#threads. ingrid

[bvrninghill]

EXT. HAPPY TAILS DOG PARK — AFTERNOON

Someone’s abandoned their park chess game. There’s no telling how long it’s been here, only that Black is winning and the pawn is on the seventh rank and nearly ready to be promoted.

Across from her, a collarless border collie, slobbering and smiling, sits upright on the stone chess chair like every bit of the monarch he is.

“Now, I’ve heard of dogs playing poker, but—” From her seat, Ingrid hums. She picks up the rook, spinning it between her thumb and forefinger, and wonders idly whether it’s been pinched between someone’s fingers during a nail-biting checkmate with several other canines as witnesses. Unlikely, the way it’s still so polished; damn shame that park chess has fallen out of season, the fad having lost its momentum once The Queen’s Gambit slipped out of the Netflix Top-Ten list. She nudges the white rook aside (pawn in perpetual check! The Black positively writhing in zugzwang!) and smiles to herself; she’s gotten the better of her opponent. “—now, this is something else.”

The white king now has his little tower protecting him. Three moves left for a stalemate, tops. She’s pleased despite the absurdity of the challenge, or a lack thereof. She bounces her knee under the table, inadvertently knocking her leg against the stone base, to which she reacts with a small Ow.

Ingrid half expects one of his paws to curl around the black pawn. Instead, the dog pauses and considers his next move. And, really, it’s impossible not to feel sorry for the little guy who’s getting beaten at his own game. Likely, Ingrid will shepherd the border collie to the animal shelter in yet another role reversal—but for now, she’s got a chess match to win.

“Cass, I think I got him,” Ingrid swivels abruptly to the side, where Cassidy has settled, “but it’s looking like he’s a bit of a genius.”

She gestures towards the dog. In response, the dog yawns.

( @painfccls )

[agentamulius]

with: @akanisxingrid when: during the funeral for eterna's fallen where: the palace notes: I got a bit carried away, you don't have to match :,)

Gulizar hated funerals. Maybe it was because she'd spent her last one trying to pretend she wasn't the very reason her mother laid in a casket. Maybe it was because she was surrounded by crying and heartfelt sentiments, both of which made her uncomfortable. Or maybe it was because she'd brought flowers, and it didn't feel like enough.

Eterna had lost so many - she'd been there as the city was sieged by Valerius and his wild magic, had tried her best to minimize damage to the Tower and those within. That didn't feel like enough, either. Meanwhile, underneath her, Queensguard and Olympians alike were fighting a cult, many of them giving their lives in the process. Of course she'd already questioned the Students of Prosperina who'd restored Ingrid's soul - pressed them to explain why Akanis was gone for good. They said a soul could only return if it was willing.

She'd only known Akanis briefly, but he didn't seem despondent by any means. Ingrid was perhaps a better person to ask if she wanted the gritty truth, but there was a time and a place for that. Gulizar had subtly followed Ingrid through the halls of the palace to a quiet room, away from the people and commotion, for another reason. The woman she once cared for - and perhaps still did - understandably needed a moment to herself during such a grim occasion.

Gulizar leaned against the wall, still watching Ingrid, who'd yet to notice her presence. From her side profile, the scar on her cheek was ever noticeable, drawing the agent of Minerva's eyes. Guli didn't even know what she planned to say, or what drew her to follow the other in the first place. All she knew was that she could sense Ingrid's pain, and that was impossible to ignore.

"I heard about what you did." she finally spoke, arms crossed as she prepared to defend herself for following the other. Ingrid had gone and gotten herself disintegrated while playing hero. It was stupid, stubborn, and reckless. Selfless, yet equally selfish. Clearly Ingrid hadn't thought about how those close to her would feel in the wake of such a decision. "Leave it to you to be stubborn, even when staring down an exploding, magical crystal."

[lambsgod]

continued from here

before he could respond properly, river paused to let out a drawn out groan of frustration, resisting the urge to yank on his own hair and instead clenching his teeth to release some of the tension. "this is exactly what i'm talking about! stubborn!" maybe he didn't know all that much about her personally, but he didn't think it was too far of a stretch to assume their relationship had been a net positive on both of their lives. why else would she had kept it up this long if it wasn't? he didn't even know what to say without incriminating himself further, feeling as though he'd been backed into a corner and forced to admit what he himself wasn't even ready to come to terms with, so he merely watched her dress herself with a slight frown on his face, hating how even such a simple act became so enticing when done by her. the comment he'd blurted out before he was even able to think it through came back to bite him as she responded with obvious surprise, though he couldn't tell if that was a tinge of hopefulness he detected in her tone, or if he was just deluding himself. "i mean... yeah, sure. she's great, but she's... i can't see myself falling in love with her. it's just convenient, y'know..." convenient, but not necessary. if they broke up today, he might miss her, but the thought didn't fill him with nearly as much dread as the thought of losing ingrid. "i'm just saying, if she's the problem— if she's the reason you wanna end it... i dunno. it's not, like, serious, is what i'm saying.

[lcvewaslcst]

if he wasn't with ingrid, he was out. carter wasn't really much for being alone. his thoughts would get overwhelmingly loud and determined to drill unworthiness into a dark, dark headspace. and - since he hadn't touched his vice in a year - he needed to rid himself of that. so, the invite to a celebration for his win was sent, and carter was off. a club with sectioned off VIP spots - of which his group had somehow managed to weasel their way into. when he excused himself for a drink, what he hadn't expected - was to be followed. the brunette leaned into him with ease, and while carter had been predominantly spoken for, he wasn't foolish enough to think that the reason the person he wanted to be with wasn't actually out celebrating his win with him - was because she was at home. with her lame, boring boyfriend - or at least, that's how carter had convinced himself the other male was like. reaching up, he dropped his arm around the unfamiliar girl's shoulders and tugged her in close. one drink. two. three drinks in, the flirting came easy and his lips were hanging dangerously close to her when something in the room seems to shift. his brows furrow and his heart flips in place - warning him. // @persephonyed

[someotherdog]

@persephonyed / plotted starter for eoin & ingrid!

eoin hated being set up on dates. his friends had always been concerned over his bachelorhood, something that didn’t bother him much since he was a chronic workaholic. he really didn’t have a lot of time for dating, and hey, it wasn’t as if he was lonely. he didn’t have time to be lonely either. sometimes, he found a nice girl at the gym or at a bar; occasionally, he would download tinder and then end up deleting it after a week or so. though he was almost forty, eoin still believed he had time to find the one. however, his coworker-turned-friend insisted that he knew the perfect woman for eoin, a friend of his girlfriend. she was a doctor. she was incredibly intelligent. (she was age-appropriate.) after a couple days of cajoling, he finally relented. his friend set everything up for the date, all eoin had to do was show up. on that friday night, he had arrived to the restaurant early. he had been on many dates before but they have always made him nervous, especially blind dates. eoin tried to occupy himself with responding to emails and playing a couple rounds of candy crush on his phone when he finally felt someone heading towards him. putting his phone down, eoin was struck by the woman’s bright blonde hair and big blue eyes. he hoped she was his date. eoin rose from his seat, smoothing down his jacket, “you must be ingrid?”

[reggiefalvey]

closed for: @ingridlczano

where: below zero

"I'm heavily regretting going for mint," Reggie bemoans, he had been stone cold certain in the queue that mint chocolate chip was the way to go, but now he was sat across from Ingrid and eyeing hers he can't help but feel a little hard done by due to his own choices.

"I feel like you want to share yours with me."

[heartjewelofthesea]

Practice Makes Perfection

Starter for @knightofgalatea

Swing. Stab. Thrust. Pull Back. Swipe behind. Stab. Swing.

There was a rhythm to her training, a steady unpredictable pattern that she had worked on for years before choosing to join the academy. A unique style that she sought ever to refine and practice. It worked better for her while on pegasus back, but it was good to practice with two feet on the ground as well.

It was the uniform she couldn't get used to however. Where she usually wore armour, plate and mail, she was wearing cloth, skirts, well made jackets. But it was simply a new challenge for her. If she couldn't fight in whatever she was wearing then she just needed to get better. After all, if she was caught unawares, she would not be able to change to her armour.

Stab. Pull back. Stab behind. Spin on heel. Thrust-swing.

Pause.

Straightening, Cordelia inhaled and exhaled. Rolling her wrists, she looked around and smiled when she saw someone else, a fellow student it seemed, entering the training grounds. Holding her training lance loosely at her side, Cordelia walked over and gave a small wave.

"Hello," she greeted. "I'm Cordelia. I'm a new student here."

[itsallmadonnasfault]

[saintshoods]

for @unraptures. continued from here.

“  what  ?  you're  gettin'  worried  over  some  bored  teens  or  twenty-somethin's  who  are  tired  of  living  in  bumfuck  nowhere  and  finally  decided  to  get  up  ‘n  go  ?  ”  the  dismissal  weighed  heavy  in  his  tone,  though  even  lennon  couldn’t  deny  the  worry  that  creeps  in  every  time  another  poster  overtakes  his  television  screen.  “  let's  say  they  are  missing  —  the  hell  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?  ”

[insidiousxhopes]

closed starter for ingrid mikaelson - @rumblcs

Aaron had seen Elijah, spent time with Charlie while he was locked in the gardens and had gone in search of his mother and hope since he returned to new orleans. He was anxious to see his littler sister and catch up on how her life had been since they had last had contact, but it seemed he kept missing her - along with looking for something to help elijah after his last interaction with him. He had been out for his morning run and reached the front door, taming a swig of his water bottle before opening the wood and walking into the building.

He looked around for a moment before heading up to his room and entered the ensuite to have a shower. It was only as the water hit his skin that he heard another in the house. His vampire hearing told him it was his sister and that made Aaron feel a sense of relief. Finishing up with the shower, he moved back into his room and got dressed before heading out of the room and back downstairs.

As he entered the room which was occupied by Ingrid, he smiled to himself before moving behind her and resting his head on her should softly. "Hey Hey Grid... I've been home four days and only now seeing you... I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.." he pouted playfully.

[persephonyed]

ingrid & jack for @tenderstars — cont. from here !

nudging him, ingrid couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “i’m not good at everything. just most things.” it was playful banter, something she’d only experienced in handfuls with him, and it brought light into ingrid’s life. he made her feel like living again — maybe that was why she easily threw caution to the wind and left everything behind for him. “i could try to resist your charm, but why work so hard when i know i’ll give in eventually?” looking around, ingrid felt an excited flutter rise in her stomach. “can i know now what we are getting up to?”

[bvrninghill]

INT. RINKSIDE — AFTERNOON

Iggy sneaks midway through the hockey game as unobtrusively as she can muster, though, with her stature, only translates into her tall frame brushing against people’s knees and obscuring their views of the rink. As she weaves past the occupied seats and to the vacant one next to Nicola’s, she catches the sharp glares of the mothers whose eyes were glued to the game—while the rest craned their heads either left or right, depending on which side of Ingrid casts a better vantage point of the puck. She offers some conciliatory smiles in return, widening it to a beautiful blonde some two aisles over, but it’s returned only with a glare. 

A sigh. Flirtation foiled, then, not that she’s seeking. Actively, at least. Half-dejected, half-relieved, Iggy settles further into the seat and adjusts her stance so that her too-long legs are stretched out fully. Predictably, it does not work, and her legs are sequestered in a position that reminds her far too much of economy airplane aisles. 

As far as she can tell—at least, what the scoreboard suggests—their hockey team is winning. Certainly not due to the efforts of Arthur, Iggy’s pseudo-stepson, who’s spotted her figure and is no longer paying attention to the game. Instead, he gives Iggy a silent wave, which she returns promptly, but not without an opponent taking note of his distraction and swiping a puck past him. One of his teammates, fortunately, intercepts the puck before it’s carried over by the opponent team, but the gaffe is noticeable enough that Arthur’s mother twists her head and gives her a glare so snowy that it could rival the hockey rink’s ice or the harshest Midwestern winters. 

A part of Iggy wants to remove that glare off her face, but—been there, done that. 

“Did you see that?” she says to Nicola, voice laced with incredulity as she jerks her left thumb toward her ex… well, something, a few rows down. “We broke up five years ago and she’s still got it out for me. Not my fault her kid loves me.” Iggy slides further into the seat in shame. “And I love the kid, but he’s a shit hockey player.” There’s a genuine criticism there, to be sure, but it’s tempered by actual affection. For, since she despises Arthur’s mother, she’s got a soft spot for her eleven-year-old boy. 

Still, Iggy concedes—“He’s no Teddy, that’s for sure.” It is a little difficult to spot Nicola’s son’s figure among the crowd, what with each one of them moving en masse, blurs in the ice. One figure stands out above all others, though, though she can’t be too certain and hockey is not a sport that she diligently follows. As it stands, Iggy’s talent lay in baseball—a proficiency shared by another Grimm sibling, much to her chagrin—and admittedly has a far more vested interest in Teddy’s mother than in Teddy himself. A small quirk of her lips, before she asks, “So, what’s your take? You think they got this in the bag?”

( @smthliminal )

[eroltilki]

closed starter for ingrid lozano ! ( @ingridlczano ) location ; jack's pumpkin farm !

"I think I'm running a really, really solid campaign for last place," Erol announced, squinting at the pumpkin in front of him with a frown. How was it possible that he could be so good with his hands and still be completely inept at pumpkin carving? He definitely didn't remember it being as complicated as it felt in that moment but maybe it was the judging of it all; he wasn't about to get into it mentally for the moment but he was content where he was, at the very least. "What d'you think?" He asked, tilting the pumpkin towards Ingrid with a sheepish grin. "I was going for Jack Skellington but I think he's getting a little deformed at this point. You'd think I'd be better at this since I work with my hands literally every day."

[angeldcgs]

his attentiveness had the potential to make him the ideal boyfriend, and while he wasn't a bad one, necessarily, there was the whole matter of his chronic infidelity. seeing as ingrid wasn't his girlfriend, though, he didn't feel the need to use that trait for good. instead, he could be as petty as he wanted to be, gathering information and using it for his own selfish purposes later on, more often than not for arguments. "so am i! it's not just what i want, it's what's best for the both of us. you're just too stubborn to see that right now..." as for being messy and complicated, well... they both fit that criteria far too well. their similarities were perhaps one key reason why they wouldn't work together as an actual couple, seeing as they were both too volatile and stubborn to play nice and make amends. case in point, they couldn't even agree on breaking up. "uh, because? you play the part well, but i know you're not as unaffected by everything as you act. i know you care... about me." he supposed denying his own potential feelings about never seeing her again was futile, especially after he's already fought so hard to get her to stay, so he didn't bother. finally something she said began to get through to him, and he faltered for a moment, lowering her skirt slightly with a sigh. "it was easy," he reminded her. "before you tried to throw it all away." seemingly having lost his fight, river merely handed over the fabric he'd held clutched in his fist, accepting that he couldn't force her to stay forever. "i could break up with my girlfriend, y'know..." not necessarily that he'd make her his girlfriend if that were the case, but at least they wouldn't have to sneak around so much, and maybe that would appease her.

the problem with river (other than her fondness for him) is that he actually listens when she speaks, which is why he picks up on a few truths she would've rather not revealed quite so openly. "n-no. no! i'm not sayin' i'm any of those things! but i'm fuckin' human, and i'm messy and complicated and i don't just do whatever the fuck you want me to do!" besides, she wasn't sure she'd call what she felt for him feelings.... it was just comfortable with him. safe. not a luxury she had with many other men. "first of all, why do you think i'd be hurt leaving you?? if anyone's gonna be butt-hurt about it, it's clearly you." the current conversation was evidence enough as far as she was concerned. brows still furrowed, she kept her fists balled up at her sides in an attempt not to prove his point. "i mean.... — yeah, of course i do! but that's not what this is supposed to be: this is supposed to be easy. i don't fight with other girls' boyfriends, riv."

[lcvewaslcst]

continued from here

carter was well aware that things were complicated. she had someone at home waiting for her. and while the complexity of it all wasn't lost on him, he also knew that there wasn't much that he wasn't willing to do for her. to keep her exactly like this. so, as he leaned into her slick arousal, a low hum of approval emptied from his throat, the taste lingering on his tongue enough to drive him absolutely mad. is this was all she needed from him, he would simply give in and hand himself over to her on a silver platter. rough, calloused fingers slide against the inside of her thighs, propping them open for him. the sight alone was enough to make his shorts around his hips tighten. but, this wasn't about him. it was all her. an eager tongue slid along her folds, chasing the sweet arousal before passing slowly back and forth against her sensitive bundle of nerves. "perfect. you're perfect," he rasps against her, his tongue diving right back in to lap messily against her.

[someotherdog]

♥ : for a loving voicemail

♚ : for a confessing voicemail

☆ : for a drunken voicemail

♦: for an apologetic voicemail

for soapgrid!!!

♥ : ingrid didn't know why she was feeling so warm inside. no reason at all for her to be in a good mood, especially considering how awful things had been for her in recent years, but god damn it, ingrid laura sergeant woke up on the right side of the bed that morning! she thought she'd text soap, but he didn't answer the various messages she sent in a row. decidedly annoying, ingrid took her next step and actually called him, only to have to leave a message. the horror.

"heeey soapie. i know it's not very millennial of me to call you and leave a voicemail, but that's what you get for not answering my texts! i guess i don't really have anything important to say, but i was going to stop by your apartment with some starbucks and a bag of nerds gummy clusters—the berry kind, not the rainbow—but you're a loser that doesn't look at their phone, so you get nothing. just because i'm not some super tough macho military guy doesn't mean you can ignore me, y'know? i might've even splurged and taken you on a trip to target but noooo. i guess i'll have to be your sugar mama, and i mean that literally, some other day. maybe i just wanted to say thank you for letting me hang around after everything, since i'm suuuch a nice person, but you'll never know and fuck it's about to cut me of—"

shit. well, she had been rambling anyway. if that didn't get his attention, she didn't know what would.

♚ : she had her good days. she had her bad days. most of them fell into the bad category, but occasionally there was a bright blip in the darkness. a lot of those blips had to do with soap. he didn't even do much, forever a stoic man that was tall as a mountain, but sometimes it felt like he was a mountain that shielded her from things getting too dark and sometimes she wished that he would kiss her. other times, that thought made her cringe. she thought it might've been called trauma bonding or maybe it was transference, she didn't really know or care, but it felt like he was a mountain or a life raft or just fucking something. something for her to hold onto. her siblings couldn't relate to her since she got back, her parents looked at her as if she was a stranger, and all the friends she had before had moved on in ways ingrid didn't know if she would ever be able to do. it was all so stupid. she knew she shouldn't have been calling him, bothering him once again in the middle of the night. maybe that's why her call went to voicemail. perhaps soap was getting sick of her shit. she was somewhat relieved he didn't pick up.

"hey soap. i know it's very late and i call you too much. i don't really know what i wanted to say so bad that i had to call you again at four in the morning. i guess... i guess that i just wanted to thank you. it feels like my heart is missing sometimes, i don't know if you'll understand what i mean by that. but it feels like i have it back when you pick up the phone or you come get me because i haven't left my apartment in days. sometimes... soap, sometimes it feels like i love you. jesus. that was a crazy thing to say. i'm sorry. i don't know that i actually do, if that helps. yeah. shit, i'm sorry. can you pretend you never heard this? thanks. anyway... goodnight. or good morning. whatever. bye."

yeah, she was definitely relieved he didn't pick up.

☆ : ingrid had never really been a party girl. even in high school, she really only attended parties because she felt like she had to. miss teen dream, the popular nice girl that was friends with everyone and cared about her studies, but not too much or she'd be boring. as an adult, she wasn't a stranger to having a glass of wine at dinner or having a cocktail after work with some coworkers, but she hadn't tossed back shots like a college girl since she was a college girl. on that night out though, after dealing with a tough case that made her want to rip her hair out, ingrid somehow kept drinking with barely any convincing from her friends. somehow, she ended up calling soap from the back of her uber.

"ummmm, hello? soapie. how dare you not answer my call? are the fuckin' queen of england or somethi—what? no, i'm not talking to you, uber driver. i don't even know you. anyway, sooooap! will you ever tell me your fucking real name? i know your parents didn't name you after a cleaning product. i mean, i don't know much about your family or really anything about you at all, meanwhile you know, like, my social security number and how much real, actual money i spent on candy crush last summer? that's not very fair. anyway, i hope your parents didn't name you soap. this uber driver keeps giving me weird looks. i don't think he thinks soap is your true christian name either... i gotta go, i kind of feel like throwing up... anyway, learn to answer your fucking phone!"

♦ : she had been a true, honest to god mess lately. ingrid realized she had been acting erratically, but she couldn't stop herself. knowing that she was pushing people away, people that wanted to help her, made her feel sick inside. it made her feel sick inside that no one could understand why she was acting out. no one but soap. she had fucked that up too, though. soap seemed to still feel some sort of protectiveness over her. she began to resent that supposed obligation. she had spent most of her life feeling protected, the eternal damsel in distress. the love that her loved ones felt for her started to feel like a cage and ingrid finally snapped. she cussed everyone out, drank like a fish, tapped out her savings and maxed out her credit cards. no one understood. they didn't close their eyes and see what she had seen. no one but soap. the only person that could understand, and as far as ingrid knew, never wanted to speak to her again. eventually, the darkness closing all the way in, she had to reach out. even if he didn't care for her anymore.

"errr—sorry. hi. um, i didn't expect to get your voicemail. i get it, though. i wouldn't want to talk to me either. i won't take up too much of your time, if you even listen to this or maybe just delete it immediately after seeing it, but i wanted to say that i'm sorry. for all of it. i've been a terrible person for, like, an entire year now. nobody wants to deal with my bullshit anymore, which i understand, but... i don't know. it still sucks, even if i did it to myself. i think i've been going through the five stages of grief or whatever since we came back, even though no one close to me died. just like... grief over the whole situation. we never should've been out there in the first place. anyway... this is getting too long. i'm sorry, soap. let me know if you'd like to go to a movie or something someday. if not, just know i really do wish the best for you. i hope you're coping with it better than i am. military training and all that. but, um, yeah. bye, soap. thank you for saving my life, though i don't know that i deserved it."

she didn't realize she had been crying until it was over.