” 

“And Sandy found out. So maybe she wasn't okay with it as she claimed.” You finished off your 1-2-1-2 with Kate before your phone rang.

“Excuse me. Valeria. Yeah, this is 831. Oh, yeah, tell him I'll be there as soon as I can. Okay, thank you. That was dispatch. Steve's phone died, and he wants me to meet him at my place. Apparently it's urgent.”

As you were about to take off, however, Natasha’s eyes rolled. “Oh, how convenient. What's next, he spills something on his shirt and he has to take it off? Oh, no, the trousers, too. Whatever will he do about Detective Y/N by his side?”

You looked at her incredulously. “What?” 

“What, so that's it? You just go running as soon as Steve calls? What about the case?”

You sighed. “This could relate to another case I'm working on, Natasha. There's units looking for Sandy now. And once they find her, they'll call me.” 

You gave Kate a simple ‘bye’ with a respectful nod before leaving her and Natasha alone. 

“Unbelievable. You see what I'm dealing with now, don't you?” Natasha scoffed, downing the rest of her bourbon without a flinch in her face. 

“I think I do, actually. It's worse than I realised.” Kate nodded, faking seriousness.

“Thank you.” The devil shook her head. 

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You entered your house quickly, realising you hadn’t drank or eaten anything that day and headed straight to the kitchen. 

Mindless of the threat in your house.

“Hey, Steve. What did you find out?” You asked as you passed a male figure. 

“Surprise.”

You spun to see Malcolm in his leather jacket and jeans with a zip-up hoodie and a green tee. You flicked your jacket back and gripped your holster tightly, your breath shuddering at the sight of the man. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey! I just wanted to talk.” He chuckled awkwardly.

“You act all chummy in public, then you break into my home, trick me into meeting you in private? Excuse me if I'm not trusting.” You hissed.

“Hey, I'm not armed. All right?” He stood and flicked his jacket up, showing no belt, badge or gun. 

“All right. Then talk.” 

“I had to meet with you where no one else could hear.” He explained shortly. 

“Hear what, my screams?” You scoffed, making him chuckle.

“Valeria, we're on the same side. And I know you're still looking into Palmetto. Well, guess what? So am I.” 

“I put that to bed a long time ago.”

“That the best you got? God, you're a decent cop, but you are a terrible liar. Come on! Palmetto stinks. I should know. I was there.” He snickered.

“Mm-hmm. Go ahead, say it. I look dirty.” He opened his arms, exposing himself. 

You hesitated before lifting your finger to point at him, angry. “I saw you meet with Nikolas Aoudi. You were laughing. I saw you hand him cash.” 

“I've used him as a CI before. I was buying information. Then we both got sh*t. And I think it was a cop who sh*t me. But you knew that already, didn't you?” He grinned, folding his arms behind his back like a sneaky little shit.

You took a moment to breathe, not wanting your emotions to escalate. “Why do you think it was a cop?” 

“That's what I was paying Aoudi for. Intel on someone crooked at our station. But I think he, or she, got to me first.” 

“That's a great story. I love the ending. It-it really ties up all the loose ends.” You sighed sarcastically.

“Not really. I can't explain how the crooked cop knew I was there. How'd you find me?” He asked.

“I followed the stench.” 

He chuckled annoyedly. “You followed the... You know what? Screw this. I only called you to try and help.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, really. Listen, Valeria, they pulled the plug on me. I was dead.” 

He hit a nerve and the raging woman inside you retreated to lick her guilt-filled wounds. “I-I know.” 

“Made me appreciate the time I've got here. So, personally, I don't think I'm gonna dig any deeper on this one. And I wouldn't if I were you either.” 

“Not sure if that's a warning or a threat.” Your eyebrow raised.

“I'm not the enemy, Y/N. But whoever we were investigating, they're still out there. And they clearly don't have a problem shooting cops.” 

As he retreated out of your house, your phone rang again. “Valeria.” 

“We found Mrs. Shaw in a parking structure. We’re holding her here until you get here, so be quick.” An officer reported before hanging up, to which you called another as you went out to your car.

“Hey, Natasha - meet me outside Lux with Doctor Bishop in three.”

When you arrived, the two were standing outside by the curb. They climbed in, with Kate sitting in the back behind the caged divider whilst Natasha sat in the passenger seat. 

“Unis found Sandy Shaw in her car in a parking structure.” You reported to the Russian woman. 

“Oh, well, I hope our case didn't ruin your kissy-time with Steve.” She rolled her eyes.

“What is with your recent obsession with my love life?” You looked at her briefly.

“Obsession? That's awfully defensive. Probably indicates deeper issues, wouldn't you say?” She instantly turned to face Kate in the back seat.

“I agree. Why are you so defensive, Natasha?” 

Your eyes widened, happy to finally have somebody supporting you against this… unfortunately powerful woman. “Good question.” 

Natasha looked betrayed. “Et tu, Doctor?” 

“Natasha, you asked me to analyse the situation.” Kate replied.

“No, I asked you to help figure out what's wrong with her.” She pointed at you, which wasn’t the best time to admit that because you could give her a stare, given that you were at a red light.

“Did you now?” You raised an eyebrow, which… kind of scared her.

“Nothing's wrong with her. She's a woman balancing a lot on her plate, and, as far as I can tell, doing a fantastic job.” Kate elaborated, making your heart sing.

“Why, thank you. You're right, Natasha, she's amazing.” You teased.

“No, she's verbal Ebola. Where's the button to put the glass up?” Natasha looked around your console, which only controlled GPS, Bluetooth, your sirens, speaker and air-con. 

“This isn't a limo, Natasha. And, Dr. Kate, you should really join us more often.” You chuckled.

“Getting double-teamed is usually much more fun than this.” Natasha grumbled.

That was a mental picture your hindbrain adored and forebrain despised. “Mm. Gross.” ⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖

“So you lied to us. You were in town the day your husband died.” You stood opposite Alexandra - Sandy - as the uniformed officers surrounded the area.

“Yes. But it's not what you think.” She started to explain.

“Okay, then help me understand.” 

“Sandy, I'm on your side.” Natasha lightly pushed you out of the way, getting her mojo to work on the woman whilst she took her hand.

“Not everything stems from jealousy, no matter what these women tell you. You came here driven by some kind of desire, didn't you? Come on. You can tell me. What was it?” 

“It's disgusting.” Sandy sighed.

“Ooh, you naughty girl. Come on, now you have to tell me.” She teased.

“It's... in my car.” She unlocked the boot of it, to which you slowly waited for it to open.

“What is, Sandy?” Natasha grinned.

“Poop. Bags and bags of it.” Sandy admitted.

“Oh, my God.” You resisted the urge to gag, covering your nose with your hand which honestly didn’t do much.

All six foot four of Natasha immediately stepped back, shaking Sandy’s hand out of her own. “I'm not sure whether to be horrified or impressed.” 

“My friend owns a horse.” Sandy added. 

“That's… oddly comforting to know. What were you gonna do with it?” You asked.

“I was going to throw it at Tiffany.” 

“That's the patient you were accused of stalking.” Kate interjected.

Sandy nodded. “Yeah. She's in a group therapy session right now for my husband's clients.” 

“Group cheater therapy. Oh, the imagination runs wild.” Natasha chuckled.

You stepped forward, further into Sandy’s field of view. “So Tiffany was sleeping with your husband. How'd you find out?” 

“My husband's colleague, Dr. Medina, called me. He wanted to see if Bernie wanted to grab a last-minute drink, but Bernie was supposed to already be with Dr. Medina. That's when I knew my husband lied to me.” 

“But he was the cheater therapist. I don't quite see the problem here. I mean, you said yourself-”

Sandy interjected Natasha. “The problem is he fell in love with her. I lied to him about my trip, then I drove back from Phoenix to see what he was doing. I was…” 

Natasha groaned. “Oh, don't say it.” 

“Jealous.” 

The devil growled aloud. “Yes, yes, we all get it! Jealousy makes the world go cuckoo bananas!”

“I loved him. I didn't kill him. I just wanted him back.” Sandy sniffled, tearing up.

Further down in the car park, you spotted Steve’s car pulling up, anger painted clear as day across his face.

“Oh, great. The douche-mobile.” Natasha scoffed, folding her arms across her suit.

“Give me a second.” You asked her quietly, your tone immediately alerting her.

You swung underneath the metal pole and jumped down the metre to the road, walking to Steve. “Hey, I got your text. You okay? Did Malcolm hurt you?” He asked.

“No. I told you, it's-it's fine. Everything's fine.” You replied.

Steve exhaled frustratedly. “I'm gonna punch that son of a bitch right back into a coma.” 

“Oh, come on. No. No.” You pointed at him, making sure he understood your view. “Anything back on the 999 key?” 

“I'm sorry, Y/N. They couldn't get any prints off of it.” He replied.

“Thanks anyway.” You smiled softly.

Once you returned to the car, the uniformed officers now taking her to the station for questioning, you sighed as you stood next to Kate. “And once again, Natasha disappears.” 

“I think the case may have hit a little too close to home.” Kate pursed her lips slightly.

“Maybe things got a little too boring for Ms. Short Attention Span.” You chuckled, looking at Sandy as she sat in the car.

“I don't know. She's grown quite a bit since working with you.” Kate admitted. 

“I'm not sure I'm the reason. I think you've really helped her. I underestimated you before. I'm sorry.” You apologised. 

“Not needed. But thank you.” 

You chuckled softly to yourself as a thought came to your mind. “And I thought... I thought you were sleeping with her.” 

“Oh, I am.” The noirette admitted. 

“Oh. Oh. Is, um... is that...?” 

“Ethical? No. No, it is not.” Kate sighed. “But there's something about her. I can't stop myself. But I think it's time I did. I mean, even I'm starting to feel…” 

You shook your head at her, asking her silently to discontinue that line of conversation. 

“So do you think she did it?” She changed it. 

“Sandy claims she was sitting outside Tiffany's house, waiting for Dr. Shaw to show up. Problem is, no one can corroborate her alibi. But, no, I don't think it was her.” You shook your head. 

You took a few steps forward as you thought, racking your brain for a clue of some sort. “So there's no one in Dr. Shaw's files that looked like a potential suspect?” 

“Not that I can tell, but maybe I missed something.” Kate shrugged.

“Like what?” You pondered aloud.

“The cheater therapist turned out to be terrible at cheating. Why didn't he tell Dr. Medina he was using him as a cover story?” 

“Maybe he did. Maybe he confided in Dr. Medina.” 

“But Mrs. Shaw said that Dr. Medina had no idea about the affair.” 

“Yeah, so he conveniently told her everything she needed to know to figure it out.” A light bulb went off in your head. “We need to talk to Dr. Medina.” 

Natasha was tired of these stupid humans in this stupid grief group therapy session led by Dr. Medina for the death of Dr. Shaw. After twenty minutes of discussion, and even opening it up for debate, she had enough.

“When you say you, uh, b*rned your wings, was that a metaphor...?” 

“Not focusing on the right details here, Alan!” She sighed, annoyed.

Dr. Medina stood. “All right, this is supposed to be a grief therapy session for the patients of Dr. Shaw. And everyone here has a terrible loss to deal with.”

“What, and I don't? I've lost both my therapist and my partner.” She scoffed.

“I'm s... Th-They died?” He stammered. 

“No. No, you blubbering idiot, they turned on me. Some would argue that's worse- have you not been listening at all?” 

“Alright, you need to leave.”   

“No, I'm close to something. I can feel it.” She replied, nibbling lightly on her thumb knuckle.

“This is not about you!” Dr. Medina blurted out.

Her eyes lit up. “You're right. Yes… I should use one of you as a case study. Thank you for volunteering. So what... what makes you jealous? Hmm? What do you desire that you can't have?”

She willed her mojo onto him, staring him in the eyes. “I… I want Sandy.” He replied.

She grinned slightly. “I remember you now. Tissue Lad! Wanted some open relationship therapy of your own, is that it?” 

“That's not what it is like.” He groaned. 

“But she didn't want you, did she? Sandy loved her husband, so you killed him, didn't you?” 

“Shut up!” He yelled. 

She gasped playfully, looking at him like she won the jackpot. “Solved it, haven't I?!”

Dr. Medina spun around to the buffet table and grabbed a sharp knife, walking towards Natasha and holding it to her throat until they stopped at a wall, the other patients scrambling out of the way. 

“So that's a yes.” She muttered to herself. “Do you realise what you've done?” 

“I had to kill him, all right? He lied to her. He cheated on her. And I tried to tip her off, but no matter what he did, she still loved him.” 

“No, no, not that. This. Right here. You've just given me the perfect example of unbridled jealousy.” 

“I'm not jealous. I'm not!” He pleaded, almost begging her to tell him so.

“The woman that you loved was with someone else, someone you thought wasn't worthy of her. But no matter what you did…” She paused, the wires connecting as her winning grin fell sympathetically. 

“She never saw you the way you wanted her to.” 

“That's... That's pretty accurate.”

“Yeah. You've just made me realise something. That my situation and yours are…” And the wires uncrossed again. “Absolutely nothing alike. I was right! Not jealous!” 

“Drop your weapon!” You tackled Medina and threw him to the ground, rolling over him and removing the knife from his grip before he bit your hand, making you pull it back before whacking him point-blank with your elbow. 

You got on top, kneeling on his side whilst you pushed his head away from his arm. “Did you seriously just bite me?” 

Natasha grinned from where she stood. “He's the killer.” 

“Yeah, you think?” You smirked. 

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The night had risen from the sun’s sleep and you walked out of the small banquet room onto the street, smiling gently at Natasha as she leaned against her Corvette with a cigarette in hand.

You watched her carefully. “So you were right about Kate. She helped me figure out the motive. And then I realised Jonathan Medina and Dr. Shaw's offices shared the same security system. So I checked and... You're not listening to me, are you?”

She looked at you apologetically. “Afraid not, Y/N.” 

You came a bit closer to her, holding your arms in front of you with your hand clasped around the other wrist. “You didn't see any similarity between yourself and Jonathan?” 

“So you heard some of that, did you?” She smiled softly. 

“Tail end.” You nodded. 

She sighed, which worried you slightly when it was coupled with the unreadable expression on her face. “I don't know. Did you?” 

You shook your head, lying through your teeth for her comfort. “Mm-mm. No. Completely different.” 

“That's what I thought.” She chuckled lightly, inviting you to stand next to her. “I promise, you won’t scratch her. And even if you do, I can just get it fixed.”

You hesitantly leaned on her car, keeping away from her cigarette smoke. 

“So… how's your secret case with Steve going?” She asked.

“Secretly terrible. Do you remember Malcolm?” 

“Coma boy?” 

You chuckled at her nickname for him, nodding. “He woke up. He claims he's innocent. Something he said bothers me. Whoever shot him knew about Palmetto, but he says that no one should have known he was there.” 

“Well, you found him there.”

“Yeah, I... He pointed that out, too. So, whoever followed him could have done what I did.”

“So how did you track him?” She took a puff. 

“Partners on the force share GPS locators in their gear so that they can find each other in emergencies.” 

“You hacked his partner's locator. I knew you were clever.” She smirked, noticing your realisation expression. 

“Which means… Malcolm's partner knew he was there, too. Tony Paolucci knew.”

Natasha held up her keys before the doors of the car unlocked, popping out slightly. “Get in, gorgeous.”

⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖

You stepped out of Natasha’s car just outside of the Paddock Lounge, looking across the street whilst Natasha knocked on the door. 

“That's Paolucci's car, just like his GPS said.” 

“But the bar's closed.” Natasha grumbled. 

“Maybe he decided to keep the party going.” You stepped up close to the window to look inside, hearing the door creak beside you. 

“You have to stop doing that.” You chastised her. 

“It was unlocked.” She rolled her eyes, watching your hand shoot out to stop her from walking in.

“Me first.” You held up your torch and gun, stepping in front of her to go inside.

The whole bar was surrounded in darkness. Your torch scanned over the place as you called for Paolucci, but there was no voice back. By the bar on the right, were glasses splattered with blood.

And Paolucci’s dead body sat in a chair, with a TV screen running statically behind him. 

“At least you can see what he was thinking.” Natasha murmured by your shoulder, making you scoff.

You called the cops and they swarmed the place, placing evidence pointers and taking many photos. You sighed in relief as you saw Steve come through the door, Natasha hanging back with a flask in hand.

You walked up to your ex-husband. “I found a suicide note.” You showed it to him in an evidence packet.

“In his handwriting?” He asked.

“Sure looks like it. Apparently, he was on the take. Malcolm was onto him, so Paolucci shot him. When Malcolm woke up, Paolucci couldn't take the guilt anymore.”

You saw no emotion in his eyes, yet tears lightly pricked them. “You okay?” 

“Paolucci was an ass, but this... I can't imagine this.” Steve muttered. 

“I know. I know.” You hugged him tightly.

As you exited the bar, you stood on the curb silently. Everything that had happened over the last few days was catching up. Your hand at your side began to tap along your fingers methodically until a warm hand took them gently.

“Hey now, what’s going on in that beautiful mind?” Natasha cooed, leading you towards her car.

You didn’t speak until you were buckled into the passenger seat. “Malcolm came to my house this morning. He pretended to be Steve and called to meet me there.”

Natasha’s eyes would have lit up in flames if you were not in a fragile state of mind. “He did what?”

“He explained what he thought about Palmetto. He has his suspicions of who it could be. Some low-level cops, wanting to get their first big break and make detective.” You mumbled, noticing how she played with her rings.

“I will put him back in that coma in a heartbeat if he threatens you or tricks you again.” She seethed.

You gently put your hand on top of hers, calming her immensely. “I just… I need to go home and let the babysitter go. Could you take me?”

She nodded, immediately starting the engine. Funnily enough, however, neither of you moved away from your small contact until you got out of the car and she walked you to your door.

“Thank you.” You murmured.

“For what, malyshka?” She asked quietly.

“For being my partner. You give me a perspective I never imagined I would have thought of.” You smiled softly.

She gently pushed a few hairs back over your ear, hearing your breath hitch as she moved to pull you into a hug. “You’re always welcome, Y/N.” 

She kissed your temple sweetly before going back to her car, giving you a wink before she sped off towards the city.

However, had she taken a left turn earlier, she would have happened upon the scene of Malcolm and Steve secretly meeting, the two talking between their cars.

“Evening, Steve.” Malcolm greeted him. 

“I got your text. What do you want?” He asked.

“Just wanted to congratulate you on closing Palmetto. You and that smart, sexy lady of yours caught the guy who shot me.” 

Steve looked… nervous. Fidgety. “That's what the confession said, right?”

He looked around briefly before speaking lower. “How long did it take you to write it?”

Malcolm held a straight face for about three seconds before laughing out loud. “Forever! I mean, I'm so not a word guy.” 

Steve looked confused. “What? You should be thanking me.” Malcolm scoffed. 

“Why is that?” 

“Well, I could have told everyone the truth... that you shot me.” 

“Well why didn't you?” 

Malcolm came closer to him. “Cause I like you. And I can't imagine what would happen to your life if people found out the truth. Your colleagues, your ex…” 

Steve seethed slightly, grabbing Malcolm by the collar and throwing him up against his car. “I swear to God, I will-”

“What? shoot me? Ah, been there, done that. Big fail. Besides, you wouldn't want anything to mess with your pretty little family now that you're working to fix things, right?” 

“Whatever you want to do to me, you keep them out of it.” 

Malcolm gestured for the blonde to put him down. “Steve. Come on. I'm not gonna hurt anyone. No. No, no, no, no, no. You... you and I... we're gonna be best friends. Yeah. Because I got big plans for you. Big plans.”

Steve grimaced as Malcolm put him in a playful headlock. Fun, right? We're having fun now.”

⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖

Lux was pumping with music as Natasha came in, but she didn’t greet anybody playfully, oh no - Natasha was on a mission, as pointed out to her main demon as she used a single finger to beckon her.

Wanda walked over in nothing but a bra-like top and skirt, smirking unknowingly. “Yes, My Queen?”

“I just learned the strangest thing. Spoiler alert, Yelena found Dr. Kate. She was an angel on her shoulder, trying to control me. I wonder how my dear, angelic sister got such a wickedly clever idea.”

Natasha stared daggers into Wanda’s eyes, the demon lifting her chin up slightly as she tried to defend herself. “I did it to protect you. I told you, whatever the danger, I'll be there to stop it. Whether you see it coming or not.”

“You betrayed me, Wanda. And not for my own good. You did it for yourself. Who is this human world really rubbing off on, hey? Me? Or you?”

“Natasha, I…” 

Natasha lifted her finger, the demon silencing by her quiet order. “Ah. Don't want to hear it. 'Cause you and me, we're done.”

The devil walked off with Wanda's drink in hand, putting on a smile as she now began to greet guests like normal whilst Wanda was left sulking behind the bar.

[inxumerable]

|Okay! So multi muse blog is officially up and ready(ish!)

CURRENTLY UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Under the cut is the current muse list:

Prodigal Son:

Malcolm Bright (;Brightish;): FC Tom Payne,Canon plot-Malcolm is the son of famous serial killer known as the surgeon and works as a special consultant with NYPD. Due to his history Malcolm suffers from severe PTSD and commonly experiences tremors. He also some sociopathic tendancies. 

(;LikeSurgeon;) In this verse Malcolm takes after his father, inheriting the traits that canon Malcolm feared having. The surgeon was never turned in and Malcolm learned the tools of his trade.  

Martin Whitly (;surgeon;): The father to Malcolm Bright, A serial killer known as the Surgeon, who is currently locked up in the Claremont psychiatric hospital. (or other plotting him can put him after he succeeds in escaping (or prior to being brought in.)

Doctor Who:

Victorian-Clara Oswald (;Victorian;): FC Jenna Coleman, Clara is barmaid in Victorian london, who also double as a governess when she meets the Doctor. In this AU she doesn’t fall and travels with the Doctor. Other AU’s can include her having adventures with Vastra’s gang, modern day AU’s, or anything we want to plot.

Jack Harkness (;harkness;): FC John Barrowman, Jack is still doing jack, aka always looking for the doctor and/or adventures but this jack takes place after losing Ianto.

-Alternative verse (;mirror harkness;) Is set in universe where Jack was a companion to a darker doctor. While he retains much of his personality, he is a bit darker. (Plotting can weed out specifics!)

Mr. Clever (;cyberplanner;): Clever managed to beat the Doctor at chess, and managed to take over completely. Or so he thought. While he did take over control of the body, the Doctor is always there as an extra (annoying) consciousness. He does have the TARDIS, but half the time she doesn’t behave for him.

Amy Pond (;thelegs;): The other half of Amy and Rory! In canon after being sent back she lived her life with life with Rory. Outside of canon? She can be placed anywhere and in anytime. Probably would be pre-angels. 

Fob!watched Missy (;Disguisedsleuth;): FC Lara Jean Chorostecki, After being shot by simm!master, She still managed to regenerate and hid her self, becoming tattle-crime writer Freddie Lounds. Even after opening the watch she still tries to be good, hoping the Doctor finds her. Or she can horribly fail and revert to her old ways.

Tenth Doctor (;allons-y;): The main timeline is post end of time where he is fighting of regeneration. But very much not set in stone!

Hannibal:

Freddie Lounds (;crimesleuth;): Freddie Lounds is journalist for tattle-crime, not afraid to push boundaries when she wants something. Most come to believe its for a sense of Justice. But Freddie has a dark secret, too. (AUish) 

Hannibal Lecter (;ripper;): Hannibal Lecter, also known as the chesapeake ripper is a therapist who also doubles as a cannibal?? Plot wise he can be anywhere but will primarily placing for surviving the fall if not specified. 

Will Graham (;Graham;): In canon (formerly) works as a special consultant for the FBI. Primarily putting him in season 2-3. Can also be post surviving fall.

Baldurs gate 3:

Karlach {;Infernal Engine;): Karlach is tiefling set in the world of baldurs gate 3. She is red skinned and has two horns, however one of her horns is broke off. Her heart? Yeah its engine thats only getting hotter. She served for ten years in avernus, unwillingly a champion to Zariel. Until she escaped, but is she ever really free?

Isobel {;let me be your guide and I'll show you the light | Isobel;}

[cosplayingwitch]

New Masterlist

It's about time I make a new masterlist for what I've written (even though the last time I've posted something was in January...)

Anyway, this is accurate as of 10/13/23.

SERIES

Finding My Way Home

Poe Dameron x Reader, slow burn, friends to lovers, fluff Chapter 1 - A Study in Dirt and Stars Chapter 2 - Presentation is Everything Chapter 3 - Life on Pause Chapter 4 - Just the Beginning Chapter 5 - Masquerades and Making Amends AO3

The Sorceress of New York

Bucky Barnes x Reader, spoiler - soulmate AU revealed at the end, reader has magical abilities, near death encounter (reader) Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 (Eventually there will be an epilogue here, but who knows when I'll post that. It has been written though.) AO3

One Shots

Pizza and a Movie

Bucky Barnes x Reader; established relationship, fluff AO3

The Interview

Natasha Romanov/Black Widow x Reader AO3

A Girls Afternoon

Spencer Reid x Reader mentioned, platonic friendship with Penelope Garcia AO3

Costumes? Really?

Wanda Maximoff x reader, additional marvel couple mentioned; established relationship, fluff AO3

The Dangers of Sewing

Bucky Barnes x Reader; established relationship, fluff AO3

Dancing in the Kitchen

Loki x reader; established relationship, fluff, based on song lyrics

Three Drinks, Two Texts, and a Phone Number

Malcolm Bright x Reader; meet-cute, fluff (potential for me to continue into a series if I ever have the motivation...)

Winter Wonderland

Wanda Maximoff x Reader; established relationship, fluff

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF ANY OF THE LINKS ARE BROKEN!

[latenightsandliquor]

Love in the Time of Dinosaurs

While secretly infiltrating Biosyn, Dr Ian Malcolm finds more than he’s looking for…

A slow burn love story with a new female character. This story will feature an age difference and some eventual smut.

Did anyone ask for this? No.

Am I writing it anyway? Yes.

Welcome and enjoy!

Chapter One

Zoe Bailey made her way down the winding stairs to the coffee counter in the cafeteria of the central Biosyn student building. Her morning lecture wasn’t scheduled for another half an hour. She ordered her usual strong tea and sat down in a stylish, but uncomfortable, wooden chair. It was her third week working as a guest lecturer for Biosyn and she was still adjusting. There was a lot that had lured her to the tucked away Italian mountain campus - generous work conditions and pay, an impressive boost to her career and most importantly to Zoe, a fresh start.

She scanned the cafeteria as she sipped her tea. There were already plenty of eager young students milling about. Some deep in discussion, others tapping away at their laptops. Zoe had been impressed with the tenacity and drive of the students in her lectures. She was enjoying their eager engagement in her sessions, their bright eyed optimism about a better future, even if their tender youth made them naive. Zoe had been like that too at their age.

Zoe looked around again then checked her watch. Time to head to the lecture theatre. As she began to ascend the stairs she spotted who she’d been looking for, the infamous man in black himself - Dr Ian Malcolm. While they hadn’t formally met, his reputation around campus proceeded him. He was Biosyn’s rock star lecturer and the students (and fellow academics) could not get enough of him. He caught Zoe’s eye and smiled at her. She smiled back at him as she passed. This had become a daily ritual for the two of them since Zoe had arrived and each morning Zoe could feel a flutter of attraction inside of her. Ian was older, but still attractive as hell. A silver fox. It had been a long time since she had felt that way about a man and it was enough to put a spring in her step for the rest of the day.

Ian couldn’t help but smile at the woman he’d been passing each morning on his way for coffee. She was younger than him, mid thirties he’s estimated, well dressed and sexy in a subtle, academic kind of way. Just his type. Today as he came down the stairs he observed her - hair in a braid over her shoulder, silk shirt unbuttoned just enough to hint at her breasts below, high waisted pants and heels. He licked his lips and resisted the urge to turn back around to watch her make her way up the stairs. He was here strictly on business he reminded himself. Although come to think of it, why should he deny himself some pleasure at the same time? As he made his way to the coffee counter he looked over his shoulder hoping for one last look at her. Their eyes met and she shot him a flirty look. He really needed to introduce himself.

[slayernina]

iZombie Pilot differences

(Well, the 2nd draft at least XD) 

https://www.scriptslug.com/script/izombie-101-pilot-2015

Just random things that caught my attention:

Olivia “Liv” Moore (27). Rose has the same age as her character while filming season 1.

She’s transitioned from bright, blonde. I wonder why they put Rose McIver natural blonde into a brunette. More contrast with the transition? Ironically, her “human” costume has Rose with her natural hair.

Clive Babinaux (30). Malcolm was 33 while filming.

Think Shaft as channelled through Jordan Peele. He's that rare combination of self-aware and super-fly. Cleavon Little in BLAZING SADDLES. I don’t get these references since I didn’t watch any of this movies, but Clive was much more serious and focused in “our” pilot.

Dr. Ravi Chakrabarti (40s). Wow, Ravi was way older than our Ravi. Rahul was 30 while filming. Thankfully we didn’t have another Hollywoodesque 10 years gap with any of the potential love interests (at this point, on paper Liv or Peyton). Also, since Rahul isn’t into “brown characters casting calls” and the age, I wonder if Ravi was the original name or if they changed the name and background after hiring the actor.

Think Simon Pegg’s “Scotty” in the Star Trek movies. A high energy, enthusiastic nerd, who has a brilliant mind that isn’t equipped with a filter or an off switch. He has an endearing lack of interpersonal skills and a genuine enthusiasm for unknown and unexplained. Conspiracy theories and unsolved mysteries are his porn. I’m glad we didn’t get another Sheldon or House.

Major Lilywhite (28). Robert Buckley was 34 while filming. A bit older than Liv but better than most of media. (Yes. I fucking hate late 30s/40s actors banging twentysomethings, specially since actresses are pretty fucked up when they turn 30).

A former University of Washington strong safety turned environmental engineer. The social worker turned Lord Commander was cooler.

Peyton Charles (26). Aly Michalka was 26 while filming.

They shared a love of lists and plans and predominately socialized while burning calories. Fuuuuuuuuck that. I wouldn’t handle another pretty best friend playing fatshaming into the audience. The deconstruction of using gorgeous Aly instead of “the chick” as the more stable, serious brain of the pair for me was refreshing. Even when she was “the damsel in distress” she was because she was overpowered by far.

That’s why seeing her daughter turn from ambitious super-achiever into zombiefied couch potato. Sorry. I laughed so hard with “zombified couch potato”. I think I’m going to make this my personal motto.

Evan Moore (16). Liv’s 16-year-old brother wants to be the next Dylan which is tough when your mom expects you to be the next Elon Musk. What. I didn’t expect this.

He’s a bit ashamed that he may like his sister Liv a bit better now that she’s changed into this new version that doesn’t remind himself so much of his mother. Screaming into the void forever for all the potential wasted in the Moore family that we never got.

Blaine DeBeers (28). David Ander was 34 while filming.

He’s the wussy, polo shirt with the collar up, selfimportant jerk who makes the jump from run of the mill spoiled asshole to completely evil crime lord. Probably David gives too much of evil lord or dangerous sociopath since the beginning to make him be a frat boy. I mean, the yellow plastic jacket was too much but a polo shirt? What a disgrace.

EXT. LAKE WASHINGTON, SEATTLE - NIGHT CAMERA FLIES ACROSS THE SURFACE OF LAKE WASHINGTON toward a dozen party boats tied together in such a way that people can just step from one boat to the next -- Lake Havasu-style. Wow, that looked so cool. I suppose we didn’t get it for budget reasons. Also no Marcy/Major introductory scene.

SLOW MOTION SHOT of Liv running straight at camera trying to cross the 20 feet that mean a chance at survival, a look of determination on her face. Pilot Liv was braver than Our Liv. And also snarkier.

REVEAL LIV, still hot, but now shockingly pale with nearly white hair. Still hot? Ugh.

Peyton leads her to an EMPTY CHAIR across from where the rest of them are sitting, then takes her seat with the group. The intervention was heavier. Liv’s inner dialogue also changes a bit more during the full original pilot.

DR. RAVI CHAKRABARTI (30s, nebbish, high-energy.). The age change here again. A mistake?

She turns to find BLAINE (late 20s, entitled, wearing a “Hugs Not Drugs” shirt.) He leans in close, his mouth by her ear, pulls plastic vials from his pocket. Blaine “no personal space” DeBeers XD

Liv throws her beer in his face. Blaine takes a menacing step toward Liv when he is tackled by a zombie. Liv shrieks, looks up, and sees the rolling zombie outbreak coming at her. This Blaine is more aggressive and his zombie origin story is different.

We return to the moment of Liv hiding under the boat railing surrounded by zombie chaos. Hid under a boat railing instead a table. I suppose budget again.

The last person she sees is BLAINE who is now a zombie. He’s left a bloody scratch down her arm. Liv wrenches free, but in doing so, bangs her head against the side of the boat and slips into the water. Different than rolling backwards to the water.

Suddenly, the blackness rips open revealing the NIGHT SKY and FLASHING RED LIGHTS. She wakes up in the night instead of the day.

Liv finishes up her story. LIV So, I hung out a while, chatted with the EMT. Made sure he had the correct spelling of my name. (off Ravi’s stare) I’m kidding. I took off. Pilot Liv craked a joke instead of “The EMT was too upset about having accidentally bagged a “living” girl to ponder any other possibilities”.

RAVI So you feel normal after you feed? LIV (smirks) Feed? -- like an animal? RAVI Sorry -- poor word choice. LIV No worries. It’s probably accurate. Truth is... I never feel normal. I don’t think I’ve slept in five months... And trust me, zombie-ism has its side effects. RAVI The Tabasco? LIV Pretty much the only way I can taste anything is if it would have at least six chili peppers next to it on a menu. The Liv-Ravi conversation was different and longer.

As Liv passes the open door of Peyton’s room, she spots a SORORITY MUG FULL OF PENS on a nearby bookshelf. She grabs the pens and continues towards the kitchen. (NOTE: This is the first of several beats of Liv impulsively swiping random objects. We’re not sure why but it will become clear later.). In our pilot Peyton asked where the pens were, here we can see how she steals them.

Too long to put in here, but there’s a full Lillymoore scene deleted in which Liv gets a bit jealous, rambles about a true love relationship and sex with a zombie, another in which the vision is different and another with Liv with concerned Evan scene deleted.

KTAU news. With Roxanna Bull. Tom Vasquez. Bill Sylvester with sports and Johnny Raines with weather. Johnny Frost was Johnny Raines and worked in channel 7 instead of 11.

Ravi and Liv sit at Clive’s desk. Ravi taps away on his phone (...). Ravi was with Liv initially at Clive’s desk scene and during Johnny’s scene. Also the conversation was way longer.

Tatiana was called Paulina Wojcinski and was Polish instead of Romanian.

Some not related with the case dialogue between Liv and Clive reaching to Paulina’s apartment has been cut.

Liv turns to him, her face ashen. This is the moment she loses her Winona Ryder dour/cool/bored affect. Interesting comparison lol

Liv, looking shell-shocked, waits nearby as Clive pounds on the door to Tess’ apartment. Soul-patched neighbour Truman opens his door in a huff.

TRUMAN She’s gone. Whatever you told her, it sent her running. It’s her body, you know. Only a patriarchal society would prevent women from monetizing their own—

CLIVE Did she say where she was going? The scene with the guy was shorter.

Liv steals a wooden apple instead of eyes. There’s two cut scenes, one with Clive, another with Eva. Clive and Eva meet. Also the scene at Paulina’s apartment is translated partially to a hotel room, with a vision involving Paulina and Tess. Another scene is added involving another apartment. Another scene involving the bad guy and Clive is cut too.

Peyton exits. Liv is thrown by Peyton’s show of emotion. She looks over the stolen loot, her slovenly attire, her Cheetostained fingers as she processes Peyton’s speech. LIV - Pathetic. Liv’s awakening is different.

The scene with Johnny is shorter, another scene with Pratt was cut.

The scene with Pratt and the girls was way shorter. There are several scenes of Clive running after Pratt and Liv and Clive interacting with the girls that were cut. Liv almost eats Pratt.

A scene in which Liv gets her zombie makeup applied and wanders through the haunted mansion is cut. Most of the conversation with Major and Peyton is cut.

What are your opinions on this?

My other metas here

La maldición de las cuatro brujas here

Una novela romántica de esas con un macizorro sin camiseta en la portada here

Un romanzo rosa di quelli con un fusto a petto nudo in copertina here

Buy me a ko-fi!

[kaeinherworld]

I have new ideas every day and @marie-sworld is here to witness that. I am always brainstorming with her. I am Sherlock and she is my Watson.

Several days ago, I imagined a mini-fic which would be a crossover between Prodigal Son and Criminal Minds with a love triangle (Female!Reader x Spencer Reid, Female!Reader x Malcolm Bright).

This afternoon, I developed the idea of ​​a Dean Winchester x Female!Reader fanfic. It would be a slowburn with an Exes To Lovers trope.

I am also working on my Damon Reznor x Original Female Character fanfiction. It is an 'Enemies' to Lovers one.

And without forgetting all the one shots that I am working on for my writing blog aka @thefictionalnerdy.

[allthemusic]

Week beginning: 12th December

So here we are. Back at that time of year where I have to listen to a whole bunch of Christmas music out of season. It is September, y'all. It's hot, and the school year's about to start back and I am listening to Christmas music. In September. *Sighs*

My Special Angel - Malcolm Vaughan (peaked at Number 3)

And so we get another number from Malcolm Vaughan, part of the holy trinity of confusable mid-tier 1950s artists, along with Frankie Vaughn and Frankie Laine, all of whom I mix up with each other on a fairly regular basis in the course of writing this blog up.

Interestingly, the version I've found of this song comes from a soundtrack album, a compilation of songs used in Call the Midwife, of all things. Which maybe gives you an idea of the level of sentimentality we've got here. It's not bad, though, just quite sappy, lots of lines about how You are my special angel / Through eternity or how I'll have my special angel / Here to watch over me.

Lyrically, it's cheesy, and all of it delivered with a sort of grandiose, slightly operatic singing style that I'd normally not be a fan of, but to tell the truth, it's kind of working for me? There's something in the combination of Malcolm's apparent obsession over how angelic and perfect his love is, the backing singers, the slowed-down ballad-like beat of it all, that just sounds kind of cute, in a vaguely tipsy way. It's like you've just done shots with Malcolm and he just has to tell you about how amazing his girlfriend is, it's sweet, you know?

It was apparently originally a country number, and a hit in the US for one Bobby Helms, before becoming a pop hit for the Vogues, and for the amazingly-named Four Preps, who put it onto an equally amazingly-named album, How To Succeed in Love (If You’re Really Trying). Nothing particularly notable about the latter two covers, I just liked all the names! Malcolm, in this context, is something we've seen before, a Brit covering American originals - which really does seem to be the default mode for British artists, at this point, with only a rare few writing their own material.

But yes, I quite like this one. And I suspect the fact that it's our only non-Christmas song won't hurt it, either, this week.

Santa Bring My Baby Back (To Me) - Elvis Presley (double A-side, 7)

I'll just say it, I did not know either of these songs before today. They've both got titles that look vaguely familiar, and I think I assumed that if Elvis did Christmas music, I'd have heard it already? But no, both of these songs were completely unfamiliar, once I hit play.

It's a shame, too, because they're both pretty nifty. This one, for example, is a pacy rock and roll number, all about how Elvis just wants his love back for Christmas: I don't need a lot of presents / To make my Christmas bright / I just need my baby's arms / Wound around me tight. Without his absent love, it just won't feel like Christmas, and so Elvis is asking Santa for the one this that's going to make him happy, and that's it, that's the song.

The whole thing trots along nicely - it's about how miserable Elvis is, but he doesn't dwell on how blue he feels, which is probably a good shout for a Christmas song. At the end of the day, you want this song to be the sort of thing you can put on at a Christmas party without immediately bringing the mood down. So you get this kind of good-natured rocker, livened up expertly by the Jordanaires, who I think we might have heard on a few other Elvis numbers, but who never fail to deliver a tight, competent performance. Also, they have a very deep bass - like, comically deep - and that's always a plus in my book.

I complain about listening to Christmas music, but honestly, it it was all this competent and zippy, I'd maybe mind less! I also kind of wonder why this doesn't get more airplay on UK radio - I get the impression, from what I can tell, that both this and the next song are radio staples around Christmastime in the US, and honestly, I'd love to hear them more here.

Santa Claus is Back in Town - Elvis Presley (double A-side, 5)

Before I talk about what I actually think about it, I do have a bone to pick with this song. Namely, the title is just too similar to both the previous song and the Christmas staple that is "Santa Claus is Coming to Town". It destroys any sense of this song as a distinct entity. Which is a shame, because it's a banger, and Christmas Time (Pretty Baby) was right there as a name options.

Oh well. The song, when it starts, is just a straight up blues number, with a very straightforward 12-bar blues structure. Elvis repeats a line, then develops it, and there's an impressive level of wailing and moaning about, all of it over a choppy, distorted bassline that's shockingly heavy. Like, you could absolutely see a group like Led Zeppelin taking cues from this and doing a metal cover, it's that heavy.

(Okay, I literally wrote that and then saw that Robert Plant did, in fact, do a cover at one point. What can I say? When I'm good, I'm good!)

I'd say that the guitar is my favourite thing about the song, except after a few verses, you then get to my actual favourite bit, as the song gets all quiet for a moment before you get this messy, tumbling, absolutely cacophonic piano, accompanied by just this filthy laugh from Elvis. It's gravelly and honestly just real creepy, but in the context of the song, it's perfect, because, uh - well, listen to the lyrics, okay?

They don't get any less racy on a repeat listen. Elvis leans heavily on the innuendo, urging the listener to be a real good little girl for Santa, promising that you won't see me comin' in a big black Cadillac, and finally, in what feels like the most suggestive lyric of the whole thing, leaning right into the line about Santa comin' down your chimney tonight. It's... definitely something. Not sure if there's precedent for this, honestly. This might actually be the grittiest, dirtiest song in the UK charts yet, and I love it.

Man, listening to these three songs in order is a journey. We start innocent, Malcolm gushing about just how perfect his baby is. Elvis brings a bit of longing to the party, but it's still good fun, still standard-issue fun, romantic holiday fare. And then your parents turn their backs for literally a second and he laughs the laugh of a bona fide pervert, then promises to break into your bedroom and ravish you. Possibly dressed as Santa. So yeah. Good job, record-buying public. Good job.

Favourite song of the bunch: Santa Claus is Back in Town

[kid2005]

OC character for euphoria

Before Tokie had a happy childhood, his dad was a barber and his mom worked at East Highlander Hospital as a nurse. for as long as Tokie could remember he idolized his dad when he was little with him always following him around especially at the Barbershop , from the day he was born him and his dad’s bond was inseparable even in his name with him naming his Only Son Malcolm Patrice Thompson Named for Two Black leaders Malcom x and Patrice Lumbmaa.

But that was over when the night came when Tokie’s Dad was shot by Police they said he was resisting and tried to pull out a gun and shot him only to realize it was his car keys and that they just murdered a father in front of his son who screamed and cradled him.

After that the little boy who loved to laughed, loved to play Basketball with his dad and bright joy was gone .

As Tokie Grew he became a killer on the court and track With both serving as his outlet to let all the pain hurting and the broken little boy out with him coming close to breaking the backboard multiple times in different games and his constant playing with anger, and anger being how much he fell, wanting to just lash it out at the world, and the society was born into always chasing him ready to make the killing shot.

But beyond all that anger, reservedness, and pain is still that little boy and someone who no one knows writes poetry and is wanting to become an artist .

But he’ll never let no one know that, but only a few of his friends, knowing it with him often hiding it with the reserve and toughness

[avant-hope]

Not Too Much on Martin

NOTE: This post is a behemoth with a ton of pictures, hyperlinks, and text. It will probably crash your phone if you are in app.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Was a Black, Baptist Preacher and Civil Rights Leader born January 15th, 1929 [we love a Capricorn here] in one of the Blackest cities on the planet: Atlanta, Georgia. He is known to the world as the man who gave the I Have a Dream speech, went to jail for the cause a few times, led some marches, and most notably, ended racism. More importantly than ending racism, he did all these things through completely non-violent means.

This white-washed understanding of Dr. King is so incredibly pervasive that it also persists within the Black community. My aunt has this absolutely absurd hyperrealist drawing that I grew up looking at depicting Martin Luther King Jr. Beside Barack Obama that sort of looked like this:

Image ID: Disembodied images of Barack Obama and Martin Luther King Jr. Beside one another in Black and white

This post isn’t about Obama, but at a certain age, I started looking at that photo with some contempt. Martin Luther King Jr. was probably rolling in his grave being depicted as a guardian angel of one of the most vicious American war criminals of all time. Placing him in the cultural Overton window as so was probably easy because he’s dead and can’t speak for himself to dispel this nonsense, so I’m here to do it today.

Dr. King gave his most famous speech I Have a Dream, on August 28th, 1963 during the March on Washington For Jobs and Freedom, or the Great March on Washington for short. The speech was delivered at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial.

Within the context of what we as a nation believe about it and Dr. King and I Have a Dream today [how he’s discussed in schools, in speeches, and on the news] large sections of the speech are missing from the cultural Overton Window. Of the five refrains of “I have a dream…” within the speech, I personally have only seen up to two of them mentioned, those being the ones where he talks about wanting white and Black children to be able to go to school together, and the “not by the color of their skin but the content of their character” part.

Alongside the refrains being cut out, there’s also the top half of the speech where he says some things that were probably considered inflammatory in the moment:

“There will be no rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.” - Dr. King, August 25th, 1968. I Have a Dream.

This speech has been instrumental in minimizing Dr. King’s revolutionary action and ideology in part because aside from containing minimal critique of white America and being inspiring, the speech also takes several moments to gesture away from physical violence.

He spends so much time insisting that violence is bad probably to avoid getting SHOT and still, even those parts of his speech go unrecognized except for the one time you had to read it in 5th grade. He was still listed as an adversary of the FBI, enduring smear campaigns, and listed as a possible "Black Messiah" in COINTELPRO, a document written by J Edgar Hoover with the express motive of illegally undermining Black Liberation efforts.

Image ID: Redacted COINTELPRO document proposing exposing Jean Seberg's pregnancy to tarnish her reputation.

Malcolm X was also listed as a possible Black Messiah in COINTELPRO, though they note him as a martyr for the Black cause; someone who fucked around and found out—

“Prevent the RISE OF A “MESSIAH” who could unify, and electrify, the militant black nationalist movement. Malcolm X might have been such a “messiah;” he is the martyr of the movement today.” - J. Edgar Hoover, COINTELPRO

Martin Luther King is mentioned within the same bullet point, though, the FBI considered him more respectable and "obedient" at the time.

Now within the context of the public eye, they are at odds with one another, specifically on the subject of violence, or militancy. Where Malcolm X promoted the By any means necessary line of thought, Dr. King was an incredible admirer and student of the famously non-violent Mahatma Gandhi.

Image ID: Dr. King standing at his desk overlooked by a portrait of Mahatma Gandhi

Positioning them as enemies within the ballpark of the civil rights movement is wholly unfair to both of their ideologies, though. While their opinions differed on what uses of force was appropriate within their freedom struggles, Dr. King never openly denounced the act of rioting, nor did he insist upon "law and order." Instead, he sought to uplift his non-violent tactics in hopes that they could further the civil rights movement. And even then, he is quite regularly quoted by leftists stating that “A riot is the language of the unheard," in the often discarded The Other America

All of this discussion of nonviolence so that they can ignore one of the core reasons why Martin Luther King Jr. deserves to be revered as a fallen leftist, regardless of his stance on reform or violent revolution:

“So today capitalism has outlived its usefulness. It has brought about a system that takes necessities from the masses to give luxuries to the classes. . . . Our economic system is going through a radical change, and certainly this change is needed. I would certainly welcome the day to come when there will be a nationalization of industry.” - Dr. King, early letter to Coretta Scott King

This quote doesn’t necessarily mean that Dr. King was an Anarcho-Syndicalist or Maoist-Third-Worldist or Marxist-Leninist or whatever you are. While he did lean towards Marxist ideals and away, he rejected the worldly understandings within dialectical materialism and replaced it with his religious understandings.

Typically a point of contention or a big no-no amongst many Marxists, this reworking of Marxist ideals into something that has a place within a religious understanding of the world has a historical home within the Black community. Whether it be through the NOI, the Baptist church, or any other predominantly Black congregation, Black people in the U.S. have had to mesh together Anti-Racism, Religion, and Class warfare with one another in order to believe in Black people’s ability to survive this country.

We have had to form our own Avant-Guard movement in which anti-racism, anti-capitalism, anti-imperialism, and the like have all been entrenched with one another after being rejected or put second by white leftists.

While he is most definitely not the first to do this, Dr. King deserves to be celebrated by using his belief as a lightning rod to guide large portions of the Black community to a wider ideology of liberation.

[verushkak70]

Basically everything @sammaggs said, but also

*Why Ray really always has to be the fulcrum

*The "It's not you I do it for" Ray says to Victoria (implying worlds of slashy feelings for Fraser)

*Uncle Tiberius was gay

*Uncle Tiberius also was unhinged somewhat farther along the spectrum of unhingement than Fraser (because how else could he die covered in cabbage leaves? no, actually, I'm not buying the "freak accident" with which Bob explains it)

*"Not dead enough, son": that Fraser's traveling-librarian grandparents were very strict, self-reliant, frugal, & no-nonsense (let's face it, Bob Fraser didn't pull that "teach a child how to build a fire by leaving your 6 year old son alone in the wilderness at night with a piece of flint and a hunk of granite" just out of nowhere)

*Fraser's grandparents were independent & liberal-minded enough to fill Fraser's toy box with "some of the most seditious reading material available through mail order" (but I've always wondered: like what, tho? The Autobiography of Malcolm X? Das Kapital? I highly doubt they would've had copies of things like Abbie Hoffman's "Steal This Book"... But IDK, maybe they did? What would've been seditious 1960s-1970s Canadian reading materials?)

*I admit to some cognitive dissonance wrt the last two co-existing - I find I have to pick one or the other; I can't hold both in my mind simultaneously

*That Mamet in Men With Guns was actually Ray Kowalski undercover - & Fraser saved him before he pulled a Joe Dick - technically I guess that's an AU crossover fanon, tho based on this fic

*This isn't fanon, just my own headcanon - but I've always imagined Fraser got hit with a dead otter by the bully in Tuktoyaktuk because he unforgivably bested that bully in some school achievement, proving how bright Fraser was - like, won a spelling bee, or got first place in a science fair - which "provoked" the bully (who thought he should've won), into advancing on Fraser while swinging a dead otter in their classroom

*That Fraser is actually a secret superhero or supernatural creature like a vampire or a werewolf & that is why he never gets dirty or permanently hurt during the vast majority of his many physical scrapes throughout all the crime fighting with Ray & Ray (including surviving getting shot by RayV - not only surviving, but walking again & generally living as if he doesn't have a bullet permanently lodged next to his spine, even tho he canonically does - & yet, it never acts up in him again - not once! - unless you count the minor back problems he has in Odds After falling off the 2nd-floor roof over the back exit of the poker game at the beginning of the episode)

*Lately my other headcanon - not fanon - is a dS/Hannibal fusion AU where Fraser is Hannibal, Victoria is Bedelia DuMaurier, Welsh is Jack Crawford, & Kowalski is Will... Where Fraser is a gourmand & criminal mastermind who murders people who are rude because they have it coming (for their rudeness alone, of course) & he was the mastermind of the bank robbery for which Victoria drove the getaway car, while Kowalski is undercover trying to find enough evidence to catch Fraser & Fraser is thinking he has finally found a worthy protégé to become his murder husband

With the year of our beloved show's 30th anniversary drawing to a close, time to reflect on our fandom's long and storied history a little! For this blog, one particular question comes to mind:

What are your favorite common* fanons?

Remember, kids: there are no wrong answers except "Bob is a great father actually" and "there is an objectively better Ray". At least one person (me) will find your idea interesting, though I'm willing to gamble (not with money, mind you) that I won't be the only one. If you're shy, try sending your response as an anonymous ask for me to publish!

*uncommon fanons accepted also

[make-me-imagine]

Sometimes, people are just monsters

Plot: When hunting down a notorious cult of murderers, the reader is taken as the most recent victim. Malcolm, guilty and terrified for the readers fate, sets up a plan to find them.

Pairing: Malcolm Bright x G!N Reader

Warnings: Mentions of a made up cult-like group. Culty vibes; blood, weapons, mention of torture-like actions. The reader is drugged and kidnapped (chloroform). Reader and others are tied up in a dungeon like area. Mention of guns, knives, etc. *There is a lot of dialogue in this - I have a problem with not using a lot of dialogue lol

Word Count: ~3.7k

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfireMalcolm Taglist: @cosplayingwitchRequested Taglist: @spuffyfan394

-

Malcolm's shoulder brushes against yours as you stand in the doorway of the mansion. The crowd of people in front of you is denser than you'd hoped, but you aren't surprised. You got a brief description of one of the suspects masks, so at least you weren't going into this too blind.

There had been 4 victims already, only two more were needed. And on Halloween, in three days, they would all be killed. You needed to find the killers, and the victims fast. Time was running out.

"Okay, remember the description of the masks?" Malcolm asked from beside you. You nodded and glanced at him. He nodded in response before turning towards you "Ready?"

You turned to face him as well, he was wearing a simple black mask around his eyes, similar to your own silver one. "Yep." You said while nodding and letting out a breath.

He smiled at you, but you could see the apprehension behind his gaze. Reaching out, he placed his hand gently on your elbow "Be careful, and if you see anything let me know, okay?"

You let out a soft scoff "I should be the one telling you that."

He chuckled "Fair enough."

You smiled at him before turning away, giving him a parting glance, you walked separate ways, and moved into the crowd. Your eyes scanning over everyone's masks.

After around twenty minutes, and no luck, you felt a sense of defeat as you made your way to the other side of the room. Looking around, your eyes locked on the familiar blue eyes of Malcolm. You shook your head lightly, and Malcolm frowned. Walking up to him he let out a small sigh "I got nothing too."

Looking around towards the crowd, your eyes crossed over the same masks once again. As a slower song began to play, you heard Malcolm hum from beside you. Turning to look at him he smiled at you "Wanna dance?"

"Dance?" You asked softly, surprised by the sudden question.

"Yeah. We can get a view of more people from the middle of the room." His reasoning wasn't entirely inaccurate, but, it was mostly just an excuse so he could dance with you.

You could see this, but also noted the fact that it was true you could get eyes on more people. Smiling lightly you nodded. "Alright."

Smiling in return, he took your hand in his as you both walked to the dance floor. As you began to dance, you noted the way your heart began to beat rapidly in your chest. You were even more nervous now than when you were looking out for a serial killer.

"I don't know the last time I came to a party like this not looking for a killer." Malcolm said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

You chuckled lightly "That makes two of us. Except, unlike you, I'm never invited to any unless I'm looking for a killer."

He smiled and shrugged his shoulder "Maybe we can go to one together some time. That would certainly get my mother off my back. She's insulted every time I refuse to attend one of her charity gala's."

You smiled at this, noting the heat rising up your neck and to your ears at his invitation. "But would you still be miserable having to attend one?" You asked amused and he smiled.

"Not if you were there with me." He said honestly with his familiar smile, which you returned, hoping the flush of your face was not noticeable.

"Smooth." You chuckled out and he shrugged with a sly smile.

As you continued to smile, you glanced behind Malcolm towards the back of the room. And as your eyes caught on a mask that matched the description of your killers, your face fell.

Malcolm, noticing this glanced back "What?"

"I see one." You said with a low voice.

Malcolm spun you around and eyed the back of the room, but saw no one as people passed in front of him. "Where?"

"By the bar at the back of the room." You said as you both looked around.

"I don't see them." He said.

"We need to go." You said as Malcolm nodded, immediately letting you go as you both walked different ways and exited the dancing crowd, making your way towards the back of the room.

Malcolm could not deny the disappointment he felt as he had to pull away from you. But he moved his focus to the killers as his eyes grazed over everyone who crossed his path.

As you moved through a small crowd of people, you saw a taller figure, wearing a silver mask with horns, pointed ears and a pointed chin. By their side was a young woman, with a smile being led into the back room by the figure.

"Malcolm, one of the followers is taking a girl through the door at the back of the room." You said into your ear piece as you quickly followed.

'Wait for me!" Malcolm said as he pushed his way through the crowd.

"There's no time!" You said slightly panicked as you moved through the door to follow. You needed to get to them before the girl was taken.

Entering into a darkened hallway, you quickly made your way down the hall and around the corner. You let out a small gasp as you halted. In front of you, was standing a tall figure, clad in a black suit. On their face was a gold mask - the chin was pointed and the face distorted, there are long curled horns curling out and away from the mask, with pointed ears on the side.

Behind him was standing two other people, wearing the silver mask, the features less defined. And leaning against the wall, was the young woman, who until this moment, you had thought was a victim. But as she was now donning one of the silver masks, you understood.

The one in the gold mask was the leader. And this, was a trap.

"Malcolm!-" Just as you started to warn Malcolm, a hand came around you from behind, as an odorous fabric was placed over your mouth and nose. Panicking, you elbowed the figure, and pulled away.

You felt dizzy from the fumes, but began to fight back. But before you could, you felt someone smash something into the side of your head, causing your vision to go black as you fell to the ground.

Malcolm, having heard your cry cut off suddenly, felt panic take over as he ran down into the back room and down the hall. As he rounded the corner, he saw another empty hall, but lying on the ground was your earpiece, now crushed, and beside it, a piece of white fabric.

Leaning down, he picked it up. Bringing it to his face, he smelt the familiar smell of chloroform. Quickly pulling out his phone, he ran down the hall, listening and looking for any sign of you.

As Gil answered the phone Malcolm's voice came out panicked "It was a trap, they took Y/n!"

Bursting through the back door of the mansion, he looked around, seeing no one and nothing. He let out a desperate sigh as he realized that you were gone. They had their fifth victim.

- - - - -

Malcolm fiddled with his hands anxiously as he stared at the crime board. His eyes scanned over the picture of you, now pinned to the board next to those of the other victims. He let out a shaky breath as he wracked his brain trying to think of what to do.

This group, this, cult of sorts, had been brutally sacrificing six people every year for three years now. One victim kidnapped each day, six days leading up to Halloween. And on Halloween, they would kill all of them before displaying them in a public space to be found Halloween night.

What worried Malcolm the most, was that there was no apparent reasoning behind these murders. No meaning, no intention, just brutal murders to scare people. The leader was smart, allowing the group to be kept hidden and safe each year. And Malcolm knew too little to feel confident he could find them in time to save you and the other kidnapped victims.

Malcolm's eyes graze over the pictures of the previous years victims, all of whom were brutally murdered and tortured. And now, as Malcolm pictured you being one of the victims, he felt his stomach clench from the thought. Guilt swelled through him as he scolded himself for being to slow in getting to you before you were taken. If he was just a bit faster...

As the door opened behind him, he spun around, eyeing Gil hopefully. But he felt his heart sink a bit when he saw Gil shake his head. "They must have either turned off Y/n's phone or destroyed it. It can't be tracked." Gil said stockily as he closed the door behind him.

He watched Malcolm as he turned back to the board. He hadn't changed out of his suit, nor had be left the precinct at all in the last twelve hours since you had been taken. "Bright-"

"I'm not going home Gil." Malcolm cut him off.

Gil let out a sigh as he walked over to Malcolm "I know kid. I wasn't gonna suggest it." As Malcolm looked over at Gil, Gil smiled softly "I was just gonna say, we'll find them." He placed his hand lightly on Malcolm shoulder, hoping to comfort him at least a little.

Malcolm smiled as well, though there was hardly any emotion behind it apart from sadness. Gil knew how Malcolm felt about you, and how hard he had been trying to get himself to do something about it. Gil even encouraged it. So both of them knew how much this was effecting him.

Malcolm looked back at the board, a thought popping into his head "I think I have an idea Gil." Looking over at Gil, whose brow was now raised, he hoped that it would work. "They set up a trap to catch one of us. Meaning they must have someone on the inside that knew about our investigation. It'll make them cocky, make them think we're scared. So, what if we give them the opportunity to take me as well. But this time, we'll be expecting it, but they wont know it."

He could see the apprehension on Gil's face, so he quickly continued. "They're arrogant. SO arrogant that they took a NYPD detective. They've been gradually taking higher risk victim's each year. So, lets give them another one."

- - - - -

You looked around the dingy room, eyeing each blacked-out window and door for a possible exit. The four previous kidnapped victims were all tied up around you, all unconscious. You had been too, you weren't sure for how long, but you knew the sixth victim had yet to be taken.

From the time you woke up, you had been chained up against the wall. You attempted to ask question, trying to get information that might help you. But the members responded by hitting you, mostly with their fists, but one used a cattle prod as they worked to try and shut you up.

There were two cult members now, sitting in the corner of the room. Every few minutes they would look over at you before glancing over at the door. They seemed to know something you didn't. They were waiting for something, or someone. It didn't take long before you figured out what it was.

As the door swung open, two people came in, dragging someone between them, with a bag over their head.

'Oh no.' You thought, they got their sixth victim. That means you didn't have long to get out of here. As the bag was ripped off of the victims head, you felt your eyes widened and heart start pounding. They had a large bruising welt on their forehead as they groggily looked around. 'Oh God. Malcolm?'

As his eyes fluttered open, they immediately found you. You could see the relief cross his eyes as he was dragged over to the wall, not to far from you. He looked at you again as his hands were chained to the wall.

Malcolm's eyes grazed over you and he felt a pang of guilt and anger as he saw blood and bruises across your face. Looking around the room, he saw the other victims, unconscious, and in worse shape.

You could see something in his eyes, the way he looked at you, that told you not to worry. And as the cult members turned away, you saw the smallest of smiles twitch at his lips. This confirmed it for you. He had a plan. This was his plan.

A few moments passed before the door opened again. Entering the room, was two more cult members, followed by the leader, donning his familiar gold mask.

He stood in the center of the room, eyeing the two of you for a few moments before he smiled. "I've had the opportunity to take the lives of many people. Spoiled rich children, the homeless from the street, even simple workers of the city. But now, two police officers. Well, consider me honored." He spoke in a mocking tone.

You glared at him in silence before hearing Malcolm clear his throat. He smiled at the man "Actually, they're a detective, and I'm a profiler." He corrected.

The man simply smiled "Even better then."

"How'd you know we were coming for you?" You finally spoke. Wanting to know how they knew to set a trap for you.

The man eyed you before taking a few steps closer "I have many devoted followers. Many of whom would surprise you."

"Meaning one of your followers works for the NYPD." Malcolm spoke again, confirming his own deduction, before looking over at you. "That's less than ideal."

You scoffed before looking around the room at the several members, wondering if it was any of them. You tried to see if you recognized them, before your eyes caught on one figure in the back. You let out a scoff that earned Malcolm's attention.

"You." You said, as you made direct eye contact with a woman at the back. "You started at the station as a secretary two months ago. Just enough time to learn about the investigation. Kelly, isn't it?"

The leader turned and looked back at the women, who simply smirked at you, impressed by her own deception. You looked back at the leader. "Clever." You voice held a hint of sarcasm, that was clearly missed by everyone but Malcolm.

The man let out a chuckle before crouching down, and looking into your eyes, "Very." He spoke as though stroking his own ego. Suddenly reaching out towards you, you moved back as much as you could, recoiling from his attempted touch.

"How long do you think you'll be able to keep doing this each year?" Malcolm said, trying to take the mans attention away from you.

The man stopped, his finger barely grazing your chin, before he dropped his hand and stood back up. Turning to Malcolm now, he spoke candidly. "It is true, that we have overstayed our welcome here. The NYPD getting this close shows me that. So, this will be our last year here. Then we will move on, to somewhere new, to continue growing, we've not finished our evolution."

"Evolution?" You questioned, "Into what?"

"Ohh," the man breathed out as he looked back over at you with a wide grin that made the hair on your neck stand up. "Into something powerful." He spoke lowly as he moved closer to you again, grabbing a knife from a nearby table.

"But don't misunderstand detectives, I have no wish to be a God, like those news stories assume. No, no." He crouched down in front of you again, before placing the by your neck. "There are people who are healers, or protectors, like yourselves. But sometimes- sometimes, people are just monsters. I don't want to be worshiped, or loved, I want, to be feared. There is nothing more powerful than fear." Leaning closer, he brought his mouth next to your ear, making your skin crawl "I want to be the monster people look for in the shadows." Pressing the knife into your neck, you winced as you felt it break your skin.

"Whats the point in being a monster if you don't have a name?" Malcolm asked, as he watched the blood drip from your neck, anger and fear washing over him. The man looked over at Malcolm. "You stay in the shadows, you and the others. But, people wont fear you if they don't know what to fear. So why stay so hidden?" The man stood up again and walked over to Malcolm as he continued talking. "I mean, the public has coined a few different names, but none of them really convey...fear. I think most people see you as more of an...urban legend."

"Oh I'll be a legend." The man sneered as he crouched down towards Malcolm now, bringing the knife to his neck this time. "My story will go on for years to come, you'll see."

"You wanna know what I think?" Malcolm asked. The man simply tilted his head a bit, Malcolm continued. "I think you're going to be forgotten." Malcolm voice was now laced with contempt.

The man let out a huff of air as he stood, but Malcolm continued. "You and your followers are going to be arrested, and imprisoned, and forgotten by the public. No one will fear you."

The man smiled, amused at Malcolm's comments. "I think you're the one who is going to be forgotten."

Malcolm smirked "Maybe. But at least, for a while, I'll be remembered as the one who caught you. Because you did what everyone like you does. You made a mistake."

"And what mistake did I make, huh?"

Malcolm smiled "You took them." He motioned his head towards you a bit, and you felt your heart beat a bit heavier as Malcolm glanced over at you with a a look that held more emotion than you were expecting. Looking back at the man he tilted his head a bit "Plus, you were also stupid enough to take me, when it was clearly a trap."

You felt your chest clench at that moment, as he confirmed what you were hoping. The members of the group had no time to react before a group of police, headed by Gil, J.T. and Dani stormed into the room, guns raised. The followers all staggered back before they fell to their knees in surrender as the leader stepped backwards in alarm.

Taking the chance, he turned to you before running over, grabbing you, he pulled you away from the wall far enough to hide behind you. You gasped in surprise as he brought the knife to your neck. He stared Gil down as J.T. unchained Malcolm. Malcolm stared at you in fear as the knife pressed against your skin.

The man's voice came our rushed and panicked "Stay back, or I'll kill them right now!"

Gil looked at you and you nodded ever so slightly, signaling him that you knew what to do. A moment later, you smacked your head back into the mans face, causing his mask to fall off and for him to stumbled back. The knife cut your neck slightly before you threw yourself away from him, allowing Gil to have aim if he tried anything.

Gil bounded forward and pointed his gun down at the man, who, on his back, gave in with a defeated sigh. Dropping his knife, he held up his hands in surrender before being dragged up by Dani.

Malcolm knelt down in front of you and gently cupped your face in his hands as he checked your neck. Meeting his eyes he smiled "It's nothing."

You smiled at him as he began to unchain you. "So. Getting yourself captured by a crazy man in a mask to help save me? That's where we're at now?"

He let out a huff of laughter as he helped you stand. "I've done crazier for less important things."

You tilted your head and smiled at the comment as you brushed off your clothes. Looking around, you watched as paramedics rushed in to attend to the other victims. Letting out a sigh of relief you looked back at Malcolm. "Thank you Malcolm."

He smiled at you, "Anytime."

This time you laughed as you began to make your way out of the room. "Let's hope this is the last though."

"I don't know, I kind of like you owing me." He said with amusement as you made your way out of the room.

You laughed out. "Owing you?"

"Yeah! I saved you, now you owe me!"

"Well technically Gill saved me." You countered.

"Yes, buuut, I was the one who came up with this plan to find you and then save you."

Smiling a bit you let out a small amused laugh. As you exited the building into the cold nights air, you stopped, turning to Malcolm. "Okay, fair enough. What exactly is it that I owe you?"

He smiled before taking a small step closer. "Last night, while we were dancing, before you, ya' know, got kidnapped. I mentioned us going to one of my moms galas together." You nodded, having some idea of where this was going. "It just so happens she's holding one net week. Sooo, be my date?" He asked with a cheeky smile.

You couldn't hold back the smile that tugged at your lips. You kept silent for a moment as you stared into his eyes with an almost challenging gaze. "Alright. I'll be your date Malcolm." You agreed, making his smile grow a bit bigger.

Before he could respond, Gil called your name. Looking over, you see him waving you over to an ambulance, surely to get checked out.

You pulled your eyes away from Malcolm as you walked past him. But, turning back to look at him briefly, you smiled at him, sure that the heat rising up your neck and ears was visible as he grinned back at you.

The promising thoughts of your near future, helped to soothe the trauma of the recent past. Your job was hard, and full of a lot of danger. But, you knew that as long as you were on this team - and as long as Malcolm was there - you would always make your way back home. Because, it's true, sometimes, people are just monsters. But, sometimes, people also good.

xx End xx

I don't know what that ending was, but I was feeling it lol.

I hope you enjoyed this, and if you did please consider reblogging!

If you'd like to be added to my Malcolm Bright taglist, let me know~