#never doubt the power of the latina mind

[holyshonks]

As Potluck2024 draws to a close, I dedicate this to @poisonheadcrabsalesman. May I present: my stick figure. Thanks for organizing this, Stumpy!

[delulu-hours]

My Scholar

Paring: Derek Morgan x Latina!reader

Summary: Derek's girl was his scholar. She was the perfect smart girl who always seemed to doubt her ability. So when she called, saying she had a possible theory to help with their case, he never once doubted her.

A/n: I hope you guys enjoy this little imagine. It takes place in season one episode 15.

"Morgan," Derek answered the ringing of his phone; his eyes didn't look away from the image of the dead woman on the screen staring back at him. He hadn't even looked to see who was calling him.

"Hey, cariño." The corner of his lips quirked upwards as he closed the laptop, getting the dead woman out of his mind. He glanced around and noticed the rest of his team was busy, so he got up and walked to get himself some coffee.

"Hey there, mama." Morgan could already picture the sweet smile that would pull at her lips and the slight rosy color that would adorn her cheeks. "Everything okay?"

"Peachy," The voice on the other end hummed. "I just missed you." He hummed, knowing that they hadn't been able to spend much time with each other. Working at the BAU, Morgan was always traveling and working cases, which involved being away for long periods. It also didn't help that his girlfriend was still finishing her schooling.

"How are classes going?" He watched as the mug slowly filled with the black coffee. A groan on the other end caused him to chuckle.

"I'm calling for that reason." He raised an eyebrow before taking the mug that was filled with coffee. "I know you're busy working on the Keystone killer, but I think there's something that I might be able to help you with." He could hear some flipping of papers and a few Spanish curse words.

"Y/n," Derek stopped what he was doing and shifted his phone back in his hands. "What are you talking about, beautiful?" He knew his girl was on her way to working for a Ph.D. in Criminology and Criminal Justice. A smart pretty woman he knew so he wasn't going to stop her.

"His MO has changed since he started up killing," He wasn't surprised that she was keeping up with the case of the Keystone Killer. "I know. Before you say anything, I got some more information from the police as I managed to get my professor to help get more updated information for my essay." He hummed to let her know he was listening as she continued. "Well, what if he changed his MO because he had to? The change came from the need to adapt."

"Hold up," Morgan stopped her from rambling. "You're onto something, Scholar. Just hold that pretty little thought of yours. The team might need to hear this."

"Wait, qué? (what)" She stumbled over her words. "No, Derek, you tell them. Besides, it's just a thought; I don't even know how accurate this thought is."

"You need to give yourself more credit than that," He lingered behind the door that played a barrier between his team and him. "You are a set of fresh eyes. Trust me when I say that your idea would make sense, but I need you to be the one to explain this." It was quiet, and he felt Hotch looking at him as he opened the door but didn't enter.

"Fine." He smirked as he walked in. All eyes were now on him.

"I think I got us something that would help." Derek moved the phone from his ear before placing the call on speaker. "Do your magic, beautiful." He sat in his seat as he placed the phone on the table. He ignored the confusion from everyone as his girl took a deep breath.

"Okay, uhm, where do I start?" The voice was soft, and the rest of the team looked confused. They half expected to hear Garcia's voice by Morgan's choice of words. They only knew one person he used those nicknames for. "This might seem un poco raro (a little weird), but I've been studying the case of the Keystone Killer, and with the recent evidence gathered, it's evident that the unsub had changed his MO. Before it was a rope, which gave him the pleasure to be involved and feel his power over his victims. It also explains why he strangled his victims. "

"Why?" Gideon spoke up, trying to find where this unknown person was trying to get at. "Why change his MO if he isn't getting anything out of it."

"That was exactly what I thought when he used the flex cuffs and suffocation. That also includes taking in why he had began to knock some of his recent victims out as well, which he hadn't done before." Some typing could be heard before a small ping took over Morgan's phone. "I asked myself why he knocked out the victims when he didn't have an issue over it before, and it made me realize that maybe he had no choice. Before, he could overpower his victims, but what if now he couldn't? I mean, he could've sustained some injury that left him weak or something. A stroke. Maybe even a heart disease."

"That would explain the sudden need to use the flex cuffs and why he began suffocating his victims." Reid nodded as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Because he couldn't control her physically while she was awake." Ellie sounded impressed as they took in this new information.

"Exactamente! (exactly)" They heard a slight finger snap on the other end of the phone. Morgan couldn't help but shake his head as he took in his girl's excitement. "I mean, think about it; why else would he change what made him get off? The feeling of having the lives of his victims slowly leave their bodies as he strangled them. Seeing the fear in their eyes until they died and the power it gave him." If they could see the girl now, they would see the mess she was surrounded by. The papers on the bed, open books, and photos on the ground. She had been following this case since his latest victim, and it didn't help that she had written about the Keystone Killer in one of her previous assignments. "If he did sustain some sort of injury, there has to be some record of it in the hospital."

"So what are we talking about," Derek asked. "This must have happened after the middle of 1988 in Philadelphia."

"That's a lot of hospital records." Reid shook his head

"That is where I got stuck." She let out a small huff.

"Call our girl Friday." Gideon pointed at Derek, who gave him a short nod. Derek wasted no time picking up his phone and leaving the room. He took her off of speaker and placed the phone to his ear.

"You're a genius, baby." He placed a kiss on the phone, which earned him a laugh that he loved.

"I'm glad I could be of some help, cariño."

"I'll call you later when your theory leads us to the scumbag."

"Well, I hope you catch him and hurry back home. I miss my handsome man." He smiled as he heard the slight pout in her voice.

~~~~~~~~~

Y/n messed with the sweater hem I was waiting for as she waited for Morgan. He texted her, saying he wanted her to meet with him later tonight at his job. She leaned on her car as she bit my lip, nervous to be here. "There she is." She perked up at his voice and turned around. A smile tugged at her lips as she rushed over to him, throwing herself onto him and pulling him into a hug. Wrapping her legs around his torso, she peppered him with kisses as he chuckled. A slight stumble backward, but he had a hand on her thigh, close to her ass.

"I missed you, mi amor. (my love)" She placed a kiss on his lips. A hum vibrated through her as he kissed her back. His touch was soft as he took her in. The way she felt in his arms.

"You don't say." He pulled back a bit and smirked at her. She saw the amusement dancing in those beautiful eyes as he placed his forehead on hers. She gave him a big smile as she closed her eyes, soaking in his touch and his body's warmth. She had missed him so much. Morgan couldn't say much himself as he, too, missed his girl. He missed her smile. The soft touches he enjoyed after the long days at the office. Or the way she bit her lip as she was focused on her schoolwork. "I missed you too, Angel."

"Ready to go?" She asked as she unwrapped her legs from him. As much as Morgan didn't want to let her go, he had called her for a reason.

"Actually, some people would like to meet you." He took her hand in his and pulled her with him.

"A mí? (me)" He smirked at the confused look on her face as she followed behind him.

"Yes, you." Since solving the case, his team had been bugging him about the unknown girl who helped with the case. She frowned a bit and looked at the building they were walking to. "Don't think too hard with the pretty head of yours." He nudged her with his shoulder, and she rolled her eyes at him. It was a mutual decision to keep their relationship private, so Morgan wasn't surprised that his team was confused and wanted to know who she was. He also had no intentions of hiding their relationship. They never asked him about it, and he never bothered to bring it up.

"Oh, tu mamá me llamó. (your mom called me)" She slightly swung their arms back and forth as they kept walking.

"My mom?" Dating a little over a year allowed Morgan to understand enough Spanish to connect the dots. Y/n speaks a lot when they're together; however, it is usually mixed with English.

"Yeah, She wanted to know if we were still going down Jamacia later this year. I told her we planned to go, but it wasn't certain yet."

"Was that it?" She nodded, and Derek hummed.

~~~~~~~~~

His team watched Morgan talk to the girl who stood close to him. Their hands interlaced as Derek's smile grew from whatever she said. "Derek is down bad." JJ looked amused as she took in this new side of her teammate.

"Did someone tell Garica?" Ellie asked softly as she glanced around, not finding the blonde anywhere. "I'm sure she'd love to meet the mystery woman." Reid shook his head before he could say anything. Morgan and the mystery women neared them.

"Guys, I would like to introduce you to my beautiful, sweet, intelligent girl, Y/n." The woman beside Morgan gave them a bashful smile as a slight blush dusted her cheeks, embarrassed by the compliment her boyfriend showered her with.

"It's nice to meet you." JJ was the first to hold his hand out to her. "Heard you were of great help with the case." Y/n took her hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Encantada, (nice to meet you)" She nodded at them as she took in the rest of Derek's team. She could tell who they all were just by how Morgan described them. "I didn't do much, but I was glad my theory helped JJ." JJ looked slightly surprised. She knew who she was. Y/n took in the man who sat on his chair; his was longer than the rest of the men in the team and tucked behind his ear. As expected, he wore a white button-up shirt with a black tie and a burgundy sweater vest. She knew right away that man was Spencer Reid.

"You mentioned that you had been working on the Keystone Killer case," Reid shifted in his seat. "Why is that?"

"It was for my class." She smiled at Reid. "I've written an essay about him before, so when he started killing again, I decided to follow along and use it for another assignment." She could tell that Reid was intrigued with what she was saying. "If you like Spencer, I can have Morgan give it to you when I finish it."

"Really?" He sat up straight in his seat. "I'd love to see what you have down. I read the small portion you sent Morgan and thought it was interesting."

"Claro que sí. (of course)" She nodded, delighted to share her work with him. She knew she would get along well if Reid were anything Derek described him as. Morgan watched, pleased to see his girl getting along with his team.

"Look at this," Derek threw an arm around her. "My nerd and pretty boy geeking out." A small groan left his lips as Y/n elbowed him in the stomach. His team was amused as she rolled her eyes at him, knowing she didn't even hit him that hard.

"Don't be jealous that they like me better than you, amor." She teased back at him. "Everyone loves me."

"Y/n?!" A cheer caused her to turn around as she took in the blonde-haired girl who rushed over to her.

"Pen!" She held her arms open as Penelope hugged her tightly. "It's good to see you again." She placed a friendly kiss on her cheeks as she smiled at her.

"Derek didn't mention you were stopping by!" She gushed as she shot a slight glare at Derek. Derek just chuckled as he knew how much Garcia adored his girl. He didn't blame her. Y/n was amazing. Truly.

"Well, Miss, Y/n," Hotch's voice had Y/n look over at him, a small smile on his lips as he nodded at her. "Good work with the case." He took his briefcase and looked at the rest of his team. "I'm going to head out for the night." They said their byes and watched him leave.

"It was a pleasure working with you briefly." Gideon gave her a slight nod as he followed Hotch, leaving for the day. The smile never left Y/n lips as she looked at Morgan, who gave her a wink.

"Told ya you did good." He gently rubbed her cheek. "My scholar."

[doulayogimama]

I truly believe in the power of therapy (I have a Psych degree), but I have never really had a therapist that I thought was genuinely helping me. At least not that I could afford.

I stayed with my longest T for 2.5 years but that was because she only charged me $27/hr, not because I thought she was really providing the full scope of therapy. Which I mean… I guess jokes on me, cause she only charged $27/hr🫠 (initially found her on better help)

My first therapist ever didn’t show up to 2/4 sessions (and zero notice that she couldn’t make it) and I had to fire her.

My last therapist (god I sound 🍌 but maybe my 30s is just about me accepting my banana-ness unconditionally) was a truly nice and insightful person, but she also said things like “living in sin” when describing her daughter having lived with her NOW HUSBAND for a year while they were engaged.

I literally followed up with, “Well, I lived in sin for SEVEN YEARS before I got married, so I get it.” And she was like 🙃👍🏽🫠

I really try to be open minded and not judge people by their covers, but I saw this middle aged, very white ladies profile photo. She’s a practitioner in FLORIDA. She referred to her grandparent as Meemaw (so very southern upbringing) and when I talked about the church being a source of trauma for me, it seemed like* she was like hmm, how can we reverse this? When I talked about our neighbors harassment and Kevin and I wanting to list our condo after only a year here, she was like… really? And she was wrong to question me on that and make me doubt it. I ended up regretting not going with my gut — that someone of her generation/southern culture would not serve me in an overall positive way.

The only therapist I ever had that I felt seen by and who did an amazing job was a Latina woman around my age. Maybe like 5-8 years older, so around Kevin’s age. But she was our marriage counselor on Better Help before we got married (she’s no longer there and is PP) and she was just… outstanding.

I think I need a Latina therapist. After we sell, I think I’m going to just pay her Private practice rate because she’s worth it. I think that a person of my generation/ethnicity can relate to my issues and help me navigate them from an outsiders perspective in the most effective way possible.

[strideofpride]

The Corruption of Amy Sosa

I just finished rewatching Superstore and something I really noticed this time around is the subtle handling of Amy's ascent into power (I apologize if this all sounds a little dictator-y, I first learned about this stuff in relation to global systems and am applying it to a big box store lmao) and acquisition of wealth, and how it corrupts her against the people she's worked directly with for years. I know there was tons of meta in season 6 in regards to Amy & Jonah and her (understandable) commitment issues, but I've never really seen anybody talk about this part of her character.

Once Amy becomes manager in the second half of season 4 (and gains a salary many times greater than her employees), she subtly starts siding more and more with the side of management (I use the term management throughout but I don't mean store managers - I mean corporate) over the side of the people she's worked alongside with for fifteen years. When the employees of store 1217 want to start a union, Amy is against it, despite having pushed for workers' rights regularly over the course of the first three and a half seasons. Her intentions are initially presented as good, with the audience knowing what Amy knows and the rest of the employees (minus Dina and Jonah) don't: corporate is looking to shut down a store in each district and union efforts would make corporate's choice easy. Amy claims throughout the episode that she is only trying to stop the union efforts to prevent the store from closing and save everyone's job, even pushing Jonah to kill morale for the union at the initial exploratory meeting (and while Jonah does go through with it, it should be noted that he is heavily uncomfortable with the idea throughout the episode).

A lesser show probably would've left things at that and let Amy continue to stay the "good" boss. But Superstore doesn't. Instead, after Jonah has successfully killed morale and therefore the union prospects, she asks Jonah for the names of the employees who were most gung ho for the union, even positioning her pen as if she's going to write them down. It's jarring both for the audience and for Jonah, who turns against Amy in that moment. He goes back to Sandra (the de facto leader of the season 4 efforts) and becomes the first employee to sign his union card. Long before Amy's commitment issues even come on the radar, this to me is the first crack in the glass of Jonah and Amy's relationship.

After corporate sets up an ICE Raid that ends with Mateo being detained, Amy becomes pro union once again, heavily involved with union efforts from behind the scenes. However, when tech company Zephra buys out Cloud 9 (a move which completely squanders any chance of a union gaining recognition), she once again trusts corporate, even going as far as trying to minimize questions about workers' rights at the store's virtual meeting with new CEO Kira Moon. It's almost as if having a woman of color CEO instead of a white man makes Zephra a "good" corporation in Amy's mind, one she's willing to give the benefit of doubt (of course, there are no good corporations). (Also, I'm not the right person to write this, but there is definitely more meta to be written on how women of color in the show perpetuate the systems they are in instead of changing them, and I assume the show's messaging there was that you can't change a system from within. As a fellow Latina, District Manager Maya sees potential in & supports Amy in a way Jeff and Laurie never would've, but she is also very anti-union and does nothing to help the exploitation of the people below her overall.)

At the end of season 5, Amy ends up getting offered an executive position at Zephra headquarters out in California, as a Cloud 9 liaison. She's only offered the job because she is Latina and corporate is trying to surface level diversify their C-suite, but she takes the job anyway. Now, I will just say that Amy taking the job with Zephra is extremely valid. She's absolutely right in what she tells Jonah: she is a single mom with no family connections or degree and this job is her only real chance at a better life. It's not right that that's the case, but Amy didn't invent capitalism. But by taking that job, she does position herself against everyone at Store 1217 in an even more solid manner than when she was simply their manager.

We all know what happens next, Amy leaves for California, Jonah rightfully breaking up with her after she balks at the idea of getting married again (I know the common narrative is that Amy was the one who ended things but that's not actually how things play out - it is Jonah's choice no to move to California, Jonah's choice not to do long distance after Amy basically begs him to - both very understandable choices because as he points out "what else could [Amy] need to know" before making a long term commitment considering they've been dating for years, live together, and are raising Parker together).

Amy comes back at the end of season 6 after a call from Cheyenne asking about a rumor of Zephra closing all the Cloud 9 stores. Amy does some digging, learning that Cloud 9 will be mainly moving to online shopping, only 5% of stores staying open. She comes back to St. Louis to try to help 1217 become a part of that 5%, a noble but ultimately failed effort. Initially, 1217 gets some good news, the store won't be closing entirely, Zephra will be keeping it around to turn into a fulfillment center. But when Amy asks about jobs, it becomes clear that almost everyone will be let go. Except Amy's job will be fine, of course, the Zephra exec assures her. Amy looks back at the 1217 employees, the people she worked alongside with for seventeen years, her "family" as she calls them. "No, it won't. Cause I quit."

Amy so easily could've stayed and kept her job. It probably would've made the most sense from a logical point of view. She was making an executive's salary, a nearly impossible thing to come by without a college degree. She had uprooted her children's lives for that salary, left her hometown for that salary, broke Jonah's heart for that salary. But in that moment, looking back at the faces that kept her going for seventeen years, the people she practically went through hell with, the people who were there for her in a way a salary never would be, ...that salary isn't worth it anymore. It's not worth it to make all that money while her "family" is out of work. It's not worth losing her soul over that salary.

To me, Amy choosing to quit her Zephra job in solidarity with her fellow Cloud 9 "family" is just as much an important part of her character arc and redemption as her apologizing and offering to wait for Jonah. The ending wouldn't have been nearly as good if Amy and Jonah had gotten back together, but she continued to work for the corporation that put all of her friends out of a job.

The show never takes a rosy view of retail; they do a good job of keeping the show fun while constantly reminding you how much the job actually sucks. But the show does hammer home that when you are working in a job as soul-sucking as retail, a job where management will never care about you over their bottom line, all the workers have is each other and their solidarity.

Superstore's main message is that retail is a shitty job but the people who do it are still human beings who deserve things like respect and living wages and health insurance.

And that's progressive as hell.

[vampiresuns]

Aelius Anatole Radošević De Silva

Anatole has changed a bit as a character since i was around the first time, so he’s getting re introduced. His open to make friends.

art by @elizastarkart​

Name: Aelius Anatole Radoševic De Silva. He has two surnames because his mother is latina. He is a mixed Latine-Slav, with family that is all latine, vesuvian, and slavic. People he’s friend’s with call him Anatole (russian/greek pronunciation, he doesn’t acknowledge the French one). Only people he has a strictly professional relationship with, and his uncle call him Aelius.

‘Aelius’ means sun, while ‘Anatole’ means sunrise. He’s fully aware of this, he chose his name himself.

His nicknames are:

‘Nana’ is the most common nickname, and the one most people use.

His mother calls him Lilito, Nana, Nanito, Toly, Tolito, Tortolito.

His father calls him Lily or Lilu.

Toly, Tolytoly or Tolito are nicknames used by his maternal grandmother, his aunt, and his Vesuvian family.

He will not mind if you want to call him Toly, but you cannot call him Lily/Lilu if you’re not his father.

Asra came up with Nanatole, which he doesn’t like but lets Asra call him anyway. Asra also came up with Nana Banana and that is absolutely forbidden.

Family: on his father’s side both the Radošević, who are slavic (yugoslavic, specifically), and the Cassano, a prominent Vesuvian family who has had a hold of the Consulship for years.

On his mother side, the De Silva.

His father’s name is Vladislav, but everyone calls him Vlad, he’s an alchemist, a polymath, and works in what is most similar to biochemical engineering. He has one bother, named Valeriy, who you, however, might now as Valerius. Vlad’s biggest personality trait is being head over heels in love with his wife, and adoring his son more than he thought it was humanly possible to care about someone.

His mother’s name is Louisa De Silva (if you want to add her mother’s surname, it’s Lascal). The L-o-u spelling was a registry mistake she never changed. She moved half across the world while her native country suffer a military-civilian dictatorship to study Medicine. She swore never to go back as long as vestiges of said dictatorship remained in the country. She has two sisters: Paris, who lives in Vesuvia, and Alma, who remained with her parents out of her own choosing. Her medical experience include having been a volunteer war doctor. She didn’t change her surname when she got married.

The Radošević (pronounced Radozheveech) and the Cassano have been entangled families by friendship for generations upon generations, with some marriages between them. Notoriously: Vlad and Val’s father married a Cassano, Matilda, and his bother Mircea, Anatole’s great uncle, also married a Cassano: Florentino. Mircea’s brother and Matilda Cassano died when Vlad and Val were children still, so him and Florentino brought them up.

The Radošević are an overall eccentric family (think the european Addams family), whom are noted for: one, their self-sufficiency/self-preservation, which comes out in a very ‘eccentric people of the world unite’ manner. They appreciate people with character. Two, their leanings towards trades/professions, they do not conceive not doing anything (work hard to play hard). The Cassano, while sharing the quirk, they add the zest for life. It’s like they grabbed the Radošević and told them “you have forgotten how to live and we will remind you how.” Both of them are ridden with racially ambiguous bastard you cannot kill in any way that matters. They simply refuse to. Someone (either the courtiers or Lucio) compared them to roaches, they took it as a compliment.

This will tell you a lot about Anatole’s character.

On a last note, Anatole’s an only child. He has a good relationship with his parents, albeit marked by a sense of distance, solely because he was privately tutored from age 15 and on, which required him to travel a fair share. He was an argumentative teenager, but always cherished whenever he could see his parents. The older he gets, the closer they all become.

Favourite Food: Cake

Favourite drink: Coffee, in general.

Favourite Flower: Iris

Birthday: Nov 1st

Age: 29 (I calculate his age as if he had been born in 1991)

Zodiac:

Sun: Scorpio

Moon: Virgo

Rising: Libra

Mercury & Mars: Scorpio

Venus: Virgo

Patron arcana: Strength & Ace of Swords

Strength

Upright: inner strength, bravery, compassion, focus, Reversed: self doubt, weakness, insecurity      

Ace of Swords

Upright: breakthrough, clarity, sharp mind, Reversed: confusion, brutality, chaos

MBTI Type: INTJ-A

Gender: Transmasculine, but Nonbinary. Uses He/Him pronouns only

Orientation: Identifies as NBLM.

LIs: Julian, Muriel, @ilyamatic​‘s Andrico, @thelazaretmakesmesad​‘s Vishal.

“The sun-like strategist with a solution for everything, and a whole lot of hope in the future.”

More details under the cut!

Physical appearance:

art by @lesbianarcana​

5′4. As you can see in the sprite down below, while he’s slim but with muscle, out of doing a moderate to high level of physical activity. The man has a nice waist and inherited his mother’s hips, which he’s very proud of. He likes his legs and his butt the most about himself

Dark brown eyes, long eyelashes. His hair is naturally black, but he dyes it blond.

Has a mole over his right eyebrow, on the left side of the bridge of his nose, and on his left jaw. He has freckles.

An horizontal scar on his nose, which he got by getting hit with a wooden scaffold square in the face. His nose wasn’t broken out of sheer dumb luck. He has a smaller cut on his cheekbone, which was done by a fencing sabre which lacked the proper tip protection/button. It was done onto him by someone else.

The nose scar is how he met Julian before the plague, as he was the doctor which cured his face.

He has several tattoos:

Right arm: A rapier on his inner forearm. Over his elbow he has a black work band, and over it the words ‘THE SUN IS MY UNDOING’ in all caps, circling his arm.

Left arm: a snake wrapped around his forearm, near to the wrist. The Odyssey quote ‘let’s have a toast to the incompetence of our enemies’ under the inner crook of his elbow, and a floral half sleeve.

Chest and Torso: AMOR OMNIA VINCIT over where his heart is supposed to be. He has laurel leaves on the base of his waist.

Legs: ‘o serpent heart hid with a flowering face‘ in his upper, inner thigh, like really up his left inner thigh. A floral anklet on his right ankle.

Languages Spoken: Too many. He speaks nine languages.

Magic Specialities: His magic is connected to both light and languages (it is a play on words with ‘logos’) so he is both adept in photokinesis — he is able to create and manipulate sources of light — and language related magic — which includes incantation and language manipulation. He learns languages as a faster rate than most people, and while he cannot speak or literally understand a language unless he learns it, his magic allows him to intuitively grasp the meaning of words that are being spoken to him.

This capacity also makes him very good at recognising hidden intentions in people. This is not an ability that he broadcasts having, and when he later succeeds Valerius as the Consul, it is something which aids his diplomatic work but he keeps private.

His words tend to carry more weight sometimes because of his magic, something which he can’t always control — it depends on many factors — so he tries to choose his words carefully and with consideration.

His familiar is a Raccoon, named Antu.

Occupation: While he did study magic and is in touch with his magic, he studied politics, diplomacy and international relations. By trade, and out of will to help people, he is a political analyst and, later in life, a Statesman.

Personality/Trivia:

Willpower or Stubbornness? Depends how you look at it. Passionate, generally devoted, hopeful, independent and sometimes defiant. He is a people-oriented introvert. Competitive, but not aggressively so.

Smarter than he gives himself credit for. Overall charming, even debonair.

Curious by nature, hates having his decisions taken for him.

He is proper, sometimes even distinguished, but he is feral. A firm believer in being kind and compassionate with people, until you cross him one too many times, then nothing will make him taint his vindictive wrath.

Is he humble? For the most part. His humbleness comes from knowing his own limits and knowing he’s not infallible. He does have, however, a good deal of pride in himself and trust in what he can do, and he doesn’t like being underestimated.

He’s not particularly loud, though when the chatterbox is on, then it is on, specially if he’s nervous. He is often never still. 

He’s known he has ADHD since he was seventeen.

Likes dancing.

He fences, almost every Radošević fences/sword fights, and he will let you know at the slightest chance. Which can be either him simply being hyper-fixated in fencing, him flirting, or him letting you know that if the occasion rises, he’s armed.

Friend shaped, lover shaped if you’re daring enough.

He wrinkles his nose when he doesn’t like something.

Speaking of which: he doesn’t like abuse of power, the Court, injustice, supremacists of any kind, unkind, hurtful and selfish people in general; he doesn’t like red meat (he says it tastes like metal or dirt), narrow minded people, incompetence, specially when displayed by people in positions of power, and purposeful apathy.

A mastermind archetype, but he draws his power from connection. He does not conceive a life not lived with others.

A bit of a bastard, he enjoys a good laugh.

He plays the piano and the harp, he sings, he cannot draw, he’s a lightweight when it comes to alcohol (which doesn’t really stop him), he likes the opera because he likes watching other people’s drama without being dragged into it, and his favourite season is winter. Also likes playing chess, reading, coffee, flowers, a well tailored outfit, learning, languages, the sea, mysteries, winter, a well laid argument, collecting quills, music, winning, knowing he loves and is loved in return.

When he was 7 he bribed his dad for more dessert, and he ate so much he vomited. His sweet tooth hasn’t gone anywhere, it is alive and well.

Perceptive little bastard, will knife cat you for the sake of it. He has a way more present sense of humour than what he comes across.

Would call himself a ‘trans masculine Mary Poppins’.

He is closest to his parents, his uncle, my other ocs Leonore, Medea and Sabine, his cousins Amparo Cassano and Milenko Radošević, Natiqa, Asra, Portia and Nadia.

If he liked women, he would be paired with Nadia. The possibility both terrifies and fascinates me.

@ilyamatic​, @viviae​, @gaybirdwrites​, @arcanaprentiss​ @apprenticeofcups​

[3laxx]

A Fate Like This

It hadn’t taken long for the demon to be attracted to her emotions. Strong and dark, a true feast. In the early morning hours, they had slipped into her room, taken Luz’s form, with pointy witch ears, but it had been enough to fool Amity. It wasn’t like she had protested much, though. --- When their relationship hits an abrupt stop, Amity gives in to the dark side. It's just too unfair how tempting it can be.

Yeah, I literally just wanted to write a little Creepy!Luz and Villain!Amity. Kinda inspired by the "Say My Name" animatic on YouTube, by HiroyukiAnimation YT, I just really liked Amity's dynamic with turning evil and imagined Luz getting desperate about her girlfriend to pair them. So, I just decided to chuck out this Oneshot xD Enjoy!

Ao3 / FF.net

---

A sense of confidence immediately filled her.

Amity brushed through her hair and loosened her ponytail before the hairband fell to the floor. Her messy bangs fell into her face.

Maybe she shouldn’t have made a deal with the demon. After all, her parents had warned her about people wanting to profit off her position and wealth.

But their arguments had just been too alluring. They had promised her the confidence to stand up to them, to her bully friends, and to protect Luz. They had said she would finally step out of herself. Reach the potential she was meant to have.

The twins had always belittled her about their skills. How they had excelled at everything before her, better and faster and more impressive than her.

Her parents had always called her the black sheep of the family, behind her back, but she had heard the staff whisper. That she had been an accident, that the twins had been born lucky while she had been lucky that she was born.

She knew all the talk. That she had to study a lot just to be good at school. Her private tutoring to excel. That she was dumb and not worthy to be called a Blight.

It had all just gotten worse when Luz had arrived. Well at first, she had only embarrassed her, but then she had fallen in love with the human, the degenerate wannabe witch and somehow, the elite circles around her had found out.

The twins had looked cool for flirting with Luz, all the while keeping out of reach, but when Amity had started flailing around the human, and blushing, and spending time with her, she had only been downgraded more like a witch, as a person and as one of the Blight heirs.

Fallen in love with a human, such a klutz, too.

She heard that it had to be expected that she wouldn’t keep her head leveled, that she would fall in love like a fool and not keep her emotions at bay. That it served her right to be called a disappointment to her esteemed family.

It had started projecting onto Luz as well. She had been followed, threatened, and even beaten up, without ever being told a reason. Amity knew it was to put a dent into her facade. She was bad news and had tried telling Luz that, but the girl had ignored that and continued to be with Amity.

Even when she had patched Luz up in a dark classroom, softly dabbed the blood from her upper lip, and cried at how badly a beating Luz had taken. Luz wouldn’t back down and Amity knew immediately, that she would be too weak to be with her as well, just like with Willow.

That she would push her away to have her stop hurting. That she would give in to the bullies and the bad voice in her head. That she would give up on Luz just like she did on Willow.

Luz hadn’t let her.

That stupid, stupid human had just kissed her out of nowhere, in that dark classroom while outside, it had been pouring and thundering. Disregarded all the bruises she had received from the bullies and the cuts she had gotten from running away from them. She had just kissed her.

Amity had tried pushing her away but Luz hadn’t let her, instead chased her lips again and at that moment, she had been too weak to resist.

Too weak again.

Tears had flown down her cheeks and Luz had flinched back, asked if it had been her fault when she had felt the salty taste on her lips. Titan, she was so sweet and naïve.

Amity had pulled her back in and desperately pressed their lips together as if Luz had been her oxygen. Outside, it had been thundering, storming, the boiling rain hitting the protective shield around the school, and they had been alone in the classroom while Amity had gotten above Luz, pushed her to sit on her lap and hold onto her, hold so tightly because she had thought she’d lose her again.

For a while, it had gone well.

They had managed to keep their relationship a secret, only getting intimate when they were sure they could not be caught. It had caused them to long for each other, to go deeper each time, to crash their lips together whenever they got the chance.

Amity hadn’t ever anticipated such a fire burning inside Luz, especially with the secrecy surrounding them, but she had explained to her that she never would’ve expected a romantic relationship for herself and had longed for one ever since she had hit puberty.

Even when Luz got beaten up again, they stayed together. Amity patching her up, them assuring each other that they wouldn’t stop, just because some guys had it out for Luz. But Amity knew the truth. They were after her. Hurting her. Showing her that what she was doing was wrong.

Luz hadn’t wanted to hear a word. Every time Amity had tried explaining, Luz had just shut her up and let her hands wander under Amity’s shirt, successfully rendering her a mess. After a few times, the Latina had quickly perfected her technique, learning to be able to take Amity out of commission within a few seconds.

She didn’t exactly know how Luz did it, nor did she care. All she cared about was that Luz was strong enough to be with her.

Until their enemies had gotten stronger.

A picture of them kissing had leaked. The whole school had known within minutes. The whole of Bonesborough within an hour. Her parents had been at school almost immediately, to pick her up. The media had plucked the story apart and the picture had been posted all over social media by the evening.

Not that Amity would’ve gotten the chance to explain herself. Her parents had just locked her into her room, for further notice. And once again, Amity had gotten weak.

To play along, not to fall out of line, to go back into the shadow of her siblings, and to continue to attempt lying to herself, that she was the top student, the most skilled witch and worthy.

When Luz’s light glyph had hovered up to her window, she had been too weak to open it. Even when her twins had knocked on her door and begged her to go to Luz, to be strong enough to rebel, she hadn’t managed to. She was too weak, too caught up in herself, too scared.

Luz had been chased off the property again, and Amity’s heart had broken at her begging, screaming for her.

She had been too weak.

It hadn’t taken long for the demon to be attracted to her emotions. Strong and dark, a true feast.

In the early morning hours, they had slipped into her room, taken Luz’s form, with pointy witch ears, but it had been enough to fool Amity. It wasn’t like she had protested much, though.

The Luz-shaped demon had brushed up to her, voice thick and sweet like honey. They had sympathized with Amity, had whined how unfair it was for her to be born into such a cruel family, such a hopeless situation, and had offered her a deal. Amity had tried to block the demon, locking them out, but her emotions had been too delicious for the demon to ignore.

They had promised things to her.

The necessary confidence to stand up to her parents.

The amazing skills she had trained so hard for but only been able to use a speck of what she had dreamed of.

The power she had sought to have.

The power to herself from ill talking, from her status and her family.

The demon had changed their face, Luz’s face, added bruises and blood. Had tempted her, talked sweet, had promised her that she would never have to see Luz like this again.

She had been weak again.

Too weak to withstand the pressure.

Had shook hands with the demon.

Her back cracked when Amity straightened up, then she grinned. Her eyes changed color, got dyed darker. Until they were redder, darker, less like gold, and more like fire.

Suddenly, she stood taller. Her shoulders weren’t pulled up in self-doubt or hanging like she didn’t care. She kept them squared, asserting her newly established confidence. A grin played around her lips when the demon slipped into her mind and pushed away any doubts. All her emotions were gone in an instant. The demon had sucked them up like a festive meal and only left their control. Amity felt as confident as she had never before.

The smirk that had played around her lips before now turned into a smug grin.

She would no longer let her parents tell her what to do. She was of age and they would not force her to do their bidding anymore.

Her siblings could suck it. She felt the powerful magic surging through her body, enhanced by the demon who feasted on her emotions, and felt that she could do things they would not ever have dreamed of.

And she would teach everyone at school a lesson for beating Luz up.

As for Luz herself, she was better than that. She was a Blight. She only associated with a selected few, and she would not let herself be slowed down.

Rolling up her sleeves, Amity brushed through her hair and mustered herself in the mirror. Suddenly, she showed a whole other self of her and she began to like it. A more confident self, who wouldn’t let others walk around on her anymore. This was going to be fun.

 ---

It began with Amity walking out of her room despite being grounded. She had blasted the door out of its hinges and continued down the hall as if nothing had happened.

She wouldn’t care if her parents would tell her to go back into her room. The world was hers now. She wouldn’t let them torment her any further.

The twins busted out of their own doors, attracted by the explosion, ready to fight, but merely stopped at their little sister sauntering past them, leaving a smoking door behind her. They looked at each other and ran to the railing of the manor’s big staircase, watching Amity descend and march towards the door. Their parents closed the entrance off by standing in front of it and told her to go back upstairs, her ban hadn’t been lifted yet.

But the witch didn’t care. She grinned at them and snapped her fingers to encircle them in fire, so hot and high that their hair started getting singed.

“You can’t tell me what to do. Get out of my way or I burn you alive.”

The twins ran down the stairs, already readying water spells, but Amity merely snapped her fingers again, making the stairs tremble beneath their feet and finally collapse, to trap their feet and then wrap them into the carpet that had formerly covered the stairs.

Horrified at their daughter’s sudden change of behavior, Odalia and Alador Blight stepped away through the little way Amity had granted them in their ring of fire, followed by the flames when their daughter walked past them.

With a slam, the big entrance door opened and Amity walked through, releasing the spells with a wave of her hand. Coughing and spluttering, the twins fell to the stairs and heaved, and the Blight parents just stared at each other when the fire was distinguished.

Amity, on the other hand, never felt better. She wore the smirk on her lips confidently when she sauntered through Bonesborough while heads turned after her. Whispers emerged.

But she wouldn’t pay them any mind. They were not worthy to get a place within her head.

Soon, the people of Bonesborough changed their chatter to something more sinister, talking about her affair with the human, especially some colleagues of her parents, and she made short process of them. One who raised his voice too loud she simply engulfed in flames. It was just for a moment, enough to burn his skin and let everyone see, all the while never even stopping to walk.

From that second, the crowds parted for her and she didn’t even spare them a second glance. They were right to treat her like a queen and she wouldn’t accept anything less.

Arriving in school was no less amusing.

Word hadn’t spread yet that she had set a person on fire, but she was sure they’d see it soon enough. Smirking to herself, she held her chin high and walked past all of them. They gossiped and whispered among themselves, that she had been pulled from school the day before, for what had happened.

But Amity didn’t care. She would prove them today. She would never let them think less of her anymore. She was powerful and she was scary. They would learn to fear her.

Grinning and ignoring all of them, she sauntered past, her appearance entirely changed not by her outfit, but by her posture, by her aura.

Rounding a corner, she finally found the goal of her search. Luz was standing with Willow and Gus, holding her books close. Apparently, she had taken the day before quite hard, if the bags under her eyes were any indication for that. But Amity didn’t care. She’d show her what she really meant to her.

Luz noticed her first of the group and immediately dropped her books to approach her, not sensing the danger cursing through the hallway the closer Amity got.

“Amity, I was so worried, I thought-”, she began, but the witch merely lowered her head while lifting her shoulders and walking faster, never letting her eyes leave the human. As if she was getting ready to pounce on her prey, her fingers parting like claws.

Willow noticed first that something was going on with her, but her warning cry didn’t reach Luz in time.

In a second’s notice, Amity had roughly grabbed Luz’s jaw and pulled her into turning, before pushing her legs out from under her body and letting go, having Luz crash into the ground. Amity stood tall while eyeing Willow, enjoying her face changing to a shocked one.

Then she looked down to her former lover, chuckling while a ring of students gathered around them. Conjuring up an abomination hand from the ground, she lifted the human up to her, but never let her hover higher than Amity’s eyes. She stood over her. The hand wrapped around Luz’s body and she heard a satisfying crack. She hadn’t broken anything, but the grip was so tight, Luz was struggling to breathe.

“Come close to me one more time and I’ll make sure you don’t stand up again, got it, cutie?”, she sang but Luz’s face showed nothing but confusion. That disappointed Amity a little, after all, she wanted her to cower in fear. But Luz had never been the fearful kind.

“A-Amity-… What happened to you?”, she asked, pleading, and Amity brushed through her hair, chuckling at the stupid question.

“I grew a spine. Quit being stupid or I’ll break yours with ease.”, the grip around Luz tightened threateningly and she gulped.

“Amity…”

The witch leaned down to her with an insane grin, then she buried a hand in her hair and clenched a fist, making Luz yelp, before roughly pressing her lips on hers, before straightening up again and pushing her head back.

“What, don’t like it anymore? That’s just a shame.”, with a wave, the abominations hand dropped and Luz coughed, trying to get up, before Amity stepped closer and already lifted her hand, conjuring up a fireball, before Willow stepped in and stopped her with a vine, catching her wrist.

“What the hell happened to you, Amity?!”, she yelled, before kneeling to help Luz. The human accepted the helping hand and got back up to her feet while Amity easily let the vine disintegrate, before mustering her fingernails. “I woke up from a deep slumber. A deep slumber that lasted all my life.”, she explained and Willow squinted her eyes at her, before suddenly, a hesitation went through the students around them, before they stumbled back, staring at their phones. Smirking, Amity supposed they had found her fiery morning action.

One broke from the line.

“Yo, she’s crazy!”, he shouted and ran down the hall. Amity let him. That’d be fun.

By then, word had spread and voices got louder, while Luz kept staring at her. She was so confused and admittedly, a little scared. What had happened to Amity in the twelve hours that she hadn’t seen her?

Even Boscha seemed to hesitate at the power radiating from Amity, Luz noticed, her keeping away from her friend by a few meters, but Amity had finally spotted her.

“Ah, there you are.”, she growled and Boscha sank into herself, stepping back.

“W-What?!”, she tried but Amity just snapped her fingers and caused Boscha’s legs to be frozen to the floor while she approached her.

“You’re one of the many reasons I finally snapped. I wanna thank you!”, unsure, Boscha looked back to Willow and Luz somehow hoping they would help but they were just as clueless as her.

“What are you talking about?! You’re crazy.”, Boscha exclaimed while Amity grinned at her, before cupping her cheek. She did not like where this was going.

“Maybe I am crazy.”, Amity sang in an alluring voice, then she smiled at Boscha, “Hm… I will catch you later. But never forget that you were the one to lick my boots before turning on me, hm?”

She patted her cheek, then she turned and waved her hands, freeing Boscha’s boots before waving again. Suddenly, an abomination grabbed Boscha and threw her against the lockers, leaving her crumpled body on the floor and sinking back into the ground where it came from.

Shocked silence filled the hallway while Amity sauntered away, cackling to herself.

 ---

For the rest of the day, nobody dared to speak to Amity again. They didn’t exactly know why she was that way, but Willow had figured he had finally snapped under the pressure of her parents.

Over the day, the bruises she had given Luz started appearing in blue and purple colors on her jaw, just from gripping her.

Luz didn’t know how Amity had gotten that strong, but when she had looked into her eyes, she had immediately known something was wrong.

This wasn’t Amity.

Something must’ve happened, over the night, something else than her snapping.

Luz softly rubbed her shoulder, where she felt another bruise forming. Something had massively gone wrong. Something that had given Amity unimaginable power and confidence.

Luz doubted that had come from the witch herself, because as much as she loved her, Amity was unsure and always let her own head block her potential.

Cowering behind a corner, she saw Amity confronting some guys who had beaten Luz up a few days back. She caught them in vines and pulled their face close to her, before caving it in with an abomination fist. The students around her flinched back while the second bully tried freeing himself from ice pillars, but Amity was faster. She kicked his middle, then she conjured another abomination and beat him unconscious, before leaving.

Luz held a hand over her lips while Amity came her way and thankfully walked past her, seemingly not noticing her hiding behind a doorway.

She hadn’t once used a circle to do magic. Her magic came from somewhere else. Amity had done the movement, sure, but there had been no conjuring up with a circle. Luz had seen it.

Suddenly, the witch stopped and her ears twitched. Biting her tongue, Luz pressed herself tighter into the doorframe, but it was of no use. Amity stood next to her faster than she could scream. Pushing the human into the door, Luz recognized the classroom they had first kissed in.

“Amity, wh-whatever you wanna do-”, she began, but the witch merely drew her fist back, engulfed it with abomination goo, and punched. The rock-hard, enlarged fist connected with her chest and robbed her of all air. Luz felt her body flying through the air before hitting the blackboard at the front of the room, then she dazedly fell to the floor.

“You’re the human.”, Amity snarled, and Luz immediately felt reassured that Amity wasn’t herself at the moment, “You’re the degenerate who tricked me into thinking she was more than she was worth.”

Luz softly shook her head, then she conjured some vines to dodge Amity’s fist, breaking the abomination. Amity summoned a fireball and Luz finally got to her feet enough to roll out of the way before bringing an ice pillar between her and the witch, feeling the heat of the fire blasting around her shield and melting the ice.

“A-Amity, please-…��

But the witch wouldn’t listen.

Instead, she let an abomination rise up in front of Luz and throw a punch at her, but the human rolled out of the way just in time. Her ice pillar exploded in a thousand pieces when the abomination sunk into itself, only to resurface behind Luz and grab her.

Amity let it throw Luz across the room and a satisfied grin grew on her face when she crashed into some tables, breaking them. The human slapped a plant glyph on the ground and let some vines wrap around Amity’s feet, but she was faster.

With ease, the witchling burned the vines, before conjuring up a fireball to throw after Luz who jumped out of the way and hid beneath a table. A light glyph emerged from there, so big that Amity had to turn away, then he felt some hands grabbing her but she was too strong for Luz. The human was thrown past her when she turned, her hands losing the grip on Amity’s clothes, and crashed against the blackboard. Immediately, Amity followed suit and tried throwing a punch at her, but Luz ducked and the blackboard broke at the force of her fist connecting with it.

Groaning, mity held her hand, then she turned after the human who conjured some ice spikes to keep her on distance, but Amity merely drew another circle and et an abomination rise between them. The creature turned off its head and threw it after Luz who ducked again, the tables and chairs behind her getting crushed in the force.

“Amity, please! Stop!”

The witchling just grinned, another fireball appearing in her hand. “Not interested.”, she hissed, then she threw it after Luz and hit her back when she tried running, making her scream in pain. The human fall to the floor and could only just so roll out of the way when the headless abomination tried stepping on her head.

With quite some effort, Luz got back up again, creating a fireball herself to hit the abomination and make it disappear, before using another plant glyph to try and trap Amity, grabbing her wrists with the branches of a small but sturdy tree, but Amity merely broke free with demonic strength, taking a quick step and grabbing Luz’s hair to throw her to the ground and land a punch in her face. Screaming, Luz broke free and kicked Amity away, conjuring up an ice pillar to stand on so the witchling couldn’t get to her, before searching for another fire glyph. A kick from Amity let her ice pillar crack and she quickly jumped before Amity kicked it again, successfully letting it fall into itself while Luz rolled off the ground and came back up to her feet.

Growling, the girl turned back to her.

“Amity, you have to stop, please!”, Luz cried, but Amity just growled louder, screaming as she drew a big circle and conjured up spikes to trap Luz. She could just so escape them by protecting herself with a wall of vines, then she jumped out on top before Amity could reach her, letting another fireball appear in her hand to stop Amity’s steps as she threw it in front of the witchling, running to the other side. She grabbed after her and caught her uniform, pulling her close and making her stumble, then Luz just so dodged another fireball and freed her shirt from Amity’s grip, kicking against her legs to make her fall.

An abomination suddenly grabbed her from behind and Luz screamed again, feeling herself getting thrown. Thinking fast, she threw a glyph to make an ice slide, coming to her feet somewhat unscathed, before Amity lunged at her and punched her stomach, making the human sink to her knees, completely exhausted and glyph-less. Most of the room was trashed by now and she had nothing else to give She could only hope Amity would get close enough for one last resort.

She groaned when Amity lifted her up with an abomination hand, before using some vines to grab her face, thorns digging into Luz’s skin.

“You’re the dirt beneath my feet.”, Amity hissed and slapped her, before turning away, leaving Luz helpless in her prison.

“Amity, please, just listen to me for a second, please.”, she begged but the witch just cackled, “What happened to you?!”

“What happened to me?”, she asked and turned with a manic grin, “I got some welcome help. I got more powerful than my parents ever planned for me, more powerful than the twins could imagine. I’m the Blight I was meant to be now.”

Luz grimaced at the pain before Amity snapped and left the vines and abomination to disappear, allowing Luz to breathe again.

“It’s not you.”, Luz then stated, just getting to her knees again, brushing some blood off her lips with the back of her hand, growling. At that, Amity flinched, “This isn’t the Amity I know.”

The witch looked back to her and smirked, kneeling as well to grab Luz’s jaw once more.

“The Amity you knew was weak, Luz. I’ve replaced her now.”, she brushed over the corner of her mouth with her thumb, wiping away some blood, “And now, everything will be perfect for me.”

Luz wouldn’t accept this. Something bad had happened and she had to snap Amity out of it.

“If you won’t tell me what went down last night, I’ll be forced to do this.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Amity finally let go of her jaw again and gave her an arrogant snort.

“What do you seriously want to do to me? You’re pathetic.”

Luz surged forward and caught Amity’s lips, grabbed her head tightly with one hand while her other flew to Amity’s waist, her fingers finding a way to her bare skin before cupping her waist with her palm and slipping upwards softly.

This had usually rendered Amity a blabbering mess in the past, so it should hopefully be enough to snap her out of this. The witch fought back, but not with the power she had possessed before. Luz pressed closer, pulled Amity’s middle to her, and kept her neck in a tight grip, nuzzling closer to her and kissing her lips desperately.

Amity’s fighting died down before something cold wiped over Luz’s face. The witch in her arms collapsed against her, her face falling against Luz’s shoulder. Her body went slack and Luz had to bring up all her strength to catch Amity, roll her off slowly and bring her to a halt on the floor.

The witch was out cold, not necessarily something Luz had planned for, but it was a good sign Amity hadn’t been able to withstand her.

Instead, Luz was facing herself.

The pointy ears and the smug grin on her face were the only things differing from Luz’s appearance, the bruises as well but Luz didn’t count them. Furrowing her eyebrows, she remembered King’s lesson about demons.

There were emotion-sucking beasts, out there to make deadly deals with desperate people. Amity must’ve fallen for a demon like that, and made a deal to exchange her emotions for power. Luz felt a chill running down her spine when the demon laughed.

“Are you surprised?”, they asked smugly while sauntering around Luz and the unconscious Amity, circling them.

“Not that much…”, Luz replied, keeping close to Amity, “But you lost. Now scram.”

The demon merely cackled and gestured to its former vessel on the floor, smirking.

“I haven’t had my payment yet.”

Luz growled, cupping Amity’s cheek.

“You won’t get her back. You better leave or I’ll kick your ass, you understand?”, she tried lashing out but the demon merely let her hand wipe through their appearance and laughed.

“I don’t want her back.”, they cackled, then they focused back on Luz, kneeling and cupping Amity’s other cheek. Luz clenched her teeth at that, “I just want a vessel, not necessarily hers.”

She knew what the demon was playing at. Exchange her for Amity.

Normally, she would’ve taken this deal immediately, out of sheer panic for Amity’s wellbeing. Hell, she would’ve taken it now, if there wasn’t some little problem with that.

“I said leave.”, Luz gritted her teeth, clenching her fist when she glared at the demon, “You used Amity to bring so much pain. I won’t let you do that again, not with her, not with me, not with anybody.”

The demon was almost impressed at that but didn’t back down.

“I could make you powerful, Luz… I could give you native magic. I could make you create a portal to the human realm, see your mother again.”

Luz gulped but merely lowered her gaze.

“I don’t want your empty promises.”, she growled, then she slowly reached for the emergency light glyph she always kept on her person. It wasn’t that useful in a fight, but to scare off a demon, it might just work.

“But Luz, my promises aren’t empty.”, changing forms, the demon now took Amity’s face and stood up, “You could be with Amity. I could help you stand up to her parents and your bullies. I could make you so powerful to mess with them all.”

But she wouldn’t back down.

Luz huffed, then she got up.

“I said LEAVE!!”, she screamed, before pulling the light glyph and conjuring it in the demon’s face to blind them, before getting up in their face, “Or I’ll annihilate you because the Owl Lady is my mentor and she taught me to kick demon ass.”

She was just bluffing, after all, Eda hadn’t exactly taught her how to defeat possessive demons, but they apparently understood. They squinted their eyes at first, but when Luz didn’t back down, they huffed.

“You’re too much effort.”, they growled before leaving in a puff of smoke. Contently, Luz leaned back and smiled to herself. These demons feed off of self-doubt and if Luz didn’t give an opening, they’d give up soon enough. After all, there were weaker targets to go after.

Behind her, Amity groaned and Luz turned, seeing her girlfriend sitting up in the trashed classroom before looking around, her eyes widening.

“… Luz?”

The human kneeled down and softly brushed over Amity’s cheek, smiling.

“Hey, are you okay? Sorry for using that on you.”

Looking around, Amity took in the mess, her eyes asking if they had really done that, but another few things burned on her heart first before she could ask.

“… I-I-… I’m so, so sorry, Luz… I didn’t mean to hurt you, or anyone for that matter! I didn’t know what came over me, suddenly there was so much power and-”

Luz sat down and pulled her closer, sighing against her shoulder.

“It’s okay. We understand. Please don’t feel guilty, you were taken advantage of.”

Amity slowly began sobbing, before full-on wailing into Luz’s shoulder, while the human held her close. She would always be right there to catch Amity, and she would never judge her for something like this. The demon had found her in her weakest moment and hit a sore spot. It hadn’t been her fault.

“I-I hurt s-s-o many pe-eople-”, she cried but Luz shook her head and rubbed over her back.

“We’ll fix this. It’s okay, Amity, we’ll make sure they understand.”, the witch leaned against her and continued crying until there were no more tears left. Luz parted softly and brushed over her cheek, “I’m just glad you’re okay… I really wouldn’t have liked to lose you to a possessive demon.”

Amity groaned, then she tried hiding her face, but instead, Luz nudged her nose and softly kissed her.

“I’m so sorry…”, Amity whispered and Luz smiled.

“I know. That’s a start, okay?”

She nodded before falling back against Luz and keeping her close, sighing into Luz’s shoulder and wrapping her arms around her girlfriend.

“Th-Thank you for staying… A few hours more and the demon would’ve devoured me.”

Luz nodded and weaved her fingers through Amity’s hair, holding her close, making her feel as protected as she could.

“I wouldn’t ever leave you to a fate like this, Amity.”

---

Let me know if you liked it! It's kinda short, I know, but I won't write more for it, it was just to relieve my headcanon x)

[londonspirit]

After the pandemic delayed its highly-anticipated release, the In the Heights movie is finally coming to very thirsty fans this Friday - and, to make the premiere even better, a special behind-the-scenes look at the movie is hitting bookshelves. In the Heights: Finding Home is a joint venture with Lin-Manuel Miranda, screenwriter Quiara Alegría Hudes, and Jeremy McCarter - it combines never-before-seen photos and oral history style-storytelling to take readers onto the Washington Heights set, spilling all sorts of filming secrets. Here, in an exclusive excerpt, read along as the cast battles record heat to complete the "Carnaval del Barrio" number.

Washington Heights is dense enough, and lively enough, to offer a distilled version of the New York paradox: Life is a nerve-fraying ordeal that you miss terribly as soon as it's gone. (According to local custom, people don't just double-park here, they triple-park.) Everybody knew that shooting a movie there would be difficult and expensive. But Jon [M. Chu, the director,] couldn't imagine doing it any other way.

For all of its fantastical touches-what Jon calls its "sing-to-the-stars-y" energy-Heights has always drawn power from its realism, a depiction of life as it's actually lived. The sweet spot for the movie, Jon felt, would be offering "a very truthful take on living in Washington Heights, then upping it."

In other words: No matter how fraught the process might be, the cast, the crew, and all of their gear-up to and including their fake sun in the sky-were going to spend the summer of 2019 in Washington Heights.

"The essence of a movie dictates where you shoot it," explains Kevin McCormick, a Warner Bros. executive who was integral to Heights. "And there's no way you could not have made this in Washington Heights. To have a movie about this community and not film there would be such a lost opportunity."

The first thing they did there was listen. Members of the production team, particularly Samson Jacobson, the location manager (born and raised in the area-a definite plus), and Karla Sayles, the director of public affairs at Warner Bros., met with community leaders to field questions and respond to concerns. Once again, Luis Miranda was a vital resource, drawing on relationships he had built over decades to make introductions.

The producers vowed to do all they could to limit the physical footprint of the shoot. Cast members shared trailers that they might otherwise have kept to themselves. The production hired people from the neighborhood for roles onscreen and off. Instead of catering every meal, they encouraged actors and crew to buy lunch in area restaurants. They even funded a student production of the show at George Washington high school.

What you see onscreen is a two-hour-and-fourteen-minute record of movie professionals falling in love with a place and its people. They arrived uptown to discover that Washington Heights really was different from most places in New York. Locals opened the hydrants on hot afternoons and played dominoes on the sidewalks. The piragüeros really did park their carts on the sidewalk to hawk their flavors of the day. The fascination seemed to be mutual: Actors got used to seeing whole families-little kids and their abuelitas-watching from their stoops at any time of the day or night.

Which is not to say that it came easily.

To Alice Brooks, the director of photography, the weather problems were "insane." If a storm popped up on the radar anywhere nearby, they had to suspend production. This happened with schedule-wrecking regularity. They expected to be free of such interruptions when they went underground to shoot "Paciencia y Fe" on the subway. Instead, they experienced a torment familiar to every New Yorker but with a twist: They weren't waiting for the train to appear so they could ride it to work, they just needed the garbage train to pass by so they could go back to shooting their movie.

The need to solve the endless riddles of New York filmmaking had led the producers to add Anthony Bregman to the team. At this point, he reckons, he's filmed in just about every corner of his hometown, always looking for ways to capture the authentic look and feel of a place-even when the movie is surreal. (He produced Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, a valuable point of reference for the reality-bending frame of Quiara's screenplay.) So he wasn't especially rattled when, on the night they filmed "Alabanza," a nearby building caught fire, or when, on another night, gunshots rang out nearby.

"You want the life of the city?" Anthony asks. "The life of the city is complicated."

The production lost valuable shooting time on both of those nights. They found ways to make it up later. But other days offered no second chances. Anthony remembers looking at the calendar before summer began, getting a feel for what lay ahead. Some days seemed manageable; some days seemed tough. Then there was "Carnaval del Barrio."

"That day," he says, "was impossible."

What turned out to be a defining episode in the whole long history of In the Heights almost didn't happen at all. Many a movie executive had suggested over the years that there wasn't enough plot in "Carnaval del Barrio" to justify a song that was very long and very crowded, which made it very expensive. But the song's power doesn't come from the plot, it comes from the theme. The characters rally one another's spirits amid a citywide blackout. They raise their flags and celebrate their heritage-and their humanity-in defiance of every force telling them not to.

That community-fortifying aspect of the song is "essentially the DNA of In the Heights for me," Quiara says. Beneath the joy, there's a legacy of struggle and resilience. " 'Carnaval' unearths that history. All we have is our fight to be here together, the testimony to our spirit."

To help ensure that the number would remain in the movie, she hooked it into the plot more securely, situating it as a farewell number for the salon ladies, who have been priced out of the neighborhood. But the budget wasn't the only limiting factor. "Carnaval" is unique in requiring virtually every member of the cast to be present at the same time.

The actors' complicated schedules meant that Jon wouldn't get all the filming days he wanted. He would get only one.

Which meant it was time for the hard, slow, unglamorous legwork of moviemaking: planning, organizing, rehearsing, designing, equipping, and rehearsing some more-months of it, all to give themselves the best possible chance to "make the day," to film the whole gigantic number in the time available.

In the world of making movies, "day" is a flexible unit of time, especially for a scene that would be filmed outdoors- in this case, a courtyard between two apartment buildings around the corner from where Lin went to preschool. They scheduled the shoot for a Monday, when union rules would let them start the earliest. And they picked June 24, one of the longest days of the year.

They didn't realize it would also be one of the hottest.

The song would be filmed more or less in order. Which meant that for the production, as for the characters, the salon ladies would lead the way.

Some of the movie's actors were new to musicals. Not Daphne Rubin-Vega, who plays Daniela. When Rent blew the mind of seventeen-year-old Lin-Manuel Miranda, she was onstage, playing Mimi. But when she arrived for hair and makeup on "Carnaval" day-at 4:30 in the morning-even she was feeling nerves. The uneven concrete floor of the courtyard wasn't like where they had rehearsed. The prospect of filming a seven-page song before nightfall seemed crazy.

She began to hear a voice of doubt in her brain, one that's encoded in a specific ugly memory. After wrapping her first film, she had gone to the airport to fly home to New York and mentioned to the woman at the ticket counter that she had just acted in a movie.

"That's funny," said the woman, who Daphne believes to have been Latina like herself. "You don't look like an actress."

Worries about how they looked, questions about what they were wearing, a general feeling of negativity-Dascha Polanco was feeling them, too. She always loved arriving on set to play Cuca, one of Daniela's fellow salon ladies, because it felt so much like coming home. She was born in the Dominican Republic and while growing up in Brooklyn used to make frequent trips to the Heights with her friends. ("Washington Heights is a small Dominican Republic," she explains.) Now she, too, wondered if she belonged. Am I capable of remembering the steps? she asked herself.

She decided to stop those doubts-for herself and the other salon ladies. She grabbed the hands of Daphne and Stephanie Beatriz, who played Carla, and formed the women into a profane prayer circle.

"Shake that s--- off," she told them. "I'm not going to let anyone or anything interfere with my performance today."

Daphne laughs as she tells the story. "She was so hilarious and said we were going to protect each other from that insecurity. That was such a beautiful thing-going in there with that determination to represent."

By 5:30 A.M., when the sun rose over Queens, sixty dancers had arrived. Christopher Scott, the film's choreographer, tried to prepare them for what was coming, backed by his full team of associate choreographers: Emilio Dosal, Ebony Williams, and Dana Wilson, as well as associate Latin choreographer Eddie Torres, Jr., and assistant Latin choreographer Princess Serrano. By six A.M., dozens of crew members had joined them, making the thousand careful adjustments needed to help a movie look spontaneous.

It was almost nine A.M. by the time Jon called "Action." The cameras started rolling, Daphne started singing, and the clock kept ticking.

Arrange the actors, position the cameras, do a take, reset everybody, do it again. As the sun climbed higher that morning, the temperature rose to what one crew member estimated to be nine hundred degrees. Look closely-see the sweat on people's bodies? Most of it didn't come from the makeup department. But there wasn't time for extra breaks to cool off.

"Please be quiet," a voice on the loudspeaker boomed at one point. "We gotta go."

At one point that morning, Jimmy Smits got his turn to shine. Playing Kevin Rosario wasn't his first Height experience. He had seen the show Off-Broadway and been "blown away" by it, he says. He had offered to help in any way he could, eventually recording a radio ad for the show.

His devotion to Heights carried into rehearsals for the film. As they got underway, he told Chris Scott and the choreography team, "I know I'm playing the dad, but the last thing I want to see is myself in the background, just waving my hands. I want to go all in." They obliged him. He sometimes hobbled home from the dance studio to ice himself for hours.

His payoff came on "Carnaval" day. He had a featured moment in the song: an intricate, whirling combination. The cast and crew watched him do it again and again, cheering him on. He could feel "a lightning bolt of energy" around the set, something he'd experienced only rarely in his long career.

Over the applause after one take, a voice rang out, ricocheting off the walls: "That s--- was crazy! For our ancestors!" It was Anthony Ramos. He, too, had a long history with Heights, but it wasn't as happy as Jimmy's.

Very early in his career, he had tried to get cast as Sonny on the show's national tour. It meant taking a bus into Manhattan from a gig he was doing in New Jersey, going through round after round of auditions. At last he made it to the big moment: a callback in front of Tommy Kail, Alex Lacamoire, and Lin himself.

He gave the song everything he had. He didn't get the part.

He thought he'd missed the one chance he would get to work with Lin, the writer who'd evoked Anthony's own world, Latino New York, so beautifully on a Broadway stage. He needn't have worried. A few years later, the same guys would hire him to originate the roles of John Laurens and Philip Hamilton, Alexander's son, in Hamilton.

When Anthony got to know Tommy and Lac well enough, he asked if they remembered not casting him as Sonny. They said they did.

"You weren't ready yet," Lac said.

Anthony knew he was right. "Only a homie would tell you that," he says.

But he needed one more break to make his way back to Heights and find himself sweating in the courtyard that morning.

In 2018, Stephanie Klemons, an original cast member of both In the Heights and Hamilton, directed a production of Heights at the Kennedy Center in Washington. The night before rehearsals were set to begin, she lost an actor to an injury. She reached out to Anthony: Could he step in with zero notice?

He didn't feel physically or mentally ready, and was about to pass, but decided to do it. That's how he got a second chance to show Lin what he could do in Heights-not as Sonny this time, as Usnavi. In a series of tweets, reproduced on this page, Lin commemorated how overwhelmed he was watching Anthony step into the role he once played. He, Quiara, and Jon all agreed that when the cameras started rolling, Anthony should be their Usnavi.

The bond between Anthony and Lin added to the drama of filming "Carnaval." Lin played Piragua Guy, so he was in the courtyard, too-or, rather, directly above it, on a fire escape. It meant that the whole cast and crew had a clear view of the brief duet that he and Anthony sing in the middle of the number. To people who knew their history, the sight made time go all swirly. Anthony had originated the role of Lin's son in Hamilton, and now he was playing the role that Lin had originated, and somehow the two of them were singing a duet in Washington Heights.

A quirk of the production process made the moment even stranger and more potent. All day, the actors had been singing along to prerecorded versions of "Carnaval" piped over the loudspeakers. But somehow they hadn't gotten around to recording Anthony's side of his duet, so they had to fall back on the only other version on hand: the Broadway cast album. Which meant that Lin wasn't just singing with Anthony that day, he was harmonizing with himself at age twenty-eight, when every bit of what was happening around him would have seemed like a ludicrous dream. "It was like time travel," Lin says.

By three p.m., when everybody had returned from their lunch break-blood sugar bolstered by the ice cream truck that Stephanie Beatriz had hired-time was growing shorter, the day hotter. Now when choreographer Chris Scott talked to the dancers, many listened with hands on hips, hands on knees.

From his fire escape, Lin did his bit to keep up morale. He joined in the clapping that broke out between scenes; he made silly faces; he pulled up his shirt and did belly rolls. Guests watched from the edges of the shoot: Lin's dad and wife, Quiara's sister, Chris's mom, Anthony's sister and mom. Anna Wintour stopped by.

Jon is not the type to direct through a bullhorn, barking orders from the shade. When they'd filmed "96,000" earlier that month on a couple of unseasonably frigid days, he had jumped in the Highbridge Park pool with the cast.

On this day, he darted around the courtyard, giving notes to actors, framing shots, conferring with Alice. He is also not the type to speak in mystical terms, but when he thinks back on that day, he remembers "the sun shining down like a laser-it was like the sun was shining out of everybody."

By late afternoon, the boundary between the make-believe world of the movie and the real world of the shoot had all but melted away. They had reached the part of the song where Usnavi and Daniela try to call forth their neighbors' pride in where they come from. Anthony climbed onto a picnic table and faced the whole cast, rapping, "Can we sing so loud and raucous they can hear us across the bridge in East Secaucus?" Daphne stood near him, arms wide apart, raising them up, willing everybody to stand tall, to keep going.

Both of them were throwing all their skill and commitment into their performances, the stars of two of Broadway's epoch-making musicals doing what they had trained to do. But they also weren't acting.

"To raise the flag for your country, to dance and recognize that we're all here together, and belong here, we don't need to be forgiven for it, or ashamed for it," says Daphne of what she was feeling. "There's a pride in being here from Colombia, or Panama, the D.R., Puerto Rico, Cuba, wherever."

At eight o'clock, with the sun sinking toward New Jersey, the dancers were still dancing. Eleven hours had passed since Daphne had belted out "Hey!" to start the song. Now Jon was trying to get the right take of sixty-plus voices shouting "Hey!" to finish it. In the movie version of the scene, the blackout ends when the song does, so a voice on the loudspeaker would announce, "The power's on!" That's how the actors knew the right moment to cheer that it was over.

After one such cheer, it really was over. Not just the take-the song.

They had done it. They had made the day.

Jon jumped into a swarm of dancers. (Ever see a baseball player hit a walk-off home run, then leap onto home plate into the waiting arms of his cheering teammates? That's what this jump looked like.) People were clapping and shouting and hugging and crying. Alice thought the whole thing was a miracle.

"You know when you see people at a concert cry, and you're like, 'I would never do that'?" asks costume designer Mitchell Travers. "That's what I did." He thinks it's the most sheer human energy he has ever been close to.

Anthony Ramos, in the middle of the crowd, launched into a speech. He can't remember his exact words. He hadn't planned what he was going to say-he hadn't planned to speak at all. He just felt that something needed to be said.

"I might have said, today we made history," he recalls. "This was for our ancestors who didn't get the opportunity to do this-who were fighting to have a chance to do what we just did. It was for love of the culture. It was for our kids, who look like us, to be able to see themselves on the big screen, to see us singing about our pride. Some s--- like that."

Somewhere in the crowd stood Dascha Polanco, cheering with the rest. She was sweaty, tired, tear-streaked-and beginning to feel the spirit move.

"I looked down and saw that concrete floor," she says, "and I saw those fire escapes up there, and I was like, 'New York.' "

She began a chant. It was slow and pitched low: "N-e-e-e-e-w York, N-e-e-e-e-w York." In seconds, the whole crowd took it up. "N-e-e-e-e-w York! N-e-e-e-e-w York!"

They were pointing to the sky. They were dancing.

"N-e-e-e-e-w York! N-e-e-e-e-w York!"

"It wasn't like chanting, 'Oh, I love New York,' " Anthony says later-meaning it wasn't a casual thing someone would casually say. "It was"-he drops his voice an octave and leans in-"I motherf---ing love New York. I'm proud to be from New York. I'm proud to be Latino from New York. That was the chant."

Lin, on his fire escape, was overwhelmed. Quiara, in the courtyard, guessed that people could hear them all chanting for blocks around. "It was the sound of joy and survival," she says. "And the sound of people who were really proud to be artists in community together-all our stories braided and interwoven at that one moment."

The long months of preparation had yielded the thing that movie people dream of creating: the burst of real emotion, the flash of genuine spontaneity. Some of it infuses what you see in the finished version of the song, but some of it can't be recovered now. It's an experience only for the people who got to be part of that impromptu celebration, the carnaval that followed "Carnaval."

That long day and its joyous finale capture, in miniature form, a lot of the Heights experience-what's powerful about it, what's rare. Instead of expecting little from the actors it featured, Heights demanded everything-not just what they could do, but who they were and where they came from. By fusing them with dozens of other artists making the same commitment, it gave them the feeling that Lin had wanted so badly for himself when he started writing the show: a sense of belonging, of being part of a group of people working toward a goal they all hold dear. That's why Anthony, looking back on filming "Carnaval," says, "That was one of the greatest days of my life. Period. If I never do another movie again, I did this."

"Something that arises in 'Carnaval' is a feeling of, 'There's a place for us,' " says Quiara. "But the place is not one that says, 'Oh, I definitely fit in' or 'I definitely don't.' It holds those questions. It allows those questions to exist."

Those questions, she has come to see, are universal.

"People are like, 'What is my place in the world?' That question is actually part of your place in the world," she says. "There's something about In the Heights. It takes such a burden off to hear, 'Yeah, there's a place for you. Here it is.'"

[musicalskater59]

Daylight December: Staff

It's early in the morning and I can't sleep again so I wrote the daily prompt in advance once again lol. Sorry if there is a few grammar issues or stuff like that cause it's four in the morning and I really don't feel like proofreading or anything... Not like I ever proof read in the first place, but you know what I mean lol.

Anyway! I hope you guys enjoy this and much love, mates!

A staff was showcasing of how a witch or a wizard had gained a mastery level of knowledge over their magic. It proved how truthfully dedicated a magic wielder was to their craft. To their life of magic and how they were able and willing to teach others their skills as well. It's an honor to be gifted a staff from your master. It is their way of teaching you that they believe that they have done all that they could for you. That you were ready to move past the life of an apprentice and continue your journey of a spell caster on your own, or at least, for the most part.

I weighed the black and purple staff in my hands as I swallowed dryly.

And as my master has done with me, it is my turn to do so with my own apprentice.

I have trained Claire for a little over six years now. The young woman was an anomaly when it came to magic, but she is one of the most powerful witches I have ever cast my eyes upon. She nearly mastered dark magic within the first three years of my training her and even then, I knew she could do much more than the old books could ever teach her. Yet, she aged unlike Zoe and me. We chalked it up to the idea that her magical ability was forced upon her instead of blossoming on its own, but it made her even more unique as a student. This never stopped her from her training though. I believe it actually made her even more determined to get her spells right the first time so that she had more time to refine others. She was determined, headstrong, and probably the most stubborn student I will ever have.

But I know with all my heart that I wouldn't want it any other way.

I felt a smile grace my face as I looked over toward Jim who stood proudly beside me. His hands were placed behind his back as he stared up toward the staircase that Claire was due to come down from. A large smile dancing across his face as he waited patiently for the young witch to make her appearance to us.

With Jim's help, I was able to craft the staff for my apprentice. If it wasn't for the former Trollhunter gone champion of Excaliber, I don't think I would have gathered the materials I had needed in such a short timeframe. Together though, we were able to create and harbor our mutual secret as we tried our best to keep it from the young Latina. I knew it must have been hell for the young knight since it was his wife after all, but I don't doubt that she would hold it against him for very long. Not after realizing what exactly we've been working on.

"Okay." I stiffed a little as I heard Claire's voice from the top of the staircase. "I got Romeo to go to sleep, but I'm still wondering why in the hell you two decided-." She stopped as she neared the bottom step. Her eyes dancing between the sight of the staff within my hands and then Jim and I. "I'm dreaming right?" I just smiled as Jim chuckled beside me.

"No, my friend, this is not a dream." Claire stepped down from the bottom step as I handed out the staff to her. "I believe you're ready. More than ready, if I'm honest with myself."

"This can't be real." I placed the staff into her extended hands as my smile just widened in reply. I dropped my hands to my sides as she looked over the staff. It was like Morgana's so it must have been familiar to her as well as different. I made sure that it had a lot more of the fellow punk's personality with the skull headpiece and deep purple crystal residing in said skull's mouth. She twirled it around in her right hand before slamming the end of it onto the floor with a satisfied smile gracing her lips. "I-." She looked over the staff once more as it was now standing by her side. Her right hand tightening its grip around it before turning her attention back toward Jim and me. "I don't know how to thank you, Teach." I felt my smile soften as she used the old nickname she had given me.

"I should be thanking you, honestly." I slipped my hands into my hoodie pockets as I pulled my gaze away from the fellow magic wielder to look toward the carpet under my feet. "I couldn't have asked for a better student. I couldn't have asked for a better friend. I doubt that whatever apprentice I end up gaining in the inevitable future could ever compare to you, my friend." I turned my attention toward Jim as I placed my left hand onto his right shoulder. "I shouldn't be the only one for you to thank though. If it weren't for Jim here, I wouldn't have been able to create it."

"So this is what you were hiding." I looked over toward Claire as she was just giving her husband an amused smirk. "Here I thought you were hiding an upcoming mission from me or something."

"It killed me to lie to you," I felt Jim drape his arm over my shoulders. "But I knew it was for a good reason. Douxie deserved the right to give the staff to you when he was ready. Even though I was dying to tell you for months not."

"Hey," Claire brought her staff up to point the end of it toward her husband as she narrowed her eyes at him. "What did I tell you about that word?" Jim just chuckled at her as he dropped his arm to his side.

"I didn't know we were crafting her a weapon to use against me here, Doux. I wouldn't have helped if I knew that one." I just smiled at the two of them as Claire just rolled her eyes and dropped the staff back down so the end of it hit the carpet floor once more.

It's an honor to be gifted a staff from your master.

My smile deepened as Claire leaned the staff against the wall beside her before she pulled Jim into a tight hug. Once they separated, I found myself being pulled into a tight hug by the sorcerous as well as a single thought danced within my mind.

But as the master now, I feel as if the honor is all mine.

[timeandspacenovelist]

Wargames Worries

Set before and after Wargames 2020.

The sweet but peaceful tones of “A Whole New World” filled the air with a relaxing atmosphere as Candice LeRae hummed along. She just taken out a nice turkey (it was a week after Thanksgiving, allow her) and she set it alongside the other lovely dishes on offer. Today was planning day for WarGames and in addition to going into war with these ladies, she also got on decently well with them. She and Dakota had patched things up after their falling out last year and Raquel seemed alright. Toni and she had met a few times over the past two years or so and she liked her, so that’s good as well. So in order to make this day as good as it could be, alongside the turkey there was a lobster, some Texas ribs and some snacks imported from New Zealand. Now all that was needed was for the guests to arrive. She checked the clock, 3:00pm. Johnny had his game to watch, so he would be occupied. She didn’t want him blabbing about anything unintentionally. She had to outright click delete on a tweet that he was about to send that was gonna reveal Indi as Ghostface before the time called for it. She loved him so much, but honestly, he frustrated her sometimes. She took a few cleansing breaths as she thought about the day ahead.

“Ok, first time planning as WarGames captain. Everything’s gonna be fine. I’m in control. Rhea did it last year, what’s the worse that can happen?” she said to herself. Maybe it was gonna be a good day. Then the doorbell rang.

She opened the door to three smiling faces who no doubt got a whiff of the food as they almost bulldozed past her. She was glad that part was a success, at least.

“So how are you guys doing?” she asked, trying to start off the get together on a friendly note.

“Well, Raquel and I just finished working out and Toni.. What did you say you were doing again?” Dakota stated and then asked.

“Mmmm? Oh, I was getting some new gear,” Toni said, her mouth full with lobster, “I’m really sorry Candice but I hadn’t eaten today and it looked so nice.”

“That’s fine Toni. It was for you anyway.” Candice said, a smile appearing on her face because of the Australian’s love for the food. She hadn’t quite gotten a chance to ask Toni exactly why she liked lobster so much, but one day she’ll tell her.

“Where’s Johnny?” Raquel asked, the Latina taking Toni’s initiative and digging into the turkey.

“In the bedroom, watching the game.”

“Don’t you two usually watch together?”

“Yes, but today, we’ve got something important to do.” The captain of Team Candice and the namesake, (Dakota suggested Task Force X but was rejected), then went over to the couch and picked up her iPad. She flicked through a few unneeded pictures (she didn’t know why she had a picture of Pawdme’s paw) before settling on the picture of the plans she spent last night drawing up.

“I figured since we’re up against some tough competition, we’d best prepare as well as we can. No four on 1 attacks this time.” That was slightly disappointing to her as they had enjoyed the use of the numbers game a lot over the past few weeks, but this time, they had to go toe to toe.

“Umm, Candice?” Dakota said, her hand raised in the air like a diligent student.

“Dakota, you don’t actually have to put your hand up.” Candice said with a soft smile.

“Ah, sorry. Force of habit,” the Kiwi said, blushing slightly in her embarrassment, “who’s gonna be the first one going into the cages?” It was a valid question. They had unexpectedly lost the advantage match so they would have to enter first. The person who went in first usually would be the one to set the pace and hang on, Candice herself knowing that personally.

“Well, I was gonna suggest that....” The sentence wasn’t completed as the trio were startled by the shout of Dakota who’s shocked face melted into a warm wide grin as she realized the mysterious person who touched her was Pawdme. The captain of Team Kick sunk to her feet and began to play with the Garganos’ dog, rubbing her belly and giving her high fives.

“Dakota, are you gonna listen to what I’m saying, or are you gonna play with Pawdme?” Candice sighed and asked, already knowing the answer. Every time she came over, this always happens.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” she responded, clearly distracted by the rather cute pup.

Candice just shook her head and turned her attention to Toni and Raquel. Toni was, albeit still, paying a lot of attention to her lobster, but she was at least listening. “So, Raquel, I think you should enter the ring second. That way you can help clean up any messes we might have dealing with two of Team Shotzi’s members.”

“I got you Cap,” Raquel said, before she was interrupted by the throat clearing of one Dakota Kai. “sorry, other cap.” Dakota nodded her head and continued playing with Pawdme. Raquel was about to speak again when a loud cheer interrupted her. Johnny came out (well, ran out) of the bedroom like an excited kid who was bringing a report card for their parents to see.

“Sorry, Candice, but I just gotta tell you. I got it. My bet actually paid off!” the exuberant founder of the Gargano Way stated, as proud as he possibly could be.

“What bet is that?” Toni asked, her face showing one of intrigue and interest.

“He bet $500 that Higgins would score two touchdowns this game. It obviously paid off.” Candice stated, giggling at her husband’s excitement over it.

“Yep! Oh baby, Hollywood’s coming in clutch once again!” Johnny said.

“Hollywood, eh?” Toni said, intrigued by the nickname. Her boyfriend watched it, but she never paid attention when he talked football. She had no idea what a touchdown was, but it was obviously good as he got two, and Johnny was happy. She honestly knew little about sports other than wrestling, but was willing to try it if it was interesting to her.

Candice turned to see Raquel looking sheepishly at her, almost like there was something she wanted to say, but felt like it would be wrong to. “If you’re gonna say it, go ahead and say it, Raquel.”

“It’s the Cowboys, they’re playing the Browns. I mistimed the schedule. I thought we had more time before the game began.” the large Latina said, her point coming across very clearly.

“Fine.... go ahead and watch the game. But you better listen when Toni and I talk about the plan with you.” Candice said, like an exasperated mom.

“Thank you so much!” Raquel said as she hurried inside with Johnny, not before flicking Dakota for her interruption earlier, who responded with a playful jab in kind.

“Score’s 21-14 right now. Best watch your head there, the doorway’s a bit..... Ah see I told you to watch your head.” Johnny told her, his warning coming too late.

“Well, Dakota’s playing with Pawdme so her attention is gone, essentially. Raquel’s watching the game with Johnny, so it’s up to the two of us. You ready Toni? Toni?” Candice explained before trying to get Toni’s attention. She then heard a small sound before listening closer and hearing the loud but soft music of Queen, in particular, ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’. Toni had her headphones in her ear and was scrolling down her phone on Twitter. Candice could only shake her head and smirk. She was 25 once too, and she did the same thing, albeit with a less high-tech phone.

She sighed, and she shut down the iPad. It was low on power, anyway. She did try. She did honest to God try. Maybe being a captain was a lot more difficult than Rhea made it out to be. Then again, she never had any team meetings. She was better than her there. Maybe one day when she’s less mad at her for the multi-woman beat down thing, she and Rhea would have a talk about WarGames last year that they had been meaning to have. She checked the clock, 3:30. It had only been a half hour. She shook her head and took out the cupcake she had brought for herself to eat as she let the vocalizing of Freddie Mercury send her thoughts to another place. Come Sunday, they’d just wing it.

Everything hurts. Everything aches. Turns out WarGames isn’t the most pleasant experience in the world. You’d think Candice would realize that after getting her ass kicked by four women for almost half an hour last year. But in her mind, Shotzi needed to be punished. Unfortunately, that punishment meant a broken arm and feeling very, very sore. But a win is a win, and she’s won two WarGames matches now, so that was nice. She looked to her left and gave a warm smile to Toni Storm, who responded in kind before wincing a bit as she tried to move fully on her side to turn to her friend.

“Hey..... thanks for letting us crash at your place for tonight and heal up.” the Aussie said in recognition of the Garganos’ hospitality. Candice (well, mostly Johnny) had decided that the rest of Team Candice could stay at their house tonight, so they wouldn’t have to drive home in pain. It was the least she could do as they put their bodies on the line tonight to win.

“It’s no problem, really. We all needed a place to rest and recuperate after the match and we have more than enough room here.” Candice replied.

“I’m sure Dakota is very thankful for your help, as well. She’ll just let you know when she wakes up. She got hammered, literally.” Toni said, as Candice turned to her right to see a soundly sleeping Dakota Kai, who had taken the lion’s share of the punishment. She had been the most difficult to get into bed because of her soreness and hadn’t taken long to fall asleep.

“You guys can thank me by healing up and getting better” Candice then took the bell she had on her chest and rang it as loud but as gentle as she could in order to alert the person who gave it to her. She had been in the opposite role many a time, but now she was glad it was her turn to be pampered. The door flew open to reveal an attentive Johnny Gargano awaiting his next order.

“You rang?”

“Could you bring me a cup of water, please? My throat’s a little parched.” Candice asked nicely.

“No problem. Nurse Gargano is at your service.“ Johnny said with a salute as he went off to get the drink. Yeah, Candice could definitely get used to this.

Toni tossed and turned in bed as she suffered from the nightmare again. It was the third time in four weeks she had gotten it, and it wasn’t stopping anytime soon. She honestly hadn’t wanted to do it at all, but she rolled to her side in order to fight off the seemingly invisible enemy and she hit Dakota as she flew off the bed and fell down on the surprisingly soft carpet. Dakota would need to make a mental note to tell them about it. The sudden thud and that wail of pain woke Candice up from her slumber and shook Toni from her nightmare. The bell was rung, and it was Raquel, not Johnny, who had answered. In addition to winning the match for the team, Raquel had taken the least amount of damage and so was fit for duties as a caretaker temporarily.

“What happened? What’s going on?” Raquel asked as she burst in.

Candice looked over to the fallen Kiwi and then the shaking Aussie, and put two and two together. When she switched places with Toni, she didn’t expect this to happen. “Toni had a nightmare, swung wildly and knocked off Dakota.”

Dakota hadn’t realized when it happened. All she knew was that she was on the floor, in the air, and then back on the bed. As her realization started sinking in, she noticed the towering figure above her and smiled. “Thanks.”

“No problem. You’re my Hermana. I wanna do stuff like this for you.” Raquel said, straightening and fluffing Dakota’s pillow.

Dakota wasn’t a multilingual person, far from it. But she knew a little bit of Spanish and knew that Hermana meant sister. She smiled at the term of endearment by the Latina. “Sister, eh? Does that mean I get to borrow your clothes? I might need to fix some of them though, just to fit little old me.” Dakota said, smiling at her friend.

“Oh, shut up.” Raquel said laughing as she ruffled Dakota’s mane and left the room, seeing that the other problem was being well handled by Candice.

Candice had her arm around Toni and was rubbing her shoulder as the Aussie finally calmed down. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s ok. You’re alright now. What was the dream about?”

“...... The I quit match.” Toni said after a few seconds of building up courage to say it. Candice understood immediately. It was Toni’s last match in NXT UK and she’d almost gotten seriously hurt towards the end. She assumed the nightmare stemmed from the WarGames recently and all the stuff around it must have reawakened it in her.

Candice took Toni’s hand in hers and held it tight. “Hey, you don’t have to worry about that now. I’m here, with you, in this nice bed. I’ve got your hand, You’re safe. Now I think we can lie back down and go to sleep, but as long as you know that I’ve got you. Ok?”

“Ok.” Toni said, nodding. Toni eased back onto the bed and kept a strong hold of Candice’s hand. Candice stayed up until she felt the strong grip loosen and loosen until she looked over and saw her sleeping. Candice, upon seeing that, was now content. She took a little longer, but she also eventually fell back to sleep as well, dreaming of her Prince Charming..

“Rise and shine, people! Up and at them. Time for breakfast.” Johnny shouted as the clock struck 8:00 am. Seeing as they were normally early risers, Johnny decided to let them sleep in a bit but now, he was ready. The three women sleepily walked out of the bedroom, still sore but less so than last night.

“Morning honey.” Candice said as she walked over and kissed her husband to greet him. She did smirk at the gagging sounds done by Dakota and Toni mocking her for her show of affection.

“Get a room you two.” Toni said, feeling much better after her nightmare last night.

“It’s our house, thank you very much. So what do you have prepared for us today, Chef Gargano?” Candice said laughing.

“Well, with some.... ok a lot of help from Raquel, we got up early, and we made toast and eggs and sandwiches and we got orange juice and water. All you need for a lovely breakfast to give you a good start to the day.” Johnny said, looking quite proud of his accomplishment, well, his and Raquel’s accomplishment.

“I didn’t know you could cook.” Dakota admitted to her large friend.

“You never asked. Ten months together and you never once asked if I could cook?” Raquel questioned with an air of lightheartedness surrounding it.

“Never got the chance?” Dakota said in response.

“Eat your damn breakfast. I worked hard on it so you best enjoy it.” Raquel said smiling as she sat down to eat, which gave the cue to everyone else to dig in.

“Yes, sir.” Dakota said saluting the Texan. The five of them sat down and ate their well-prepared breakfast, talking about the matches and how it went. Johnny and Candice spoke about bringing in Austin and Indi full time to train them. Toni talked about challenging Io, much to the annoyance of Raquel, but they agreed they’d settle in the ring when the time came. Dakota, to what she thought was away from Candice’s view, snuck food under the table for Pawdme, until Candice caught her but allowed her to give one piece to the dog before she had to stop. Eventually the breakfast was finished and Toni, Raquel and Dakota said their goodbyes and went home. Later that day, the Garganos were having a chat about the experience.

“I really think we should do this more often,” Johnny said as he kissed Candice’s arm injured, “of course, hopefully when you’re not hurt.”

“Well, the next time that WarGames comes around....,” Candice said as she kissed his cheek before slapping him on the head, “you go in the cage instead.” she said, laughing as Johnny rubbed his head in pain.

[kathyprior4200]

The Shadows of Hazbin

Alastor’s shadow isn’t the only being of darkness around.

 In fact, Hell is full of shadows and various monsters, just itching for flesh and chaos. We have seen Alastor controlling voodoo imps and shadowy deer, for example. The imps would burn buildings, feast on deer and loot stores. Every demon has a shadow that acts as its own entity, despite being connected to their owners. The shadows represent the dark subconscious desires of the host, desires both in Hell and the thoughts of the sinner when they were alive. In addition, the shadow reflects the full demon form of the sinner or Hell-Born and in fact, enables them to transform. When in their full demon forms, the demon hosts often give into their primal urges and evil natures, unless they can fully control…who they are inside.

 Alastor can control his shadow and minions…to a certain extent. If he is not careful, even the Radio Demon could be possessed as well.

 Like the Exterminators and angels in Heaven, there exists an evil conspiracy in Hell as well. The shadows want total freedom in Hell…and all the souls that come with it. They may even try to free Satan from the icy Ring of Treachery. Satan is the red goat, black suit-wearing evil counterpart of Lucifer. Like Lucifer, he is a powerful ruler of Hell, along with Beezlebub the fly lord, Leviathan the sea monster, Beal, etc. Satan was once a part of Lucifer before he was expelled from him and banished to the darkest district. Lucifer and Satan merged could stand up against God and Adina, the evil angel from Zoophobia. But with that much power comes the risk of Lucifer going deranged and initiating a Hell-wide massacre. Charlie, too, has her shadow and her dark side, and if left unchecked, she could engulf Hell and her friends in “cleansing” flames.

 There are a select group of shadows…the shadows of the characters! Charlie, Vaggie, Angel etc. all have shadows that look different and occasionally manifest, often when they are by themselves or sleeping.

 Eilrahc (eel-ra-uh-c): Charlie’s shadow.

Her shadow appears as a look-alike figure with two horns, sharp grinning teeth and long hair. The eyes are often orange-red. Her shadow is Charlie’s evil side/subconscious. Unlike Charlie who sees the good in everyone, her shadow wants Charlie to unlock her powerful potential and to instill fear in her subjects. Her shadow doesn’t believe in redemption, only in having people respect her completely. (Charlie wants to be loved and believed in, but it is hard). Charlie’s evil form is encouraged and brought forth by both Lucifer being stern and by Alastor’s trickery.

There are times when Charlie can get violent, such as when she fought Katie Killjoy on the table at the news station. Charlie going into her demon from was just for show, but the power was still there. Charlie’s shadow doesn’t believe in redemption, but will help Charlie reach her goal, even if it means forcing people to “redeem” themselves.

 Eiggav (e-gav): Vaggie’s shadow.

Eiggav appears as a look-alike to Vaggie, except with a gaunt face, two horns, glowing purple eyes and moth-like features. Her shadow has dark wings with glowing purple eyes, representing her full demon form.

Vagatha has hated men ever since she could remember. Her father, Valentino was abusive to her and her mother. Vaggie died of a brutal gang rape, the men taunting her for being a prostitute, a lesbian and for being Latina. Vaggie’s shadow is an expert in using weapons and represents Vaggie’s anger and desire to kill jerk men. Eiggav pours out anger and helps make Vaggie into a deadly fighter. But she also deters Vaggie from opening her mind and being more trustworthy.

    Tsud Legna (t-sud- leg-na): Angel Dust’s shadow.

This shadow briefly appeared during Angel Dust’s battle against the Egg Bois, standing behind Angel, very tall after sending an egg flying. His shadow is tall with six arms, venomous fangs and narrowed pink eyes.

Angel’s shadow represents Angel’s dirty thoughts and bad habits, also as Anthony when he lived in New York. Like Valentino, he encourages Angel to keep doing drugs, be a porn star and pursue a life of freedom. The shadow wants Angel to love who he loves, be violent and seek out money and stimulation. Yet the shadow is also his voice of doubt, saying that Valentino and Henroin will never treat him as an equal. That his father hates him for being gay and leaving the mafia. (His shadow likes to mess with him like the shadows of other demon hosts).

 Rotsala (rot-sala): Alastor’s shadow.

This shadow made an appearance during Alastor’s reprise dance number at the hotel. The shadow appears to walk in through the fireplace, grinning at Alastor before vanishing (like Dr. Facilier’s shadow). The shadow looks like Alastor, with deer-like tufts, sharp teeth, and antlers. At times, the shadow looks like a wendigo. He often has glowing teal eyes and a wide grin.

Like the wendigo, Rotsala is always hungry for the next kill. He was created by dark magic and serves as Alastor’s guide/spy. Rotsala appears to be a leader among the other shadows. Alastor can send his shadow to hunt or spy on people. His shadow represents Alastor’s murderous intentions, but also his deep seated fears such as fear of dogs and his abusive father. Alastor had many dark thoughts when he was surrounded by racism and violence in New Orleans. His shadow would love to see everyone possessed or tortured for entertainment. Like Alastor, Rotsala loves music.

 Rotsala is attracted to Charlie and her shadow, and reveals feelings and intentions that Alastor often hides.

 Ytffin (yeet-fin): Niffty’s shadow.

This small little shadow has a large yellow eye, curly hair and sharp teeth. She is as fast as Niffty, often enjoying “cleansing” parts of Hell and disposing of bodies. The shadow represents Niffty’s sexual obsession with men, along with a hidden fear of them. Niffty’s shadow urges Niffty to always be busy with cleaning, cooking, sewing, writing and pursuing men. As a Japanese woman named Nefuti in the 1950s in California, Niffty learned about housekeeping and cleanliness very early on (but also killed a man, which led to her death in a fireplace).

   Ksuh (k-suh): Husk’s shadow.

This grumpy shadow has Husk’s cat-like features and angry yellow glowing eyes.  The dark thoughts also apply to Husk as a human: Hilario in Las Vegas, Nevada. His shadow looks like Husk’s demon form: a fierce large cat that has the build of a mountain lion. Husk often takes this form when protecting Alastor from enemy attackers. Husk’s shadow represents Husk’s additions and his traumatic past. Husk developed a gambling and drinking addiction early on in life and also fought during several wars. The trauma got to him, and he died of over-drinking and depression at age 75. But his shadow encourages him to seek more money, drink more booze and shut people out. Husk enjoys magic shows and lived a while (nine lives) but his curiosity killed him in time (curiosity killed the cat). However, Husk has the potential to be softer and more open to others, even finding love, which he had lost years ago.

 Xov: Vox’s shadow.

Born in Russia as Vincent, he took control of the television industry in the U.S., hosting game shows and scamming people in pursuit of money. He was also racist to people like Alastor and treated women as trophies. He later died after a TV fell on his head. Vox quickly rose to power as a TV Overlord, gaining control of electricity and media brainwashing. He may even be more powerful than Alastor.

  Onitnelav: Valentino’s shadow.

Valentino was a wealthy Brooklyn pimp and human trafficker in his human life, before he was arrested and sentenced to death. He was also father to Vagatha. When he arrived in Hell, he took over the porn industry, taking many clients such as Angel Dust. Like Vox and Velvet, he enjoys his powerful status and manipulating others to his benefit.

 Tevlev: Velvet’s shadow.

Venessa was Velvet’s human name. In life, she was African American and became popular on social media. She enjoyed spreading gossip about others along with eating sweets and playing with dolls. But Vanessa was soon bullied and this led to her killing people with a knife while pretending to be innocent. She later stabbed herself to avoid being arrested. In Hell, she became the Harley Quinn-like demon of social media.

    Bmob Irrehc: Cherri Bomb’s shadow.

Cherri Bomb’s shadow has hot pink eyes and hair that appears as flames. Cherri was a rebel and feminist in Australia, who fought to the extremes in protests. She died at a young age in the 80s after an explosion she had caused. She is Angel Dust’s partner in crime. Her shadow represents her explosive tendencies and her fear of her abusive ex-boyfriend.

 Suoitnep Ris: Sir Pentious’ shadow.

Sir Pentious was an aristocrat and a black-haired evil inventor during the Industrial Revolution before he died from a mechanical failure in a blizzard. He commands his Egg Bois and wants to take over Hell. He also has a desire to be part of the “cool club” of Overlords Vox, Valentino and Velvet.

 Yojllik Eitak: Katie Killjoy’s shadow.

Katie basked in wealth and status. Katie Killjoy died in 1992 from being crushed by news equipment from above. Her shadow represents her love of gossip, sexual lust toward men and her love of bringing others down and high ratings.

   Hcnert Mot: Tom Trench’s shadow.

Tom Trench’s shadow also has a gas mask on, and is surrounded by noxious gas and green fumes. Tom is a blonde man who fought with the Nazis/Germany. He had killed many people but he didn’t have a choice. He eventually died from gas in the trenches, before becoming a news anchor in Hell. His shadow represents his violent tendencies and sexual remarks.

 Yllom: Molly’s shadow.

Molly’s shadow appears as a fierce spider with pink eyes and hearts.

 Ssinkcara: Arackniss’ shadow.

Appears similar to Angel’s shadow but even darker.

 Niorneh: Henroin’s shadow.

 Htilil: Lilith’s shadow.

Reficul: Lucifer’s shadow.

Elzzar and Elzzad: Razzle and Dazzle’s shadows.

Asleh: Helsa’s shadow.

Nahtaives: Seviathan’s shadow.

 Yzmim: Mimzy’s shadow.

Mimzy’s shadow has large lavender glowing eyes, thick hips and hair, and features of a mockingbird. Mimzy as Majorie in life, wanted fame, attention, wealth and love for many years, both on Earth and in Hell. She performs at her club and basks in the spotlight. In life, she was a star who killed her husband to get his insurance money. She was also in love with Alastor and gets jealous and emotional when she doesn’t get her way. Mimzy’s shadow represents her selfish and materialistic tendencies.

 Inimyrc: Crymini’s shadow.

Crymini’s shadow takes on the form of a hellhound with sharp teeth, skull markings and light red eyes. Her shadow represents her crimes in life and the afterlife: vandalizing, smoking, killing, drugs, porn, and being a delinquent. She was a typical My Chemical Romance emo teenager in the 90s until her death. Crymini has more porn than Angel Dust and might have more addictions than he does. Crymini’s good traits include her love of rock/metal music, her eventual growth as a Hazbin Hotel client, and her later acquaintance with fellow hellhound Loona.

  Retxab: Baxter’s shadow.

Baxter’s shadow takes on Baxter’s demon form, a large anglerfish monster with teal eyes and markings. Baxter’s shadow represents Baxter’s unethical experiments and his need to be alone all the time. Baxter had died on a boat and drowned in his life, while in pursuit to be the smartest most powerful inventor in Germany. Baxter often grows creatures in tanks, builds robots, makes deadly chemicals, weapons and drugs for Velvet, Sir Pentious and secret dealers.

 Eisor: Rosie’s shadow.

Rosie was born in Hell, is an Overlord and owns an emporium. She is like an evil Mary Poppins during the Day of the Dead. She likes to sing with Alastor and be a cruel CEO to her workers. She is an elegant woman of class and style, also a model.

Rosie seeks to gain more power and influence, wanting people to eventually become her sewing slaves. She believes that the Hell-Born are superior to sinners. Like Lucifer, she attempts to stop Charlie’s plan from working.

  Steggun Taf: Fat Nugget’s shadow.

 Oor: Roo’s shadow.

Roo’s shadow represents her demon form, taking the shape of a monstrous kangaroo with glowing orange eyes and teeth. Roo as Roxanne was born in Australia and worked as a trash picker. Kanga was her older sister and rival who went to heaven. Roo killed people and disposed of them in dumpsters and incinerators. She later died in an incinerator after trying to escape from police. In Hell, she is the Trash Queen, disposing bodies and consuming demons with her orange parasite from her mouth. She also lives in the junkyard, surrounded by trash every day. Roo likes metal music, herbs, feasting on demons and making trash into clothing.

 Alliv: Villa’s shadow.

Oztilb: Blitzo’s shadow. (the o is still silent)

Eixxom: Moxxie’s shadow

Eillim: Millie’s shadow.

Anool: Loona’s shadow.

Salots: Stolas’ shadow.

Aivatco: Octavia’s shadow.

Zzif Obor: Robo Fizz’s shadow.

[hazel-salmon]

after dark

What turn ons/kinks/fetishes does your muse have?

Almost anything that gives her the upperhand, but face-sitting is easily at the top of her list. Once she got over the initial fear of potentially suffocating him, it became one of her absolute favorite things to do. A queen needs her throne after all.

What turns your muse off?

Degredation. Hazel can understand the appeal, but it’s just not for her. She’d much rather hear compliments and praise during sex than to have insults constantly hurled at her.

What was their first kiss like?

Hazel spent years imagining what her first kiss would be like and who she would share it with, but the end result was one she had never planned for. As she and Adonis grew closer, the dreamy bubble she had spent so much time living in finally popped and reality took its place. Hazel confided in Scout about her fears of being an inadequate kisser, and in return, she offered more than just advice. A couple of innocent pecks quickly turned into Hazel pinning Scout to the bed and climbing on top of her. It took them both by surprise, but it hardly stopped their “practice”.

What was their first time like?

Nerve-wracking. Pain was the least of her worries throughout the experience. Instead, she silently fixated on what her body looked like and whether or not Adonis was having a good time. She eventually learned how to separate herself from those feelings and actually enjoy sex, but she’s thankful for his patience.

What does your muse fantasize about?

For a while, Hazel didn’t have much to work on. She would fantasize about the idea of having sex and what it would be like, but she only ever had her imagination and a little bit of porn to rely on...until Adonis and sometimes Scout, that is.

After losing her virginity, she dreamt up all kinds of scenarios. Quickies before her parents got home, sex in his car, shower sex, cutting class to fool around...the possibilities were suddenly endless, and she made it her new mission to start ticking off the boxes.

Are they dominant in bed?

In a surprising turn of events, yes. Hazel is almost a complete opposite version of herself in the bedroom. Her day to day life often makes her feel small and insignificant, but she makes up for that lack of control during sex. She still enjoys when Adonis takes charge, of course, but nothing gets her off quicker than feeling powerful.

Do they initiate sex?

Yes. Not as often in the beginning of their relationship, but it becomes more of an equal playing field over time. Her insecurities hold her back for a while, but that doesn’t last long with Adonis as her partner.

How often are they having sex with their partner? (1 as never touching themselves or others and 10 being humping on the couch right now)

While Hazel may be more of a romantic at heart, she still considers sex to be an important part of relationships. She’s very attracted to Adonis and craves sex regularly, so I’d give them a 7 or 8.

How kinky are they? (1 being vanilla with the lights off and 10 meaning they have a sex dungeon in their basement)

She might not be brandishing any chains and whips, but Hazel still sits at about a 6 or 7. She can be pretty commanding and feisty in the bedroom and keeps a very open mind about sex. She’s always eager to hear suggestions and enjoys surprising Adonis with a new position or outfit.

Do they fuck, have sex, or make love?

They regularly have sex, and she enjoys slow, passionate love making every now and then, but when Hazel is at her most confident, she absolutely fucks him. Those are secretly some of her favorite times.

Which time was the best according to your muse?

Their first Halloween together. Her nurse costume had taken more of an effect on him than Hazel had intended, and it lit a fire under her ass. She quickly settled into her role for the night, until she could finally slip away to “treat her patient”. Roleplay became a much bigger part of their sex life after that night.

Which time was the worst according to your muse?

Her first time. Adonis did what he could to make her feel as comfortable as possible, but it was still difficult to get out of her head. However, it was comforting to find out later that most first times are awkward and never what movies and TV make them out to be.

What’s something your muse wants but is too afraid/embarrassed to ask for?

Hazel has been interested in tying Adonis up for quite some time, but she’s not sure if he’d be up for that level of restraint. It’s not that she’s afraid to ask, she just hasn’t found the right moment to bring it up.

Is your muse satisfied with their partner?

Absolutely!

If they could change one thing about their sexual relationship or partner, what would it be?

Hazel is more than happy with their sexual relationship just the way it is, but she certainly wouldn’t object if he wanted to explore some kinkier things, like blindfolds and cuffs.

What would they say to describe their last sexual encounter?

Hazel doesn’t kiss and tell, but her bedroom walls are thin enough to tell the whole story. Sorry Nadia.

Do they masturbate?

Yes. Hazel was gifted with an active imagination, and she eventually found new ways of putting it to use as a teenager. Once she started having sex, she could recall memories quite vividly, making her “alone time” that much more intense.

What’s something that never fails to make them horny?

Having her neck and chest kissed. Hazel had no clue that part of her body was so sensitive until it it was already happening for the first time. It was almost as if a switch had been flipped, and her body reacted involuntarily. She assumed it was just a new feeling and that she would get used to it with time, but even now, she can barely control herself whenever she’s being kissed there.

Something they’re ashamed of doing in the bedroom?

She’s slowly developed a better relationship with her body over time, but for a while, it was the thing that brought her the most shame. Hazel had always believed that every shape, size, and color was beautiful, but those rules ceased to apply whenever she looked in the mirror. That mindset frequently forced her to hold back during intimate moments, and it wasn’t until Adonis finally called her out on it that she buckled down and began working on her confidence and building a healthier connection with herself.

Do they sext their partner?

For sure. Nadia has taught her a thing or two over the years about angles, and it would be a waste not to put that training to good use.

Would they ever consider a threesome/group sex?

Probably not. The idea of Adonis being with another woman, even in a context where Hazel would also be involved, doesn’t sit well with her. She’s not a possessive partner, but she’s a firm believer in monogamy. If she wanted multiple partners, she would just stay single.

Would they ever let anyone watch them pleasure themselves or their partner?

Outside of a couple distant universes, probably not. Being intimate also means being vulnerable, and Hazel isn’t willing to share that side of herself with just anyone. She wants Adonis’ attention, and his attention only.

Are they willing to use toys? Do they own any?

After a girls’ trip to a sex shop, Hazel bought something small for herself to try, but she ultimately prefers the “acoustic” method.

Has anyone ever walked in on them during an intimate moment? How did they respond to being interrupted?

No, and thank GOD. Both of their parents have busy work lives, so they often have the house to themselves...though there was that one time Sweet Honey walked in on them getting a little handsy in his living room. She and Adonis were totally cool about it, but Hazel is still mortified to this day.

Has their partner ever walked in on them pleasuring themself?

She considers masturbation to be a pretty private act and would probably be horrified if anyone walked in on her while doing it. However, if it was something Adonis wanted to see, she could consider making an exception...

Favorite position?

Cowgirl. Between lack of experience and knowing there was no way to hide her body in that position, it took a little time for her to muster up the courage to get on top. But once Hazel tried it, there was no looking back.

Favorite act to perform?

Any kind of teasing. It’s another way for her to take control, and watching him get riled up to the point of almost begging turns Hazel on more than she’d like to admit.

Something they’re embarrassed to admit they like?

She and Adonis agreed pretty early on that they’d always make an effort to be open with one another, especially when it came to intimacy and boundaries. Hazel has genuinely worked to keep that promise, so she doesn’t feel nearly as embarrassed to talk with him about her desires anymore. However, talking with friends about sex is still something she hasn’t fully warmed up to. If the conversation is brought up, Hazel will engage, but she’s still pretty private about her kinks.

How would a porn video of your muse be titled?

Sadly, probably some gross, race-bait-y title. She’d dominate the Latina category.

Outdoor sex, yay or nay?

Hazel isn’t crazy about it, but growing up by the ocean her entire life has always made her curious about beach sex.

If they had to pick someone other than their endgame to have sex with, who would it be?

Scout. Hazel has always found her attractive, and their night together was definitely an awakening of sorts for her. Since then, there’s always been a hint of tension between them. While single, I’m sure they have plenty more of those “sleepovers”. Keeping it as their little secret only makes it ten times hotter, too.

Be honest: have they ever fooled around at someone else’s house?

Absolutely. Nadia has taken advantage of their home, so Hazel is simply returning the favor.

Would they consider pegging/getting pegged?

She’s likely considered it for the dominant aspect alone, but Hazel isn’t dying to try it. She doubts Adonis would enjoy it anyways, so it’s a subject that’s been left untouched.

[intersex-ionality]

What follows is a continuation of this discussion with @korrasera .I’m unclear on whether korrasera wants to continue talking about the matter, and that thread is itself extremely long. So, I’m making a new post to explore the matter further and explain my reasoning.

Brooklyn 99 is a magnificent show that portrays black men as wholly rounded, sympathetic characters. That portrays Latina women as diverse and intelligent. That portrays the exhaustion of being a Jew in a Christian society with grace and humour. That portrays the complexities and hurdles of queer life, without turning queerness into a tragedy.

All of these things are true, and all of them are good.

And all of this goodness comes from police.

The show consistently, relentlessly, presents police as good people who sometimes get caught up in a bad or corrupt system.

In fact, these police are so good that they can single-handedly counter the entire history of police violence in the lives of the people around them.

Let’s begin with Captain Holt’s husband, Kevin.

When introduced, Kevin is cold, passive-aggressive, and generally unpleasant towards the police his husband works with. This is portrayed as a terrible character flaw which he must ultimately overcome.

It’s revealed that his distaste for Holt’s coworkers is because for the last 40 years, they have been destroying Holt’s life and their marriage, through sustained, relentless bigotry, both racism and homophobia. But, you see, those were the bad cops. Good cops like the show’s main characters would never do something so horrible.

Therefore, Kevin's perfectly justified, and frankly, correct discomfort around police is a flaw that he needs to fix, and that he is ultimately able to fix when the good cops prove to him that, actually, those other cops were just some bad apples and there are good apples too (and please don’t pay any attention to the fact that bad apples spread rot so quickly through an entire warehouse).

It is only once he gives up his completely justified distrust of people who have been destroying his family for decades, that he is seen as a compassionate and caring character. Only once he accepts that Not All Cops Are Like That does he become the empathetic and kind character we see in later seasons.

There are people who believe, wholeheartedly, that because B99 shows that there are bad cops in the world, it cannot be pro-police. But, most people in the world don’t think all cops are good people, just that most cops are, and that when police violate human rights, they do so for a justified reason. A reason like imprisoning murderers or removing other, corrupt cops from the force.

The reasons that the main characters of B99 also always have for their actions. In the narratives of B99, when police violate human rights, they are always justified in doing so.

When Captain Holt makes a deal to help a mob boss, rather than facing any meaningful consequences for this action, his whole precinct joins together to cover up the deal. They do so by “ensuring” that the mob boss can’t do any harm to anyone. But, they nonetheless engage in a department-wide cover-up of police corruption. This is portrayed positively, as a coming together for the team.

The fact that the department reveals and overcomes other forms of police corruption on sere to prove that when these cops, the good cops do it, it’s justified. It’s righteous. Because they are doing it for good reasons, not bad ones.

When Holt and Jake take recording and observation hardware from the precinct without permission (this is theft, this equipment is stolen), and use it to trick someone into making a confession on tape, then use this recording as a bartering chip to get the criminal to do what they want, this too is justified narrative. They don’t have another choice! Besides, undisclosed recording is legal in New York (though, blackmailing people with those recordings is still illegal, and so is stealing police grades observation equipment, but don’t pay that any mind).

And just in case that early-season blackmail story-line wasn’t enough, the latest season ends with almost beat for beat the same blackmail story-line, except this time the recording equipment isn’t stolen. Instead, a confidential cell phone is illegally cloned and used as evidence to blackmail the chief of police into stepping down. But it’s okay for the heroes to steal the private property of a public figure because he’s a bad guy and they’re doing it for the right reasons.

And, if you’re already inclined to think positively about police, then, when in the real world you see someone do the same thing, you might be just that little bit more willing to believe that their justifications make up for it. Because, again and again, even on exceptionally progressive, well-crafted shows like B99, when the “good cops” engage in flagrant violations of human rights, they’re doing it for the right reasons. They’re working outside the law, but it’s okay because we can trust them to ignore the safety protocols.

Any time the narrative discusses the rightful consequences the main characters should face for these absurd miscarriages of justice, they are proven to have been right all along. Jake goes to prison for being a “corrupt cop” because he is framed by a much worse policeman. But the things he’s framed for are all things he has actually done. Breaking the chain of evidence, taking restricted materiel out of lock-up, keeping confidential case records in his home instead of in the records rooms. He’s “framed” in that we, as the audience, know he did those things for “the right reasons.”

And that gives people a reasonable doubt, when a real-world corrupt cop does all the same things, except he actually is doing them for the sake of corruption. Because we have been primed to see those actions as “technically against the rules, but only if you’re a bad guy.” And the cops on B99 aren’t bad guys. They’re the good cops! The progressive ones! The compassionate ones!

The ones who lock sex workers up in & make fun of them for having STIs. But it’s fine when the good cops do it, again and again, as a recurring gag. Because, hey, they’re diverse!

When Jake Peralta keeps a man trapped in an interrogation room for almost a full 24 hours without sleep or food and screams loud, relentless music at him, lies to him about what they know, threatens a young black man with jail time to force a confession out of him?

Sleep deprivation, isolation, exposure to loud noises, threats, all of these are forms of torture. But Jake’s right. The man was a murderer. And technically, those tortures are legal, so it’s fine. Jake himself, in the episode, talks about how it’s actually really fucked up that he can do all of these things. And then he does them anyway and is rewarded for it.

Again and again, the show says, “police malpractice and violence is bad,” and again and again, it tacks on, “except when our protagonists do it because they're doing it for the right reasons.” The thesis of the show could easily be described as, “police malpractice is a horrible crime that must be overcome., and the only way to overcome it is with more police malpractice.”

And that feeds directly into people believing that when the cops in their home town do something horrible, they were probably justified too. Because the police in their town are “the good ones” too.

This isn’t like anti-shippers with their proclamations that fan-fiction is making people think raping children is totally a good thing. As a general rule, it’s accepted in our culture that raping children is fucking heinous. Fan-fiction isn’t going to stand up in the face of that. In fact, it’s so accepted that actual science doesn’t stand up in the face of it (what a great time to remind everyone that most rape of children is not perpetrated because of sexual attraction but because of violent power-seeking behaviour, the same as any other type of rape, and pretending otherwise makes it harder to combat this specific form of rape).

The general opinion of policing in the US, however, is positive. The consensus of most people is that “most cops are good, it’s just a few bad apples who need to be thrown out before they rot the rest of the barrel.” B99 espouses that exact same message. It completely matches the general perspective of police in the US. And for people who already hold those views because they’re the dominant ideological framework? Shows like B99 reinforce them. For people who are on the fence, shows like B99 make supporting police even when they’re miscarrying justice and abusing human rights, seem normal.

Pretending that this unfortunate truth is just “overly simplistic” and an attempt to silence discussion is wildly misrepresenting the facts of the show, the fandom, and the way propaganda works.

Propaganda is biased media that influences other people to share those same biases. And while most of B99’s biases are positive, and most of its goals are laudable, the fact of the matter is, it’s a show where cops are the heroes. Full stop. There are bad cops, too, but the heroes of the show are the police. And their heroic actions are justified, no matter how extrajudicial or immoral they are. Their ends always justify their means, because they’re the heroes.

B99 is magnificent as a piece of representative media. It strives to make the world a better place!

It also does so by portraying cops as the ones making the world a better place even when they’re behaving immorally.

Both of these things are true, and in fact, it is the excellence of the show as a whole that makes it such compelling police propaganda.

ETA: For whatever reason, korrasera is now claiming that I blocked her so that she would not have the chance to respond to this post. That’s incorrect. I have not blocked korrasera, and she is welcome to respond if she likes, just as you all are. I’m happy to continue this discussion if you all like.

I misunderstood that post, but nonetheless, I’m open to continuing this discussion.

[lastsonlost]

GET THE FUCK OUT?  Creepy Uncle Joe Biden is a creepy ass motherfucker?

No shit.

In 2014, I was the 35-year-old Democratic nominee for lieutenant governor in Nevada. The landscape wasn’t looking good for my party that year. There were no high-profile national races to help boost turnout, and after the top candidate bowed out of the governor’s race, “None of the Above” ended up winning the Democratic primary.

So when my campaign heard from Vice-President Joe Biden’s office that he was looking to help me and other Democrats in the state, I was grateful and flattered. His team offered to bring him to a campaign rally in an effort to help boost voter turnout. We set the date for November 1, just three days before election day.

In a state as large but sparsely populated as Nevada, it takes nonstop travel to connect with all its residents. You’re lucky to get properly fed, much less look properly coiffed as female candidates are often required to do. I was exhausted and short on time, so decided to not to wash my hair the morning of the rally. I sprayed some dry shampoo in my hair, raced off to the Reno airport, and flew back to Las Vegas.

The event proceeded as most political events do: coordinated chaos with random problems that no one can predict. I found Eva Longoria, co-founder of the Latino Victory Project, roaming the parking lot trying to figure out how to get inside the union hall. My staff was running around town trying to purchase ferns because according to Biden’s team, no other vegetation was acceptable for the stage.

I found my way to the holding room for the speakers, where everyone was chatting, taking photos, and getting ready to speak to the hundreds of voters in the audience. Just before the speeches, we were ushered to the side of the stage where we were lined up by order of introduction. As I was taking deep breaths and preparing myself to make my case to the crowd, I felt two hands on my shoulders. I froze. “Why is the vice-president of the United States touching me?”

I felt him get closer to me from behind. He leaned further in and inhaled my hair. I was mortified. I thought to myself, “I didn’t wash my hair today and the vice-president of the United States is smelling it. And also, what in the actual fuck? Why is the vice-president of the United States smelling my hair?” He proceeded to plant a big slow kiss on the back of my head. My brain couldn’t process what was happening. I was embarrassed. I was shocked. I was confused. There is a Spanish saying, “tragame tierra,” it means, “earth, swallow me whole.” I couldn’t move and I couldn’t say anything. I wanted nothing more than to get Biden away from me. My name was called and I was never happier to get on stage in front of an audience.

By then, as a young Latina in politics, I had gotten used to feeling like an outsider in rooms dominated by white men. But I had never experienced anything so blatantly inappropriate and unnerving before. Biden was the second-most powerful man in the country and, arguably, one of the most powerful men in the world. He was there to promote me as the right person for the lieutenant governor job. Instead, he made me feel uneasy, gross, and confused. The vice-president of the United States of America had just touched me in an intimate way reserved for close friends, family, or romantic partners — and I felt powerless to do anything about it.

Our strange interaction happened during a pivotal moment in my political career. I’d spent months raising money, talking to voters, and securing endorsements. Biden came to Nevada to speak to my leadership and my potential to be second-in-command — an important role he knew firsthand. But he stopped treating me like a peer the moment he touched me. Even if his behavior wasn’t violent or sexual, it was demeaning and disrespectful. I wasn’t attending the rally as his mentee or even his friend; I was there as the most qualified person for the job.

Imagine you’re at work and a male colleague who you have no personal relationship with approaches you from behind, smells your hair, and kisses you on the head. Now imagine it’s the CEO of the company. If Biden and I worked together in a traditional office, I would have complained to the HR department, but on the campaign trail, there’s no clear path for what to do when a powerful man crosses the line. In politics, you shrug it off, smile for the cameras, and get back to the task of trying to win your race.

After the event, I told a few of my staff what happened. We all talked about the inexplicable weirdness of what he did, but I didn’t plan on telling anyone else. I didn’t have the language or the outlet to talk about what happened. Who do you tell? What do you say? Is it enough of a transgression if a man touches and kisses you without consent, but doesn’t rise to the level of what most people consider sexual assault? I did what most women do, and moved on with my life and my work.

Time passed and pictures started to surface of Vice-President Biden getting uncomfortably close with women and young girls. Biden nuzzling the neckof the Defense secretary’s wife; Biden kissing a senator’s wife on the lips; Biden whispering in women’s ears; Biden snuggling female constituents. I saw obvious discomfort in the women’s faces, and Biden, I’m sure, never thought twice about how it made them feel. I knew I couldn’t say anything publicly about what those pictures surfaced for me; my anger and my resentment grew.

Had I never seen those pictures, I may have been able to give Biden the benefit of the doubt. Had there not been multiple articles written over theyears about the exact same thing — calling his creepy behavior an “open secret” — perhaps it would feel less offensive. And yet despite the steady stream of pictures and the occasional article, Biden retained his title of America’s Favorite Uncle. On occasion that title was downgraded to America’s Creepy Uncle but that in and of itself implied a certain level of acceptance. After all, how many families just tolerate or keep their young children away from the creepy uncle without ever acknowledging that there should be zero tolerance for a man who persistently invades others’ personal space and makes people feel uneasy and gross? In this case, it shows a lack of empathy for the women and young girls whose space he is invading, and ignores the power imbalance that exists between Biden and the women he chooses to get cozy with.

For years I feared my experience would be dismissed. Biden will be Biden. Boys will be boys. I worried about the doubts, the threats, the insults, and the minimization. “It’s not that big of a deal. He touched her, so what?” The immediate passing of judgement and the questioning of motives. “Why now? Why so long after? She just wants attention.” Or: “It’s politically motivated.” I would be lying if I said I didn’t carefully consider all of this before deciding to speak. But hearing Biden’s potential candidacy for president discussed without much talk about his troubling past as it relates to women became too much to keep bottled up any longer.

When I spoke to a male friend who is also a political operative in Biden’s orbit — the first man who had heard the story outside of my staff and close friends years ago — he did what no one else had and made me question myself and wonder if I was doing the right thing. He reminded me that Biden has significant resources and argued points that made me question my memory, even though I’ve replayed that scene in my mind a thousand times. He reminded me that my credibility would be attacked and that I should be prepared for the type of “back and forth” that could occur. (When reached by New York Magazine, a representative for Vice-President Joe Biden declined to comment.)

I’m not suggesting that Biden broke any laws, but the transgressions that society deems minor (or doesn’t even see as transgressions) often feel considerable to the person on the receiving end. That imbalance of power and attention is the whole point — and the whole problem.

 Now all of you who follow me know that I am a firm believer of innocent until proven guilty. So I’m genuinely asking out of curiosity. How much evidence is there and how much more is needed? If I’m being perfectly honest Lucy Flores  for the most part isn’t telling us anything that we haven’t already known for years.

But I wonder if we’re just going to continue to ignore it because he’s not wearing a Maga hat. I’m sure the guardian or Huffington Post will make some excuse right?

[artificialqueens]

She's probably a lesbian (Branjie) - OnPointe

A/N- Here I am again, a songfic for you guys. As I promised, no angst. I forgot to mention last time that I am extremely grateful for one of my best friends for beta-ing everything I write. And always confirming 100 times that what I write is not crap. Anyway, this is based off the song “How to know if a girl is a lesbian” by Ally Hills. I hope you enjoy. 

Vanessa looked fierce, and she damn well knew it. You couldn’t convince her otherwise. Her hair was curled down her back, falling naturally over her shoulders, a slight bounce to her hair as she practically stomped down the hallway of the high school. She had a bright red lip on, matching the shirt that stayed partly hidden under a leather jacket that she wore proudly on her shoulders. A black skirt that was tight, teasing with the school dress code about length of skirts and shorts. 

She laughed loudly, throwing her head back in joy as she winked quickly at someone before marching over to join her friends by the lockers. This was definitely one of the perks of senior year, having most of the school population absolutely infatuated with what you did, how you spent your weekend and what you were wearing. Girls and boys flirted with her aimlessly all the time, during class, in the hall or in lunch. Vanessa felt it was mostly because of her status in the school, but she liked to tease and flirt back anyway. It filled up the time and made it more enjoyable. 

“Lookin’ good girl.” A'keria mentions with a small hum, scrolling though whatever issue of whatever fashion magazine she had at the moment. 

“Always, bitch.” Vanessa laughed, opening her locker and checking her face in the mirror that hung on the door. 

“There’s a new girl” Silky says, after shoving some sort of buttery pastry into her mouth, causing both of the other girls eyebrows to rise slightly in response. 

“Over there, by the lockers. Blondie.” Silky gestures with her head, hair flipping in the progress. She turns her attention back to phone in her hands, no doubt talking on Tinder or something like that. 

Vanessa looked up, glancing around for the girl in question. She sighed, thinking in the moment that the girl might have left, returning to gazing in the mirror. 

In the corner of her eye, she watches as a locker door closes shut with a slam. In the corner of her eye, she sees the blonde in question turning around and talking to somebody, about to walk somewhere. Vanessa looks over and watches the girl, taking in as much as she could. 

Vanessa noted that she did have blonde hair, almost platinum hair, that fell straight and ended right about the center of her back. A grey beanie sat on the top of her hair, keeping it all together. She was wearing a pink baseball tee, right in between tight and loose. Black yoga pants stretched down her long legs as she watched the blonde walk past her down the hall. 

The blonde flashed a quick smile towards the smaller girl before leaving the hall, following closely behind the student body president, Nina West. 

She needed to know who this girl was, and now.

You don’t wear a beanie in the summer for no reason

Or a baseball tee when it’s not baseball season

If you check her nails and they’re always trimmed

Or Kstew is her style twin

Vanessa learned alot about the mystery new girl in the course of the next week. Sure, she might not have actually talked to her yet, but she knows enough to know that she really wanted to talk too her. Once she gets over the fear that the blonde might be straight, she was sure that the conversation would be great. Fantastic, even. 

It turns out, that she had a name. Her name was Brooke Lynn. That was beautiful, she thought. It fit her. 

Brooke came down to LA, from Canada. For dance, there seemed to be a lot more opportunities for advancement here. She learned that as well. Vanessa would love to see her dance one day, unless that was weird, she didn’t really know. 

Vanessa never had any issues with talking, or flirting with girls she found attractive. Brooke acted differently from the other girls, she learned. She would just flash an award winning smile, and continue on her. She didn’t care about who she was, and didn’t try and talk to her. Vanessa just couldn’t figure this girl out. 

They had one class together, even though they sat on the complete opposite sides of the room. Vanessa didn’t want to admit that she was completely infatuated with the (tall, blonde bombshell wi)  new girl. 

It was science class, a class that Vanessa usually hated, because it just seemed so boring and she didn’t understand why she needed to know this information for a future career. She didn’t need to know how to dissect a frog for a future in fashion, at least she was 95% sure. Math also wasn’t her strong suit. 

Vanessa was paying more attention to Brooke then she was the experiment demonstration, not like she was going to do it anyway, she would just share answers with A'keria or google the answers. She watched as she carefully picked up the scalpel, her short, light pink, nails wrapped around the handle, guiding it down the frog. 

That was a sign, she thought. She could have been looking too deep into things, but it was still important to note in her mind. 

Vanessa didn’t stare, or at least she thought she wasn’t. It was just looks that would linger for a few seconds before she would look back at A'keria, who looked absolutely disgusted that she would have to cut this dead frog open, and possibly get her nice outfit all gunked up. She rolled her eyes, scribbling down her name on the paper. 

Brooke looked really nice today, Vanessa thought as she let her mind wander. She wasn’t going to admit that she knew the outfit inspiration from flipping though trashy tabloids that actually entertained her. She looked good regardless, though. 

She was broke out of her thoughts, feeling a cold slimy liquid squirt onto her face. She quickly looked back over back over at A'keria, her hands in the air like she knew that she was guilty of something. 

“Sorry, sis…” She said, hiding a light laugh that would seem in bad nature if she let slip. 

“You Hoe! Oh- My- God!” Vanessa screeched, immediately heading towards the bathroom, barely looking as Brooke flashed her a quick, sympathetic smile. 

She knows a little bit too much about The L Word

She rolls her sleeves up when she’s wearing pocket t-shirts

And when she compliments, You just feel confident

You know how she rolls but you’re still not sure

Vanessa had stayed in the bathroom for almost the rest of class, focusing on wiping down her entire face and reapplying her makeup. Although she wouldn’t feel like she was clean until she took a shower tonight, not when cold, sticky, frog juices squirt on you. Not only was it disgusting, but it definitely was plenty embarrassing, especially when the girl you happened to have the smallest crush on, was in the room. 

Vanessa rolled her eyes and reapplied her light layer of mascara, her mouth agape slightly, focusing in on the mirror and the movements of her hand. She closed up the mascara, dropping it on the counter and looking herself up and over in the mirror again. Damn, she looked great again. The power of makeup, she supposed. 

“That was disgusting, but it looks like you’re doing well.“ 

Vanessa looked towards the door as the voice entered the room, it was brooke, she opened her mouth lightly watching as the other, placed her bag on the counter after wiping it dry. She watched as she began to thoroughly washing her hands. Vanessa shook her head, shoving her makeup in her bag. 

"It was sick, nothing a little soap and makeup can’t fix though!” She grinned, looking over briefly before attempting to look like she was fixing her hair to distract her from wanting to watch the other fix her minimal amount of makeup. 

“It was like, number two on the list of most disgusting and disheartening things I’ve ever seen.” Brooke laughed, running her fingers through her hair, stealing quick glances at the other as she did. 

“What was number one then?” Vanessa asked, raising an eyebrow letting herself look back over at the taller girl for a few seconds before spraying on a little bit more hairspray. 

“The entirety of season 6 of the L-Word.” Brooke smirked lightly, shaking her head and looking over at Vanessa, like she knew that Vanessa knew exactly what she was talking about. 

She wasn’t wrong. Vanessa knew all too well, practically checking it off in her in-head checklist. 

“That shit was a disaster.” She nodded in agreement, laughing lightly and shaking her head. “I didn’t sign up for no weird-ass murder mystery shit." 

"It made no sense to even go that route, no one liked Jenny anyway.” Brooke smiled, a smile made a Vanessa take a mental picture, so she could always remember it. “I swear, if she made quoted her insipid short story about manatees one more time…" 

Vanessa raised her brows once more. So she was smart, she thought to herself. If you asked her, she wouldn’t be able be to tell you what that word meant, she wasn’t even sure if she would pronounce it. Just another reason to like the blonde.

"Well, I should head to my next class, but…” Brooke walked closer to Vanessa, laying her hand over the over the Latina’s smaller hand, looking up at her face. “Let’s talk again soon. See ya.” Brooke smiled widely, retracting her hand and leaving the bathroom after quickly swiping her bag off the counter.

Oh Oh maybe she’s just being nice

Oh or you can take my adviceIf she looks like she’d want a few cats

If her closet is full of snapbacks

You lock eyes that implies, that you’re in luck my friend

‘Cause she’s probably a lesbian

Vanessa wanted to go over to table in science, or maybe even approach her in the hallway, or if she was feeling really frisky, she would stand behind her in the lunch line. It wasn’t that easy, but it really should have been. Vanessa never had an issue with self-confidence or social anxiety. This was a whole new problem for her, and she honestly had no idea what to do about it. 

She had so many opportunities to go ahead and talk to her, during the last 3 days. By the time Vanessa had hyped herself up enough, and outweighed the pros and cons of possibly making a fool of herself, the opportunity had passed and the blonde beauty had walked away. 

She remembered the way she felt a tingle shoot up her spine as Brooke laid her hand on hers, the way that the world could have stopped around them and she probably wouldn’t have noticed anything. It was possible that she was just being dramatic, she often was. Her fantasies about romance and love were out of this world high, so it seemed likely that Vanessa could have been reading the moment wrong. 

Girls were often really touchy, right? They held hands, fixed each other’s hair, hugged and even cuddled. That was all just normal activities for straight girls. 

Vanessa stayed up at night, her mind reeling over just a light touch. It was pathetic, she thought. She shouldn’t be this held up, she has had other crushes after all. Brooke was something different, in a whole league of her own. 

It was 2 a.m. and once again, Vanessa laid in the bed staring up at the ceiling and trying to imagine different scenarios that could erupt from striking up a conversation with the blonde. She rolled over, grabbing her phone off the bedside table and proceeded to see if anyone was awake. 

V: A, you up?

A: Yeah girl, you know netflix and shit. 

V: oh yeah, of course

A: you wanna tell me what’s up?

V: there’s nothing up, I just couldn’t sleep

A: that’s an ass excuse and you know it, is it about Brooke?

Vanessa dropped her phone on her chest and sighed. She should have guessed that she would have known, she knows everything. Vanessa picked her phone back up, deciding that getting her advice might actually be beneficial

V: yeah, I hate how you know this shit 

A: you say that but I know you love it, bitch

A: anyway, just talk to her. She’s human and from what I’ve heard, she’s really nice. 

V: yeah and what happens when I make a fool of myself and she ends up straight and having a boyfriend?

A: girl, you really think she’s straight? Lmao!

V: well… yes. how would you even know otherwise. 

A: just look for the damn clues Vanessa, plus I’ve never seen her with any boys 

A: AND she rlly likes cats 

V: now that’s just ster- stereo- nvm. You know what I mean

A: Well, girl. Trust me, and talk to her. In class tomorrow, it’ll be worth it. 

V: I’ll keep that in mind, thanks A'keria

Vanessa dropped her phone again, letting out a deep sigh and rolling over in her bed, creating a plan for tomorrow.

Blue isn’t just her favorite color it’s the warmest

And her low cut tank top collection is enormous

If plaid and flannels are her go to thing

Sit back and listen to your gaydar ping

She walks around just like she owns the place

You mention pride and she can’t keep a straight face

Today was the big day. Vanessa was going to talk to her today, she had a whole plan and she was more or less ready. It was nerve racking though, if one thing went wrong it would ruin the plan and she would have to start all the back at point A again. She even had people involved to try and help her execute this, but it still had a big risk of going under. 

Vanessa got ready like she usually did every morning, yet this morning, she seemed to take some extra time to pay attention to some small details. Brooke deserved the extra time, Brooke deserves way more than that, but this was all that she could give at the moment. 

Vanessa was quick to form crushes, to love the beauty and the idea of being with somebody. This crush was different. She loved the way that she bowed her head while laugh, always moving her hand to cover her mouth. She loved the way she preferred colored pens over pencils, the way she added a loop to her ‘y’s. She was sure she would love every quirk that she was destined to learn. 

She skipped meeting with her friends in the morning, just so she couldn’t get distracted by the time she got to class. She got distracted pretty easily and didn’t want to risk the chance of missing her chance. 

She sat down in science class, quietly tapping her pencil on the side of the table running over the plan in her head. In theory, it was quite simple. When asked to choose partners, sit next to Brooke. A'keria will sit next to Nina. They will then proceed with whatever work they had to do. It seemed full proof! Or it should be. Possibly. 

She ignored any quips of conversation from anyone, and for the first time in she didn’t know how long, she actually listened to the teacher. Crazy, right?

As soon as the teacher finished muttering the words of partners and as soon the class began to buzz around, she made her move. Dodging other classmates, and she think she might have accidently pushed someone, but she wasn’t actually positive if she did. She had a goal in mind, and no one would get in her way. 

Vanessa nodded over at A'keria as they both slid into the correct seats, a confused Brooke and Nina beside them. A'keria gave her a look as to say 'Go get em tiger’ before turning and promptly starting her work with the class president, to leave both of the love interests to their own devices. 

“So… you come here often?" 

Vanessa closed her eyes, hoping to wake up from whatever nightmare where her first line to the girl she liked was "so you come here often”. Every inch of her being was stopping herself from slamming her head into the desk. 

“Well, for the last two weeks, yes. Every day.” Brooke let out a small laugh, along with a shake of her head.

“That was really stupid, I know.” Vanessa joined in on the laughing, deciding it was better to laugh at herself then the other way around. “I’m usually better than that.”

“I sure hope you’re better at science then.” Brooke cracked a smile, entitling her paper as soon as they were handed out.

Vanessa follows suit and does the same. 

Things got easier for the next 40 minutes. The conversation became natural, and flowed easily. They did more talking than they got work done, but they both didn’t seem too bothered with that. They talked about favorite movies, and favorite colors. They discussed hopes and dreams and things in that nature.

It seemed so easy to talk to the other now, and Vanessa just felt silly for having so much anxiety over talking her now that it was actually happening. 

“We didn’t get much done did we?” Brooke asked, looking down at her paper and up at the clock, seeing as class was almost finished. “You’ll just have to come over tonight, if you want too." 

"Oh, yeah. I guess I’ll have too then.” Vanessa smiled, pulling out her phone and handing it to the other to input her number. “Just text me." 

Brooke grabbed the phone, her smile seemingly got a bit wider as she looked at her background, it was Vanessa and her friends at the last pride event she attended. She put in her number, sliding her phone back over to her. "Nice photo." 

Vanessa didn’t even get to say anything back before she looked back up and the blonde was gone, seemingly vanishing into thin air. 

Sometimes the hottie-ness

Just makes it obvious

But it doesn’t happen every single case

They had made a plan to meet up at Brooke’s house at about 4:30 to finish their science work up, although they both knew that they weren’t getting together for the work. They had such a good time talking, and It felt like they had been long time friends and it just came so naturally. They just wanted to get to know each other better. 

Vanessa changed her clothing, not two, not three, but four times. It had to be perfect, but it had to also look casual and not like she was trying too hard. It had to look like she wasn’t contemplating her choices for an hour. 

She wasn’t as nervous as she was to talk to her yesterday, she was mostly just filled with excitement. A certain buzz filled her body, a buzz that gave her even more excitement then she was already was filled with. 

Vanessa stood in front of her mirror, deciding on what to do with her hair. She could just lightly curl it and let it lay across her back. She could just pin it up and keep it out of her face. So many choices, but she decided to just lightly curl her hair instead of pining it up. She decided it looked best like that, and well, she needed to do what she could. 

Brooke was so effortlessly beautiful, it seemed so simple for her. She could go without makeup, and it probably wouldn’t make much of impact, but Vanessa just wanted to look her best for her. 

At this point, she was pretty confident that Brooke did indeed swing that way, but she still needed to pick up on a few things before she was going to make a move, besides, what if she didn’t even like her, like that? Vanessa sighed quickly, shaking her head and grabbing her things, before heading out.

Oh Oh maybe she’s just being nice

Oh or you can take my advice

If she looks like she’d want a few cats

If her closet is full of snapbacks

You lock eyes that implies

That you’re in luck my friend

'Cause she’s probably a lesbian

Vanessa was a loud person, and she didn’t like the quiet. She slept with the TV on, and she always had music playing whenever she went or did anything. The quiet was awkward, and well, the silence was deafening. It held all the tension in the room, and it could take a knife to cut though. The quiet offered time to think, and Vanessa didn’t like that. So she preferred noise. 

Well, most of the time. 

Today, the car ride was quiet. No music on to sing too, no stupid radio podcast making corny jokes over the broadcast. It was just quiet. Right now, for once, Vanessa appreciated the quietness. She appreciated the time to think, the time to run everything in her head before she would end standing up, and knocking on the door. 

Which, she was just about to do. The ride was a lot shorter then she first thought it would. She was early, only by 10 minutes, but she was still early. Vanessa usually showed up late, but she tried so hard, to make sure that she left early enough not to be late. Would it be weird, if she knocked right now? What if she was busy, and she just interrupted that because she decided that she was early. Vanessa took 2 minutes to fix her light makeup, another 3 minutes to make sure that she had her science books. Another minute to take a swig of water, and yet another minute to apply another layer of lipstick after the previous coat got smudged on the bottle. 

It was time. 

Maybe it was flowers that dotted the pathway to the door, or maybe it was the birds that sang in the trees, or maybe it was just the way the curtains of the second story windows blew along with the breeze that made her loosen her grip on her bag as she headed towards the door. The house looks homey, it looked like the family had been at home here for years, when it had only been a few weeks. It was a refreshing sight and somehow made her heart beat slightly less quickly. 

Vanessa took one final deep breath, as she poised her hand at the door and knocked once, loudly, but just loudly enough to know that someone would hear. She heard shuffling and the sound of shoes clapping against wood, along with a voice that she would recognize anywhere. 

"It’s for me!” Brooke opened the door, a light smile on her face, as she pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Thanks for coming." 

Vanessa took a few seconds to look over Brooke’s outfit change before doing anything else. She looked amazing, as always. But the look of comfort and ease looked even better than the look that consisted of hours in front of a mirror.  She looked at home and easy, like she didn’t have to try for anyone else. She felt like she got to see a special side, the side that let down a wall, the side where it was truly herself, not hidden behind any layers of makeup and nice clothing. 

"Yeah, of course. We had to get this shit done, huh?” Vanessa laughed, stepping into the nice home once she got the hand gesture that allowed her in. “You have a very nice house, by the way.”

“Thanks, let’s get upstairs before we get bombarded with 50 questions from my mom..” Brooke laughed lightly, leading the other upstairs before they could start the game of 20 questions that happened any time Brooke had anyone over. 

Pictures lined the walls and she glanced at them, as she was basically being pulled up the stairs, Brooke’s hand firmly placed in hers. It was warm and safe, and Vanessa felt everything that you would imagine one would feel in this moment, but she didn’t have much time to think about it. Brooke pushed open a white door, leading her into her room. 

If she does all these things but she’s not out of the closet

Then we don’t know for sure

But I’m sure gonna call it

Win some or lose some you roll the dice

When you’re taking my advice, but

Her room was decorated in hues of whites and pinks. Instead of band pictures hanging on the wall with sloppy uneven pieces of tape; pictures of dancers lined the walls with double sided tape on the inside of the corners, making it look like the pictures were merely floating against the wall; not pinned to the walls. 

Her room was clean, not the type of the clean that you achieve within 20 minutes before your guest of honor arrives, but the type of clean that you spend every day tending too, the type of clean where every single item has it own home, a place where it belongs. 

Two cats laid perched on her bed like it was a throne, and they were the mighty kings of the castle. Vanessa watched as Brooke sat on her bed, tucking her feet under her as she sat, the cats moving to sit closer to her. 

“This is why you asked me if I was allergic? I should have guessed it, it’s not exactly a conversation starter, otherwise.” Vanessa out a small laugh, that was trying to hide and shove back all of her fears. 

“This is Henry, and” Brooke smiles, gesturing to the cat on her lap. “This one is apollo.” She leans over to pet the one on the edge of the bed. “They aren’t exactly people type of cats, so I’m sorry if they don’t like you.”

Vanessa took that opportunity to sit down on the edge of the bed, immediately being greeted by apollo, who rubbed his body against the side of her body happily. 

Vanessa raised her eyebrows, looking over at Brooke momentarily, before looking back at the cat. 

“You Liar! I must be a cat magnet, don’t doubt the powers of a cat magnet." 

She laughed, started to feel more at ease they laughed and joked effortlessly, forgetting about the work that they came here to do originally.

"I’m going to grab some water for us, then we should probably finish the homework.” Brooke mentions after about 20 minutes of joking around. 

Vanessa watches as she climbs out of the bed, making her way out of the room, leaving her alone on the bed, with the cats. 

Vanessa sighed herself, boosting herself on her elbows as she glanced around the room once more. She took note of all the photos on the dresser, none of them with anyone her own age- besides her dance group photos. She did look absolutely adorable in a Tutu at the tender age of 6 though, holding a trophy that already half her size. 

She closed her eyes momentarily, running over everything she had noted in the last few days, or as A'keria would say, gathering the clues.

There was just no way she could tell for sure, she wasn’t out of the closet and it wasn’t like she would ask her- she could never muster enough courage to be that direct. It was getting harder to be so friendly when all she wanted to do was (kiss her deeply and pul-)  be with her. 

If she looks like she’d want a few cats

If her closet is full of snapbacks

You lock eyes that implies

That you’re in luck my friend

'Cause she’s probably a lesbian

Vanessa sat up, setting her homework on her lap as Brooke came back into the room, handing her a water for she crawled into the bed, setting up her own homework as well. 

Vanessa cracked open the bottle, taking a much needed sip, as she felt her mouth started to dry up, probably because of all the nerves. She read over the paper again, trying to remember what they were doing, as she honestly didn’t even remember. 

They didn’t talk much, only sharing ideas on what the answers could be. This was one of the quiets that Vanessa couldn’t stand, but she would do it if it meant that she could admire the way that the blonde chewed on the edge of her pen when she was struggling with an answer, or when her eyes would light up when she finally figured out a tough answer. 

Maybe in the future, they should stick with their usual partners. Not that they were both bad at science, but because whenever they would look up at each other, sharing small smiles and laughs and that often ends up with one of the throw pillows being thrown, it was actually pretty distracting. 

The small smiles were more endearing than any other smile, and the laugh was sweet but it filled the entire room with the sound that Vanessa could really get used to hearing on the daily.

They finished after an hour filled with stealing glances, thrown pillows and the occasional meow, if a pillow happened to hit Henry. 

“You can stay if you want- I mean if you don’t have any other plans or anything." 

Brooke piped up quickly, watching as Vanessa was starting to pack up her work in her bag. This was the first time Vanessa had seen an air of nervousness from the other one, but if anything, it only strengthened how much she liked her. 

"I would love too" 

If her purse is also a backpack

She’s always watching Orange Is The New Black

You lock lips i insist

That you’re in luck my friend

'Cause she’s probably a lesbian 

They decided to watch Netflix, after they had managed to get some food, and only get approximately 9 questions from her mother. Brooke was mortified, a bright red color present on her cheeks the entire time. Vanessa thought it was sweet that she cared so much, and she thought it was adorable how embarrassed Brooke got. 

They got back on her bed, this time sitting next to each other, rather than across like earlier. Brooke had pulled out her laptop, efficiently signing on as she looked over at Vanessa, to see what she would want to watch.

Vanessa shrugged, a content smile on her face as she looked at the home screen. "Whatever you want, I’m not really picky boo." 

She wasn’t sure why she added the name at the end, but it did bring some color to her cheeks. Brooke didn’t seem to mind the name, either that or she didn’t notice. She put on an episode of Orange is the New Black and settled against her headboard, Vanessa following suit. 

As the episode played, they began to gently shift towards one another, small enough at first so it was barely noticeable. Eventually, they made it so Vanessa could lay her head on her shoulder and brooke could easily wrap an arm around her. Vanessa wondered if she could hear how fast her heart was beating, if it would just jump out of her chest right now. 

Vanessa wasn’t even thinking as they glanced at each other, then the next thing they both knew, her lips were softly pressed against Brooke’s. She closed her eyes, leaning into the kiss, waiting for a sign. When she felt the other kiss back, all fear and worry melted. She felt at peace as they continued the soft kiss, until they broke apart for air. 

"Finally.” Brooke hummed once they broke apart, before going into another kiss that lead to small kisses and giggles all night long. 

Yeah, she’s probably a lesbian. 

[filmfanatic82]

AO3 Link (HERE)

Prologue 

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

It’s the beat.

Kim notices it before anything else. It pulsates throughout the night club, like a strong and steady heartbeat, overtaking her senses as soon as she walks in through the doors. 

The beginnings of a smile slide across Kim’s lips. She closes her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to get entirely lost within its soothing siren song. 

It’s always been about the beat. 

Ever since that very first time, Kim snuck into a club during the summer between her freshman and sophomore year of high school. It was the beat that hooked her. Like a mythical elixir, it somehow managed to instantaneously drown out all of her underlying fears and self-doubts and for once allowing her to just simply exist in the moment. 

And Kim found she couldn’t get enough of it.

So she returned. Again and again. Until one day, one of the usual DJs asked if she wanted to have a go. 

At first, Kim had balked at the offer. She had never even touched vinyl before, let alone knew how to work a table.  

But with some convincing and persistence, Kim found the nerve and finally gave it a go. And the rest was history. She had been spinning ever since. At least one night a week-- if not more-- for well over a decade now. 

Most people in Kim’s life had no clue that she moonlighted as a DJ, and frankly, she preferred to keep it that way. Not that it was a secret or anything. Just that DJing was in some ways her own personal sanctuary. The one place she could always retreat to no matter just how fucked up her life seemed to get.

Back to the beat. 

“Kimmie!” Zack exclaims. Kim opens back up her eyes just in time to spot a lengthy Asian boy with unruly black hair, and an infectious grin emerges from the crowd of people. He scoops Kim up into an all-encompassing hug, unable to contain his excitement. “Thought you had to bail on tonight.”

“Last minute change of plans,” Kim replies, returning the hug to the boy who has slowly become a regular in her life over the last few months. “Still got the room for me?”

“Always for my favorite DJ. Tigre should be finishing up in the next five, and then it’s all yours.”

“Tigre?” Kim questions, unfamiliar with the name.

“Yeah. She’s the one on the table now… Pretty good, right?”

“Not bad.” Kim nods as her eyes wander over towards the DJ booth in an attempt to get a glimpse of the mysterious girl in question. But no sure luck. She can’t see anything beyond the human wall of club-goers. “Where does she normally play?”

“She doesn’t,” Zack says with a bit of a smirk.

“What? You’re shitting me.”

“Swear to God. She’s just in town for a few and swung by to say hi. She saw the table and asked if she could dick around on it.”

“Impressive,” Kim responds, eyes still fixated on the DJ booth on the far side of the club. “And her name is Tigre?”

“Eh, it’s what she likes to go by when she’s hanging out here, but yeah… You should pop into the booth and introduce yourself. She mentioned she wanted to meet you.”

“Me?” Kim asks.

“Yeah. I might’ve talked you up a little bit.” 

“Zack…” Kim shakes her head in mild disbelief.

“It just came up. She asked who drew the biggest crowds and how could I not mention you... We’ve had a packed place ever since you took over Thursday nights. You’re freakin’ amazing, Kimmie.” 

“When are you going to stop calling me that?” Kim runs her hands through her wavy, raven locks and then rests them on her custom set of matted pink headphones that are hanging around her neck.

“Probably never,” Zack responds. “Oh, and also she’s a big-time taco lover.” 

“A what?”

“You know… She doesn’t drive stick.” Zack follows up, punctuating his point with a wiggle of his brows. “She is a muff--”

“I get it. Thanks,” Kim cuts him off. 

“Cool. Just don’t tell her I told you. She’d rip my balls out barehanded if she ever found out.” 

“I won’t say a word. Promise. You and your boys are 100% safe.” Kim replies, giving Zack an extra reassuring wink. 

“Thanks… I’ve gotta go check on that new barback but catch you in the booth in a few?”

Kim nods and then watches as Zack once again up and disappears into the sea of people.

She had first stumbled across this place about a little over a year ago. It was right around the time when the shit hit the fan down at the precinct, leaving Kim indefinitely suspended from her job as an Angel Grove detective and with nothing but an overabundance of time on her hands. She hadn’t planned on making it a regular gig. Just was looking for somewhere to go and play every now and again when the urge struck. But then one thing led to another and somehow the club owner Zack had convinced Kim late one night over endless rounds of whiskeys to make it a weekly set. And she found that she couldn’t say no. Especially not to someone like Zack.

The music transitions from Missy Elliot’s Get Your Freak On to a remix of Jlo’s Jenny from the Block and instantly Kim is intrigued. The tracks by themselves are nothing out of the ordinary. Both must-haves in any decent DJ’s collection. 

But there’s another beat. 

One that’s buried amongst the rest of the music. Just waiting for someone to discover it. It’s a familiar beat, and yet Kim can’t quite put her finger on it. The more she listens, the more she itches to know who’s responsible for it.

Kim flows through the crowd, cutting a path with the bare minimum of effort, eyes never once straying away from the DJ booth. She inches closer and closer and yet still no sign of the mysterious Tigre. There’s only the music-- and the music alone-- to lead the way.

It isn’t until Kim reaches the base of the booth, though, does she get her first glimpse of who’s behind the overwhelmingly addictive beat. She spots a sleeveless yellow flannel shirt accompanied by a pair of glistening toned arms, and instantaneously her mouth goes dry. Kim’s no stranger to being in the presence of a beautiful woman or two. It naturally comes with the territory. But the woman standing before her is so much more than the run-of-the-mill beautiful. No. She’s like no other woman Kim’s ever laid eyes on before. 

Petite yet powerful, Tigre has an endless array of soft, supple curves that are still more than noticeable even though semi-buried beneath her attire of an oversized flannel and baggy jeans. And not to be outdone by her sleek jet-black bob that perfectly swaying back and forth to the beat, accentuating her razor-sharp jawline. 

Kim melts into nothing more than a hot bi mess of human as she’s unable to do anything more than gape at the goddess of a DJ before her. 

“You gonna stare all night, Princessa?” 

Kim snaps out of her trance to find a pair of rich chocolate brown eyes slowly sizing her up. She re-adjusts the sleeves on her worn-out leather jacket and runs her hands through her hair. “Maybe…”

Tigre hums a response, half-returning to the table. She makes another seamless transition all the while never fully taking her attention off on Kim. 

And Kim can’t help but continue to watch. There’s an exotic quality to how Tigre flows between the gear and vinyl. It’s beyond hypnotic with the sway of her hips perfectly keeping time with the beat. “Or maybe I just wanted to see who was manhandling my collection.” 

“Ah…,” Tigre says as a slight look of recognition spreads across her face. She slips off her headphones and inches closer to Kim. “You must be the elusive Kimmie.” 

“Kim.” Kim extends a hand, and after a slight hesitation, Tigre takes it into her own. A definitive spark instantaneously jolts through Kim’s body. She sharply inhales and for the briefest of moments swears she sees a flicker of pure shock within Tigre’s eyes as well. 

There’s no denying it. She felt it too.     

Kim lets go of Tigre’s hand. “Tigre, right?” 

“Yeah. Something like that,” Tigre responds with a hint of a smirk. A silence creeps in between the two of them as the music fills the void. Kim tries her best but can’t quite seem to read Tigre. There’s something there… Something buried just beneath the tough facade. And Kim can’t help but want to know more. 

“Zack mentioned you were just passing by… What brings you to Angel Grove? Work? Pleasure?”

“Work mostly. But I’ve never been one to turn down a bit pleasure every now and then…,” Tigre says as her eyes slowly make their way down Kim’s body. “Especially with the right type of person.” 

“And what type of person would that be?” Kim matches Tigre’s smirk allowing her eyes to wander as well. 

Tigre moves even closer towards Kim, invading every last inch of personal space. It’s a dance. One that they both know how to play very well and yet…  

Kim swallows thickly in bated anticipation, silently praying for the smaller Latina to make the first move.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Princessa.”

“I’m not a princess,” Kim exhales in nothing more than a whisper.

“You sure about that?” 

And time seems to stand still as they stand there face to face, eyes locked upon each other, silently waiting to see who will cave first. In any other situation, Kim wouldn’t even have to think twice. She’s never been one to hesitate before. But yet something is holding her back. Something buried deep within Tigre’s eyes that all but screams that making a move now would lead to nothing but instant regret.   

The track suddenly fades out, and they are both snapped back into reality.

“You mind?” Kim motions towards the table.

“Be my guest,” Tigre says, stepping out of Kim’s way.

Kim takes off her jacket and starts to get set up, all the while feeling Tigre’s eyes still upon her. She takes a moment or two to collect herself, adjusting and re-adjusting her headphones, desperate to shake off her nerves.

“I don’t normally allow anyone up here during my sets, but you’re more than welcome to stick around if you--” Kim trails off. She turns around and suddenly discovers that-- 

Tigre is gone.

Kim quickly scans the crowd, hoping to get a brief glimpse of the mysterious, flannel-clad woman but no such luck. There’s not a single trace or sign of her existence whatsoever. Almost as if she was never even there to begin with.

“Fuck,” Kim lets out a slightly frustrated sigh and then with one more adjustment of her headphones, she selects a vinyl from the pile and gets to work. 

[latina4bangtan]

Let’s Make a Deal

Pt. 3

“I do”

Summary: (Y/N) has been told about the deal that her father has made but will she accept it after finding out the conditions….or even better who she will be making a deal with?

Warnings: Violence, Gang referenceS, Adult Language, eventual (m) rated chapters and I’ll add as I go if necessary

Genres: Angst, eventual smut & fluff

Word count: 1405

Namjoon x latina

Namjoon x reader

You stood there frozen not knowing the woman who stared back at you in the mirror. She stood in a beautiful white teacup gown with her hair messily pulled up. Who would have thought that that woman in the mirror was you....only minutes prior to walking into a courtroom to becoming a strangers wife.

It dawned on you at that moment  that as soon as you stepped into that court room you were no longer going to be (y/n)...just your average girl from LA who just tried her best to get by. Once you walked into that room that girl was going to be gone and as soon as you walk out you would be the wife to one of Korea’s most notorious gangsters. Kim Namjoon.

How did it get to this point? You still couldn’t wrap your mind around it.

It wasn’t until your mother came into the room that you were pulled out of the thoughts that had been consuming you for the past week.

“You look beautiful” she said to you with tears in her eyes.

“I wish it could have been different for you.....that you didn’t have to do this for us but....I just want you to know that I’m forever grateful to have you as a daughter.....You’ve always been so strong for everyone and idk what I’ve done to deserve you. Just do one more thing for me...Never doubt that I love you so much.” With her last few words you could tell how she was trying her best to to keep herself from becoming a weeping mess.

Slowly you walked up to her and wrapped your arms around her waist engulfing her in a hug.

“I love you. No matter what happens we’re all going to be ok....I have to believe in that so don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing.”

Did you though? Did you really know what world you were about to step into?

The answer was simple. No, but you knew what the answer was if you chose to do nothing.  

You stood there just holding each other until you heard the knock at the door.

“It’s time.” Was all your father said as he stood at the door. He hadn’t said much to you since everything began...being too ashamed of himself to face you.

You walked up to him and locked arms as he lead you to the courtroom.

When you entered he turned to you with glistening eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Was all he said.

Squeezing his arm in reassurance you said with a small genuine smile “I know you are. I’ll be ok.”

With that you walked up to the altar to meet your soon to be husband.

He was dressed in a tux and if you were going to be honest wasn’t looking too bad. Extending his hand out to yours he said “You look really nice”.

Taking his hand all you said was “Thank you”

Both of you turned to face the judge who was to marry you. Aside from your parents there were a couple of his men who were also present for the wedding.

It didn’t take long for the judge to ask the questions you were dreading.

“Do you Kim Namjoon take (y/n) to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

“And do you (y/n)(y/l/n) take Kim Namjoon  to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Before you said anything you turned and had a glance at your parents. Looking at them was all you needed to know what to do.

You turned to look straight at Namjoon......”I do.”

“By the power invested in me I know pronounce you husband and wife....You May kiss the bride.”

It all happened so fast that you hadn’t realized that Namjoon had moved towards you and before you could react his lips were on yours.

It was simple and quick but for some reason you couldn’t explain why it slightly made your stomach jump.

—————————————————

You were in the lobby of the courthouse standing with your mother not knowing where your new “husband” was at. It seemed that as soon as everything was said and done he had to handle some type of business.

While standing there you wondered if this was how your life was going to be from now on. Granted you weren’t given the pleasure of dwelling on those thoughts for too long as you Namjoon walking towards you.....along with your dad.

“Are you ready?”

“For what exactly?”

“We’re leaving.”

“Can I ask where we’re going?”

“Home”

“Oh...erm...sure...Mom I’ll try and see you later ok?” You turned to say to your mother.

“When I said we’re going home I meant we’re leaving to Korea. The her is already waiting for us. You’re parents are going to be transported to their new home as well. We part ways from here.”

“What!?! Why!?! So soon?”

“It’s for the best. I’ll give you five minutes to say your goodbyes and then I expect you to meet me in the car.”

“Five Minutes!”

He didn’t bother to respond all he did was head out the door and head to the black car that was to take you to the airport.

Turning to your parents you felt your heart begin to break. You knew you made your decision but it didn’t make it any easier.

“Why do we have to part ways so soon?” You asked both parents.  

“Your husband believes it’s for the best and it’s the safest thing to do. No one knows that you two got married yet. This way we’re put into a safe place before anyone can try to interfere. That also includes with you.”

“I don’t even know when I’ll be able to see you guys again. Or talk to you or even my sisters” tears were now starting to form in your eyes. You didn’t want to leave your home or more so your family.

“Miss your times about to be up.” One of Namjoon’s men stated.

You grabbed your parents and hugged them and let your tears fall.  You never thought it was going to be this hard to say goodbye. Nothing prepared you for this.

“It’s time.” Your dad said for the second time today.

Releasing them you gave one last I love you as you turned to walk to the car where your husband was waiting for you.

Sliding in you closed the door and didn’t bother to even look at him. He also did not try to talk with you on the way to the airport.

When you both arrived to the airport where the  jet was located you were a little taken back but you didn’t give it much thought as you were still hurting from the good bye with your parents.  You got out of the car with Namjoon as you waited for the ok from the captain to board the plane.

“One of my workers picked up your bags that I asked you to pack from your parent’s house.”

“Ok”

At this point you were numb to the situation. This was to be your life but it didn’t make you any happier. If anything it made you feel lonelier than ever.

“It was for the best.”

“Maybe for you”

“This is what you agreed to (y/n)”  Namjoon said sounding a little more than annoyed.

“I KNOW! DAMMIT I DON'T NEED A CONSTANT REMINDER....I know what I agreed to ok! That still doesn’t make it any easier.” Tears were now slowly falling.

All day you tried to be strong but you didn’t have anyone here to be strong for anymore so you let it out.

Namjoon on the other hand was surprised to say the least at your outburst. No one had spoken to him like that in a long time. Being a little irritated he walked up to you  and grabbed  your shoulders to make you face him.

“I get that this isn’t your ideal situation but don’t forget just who your husband is.” He said with an edge to his voice that made you slightly worry. Though that didn’t stop your next words from leaving your mouth.

“Believe me I would do anything to forget the type of man I just married.”

With that you turned to walk towards the jet that was to take you to your new home.