#but she doesn’t lose sight of wanting to work within the legal system

[daydreamerdrew]

The Savage She-Hulk (1980) #1

[comfortwriting]

A Triwizard Baby Part 1 - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist,Taglist

Part 1 Fred Weasley x Fem Reader mini series

Requested/About: Best friends, Y/N and Fred Weasley share a night of passion together during the Triwizard Tournament, after that, everything changes and Fred can’t figure out why until the night of the final task. Y/N has the world on her shoulders, and Fred slowly finds himself losing everyone around him. 

Want to be tagged? Let me know!

A/N: the ages/school year has been adjusted so everything is legal.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, intoxication, drunk and unprotected sex, losing virginity.

It all started when the more outspoken, confident twin crashed into you on the Hogwarts Express in your first year at Hogwarts. Sure, you were upset, embarrassed, and annoyed, but when you looked up and realised who had swept you off your feet, you knew it wasn’t your brain messing with you - from that moment you had fallen for him; Fred Weasley.

After your first train ride, classes, and many more along the way, over the years, you and Fred became best friends, going through thick and thin together, sharing the worlds loudest laughs, best pranks, and even the biggest tears. Your tiny crush on him blossomed into something much more, a love that couldn’t stop growing and spread out of control, but you were sure that Fred didn’t feel the same, and as you became older, reaching the end of your years in the education system, Fred discovered other girls and sex, whilst you drowned yourself in the life of parties and bottles of fire whiskey.

Fred loves the parties, he loves fire whiskey too, but he loves the other girls and the sex in a different way because they feed his ego, and it helped take his mind off you and the fact he didn’t have the guts to pursue you.

You were labelled as the party-girl which every girl wanted to be and wouldn’t challenge to a drinking game if their gold was on the table, and Fred gained the title as the play-boy, who made every lad jealous and watch in envy as he never got rejected and could flirt with any girl he wanted.

You had to hear the stories of your best friend fucking your classmates, and how much they loved it, praising him and gossiping about how skilled he was with his fingers, tongue, and cock. You were jealous, and you didn’t want to admit it, but you couldn't invent your sex life to reach Fred’s rank - you had never had sex - you were a virgin through and through.

Sitting next to Fred on the edge of his bed in the hospital wing you shook your head, laughing at the state of him and his twin, George.

“I’ve got to say, you’ve got a magnificent beard.” You laughed, the sight of George being an old man funnier than you expected.

Fred smirked despite still being pissed off with George “I never knew you were into older men” he winked.

“Well, you never asked.”

George groaned out “get a bloody room, the pair of you!”

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled Fred’s pillow from under his head, causing him to slump down, you bashed George with his pillow, sticking your tongue out at him and pulling a face.

“Y/N, don’t encourage them!” Madame Pomfrey hurried over, retrieving Fred’s pillow “Out! Out!” she shooed you.

Standing up and put your hands up in defence “Alright! I’m going!”

Fred’s smirk turned into a grin, “Watch the first task with us?” he asked.

You nodded “with pleasure, I heard Bill is going to be there.”

And you weren’t wrong, the first task came within the blink of an eye, you were honoured to meet Bill in passing - more like a “Hello!” with an awkward wave, followed by “Goodbye!” and another awkward wave, but the dragons fascinated you, and Fred spent the majority of the task watching you instead of the Hungarian Horntail, Swedish Short-Snout, Chinese Fireball, and the Common Welsh Green. George had to keep reminding Fred that their money and future business was on the line.

During the celebration party as it got later in the evening, you and everyone else surrounded Harry, clapping and cheering as he lifted the golden egg infant of him, parading it around, all of you watching and waiting eagerly, encouraging him to open it in hopes that it could liven up the party - giving everyone an excuse to stay up late and continue drinking.

Fred and George lifted Harry up, propping his legs on either of their shoulders, their arms strapping him in so he was above the large and busy crowd.

“Knew you wouldn’t die, Harry.”

“Lose a leg.”

“Or an arm.”

“Pack it in altogether.”

“Never!”

Fred and George stopped heaving Harry into the air, Seamus begging for a clue, you stared at Fred, your eyes getting lost in the strands of his long golden hair, but you weren’t the only one - the girls behind you were fixating on him, whispering about his good looks and height.

You zoned out completely, the same jealousy and bitterness spreading through your veins, you had to talk to him, tell him you loved him, but how?

Harry opened the egg, bright light of gold broke out followed by loud screeching, breaking you out of your toxic train of thoughts, Fred and George dropping Harry and flinching like you and everyone else, covering your ears and begging Harry to shut it up.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron interrupted.

Fred huffed and shook his head “As if this party couldn’t get any worse.” he turned around and tried to flee to his dorm room, calling it a night and encouraging everyone to get to bed.

The two girls behind you who were salivating over Fred pushed past you and called him over, blushing and batting their eyelashes at him.

“We’re throwing a party of our own” she eyed him up as if he was something to eat “tonight doesn’t have to end on a downer.”

Her plan worked, instantly gaining Fred’s attention, he grinned and nodded “Wicked, can I bring someone along?”

“George is already invited” her friend replied, smirking at George.

“Can I bring someone else too, though?” Fred asked.

The girls exchanged looks with one another cautiously, but they didn’t want to let him down or uninterested him, “Of course! Who?”

Probably his friend Lee or some girl he’s fucking.

“Y/N!” Fred called out, smiling at you “You want to join this party with me?”

The girls glared at one another, muttering and swearing under their breaths to one another.

This is your moment, Y/N, don’t mess this up, shoot your shot.

“Yeah!” You smiled back, feeling honoured and slightly shocked “Yeah, sure!”

Once everyone had cleared off, you and your new group sneaked out of the common room and into Moaning Myrtle's territory, all the professors were either partying or fast asleep, even Mr Filch and Mrs Norris grudgingly had the night off.

The dark and grubby bathroom spun around whilst you got onto your knees, the cold tile floor making you shudder when coming into contact with your warm legs. The two girls smirked and sat down too, the shorter one pulling Fred to sit down next to her, her hand continuously placing itself on his knee, ticking you off.

“Well, since Y/N decided to drink her feelings, we’ve got an empty bottle and we could do with a game to lighten up the mood.” The shorter girl spoke out, causing Fred to give her a dirty look for calling you out.

“What is it then?” George asked “Pretty shit place for a party.”

“Careful” you hiccoughed “Don’t want to make Mrytle cry.”

“We’ve decided truth or dare, but with spinning the bottle. Whoever it lands on has to answer a truth, or accept a dare from the spinner.”

You rolled your eyes “Seems very... tween like of you.”

Fred laughed.

“You weren’t invited, so feel free to leave if this party isn’t good enough for you.”

You ignored her and played along anyway.

“George” she squealed “Truth or dare?”

George hesitated for a moment “Truth”

“Does Fred keep you up at night with all the girls he brings back?”

After what felt like an eternity, the bottle finally landed back and George, and he spun the bottle, causing it to land on you.

“Y/N, truth or dare?”

I swear if you ask me anything stupid -

“D-dare.” you hiccoughed again, trying to act bigger than your boots.

George stared at the two desperate girls and looked back at you “I dare you to snog my brother.”

Okay, I really wish I went for truth, what was I thinking? Bloody hell!

“Okay then” you replied nervously, crawling in the middle of the circle, Fred crawling over to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Fred’s warm, large, gentle hands cupped your face, leaning in, his lips pressed against yours shocking both of you as if a spark had ignited, whilst you kissed back, your hands tangled in his long golden hair and the two of you were suddenly hit with the realisation of how in love with one another you actually were.

More students had caught wind of the lame party and livened it up, playing music and brightening the bathroom up with colourful moving lights, bringing more fire whiskey and encouraging everyone to dance.

Everyone around you watched as you and Fred continued to snog, his tongue dancing with yours, his cock starting to support a semi, everyone cheered aside from the two girls who felt as if they had shot themselves in the foot.

“Okay!” the girl called out again, trying to pull Fred away “Times up!”

but he didn’t want to stop, and neither did you, the memories you shared playing out in front of you.

“I’m sorry for crashing into you” he frowned, sitting next to you on the train “is your head alright? I can try and make the bruising go away.”

You couldn’t stay mad at him, you chuckled and shook your head “It’s okay but thank you for offering” you smiled.

His twin brother entered the carriage, “Fred-” he stared at you “what’s happened to you?”

“I wish you were coming with us” Fred sighed, grumbling to himself.

“Oh don’t be silly, you’re going on holiday!” you beamed “just make sure you take plenty of pictures, I’ve heard Egypt is lovely!”

“I’ll write to you and I’ll send the photos through the owl post if I’ve got enough time.”

“We’re supposed to be studying for our O.W.Ls!” you hissed at Fred, hiding your answers from him as he continued to make your stationary levitate and drop onto your head.

“Please take part in this prank, Y/N” he begged “I promise I won’t ask for anything ever again.”

“But you always do, Freddie!”

He stared at you, pouting and making puppy eyes.

“Fine” you sighed, giving in “Let’s go and do it then.”

Fred punched the air and grabbed you by the hand, pulling you away from your desk, the two of you smirking and giggling with excitement.

“I didn’t realise it would be this cold” you shivered, standing outside of Honey Dukes, snow falling from the sky and sticking to the pavement.

Fred pulled off his knitted jumper “Put this on love, don’t want you freezing now do we?”

The memories snapped away as Fred fell back, his arm in the girl's hand, you were desperate for more and opened your eyes, frowning that he had been dragged away for a dance with her, you watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands rested on her waist.

Getting off your now red cold knees and standing up, you downed some more fire whiskey from the first bottle you laid eyes on and decided to copy Fred - dancing with anyone who wanted you - grinding against them, having them hold you close and breathing down your neck, you had to admit, for someone who had never done this before, you were doing a pretty good job, almost as if you had done it before.

Fred couldn’t get you, the kiss, the feeling of your lips, tongue, and the replay of memories out of his head. Breaking away from the girl, he approached you as you pulled away from the tall Hufflepuff lad, finally reuniting with the love of your life. Almost instantly, Fred’s lips collided with yours, your hands back to being tangled in his hair and his hand squeezing your behind teasingly, alcohol on your breath and his.

“I want you.” you breathed, pulling away from the kiss “I want you to fuck me like you do everyone else.”

“I want you too” Fred replied, taking your hand and fleeing from the party.

After what seemed like a marathon, you finally burst into Fred’s empty dorm room, he shut the door behind him and locked it before kissing you passionately, lowering you onto the bed and taking your clothes off.

This was it, the moment you were craving for years on end, this was it, this was how you would be losing your virginity, this would be giving yourself to your best friend entirely.

But Fred had no idea that it was your first time, in his head, you were having just as much sex as him.

Fred couldn’t get over the sight of your naked body, your breasts, your tummy, your bum, your inner thighs, your exquisite crotch - you were the definition of perfect, he had forgotten about every girl he had ever seen naked at the sight of you, you were making him feel as if this was his first time all over again.

Fred sucked on your nipples whilst he stimulated your clit with his fingers, warming you up, the sensation of his warm tongue and mouth sent shivers of pleasure down your spine, and as nervous as you were, you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he played with your touch starved clit.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Fred asked, pulling away from your breasts.

“Yes,” you breathed out, slurring slightly “I’m ready Freddie.”

Fred’s head, like yours, was also spinning. He stumbled and reached for the lube, applying it onto his length and then across your tight hole. Fred felt as if he had forgotten something, but the more he wracked his own brain, the more he couldn’t remember what he needed. He laid you on your back and climbed on top, lining himself against your entrance.

Looking at you one last time to make sure, you nodded, and he slowly pushed himself inside of you, stretching you out as your walls tightened around you. You winced as you experienced an entirely new feeling, Fred slowed down and stayed still inside of you so you could adjust to his size when you were ready to continue, Fred started to trust himself inside and out of you gently, holding your hand and kissing your head as you started to feel incredible pleasure, your soft moans spilling from your lips.

Fred couldn’t believe he had gotten so lucky, he was fucking - no - he wasn’t - he was making love to the most perfect girl in the world, someone he actually cared deeply for and had feelings for, you weren't a stranger, you were special, you weren’t temporary, you were soothing his aching heart - your absence was the cause, and your love - the medicine.

You watched as Fred’s hard cock slid inside and out of you, you admired his perfect body, the way he moaned and expressed the pleasure he was feeling through his facial expressions, you gripped onto his hand tighter as he picked up his speed and throbbed inside of you, you didn’t want this to end, you wanted to live inside this moment forever.

“My- My tummy feels tight” you panted, not knowing what was happening.

“Cum for me, Y/N.” Fred panted too “Don’t hold back.”

Oh, so that’s what that feeling means?

The pressure built up until it burst, you felt yourself explode as the pleasure became more intense, you relaxed and released, creaming down Fred’s length, your walls strangling him.

“Fuck!” Fred panted, the beads of sweat spreading across his forehead and back “I’m cumming baby!”

Baby.

“Y/N!”

Fred released his sperm deep inside of you without realising he didn’t have a condom on, you didn’t know whether he had put one on or not either, you didn’t know to ask or mention it, you were on birth control up until last week, you had to come off it due to the side effects and stress you under as your N.E.W.Ts approached.

Fred slowly pulled out and collapsed in your arms, the two of you holding one another, your eyes too heavy to stay open.

As you drifted off to sleep, your life was about to change forever.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx

[mimzy-writing-online]

Hi! I just wanted to say thank you for writing the 'How to Write a Blind or Visually Impared Person'. I myself am not Blind or Visually Impared and i am in the process of writing the basis for such a character and your guide really helps. (And will help as well as be shared to those I know whom also need to see this.) I do have one question though: What about writing people blind from birth?

So, with writing characters who are blind from birth, it’s important to remember that there are both real people who have been completely blind from birth and people who have been legally blind or VI from birth. So, with blindness from birth, it doesn’t necessarily have to be no sight at all. It’s also important to note how small a minority that is in the blind community. 

Statistics

2.4% of Americans are living with visual disabilities. (Total (all ages): 7,675,600)

0.8% of school age Americans (ages 4-20) are living with a visual disability. ( Total: 706,400). This accounts for 9.2% of the entire blind community in the country.

90% of the entire blind community world wide has some remaining vision. People who are completely blind are a small minority.

Source: National Federation of the Blind

Molly Burke and her boyfriend Adrian (this post was written in 10/20/2020) are both people who have been legally blind from birth or a very young age (I can’t remember exactly when Adrian said he went blind, but it’s been his entire memorable life, though he still has remaining vision).

Most children are not diagnosed right away at birth. It heavily depends on the eye condition in question. Unless you had an easily observable symptom, such as nystagmus or pupils which don’t react to light or lazy eye, doctors and parents are unlikely to notice right away.

Most blind children don’t realize they’re blind until they’re a bit older and have developed enough communication skills to recognize that the visual experiences their family describes don’t match their visual experiences. Slowly small moments and situations begin to pop up where you realize there’s something everyone else seems able to do easily that you’re struggling with.

Particularly severe vision issues will be noticed by parents sooner than more subtle ones. The more usable sight a child has and the fewer visually observable symptoms they have, the longer they’re going to fly under the radar until the adults in their life realize something is different. Even then, it might not be until the child is able to communicate an inability to see what they’re describing that parents might realize something is wrong.

More severe vision issues will be picked up sooner. Parents realizing their children doesn’t respond to peek-a-boo or their eyes don’t follow moving items but sound will get their attention.

At this point in life, the economic situation of the child’s family will have a huge impact on how they grow up.

Families living below the poverty line or living in countries (America) where health care is expensive and treated as a privilege rather than a necessity and human right, or simply isn’t available at all, will have a much harder time getting their child diagnosed or treated.

Those families likely won’t have the education or knowledge needed to realize what is wrong and how they can help their child. Like health care, knowledge/education is treated like a privilege instead of a necessity and human right.

The education their children have access to will likely be lacking as well. Poorer communities have less funding for their students than wealthy communities. Those schools will have an even more restricted budget for accessible education, meaning they might not be able to pay the wages of a teacher’s aide to work one-on-one with that child in class, or have access to magnifiers and braille books/typewriters/education. Even though by legal law they must provide accommodations for disabled students, it doesn’t mean they will, and a financially disadvantaged family won’t have the resources to fight the school for their child’s rights (or even be aware of their child’s rights in the first place).

Children from middle class or wealthy families will (like all children in their community) have a huge advantage over their peers who attend schools with fewer resources. However, those blind children still have a disadvantage with their own peers.

Again, a school might refuse accommodations because administration can be jerks like that. It happens all the time. Parents may have to fight for their child’s rights to equal education through an aide, accessible school materials, and blind-friendly education.

Molly Burke made a video recently talking about her experiences with education as a blind child.

Learning Braille is a huge step in helping blind children, but it’s becoming less popular as audiobooks become more available. Audiobooks are amazing, and that method of reading is just as valid as any other, however a child reading solely with audiobooks will lose the literacy benefits. Like any writing system, Braille teaches spelling and grammatical rules necessary for educational and professional writing. While Braille is a writing system unique to itself, it still lives within the confines of whatever the native speaking language of the child is. Braille in English still uses the same spelling and grammatical function English uses. Braille in Spanish still bends to the rules of Spanish.

This is very different from different sign languages which can have grammar and syntax rules that completely differ from the native language of that country. Which is why you have languages called American Sign Language and British Sign Language and Canadian Sign Language that are using in English speaking countries but function very differently from both English and their fellow Sign counterparts. I’ve heard it said that ASL is more similar to the grammar structure of Chinese than it is to English, which gives the Deaf community a literacy disadvantage of their own when their native language and their reading/writing language are completely different languages.

Though there is a secondary system of Braille which uses shortened abbreviations. That is Grade 2 Braille, and it is learned after Grade 1.

This is Molly Burke’s video on Braille, which includes the history of Braille, how she personally learned it in school, and showing what a Braille Typewriter is and how it is used. 

I highly recommend it because Braille is something I only know from research and theory, not from personal experience.

Children who don’t learn Braille are statistically less likely to receive higher education and more likely to live below the poverty line.

Though blind adults are at a huge disadvantage in the work force with 80% of blind adults being unemployed but not by choice. Even though they have the same qualifications as other applicants, employers will almost always choose a sighted applicant over them, even if the sighted applicant is less qualified.

As adults, people who were born blind are just as affected by their upbringing, education, and family life as sighted adults are. The first eighteen years of their life shaped who they are as a person, so like any other character, you must consider what your character’s childhood must have been like for them to become the person they are now.

Once they reach adulthood, there isn’t much difference between people who were born blind or became blind early in life, compared to people who went blind as adults. But there are a few:

- Adults who were blind or became blind during their education are more likely to learn Braille than adults who went blind later in life.

-They are more likely to have O&M training. Though, only 10% of the blind community has a cane or guide dog, while the rest rely on remaining vision and sighted guides.

-O&M abilities (beyond mobility guides, there’s also learning how to use your remaining vision, your hearing and touch, and other senses to navigate without a cane/guide dog) are generally much better the longer you’ve been blind.

-Adults who have been living with blindness all their lives are more likely to be comfortable with their disability than newly blind adults, but that is not necessarily a rule. There is more confidence in living x-many years blind and knowing how to live your regular life without new major adjustments. 

-The fewer memories a person has of vision, the fewer visual things they are likely to miss. You can’t miss something you’ve never experienced or don’t remember. Doesn’t mean someone won’t wish they knew what stars and fireworks and the ocean looks like, but it won’t be as big a focus as it is for someone who went blind recently.

-People dream with whatever experiences they are living with now, meaning blind people dream with whatever their current vision is. Someone who has never seen or no longer retains any memories of sight will not have dreams with visuals.

(Note, memories of sight are something that fades with time, no matter when you went blind in life. After about 7 years of not seeing a particular image, you’re likely to have forgotten what that thing actually looked like, including color and other general vision things)

That is what I have for you. I’m going to link this to my masterpost so that it’s easily accessible for everyone and if you want to come back to it, you will be able to easily find it.

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 1

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

---

Thursday

Strictly speaking, shouting- even of a profane nature- coming from her boss’s office was not particularly unusual or noteworthy.  Malcolm Tucker was a passionate individual, who had no issue with speaking his mind and a talent for doing so creatively.

She was long since immune to his acid tongue, never blinking no matter the volume or count of profanity – it helped that he was wise enough to never turn on her, the woman who ruled his life and calendar.  She’d come a long way since she first started fresh out of uni, an absolutely terrified twenty-two-year-old who had been talked into accepting a temporary job as her best friend’s father’s assistant until she figured out what she wanted.

That had been eight years ago.

“Rose!”

Sighing, she slipped her feet back into her pumps and stood, smoothing her dress before grabbing her tablet and stylus.  Rapping perfunctorily on his office door before pushing it open, she entered to find him standing at the window with his hands on his hips, staring out at the London skyline.  Taking a moment to appreciate the spectacular view herself, she drew closer.

When he didn’t move, seemingly paralyzed, she coughed discreetly, finally sparking him back to life.

Shoulders slumping Malcolm turned to her, a familiar expression of frustration that eased slightly at the sight of her, tired eyes brightening.  “Yes?”

Rose raised an eyebrow, curious now at what had him so rattled he’d forgotten he’d called for her in the time it took her to enter.  “You shouted?”

“Right.”  He ran fingers through his hair, and she idly noted that he’d need a haircut soon.  The salt and pepper curls were growing wild and fearsome, much as the rest of him, and while the look personally suited him, it did not befit the Executive Director of a non-profit.  “Sorry. Erm- can you get my attorney on the phone?”

“Dave or Alex?”  She blinked innocently at him, his answer telling about whatever the problem was, praying it would be Dave.  The recent level of profanity suggested it would not be, though, his answer confirming her fear.

“Alex.”

Shit.  What now?  Alexander McHenry specialized in family law, and had been Malcolm’s lawyer since his divorce from Clara’s mum more than twenty-five years earlier.  Missy, the once Mrs. Tucker, showed up often enough to cause trouble that after all this time, the lawyer was still on speed dial.  “Two minutes.”

“Thanks.”  He moved towards his desk chair as Rose headed for the door, stopping her just before she exited.  “Hang on- tell him it’s not about Missy.  This is an inheritance matter.  Me inheriting, I mean, not Clara’s trust or anything.”

“Okay.”  She waited a beat, before offering, “If you want to give me more detail-”

Malcolm’s lips twitched into what, for him, was a smile.  “No, I don’t think so.  Not yet. I need to talk to him first.”

With a sharp nod she left, pulling the door mostly shut behind her before sinking into her desk chair, taking a moment to stare at a framed picture sat next to her desk phone.  It was from a few Christmases before, and showed her, Clara, and Malcolm smiling and laughing in front of the office holiday tree during the annual holiday party.  It was her favorite non-family picture, due in part to the genuine happiness radiating off of her in it.

Dialing the number from memory, she waited for Alex’s assistant to answer the phone.  “Lisa?  Rose. Yeah, does he have a few minutes? Malcolm has an inheritance question- no, nothing with her this time, thankfully, at least at the moment.  Yeah, I’ll hold.”

-

Eight years earlier

“So, what are you going to do now?” Clara asked, passing the champagne bottle over.  Now officially graduated, it would be their last time lying on the roof of their rented flat and watching the world pass.

“Fuck if I know.”  Rose took a generous swig, staring up at the dark sky.  Small lights twinkled overhead, a few airplanes mixing with the multitude of stars, and she tried to lose herself in the peaceful, black abyss as she had so many times before.  “My dad said I can come work for him, if I don’t find anything better.”

Clara hummed, taking back the bottle and sipping at it.  “I’m going to travel until classes for my masters start up.  You could come with me?”

Rose made a face only the night sky could see.  “Thanks, but no.  I need some time without you.”  She nudged her friend, turning her head to wink, and they both burst into giggles.  “I just can’t believe it’s over.  Uni is supposed to be 'the best years of our lives’.  I don’t really feel that way though; do you?”

“Nope.”  The raven-haired girl shrugged, sighing.  “We had fun though, didn’t we?”

“Absolutely.”

They sat in silence, passing the bottle back and forth, Clara draining the last drops before venturing, “You know, my Dad’s assistant Jo is retiring – he needs someone to take over.  What about you?”

“I don’t know if my future lies in being a PA though; no offense, but that’s not what I went to Cambridge for.”

“No, you went for French and Art History.  Have you changed your mind about that job at the Louvre?”

“No.”

“Then what good is it doing you?  Working for my dad’s gotta be at least a little less embarrassing than working for your own.  C’mon, it’ll be a temp thing, just until you find something better.  Give it a try?  For me?”

Rose groaned, easing herself upright, careful of both the alcohol in her system and the sloped roof they lay on.  “Fine.”

“Yay!”  Clara bolted upright, and they watched with wide eyes as the empty champagne bottle rolled right off the roof onto the pavement below, the shattering loud in the otherwise silent night.  “Oops.  Brilliant, so, first thing Monday, like eight- I know, I know, you and mornings- you’ll be great.”

It took Rose’s soused brain a few seconds longer than usual to understand her friend’s meaning.  “Hang on, did you already agree to this for me?”

“Yep!  Don’t worry, it’ll be fun!  And it’s only temporary, you’ll see.”

-

“Rose?”

She yelped, startled out of the memory, and looked up to find Malcolm standing beside her desk, watching her with a concerned expression.  “Hi!”

“All right?”

Rose nodded, tucking hair behind her ears and giving him a bright smile.  “Just thinking.  What’s up?” Biting her lip, she glanced him over and saw his backpack, a sure sign he was leaving for the day.  “Heading out?”

“Can’t get anything by you,” he joked, winking.  “I’m going to Alex’s office to go over a few things, then dinner with Clara tonight.  Do I have the restaurant address?”

“Graham does,” she said, referencing his personal driver, “and I’ll text you half an hour before just to be safe.”

“You’re welcome to join us,” Malcolm offered, just as he had every day since the dinner had been arranged a week earlier.  “Come hear about her travels.  She wants you to come too, you know.”  His open expression made it clear both Tuckers would welcome her presence, not that she doubted his sincerity.  In fact, his eyes bordered on pleading, which only served to amuse her.

Rose smiled, shaking her head fondly.  “Thanks, but no.  I’m seeing her Saturday for a girl’s night, I’ll hear all about it then.  Tonight, I am going home, ordering takeaway, and vegging.  It’s been such a week with the upcoming gala, I need a break.”  All of which was technically true, but not the real reason; Missy had a tendency to crash these types of dinners, and Rose went out of her way to avoid the woman whenever possible.  She’d heard enough stories from Malcolm and Clara over the years to give a clear picture of the woman behind the sweet and charming mask Rose saw.  Never mind she’d always had a gut instinct about her.  Sparring with Missy tonight?  No thank you.

Her boss narrowed his eyes, but accepted that.  “Fine, suit yourself. The samples should arrive this afternoon, right?  Bring them by on your way home.  Or stop by later tonight for ice cream sundaes; I bought all the favorites.”

Rose laughed.  “You mean I ordered all the ‘favorites’.  You didn’t do shit.”

“The fuck I didn’t!” he protested.  “I gave you a list!  And my credit card.”

“You’re going to be late.  Get lost,” she ordered, pointing towards the lift.  “I have a lot of work to do, and can’t until you’re gone.  Now shoo.”

“Yes ma’am,” Malcolm mocked, saluting as he backed away.  “As you wish. Have a good night.”

Shaking her head, Rose watched him go until he turned the corner and vanished out of sight, his whistling echoing back to her from the lift bank.

“Blimey, these Tuckers tucker me out!”

And, chortling to herself at the lame pun, she picked up the phone to order her lunch, kicking off her heels in favor of flats.

When the boss is away, the mice will play.

-

Malcolm paced Alex’s office, running his hands over his face and through his hair as he tried to think.  Why would he do this?  What was the point?  “Is this even legal?”

“I’m afraid so,” his old friend said sympathetically, calm and unruffled behind his own desk.  His view out the window wasn’t quite as nice as Malcolm’s, but decent nonetheless, Hyde Park in the distance.  “If you don’t meet the requirements within thirty days of today, then you forfeit the estate and it goes to the Government.  Those are the terms of the will.”

“It’s ludicrous,” he argued, settling his hands on his hips and glaring at the lawyer.  “That money should go directly to the foundation!  I don’t even want it!”

It hadn’t been a secret that his uncle was dying; eighty-five and riddled with cancer, it had only been a matter of time. Malcolm and Clara visited him when they could; even Rose had, on occasion, once they’d been forced to move him to a home, a live-in nurse no longer sufficient.  Apparently, she made quite the impression.  As his only heir, and the administrator of the charity Wallace had set up fifty years earlier, The Thistle Foundation, Malcolm had reasonably expected to be the beneficiary of the estate.  What he hadn’t expected were the strings.  What’re you trying to pull, old man?

“What do I do?”

“Talk to her?” Alex suggested unhelpfully.  “What could it hurt?”

Malcolm threw him a nasty look, before resuming his pacing.  “I can’t do that.  Could I- No.  Shit.”  For a moment, just a moment, he tried to picture that conversation.  Every scenario ended with her either laughing, quitting, or slapping him and then quitting.  “Rose- I can’t lose her,” he confessed, a bit more honestly than he intended.  “I mean- she’s a brilliant assistant.  I don’t have the time or patience to train a new one.”

“All your funding comes from the estate, doesn’t it?” Alex asked quietly, and the horrifying implications of that were enough to make Malcolm sink into a chair.

“Yeah.”  If the estate goes to the government, so does all the money.  The Foundation would dry up in six months, maybe less.  Only thirty percent of our funding comes from outside sources, and Vitex and the Tylers are half of that alone.  “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“You always have a choice,” the other man shrugged, “but practically speaking, no, you don’t.  Not if you don’t want to have to go job hunting, or worse, woo new investors.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What’s the timing on this?”

“You have thirty days from today to sign on the dotted line, and need to give notice two weeks before that.  So you need to decide if you’re going to… meet the terms, then you have to do that no later than then days from tomorrow, just to be safe.”

Malcolm hung his head in his hands, wondering if he dared broach the subject with Clara first.  Maybe she can tell Rose?  “And how long-”

“Five years.”

“For fuck’s sake, Alex!”

His friend snorted, coming around the desk to pat his shoulder comfortably.  “I didn’t write the will, you know.  Look, take a few days, think it over, then we can talk again.  All right?”

“Yeah.”  Checking his watch, he realized if he didn’t leave then, he would be late for dinner.  “I’ve got plans with my daughter, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you soon.”

Trudging out of the office and down to his waiting car, Malcolm lost himself in his thoughts.

What am I going to do?

[dark0angel13]

Something To Die For

So this if my first attempt at this pairing so I do hope you all like it! This is for you, @rosechi

Everything happened so fast, it’s as if his body is moving in slow motion while the world around him races at light speed, and his blood runs cold in his veins. How did it come to this? How had things gone so wrong? His mind is fogged with question after question, but without an answer to them, he’s left to rethink his entire life in the span of seconds.

“Where are you?” His voice cracks as the call rides the wind, but it’s drowned out by the overwhelming echo of sirens. Around him, buildings lay in crumples of concrete and glass, and his heart jumps into his throat. There is only one thing he longs to find, one thing that brings his life meaning and if he lost that, he’s not sure if he could go on living.

The dribble of blood on the side of his head brings him from his thoughts and as the adrenaline fades from his system, pain takes over and he’s doubling over, struggling to remain upright as every nerve ending in him is alight with white hot agony. Voices reach him before the bodies come into view and for the briefest of moments, he expects to see her, lopsided grin and eyes bright, but his hopes are dashed when his eyes settle on a limping man. He knows he needs to help, but he can’t bring himself to do it. It’s his job, it’s what he was paid to do, but right then, he couldn’t care less about wounded stragglers or victims. He only wanted one thing, only needed one thing.

“Where are you?” he screams until his voice is hoarse and his throat hurts but the only thing that comes back to him, is the rush of flames from what remains of the building before him. The hospital—a place of healing—was standing no more. Instead the walls are crumbled, the windows shattered and laying in jagged pieces littering the ground like a sick, twisted, version of confetti. His stomach lurches. This was her place of work, where she saved lives, and healed the sick. She was good at it too, he knows this, having seen her masterful hands at work many a time, content to just watch her from afar.

The sight before him now though—the tattered remains of a place he knew almost as well as his own house—was enough to reduce him to tears. She was his other half, the healer of his violent heart. When he would bring in a criminal for interrogation, she was always there to patch them up when he was done. When his work brought him to dangerous places, she was by his side, ready for the moment when her skills were needed and having her at his back made him confident in his own abilities. He wasn’t complete without her, and the mere thought of her absence was enough to drive him mad.

He moves with purpose, checking bodies as he goes, noting the ratio of survivors to deceased growing smaller and with it, his hope of finding her alive. The entire block looked like a war zone and if he bothered to check his phone, he would no doubt have dozens of missed called from his chief. He knows he should be aiding in rescue attempts, in trying to save as many lives as possible, but until he found her, until he knew she was alright, everyone else could go fuck themselves. Please be alive…please be alive… it repeats in his head like a mantra and when he sees the that all too familiar head of hair, his entire body goes rigid.

“No…” This can’t be happening right now! His panicked mind screeches to a halt, because with her unmistakable hair, he also sees the all too familiar crimson spreading out around her from her place under the collapsed ceiling. She’s not moving, he’s not even sure she’s breathing and just like that, his dreams of a future seem to fly out the window.

“Levy!” he’s at her side in seconds, flinging debris off her in a hurried attempt to extricate her from the undoubtedly heavy weight. She needs to be alive; she needs to survive. It’s entirely too long before he finally frees her and the severity of the situation finally kicks in, hitting him like a punch to the gut. Her mangled leg sends mind into survival mode. He’s stemming the bleeding with a tourniquet and checking for other serious injuries. Hell, he probably checked for a pulse four times before he finally grew brave enough to lift her. “Stay with me shrimp, I got ya.”

He’s not sure why he’s talking if he’s being honest with himself. She’s unconscious as he pulls her into his arms but talking to her seems to keep the panic from rising within him. She would always tell him that talking to patients in a coma was helpful because their subconscious could still hear them. So now, with her battered body in hanging limp in his trembling arms, he talks like it’s just a normal day, praying to God that she can hear him.

“I’ve got ya, just hold on Levy. I’m gonna get you some help.” He winces as he walks but his pain is nothing compared to the ache in his chest. “You’re safe now. You had me worried there for a second.” He’s rambling now but that’s okay, because it helps keep his head clear. He knows what he needs to do. The sight of the ambulance has relief washing over him and his eyes brighten, his words of reassurance hanging on the wind as he kept the unconscious woman in his arms up to date on what was happening. The men greet him with a salute, but he waves them off, barking orders before they even ready the stretched.

“She’s got a bad lac on her right leg,” he’s running on autopilot now, the words coming from him robotically. “Possible concussion and internal injuries. I pulled from under a collapsed ceiling, so she’s most likely got a few broken bones.” He watches them like a hawk after he sets her on the stretcher, her hand still clasped within his own

“Pulse is thready, she’s going into shock— “

His mind is racing as they rush her into the back of the bus, stopping only to determine the fastest way out of the area and his mouth is as dry as the desert suddenly. Were any of the roads blocked?

“Sir, you can’t come with us.”  A hand blocks his path and his thoughts. They try to argue with him but the look in his eyes show a man on the verge of a complete breakdown, and if they don’t let him on with her, he’s going to rip them apart. They concede after a string of curses leave his lips and as they speed off, her hand becomes cold in his grip. No, he thinks. This can’t be happening.

“Hey, do you morons know what the fuck you’re doing?” He snaps when one paramedic fails to start an IV. He could have done it better blind folded. “This woman means more to me than all your lives combined, you got that?”

“Please calm down sir,” the blonde who has been watching up until his point finally speaks and moves to help his partner. “Administering emergency aid in a moving vehicle is difficult under normal circumstances. Add to the fact that she’s in critical condition, and this bus is moving at twice the legal limit, do you think you can do a better job?”

Gajeel feels his body go stiff at the call out and even as the medic speaks, his hands move expertly to start the drip and something inside him relaxes. It seems at least this medic wasn’t completely incompetent. His eyes shift back to Levy, her pale feature sunken in and framed with unkempt and blood matted hair. Her body is riddled with gashes and bruises and even with the flow of oxygen from her mask, her breaths are shallow at best.

“She’s having a hard time breathing. Do something about it.” He barks, but the medic is already moving, opening her airway the best he can given the current situation and he lets out the breath he’s been holding. This man clearly knew what he was doing.

“The only thing we can do now is monitor her vitals and get her to the nearest hospital as soon as possible. We’ve arranged for a medivac to meet us if her condition worsens.” The words flutter through his mind but Gajeel doesn’t hear them, instead the only thing that runs through his mind is every possible way this could end badly. What if she dies en route? What if she loses her leg? What if… he can’t even think about it because if he does his heart is going to explode in his chest.

“Shit,” the small explosive word uttered from the medic makes his blood run cold and he’s watching the medic drag his stethoscope across her chest. “Get me a scalpel and some tubing. She’s got a hemothorax.”

He’s been around Freed enough to understand what the man is saying, but it doesn’t stop the surge of anger that rises within him when he watches as they cut into her side. He’s on his feet, hands balled into fists at his sides when they shove the tubing into her, and he watches the blood slowly drip out and onto the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He’s seething now. How knows they’re just doing their jobs but god dammit, this is the love of his life.

“We need to get the blood out of her lung. That’s why she’s having trouble breathing. This should help. You need to trust me.” The medic speaks matter of fact but Gajeel can see that deep down, past his bravado, past his cold detachment because of his job, this man loves what he does, and he knows Levy is in good hands.

“Just save her…”  He collapses back onto the seat, unsure of how much more of this his heart can take. Nothing else matters now. Not his condition, not his pain or anxiety. The only thing that matters to him right then, is Levy.

-

-

-

“Hey,” his eyes have bag under them from lack of sleep and his body is covered in bandages but when she opens her eyes, his entire world brightens. “How ya feelin’ short stuff?” Her groan of pain goes right to his heart.

“Hey,” she croaks out and he can’t help the tears that well in his eyes. “I found you.” Its her usual way of greeting, like nothing ever happened.

“I found you too.” He takes her hand, afraid that if he’s not touching her, she will disappear, and he can’t even fathom that thought.

“What happened?” her question hangs in the air for entirely too long because he’s not sure he knows himself. He’s still trying to piece it all together if he’s being honest.

“Honestly, I don’t know. The chief has been on a rampage the past few days, but we’ve yet to get any answers. Only thing we do know, is that they suspect it was a terrorist attack.” He speaks with a heavy heart and the fear that flashes through her eyes, tug at his heart strings. She didn’t deserve this, no one deserved this.

“I see… makes sense with Magnolia General Hospital being the only trauma center in the city, it’s the heart of Magnolia.” She speaks automatically now, and he cant help the smile that grows on his face. She always rambles when she’s deep in thought, and her intelligence was only one of the many reasons he loved her.

“Take it easy, you’ve been out for a few days now. Had me worried half to death too.” He forces a chuckle, but she sees right through his act.

“How bad is it?” Her expression deflates when her eyes settle over the thick bandages on her leg.

“Bad…” he whispers with a tight throat. “I almost didn’t get to you in time.” He leans down to rest his head against her own, and the trembling takes over. “They’re not sure if you’ll be able to walk again.”

“Is that all?” her sigh leaves him confused and he’s looking up to meet her eyes. “I was worried for a second there.”

“Levy,” he can’t believe she’s so calm at a time like this. “Do you understand what I’m saying here shrimp? The building crushed some of the vertebrae in your spine and you have a few damaged nerves. You may not walk again.” He doesn’t even want to recall his reaction when the doctor told him all this. He almost killed the man.

“I heard you the first time Gajeel,” she says matter of fact, and her bubbly voice does things to him. “I’m alive though, that’s all that matters.” Leave it to her to see the silver lining in this dismal moment. Just another reason for him to love her.

“This is serious Levy,” he pleads with her, placing a hand on her right leg, watching and waiting for a reaction. She makes none and it only serves to confirm his fears. “You can’t feel this can you?”

“No,” she agrees softly and his jaw clenches. “But that’s okay because I still have you.”

“Dammit Levy, this is serious!” He’s on his feet, tears streaming down his face as he tries to get her to see the severity of the situation.

“Gajeel calm down,” her voice soothes him. “Whatever happens… we will face it together.”

He drops to his knees before her and does the only thing he can think of, he hugs her. He wraps her in his arms and holds onto her like his life depends on it. Her body is warm against his and though she grunts in pain, her arms entangle around his neck and he feels her calm wash over him in waves. She’s always keeping him grounded, always driving him forward and supporting him and its all he can do not to collapse against her, to let his emotions run wild because he had almost lost her in the accident.

“If I had lost you…” He can’t even finish the sentence and her hand rubs soothing patterns up and down his back.

“I know…” and she does. She knows him better than anyone. She’s his reason for being a cop. She’s his inspiration and motivation when he feels like the world is crumbling around him. She’s his rock.

“I love you Levy.” He leans in and kisses her gently, loving the way she melts into him and his heart skips into overdrive.

“I love you too.” Her words are what drive him forward, what give him the confidence to put his life on the line every day, and her very existence gives him life.

She’s his breath of fresh air when he’s struggling to breathe. His sunshine when clouds threaten to ruin his days. She’s the yin to his yang, and he want’s nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with her. She’s his reason to live when he loses all hope. She’s worth every sliver of pain in his body, every ache in his chest and he would take it all in spades if it meant he could save her from her own agony. For reasons he can’t explain, the words of his late father drift into his mind and he finds himself smiling.

“I’ve found it, Dad.” The words leave his lips and she looks to him with a raised brow.

“Found what?”

“Something to die for.”

END

I hope I did Gajevy proud because I think they are soul mates and I just love them together! Let me know what you all think! Any and all feedback is strongly encouraged! By the time I got around to finishing this, the ending was more rushed than intended, but I couldn’t keep you waiting any longer Rose, so I hope it brings a smile to your face!

[fernwehbookworm]

Woke The F*ck Up- Chapter 29

August 15th, 2018

Three concerts down in her current world tour and Lena is crashing down from the high of it fast as she paces the new hotel room. Lena had released an album so shortly after her last that when it was announced that she was stepping back from music for a while, every venue sold out within the hour of tickets going up for sale. Right now though, she’s half-dressed in a new blue suit. The black pumps are waiting by the couch, and the jacket hangs by the door. She hates that she had to fly back to National City for this, but she has to see this through. Lena turns on her heel and paces the other direction while rehearsing in her head what she has to say.

“Lee,” Kara says softly from the couch.

Lena startles, forgetting her girlfriend is there. She turns to face Kara who has been watching her spiral into a near panic, pulling her out just in time. Lena smiles softly at her savior and goes to sit next to Kara. Kara immediately grabs both her hands, warm on Lena’s cold, nervous ones.

“Babe, you are going to be fine. I know it will be hard, but you can do this. We are all with you.”

“I know. I know. I got through Lex’s trial. I can get through Lillian’s. It’s just so personal this time. She kidnapped me, hospitalized you. It’s so much more emotional this time.”

“And you are even stronger.” Kara presses her forehead to Lena’s, and Lena closes her eyes and just absorbs Kara’s supportive presence.

A soft knock at the door and Lena’s assistant, Eve, calls that the car is waiting for them. Kara calls back that they will be right there, but she continues to sit with Lena for a few moments more. It’s going to be a long day. With a deep breath, Lena stands and Kara quickly follows. Kara holds Lena’s hand as she slips on her shoes and helps Lena into her blazer.

**

“In your own words, can you explain how you saw the events of the past year and a half?” the prosecutor asks Lena.

Lena’s pointer finger digs into the side of her thumbnail as she tries hard not to fidget. She has been briefed on this part and has practiced it over and over to try and be as calm and unbiased as possible.

She takes a deep breath. “It is no secret that I was estranged from my family. I took a path that was seen as unacceptable. My father did, however, leave money and a small percentage of the LuthorCorp stock in a trust fund before he committed his crimes that lead to his death. Before my brother was arrested, he legally transferred his shares to me as well. That left me with the majority and appointed me as the CEO of LexCorp, which my brother had changed the name to. I, however, have never had an interest in the corporate world. But as the new CEO, I had a very specific life insurance policy that essentially paid out large amounts of money to any kidnappers for my safe return.”

“And the defendant was aware of this policy?”

“I am sure she was. My father and brother had the same policy.”

“Did the defendant try to contact you before the alleged kidnapping?”

Lena tightens her hand into a fist at the word. There was nothing ‘alleged’ about it. “Yes. Several times. But after my brother’s arrest, I wanted nothing to do with my family. I already had an acting CEO managing the company as I decided what to do. My mother called and left messages that I ignored. She had made offhand comments about immigrants and the state of America before. I believe it alienated me even more. She was also not happy with my sexuality and people who were like me."

Jane Ramos paces in front of Lena as she pauses for the next question.

"How sure are you it was Lillian Luthor that kidnapped you?"

"One hundred percent. She was in my rental car when I was leaving National City Airport. She sprayed this aerosol spray in my face, and the next thing I knew I was waking up blindfolded and tied to a chair. She then proceeded to lay out her plan that either she would get the money from my insurance policy or would get to kill Power Girl when she came to save me. Or both. She was really hoping to Kill Power Girl and get the money. Cadmus had run out of funds since my brother's arrest."

"But you never saw her face after losing consciousness?"

"No. But that voice. I would recognize it anywhere. It has haunted me all my life."

"Why was your captor so sure the Power Girl would save you?" Jane asks.

"Power Girl was on a mission to end Cadmus. I'm sure she had made the connections. I'm also sure it could have been anyone that Cadmus took, and she would have been there."

"So Power Girl obviously rescued you. How?"

Lena knew this was coming. But she couldn't exactly put on record a secret government agency was working with the vigilante, who she was dating and whose sister was in that agency.

"I don't know. I was blindfolded the entire time. I remember hearing explosions and gunfire. A lot of shouting. Then something was tied around my waist, and I was hoisted upwards. Suddenly, I was on the roof with Guardian, and he was telling me to stay put while he went down and helped Power Girl get out. She took me on this zip line then and drove me to the police station. That was the last time I saw my mother before today."

Lena glances at the woman then. Lillian sits at the table next to her lawyer as stoney-faced as ever. She is careful not to show any emotion, but Lena almost cowls under the heat of fury in Lillian’s eyes. The lost little girl still trapped deep inside Lena wants to run away. Lena takes a deep breath.

“My mother is a very greedy person. She married for money and not love. She seized power wherever she could. Through connections or money or blackmail. The price of that greed has cost her more than she could ever imagine. Her husband is dead, her son is jailed, and her daughter never wants to see her again. In the end, she was the poison that tore our family apart and drove me away. I just hope our justice system doesn’t fail because my mother should not be a free woman.”

Murmuring ripples through the crowd in the courtroom following Lena’s statement, but Lillian does not make the same mistakes her son did. She stays quiet and allows her lawyer to cross-examine Lena. He tries to make it seem that since Lena never saw Lillian after losing consciousness that it could possibly have not have been Lillian afterall. After about twenty more minutes of questions, Lena is released from the stand and back to her waiting girlfriend and friends. Sam and Ruby sit in the row behind with Alex as Lena squeezes between Kara and Jess. Winn sits in the third row with Eve.

The rest of the day drags on as more witnesses are called and questions are asked. Jane warned Lena that this trial could go on for several days due to the sheer mass of crimes and how money was funneled in and out of the country. Honestly, Lena has planned to just come for this first day and then for the sentencing day. Kara squeezes Lena’s hand every once and awhile. After the lunch recess, the Arias women and Alex don’t return to the courtroom because of an increasingly bored eleven-year-old. Ruby has grown fidgety and her phone is no longer entertaining. Lena can’t blame the girl. She is going a little stir crazy also. Eventually, the judge calls a recess until the next day. It is so much like Lex’s trial but all so different. Cameras still camp out front, but this time, Lena leaves with Kara instead of Kara disappearing ahead of time. Jess, Eve, and Winn trail behind them. It touches Lena that she has more than Kara for her support. She actually has a support system with multiple friends. With a family that chooses her for everything she is.

In the end, Lillian is also sentenced to spend the rest of her life in prison, and Lena feels like a giant weight has been lifted off her chest. She returns to her tour feeling lighter and happier, going along even better with the brighter sound of her new album.

**

September 1st, 2018

“What do you mean you have to go? This was your night off! We haven't had any time together in weeks. Ruby starts back to school Monday, and who knows when we will be free again?” Sam stands in the living room on the opposite side of the couch from Alex as she slips on her jacket and pulls her gun from the wall safe behind a picture of Sam and Ruby. Alex had installed it when she started spending more and more time at their house.

“I’m sorry. But this is a high value target that they are bringing in. He’s been at the top of our list for awhile, and the task force finally nailed him.”

“But why do you have to be there? The whole point of this was so you would have more regular hours. All they are going to do is throw the man in a cell and fill out paperwork.”

“Because it’s my team! How can I expect them to look to me if I don’t show up?” Alex slides her gun to its holster with a bit more force than necessary. Alex reaches for the door knob and pauses. “I’ll be back in two hours. We can talk then.”

“Don’t fucking bother! Stay at work. It’s obviously more important.”

Alex tenses, ready to bite back with something that she knows she would regret. Instead, she bites the inside of her cheek and twists the door knob. Alex heads off into the night fuming and leaves her girlfriend near tears in the living room.

It only takes Alex about fifteen minutes to realize how big of a mistake she made. Another twenty minutes to get to the closest store that sells flowers and buy the biggest bouquet possible. Alex is back on Sam’s doorstep before the hour is over. She has called and let the Agent in charge of third shift know that she isn’t going to be in.

Sam answers the door, wrapped in a blanket and red eyed. “What?” she snaps.

“I was wrong. And an absolute idiot. You were right. I don’t have to be there for everything. I have to learn how to balance work and personal things. But you were wrong, work is not more important. You are. And Ruby. I’m sorry I lost sight of that.”

Sam stares at her, long and hard. She looks from Alex, to the flowers, and back up. Sam considers Alex’s words. “You are an idiot. But You are my idiot, and I love you.”

“You love me?”

“Yes, you big idiot”

“I love you too. Does this mean we are done fighting?”

“Take me to bed, Director Danvers.”

“Oh, gladly.”

**

December 20th, 2018

Lena’s bag feels heavy on her shoulder as she gets off the plane. A whole nine days off, but she is scared out of her mind because she’s spending them in Midville. To meet Kara’s mother. Lena takes a deep breath and walks through the airport to find her beautiful girlfriend. This is going to be a long break.

“Lee!” Kara’s voice rings out among the din of the busy airport.

Lena turns in a circle until she spots Kara. Kara hurries to her and sweeps her up in a tight hug before kissing Lena deeply. It’s been three weeks since they had last seen each other. Lena takes a deep breath of Kara because she’s missed her so much.

“It's not too late. We can get on the next flight out of here and run away.”

“Don’t tempt me. No, I should actually meet your mother. Even if she probably hates me.” Lena pulls away and fits her fingers between Kara’s to walk towards the exit. It’s a small airport about an hour from Midvale and amazingly peaceful with no cameras in sight. Kara walks Lena to the car she’s borrowed from Eliza.

“Eliza doesn't hate you. She’s really glad you are coming.”

“Glad to tell me off for breaking her daughter’s heart?” Lena slouches in her seat and crosses her arms.

“No, Lee. She’s glad to meet the woman that makes her daughter happy.”

“You’re probably right. Still, I’m worried.”

“Come on, time to cheer you up with some tunes. Alex and the Arias women will be here in three days. I need you in the Christmas spirit by then.” “Aren’t you Jewish?”

“Yeah, but the Danvers’ aren’t, so I was introduced to the joys of it. I still follow some of the bigger traditions like lighting the menorah and making latkes. Even though I don’t really follow it for the rest of the year, it’s a way to connect to my parents over the holidays. But it’s already over this year. It was at the beginning of December.”

Lena reaches over and takes one of Kara’s hands. “That’s very sweet.”

Kara glances at her with a small smile before looking back to the road, after a moment she says, “I have a whole Christmas movie lineup that starts tonight. Be ready.”

“For you, I’ll do anything.” Lena kisses the back of Kara’s hand and settles back into the seat for the rest of the ride while Kara sings to the radio.

It’s a beautiful landscape that leads to the seaside home, and Lena squeezes Kara’s hand tighter as they get closer. By the time Kara can shake her hand free from Lena’s grip to put the car in park, she can feel the blood rush back into her fingers as a thousand pricking needles. Kara unbuckles and turns to face her girlfriend. Lena bites her lip nervously and stares at the door.

“Just be yourself.”

“Myself is the problem.”

“Was. But now, we have been through a lot and are different people than we were.”

Lena takes a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Kara grins and kisses Lena’s cheek before popping the trunk to get her bags. Lena opens the door and gets out. She takes a deep breath of the salty, fresh air and instantly starts to feel better. It definitely feels like a place to raise kids and call home. It feels safe. The door opens, and a blonde woman appears with a smile.

“I thought I heard a car door. Glad you made it back, Kara. Lena, it's nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Danvers.” Lena holds out a hand as she closes the door.

Eliza pushes it to the side and wraps Lena up in a hug. “Oh, please. Call me Eliza.”

Lena hesitates before wrapping her arms around the woman. She squeezes her eyes shut and let’s Kara’s mom hug her in a way that she hasn’t felt in a long time. Lena is fighting tears by the time Eliza releases her, but she doesn't say a word about Lena’s shining eyes. Eliza just cups Lena’s cheek briefly before turning to her daughter.

“All right, Kara, take those up to your room. I put the air mattress in there. Alex and Sam will be in the guest room, and I have the pull out in the den ready for Ruby”

Kara blushes scarlet. “Eliza—”

“Kara, I’m old. Not senial. Nor do I have any delusions about my daughters. I was your age once. At least I don’t have to worry about an unplanned pregnancy.” Eliza laughs and heads inside.

“See, she loves you already.” Kara says from behind Lena as they watch after the woman.

“Fine. You were right. But I’m still waiting for some sort of talk.”

Kara sighs and leads Lena inside.

**

Lena watches quietly from the doorway as Kara sifts through boxes of ornaments to decorate the tree Eliza has already purchased. Kara had been incredulous when she found out Lena had never decorated a tree before. The Luthor's home was always professionally done, and she didn't celebrate Christmas on her own. She never felt the need to. Kara has insisted that Lena help while they put on Christmas music and drink hot chocolate.

"Lena, dear. Would you mind carrying that tray for me."

Lena moves back into the kitchen to take the tray Eliza gestured too. It is laden with chocolate chips, marshmallows, marshmallow whip, candycanes, and whipped cream. "What is all this for?"

"The hot chocolate, of course. Kara loves adding so many things to hers that it becomes a meal."

Lena laughs because that is so much like Kara. She glances back through the doorway to the woman in question when a warm hand covers hers on the countertop.

"Listen, Kara didn't tell me everything that happened between you two. But she did say you both made mistakes. Whatever those were, I'm glad you two are working things out. She's happier than I've ever seen her. All she's talked about for the past two days is you," Eliza says softly, clearly not wanting to alert Kara to their conversation.

Lena takes a deep breath and smiles back at the older woman. "I'm glad too. Even if we had never worked things out,  Kara made me a better person. Made me want to be one. She showed me that I deserved love. And I would never have stopped loving her for that."

Eliza squeezes Lena's hand as Kara shouts for them to hurry up, and Jingle Bell Rock starts playing from the speakers. It isn't the harsh talking to she’s been expecting from the mother of the girl's whose heart she broke. It’s… nice. Lena isn't sure what to do with that or the warmth she still feels on her hand even though Eliza has left the room with the tray containing the cups of hot cocoa.

The evening blurs into a flurry of sparkling lights and shiny tinsel and holiday music. By the time they finish, Eliza pops some popcorn on the stovetop and Kara has picked out a holiday movie, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Kara insists Lena has to watch all the classic claymation movies. Kara and Lena cuddle together on the couch while Eliza takes a comfy recliner. She disappears about halfway through, and Lena is thankful for her giving the two of them some alone time. Lena burrows deeper into Kara’s side, and Kara tightens her grip on Lena’s thigh, basically in between Lena’s legs. Kara just chuckles at something in the movie and reaches for another handful of popcorn. Lena watches Kara watch the television in the soft glow of multicolored lights.

Lena could write a whole album about this woman. Well, she technically already did, but Lena could write another one. And another one. She could write a thousand more and still not feel like she’s captured the beauty of this moment. Lena admits defeat and decides instead to just rest her head on Kara’s shoulder. Soon Lena drifts off to sleep. She eventually is vaguely aware of Kara helping her to her feet and pulling her upstairs.

**

December 23rd, 2018

The kitchen is covered in about a dozen different types of cookies and holiday sweets. Lena sprinkles more powdered sugar on the marble slab to roll out the sugar cookie dough while Kara selects another shape to cut out. A finger darts out in front of Lena and swipes up some sugar.

“Hey!” Lena exclaims as she turns to face the culprit.

Kara wipes the sugar on Lena’s nose with a laugh. “You’ve got a little something right there.”

“Huh, wonder how that happened.” Lena reaches for a hand towel to wipe it off when Kara’s hand stops hers.

“No worries, I’ll get it,” Kara says as she leans in and kisses Lena’s nose.

Lena scrunches her nose up with a smile. “Did I get any anywhere else?”

“Hmm… Yup. There is some right here,” Kara kisses one cheek. “And right here,” she kisses Lena’s other cheek. “And… right… here.” Kara kisses Lena’s lips.

Lena deepens the kiss and pulls Kara closer. Kara’s hands cup Lena’s cheeks while Lena’s hands cup Kara’s ass. Kara’s tongue darts out between her lips to brush against Lena’s and Kara chuckles. Lena smiles back and gives a couple more soft pecks.

“I know you’re sweet usually, but the sugar is just an added bonus to kissing you.” Kara teases.

“Oh, come on!”

The exclamation breaks them apart. Kara looks over her shoulder to see Alex and Sam laden with baggage and standing in the doorway. Sam turns and laughs into Alex’s neck as Alex fumes and blocks Ruby’s view of the kitchen shenanigans. Lena lets go of Kara and goes to hug Sam and Ruby. Kara hangs her head before turning to her sister. Alex is holding back laughter by the time Kara gets to her.

“What’s so funny?”

“You have sugar handprints on your ass,” Alex tries to say low enough that Ruby can’t hear.

Lena does cover Ruby’s ears. “That’s because she has a sweet ass.”

“Not in front of my daughter,” Sam exclaims.

“Relax, I covered her ears.”

“Not well.” Ruby laughs.

Sam shoots Lena a glare, and Lena just laughs and kisses the top of Ruby’s head. It’s getting harder and harder to do with each passing week as the girl becomes just as willowy as her mother.

“I heard voices, are the girls here?” Eliza calls from the den that doubles as her office.

“Yeah, Mom!” Alex calls.

Eliza emerges from the other room and hugs her daughter before being introduced to her girlfriend and girlfriend’s daughter. Eliza shows Ruby where the den is while Alex and Sam take their bags up stairs.

“Well, that was embarrassing.”

“Please, no worse than when you were fucking me on the pool table. Or when I walked in on them topless in the living room.”

“You what?”

“Oh, yeah. They planned a date night, sent Ruby to a sleepover, but forgot to tell me. I had spent thirty-six hours in the studio and went home to shower and sleep. Unfortunately, it was after dinner and wine but luckily before the pants had come off.”

Kara laughs and goes back to cutting out cookies. “At east for us we were in my apartment behind a locked door.”

“Very true. Come on, let’s get these cookies in the oven so that we can all decorate.”

**

December 24th, 2018

Christmas Eve brought about a party in the Midvale town square. Lights were strung up and local lenders had booths. A mix of barrel drums and outdoor electric heaters kept the temperature bearable for folks to laugh and play carnival games. Hot drinks flow freely with shots of alcohol available for purchase for the adults. Lena questions the fact that no one seemed to be ID’ing anyone, but Kara just explains that the town was so small that if you’re underage and wanted alcohol, you have to go at least two towns away to use a fake.

Ruby excitedly jumps from game to game, flitting back once in awhile to get cash from her mother for food or to introduce a new friend. Eliza is busy running a booth so it leaves the four women on a double date, sitting at a picnic table sharing stories and snacks.

“Yup, and then she left me with this poor clingy girl who just wanted to dance with her favorite star.” Sam laughs.

“Okay, but she was insane. You left out the part that she followed us to three different clubs, jumped a VIP rope, was tackled and thrown out of the first, dumped a drink on another girl for asking for my autograph, and told me she would lick my feet. That girl was off her rocker.”

“And you climbed out a bathroom window and only texted me twenty mintes later once you were safely home.”

Alex and Kara laugh at Sam’s eye roll as they continue to exchange story about one another. They also take turns getting drinks to warm themselves, alcohol spreading through their bloodstreams. Eventually, Alex and Sam drift off to join the festivities, and Kara sits sideways to wrap her arms around Lena.

“Hey,” Kara whispers close to Lena’s ear.

“Yeah?”

“So since we are all here…”

“Yes…”

“That means no one is at the house.”

“I like where this is going…”

“Have you ever done it on an air mattress?”

“I’ll try anything once. Come on.” Lena excitedly grabs Kara’s hand and pulls her to her feet.

They try not to run back to the house, but Lena is way too excited. It’s been weeks since she and Kara had been intimate. With Eliza just down the hall, Lena hasn’t been willing to risk it. They manage to make it all the way to Kara’s room before removing clothing and tumbling onto the air mattress wedged between the twin beds. The alcohol makes everything blurry and warm, and before Lena knows it, she is riding three of Kara’s fingers as Kara lays under her. The orgasm that takes her is slow and sure, but then a wave hits her and Lena sits down hard and chokes back a moan. Lena faintly registers a soft pop and a hiss.

“Oh, shit.”

“What?” Lena asks lazily.

“Ah… I think we popped the mattress.”

Lena realizes then that Kara’s hips are sinking as Kara’s head gets closer to Lena’s. Lena rolls off of Kara with a laugh, and the hiss seems to get louder as she lays down beside Kara on a rapidly deflating bed. Kara starts laughing with Lena, and they stop suddenly when they hear the front door and muffled voices from downstairs.

“Come on, we can sleep on the twin beds.” Kara whispers.

“Beds?” Lena whispers back.

“Or we can squeeze onto mine.”

“That sounds better. Plus then I can fuck you in your childhood bed.”

“Later, babe. We have a full house again.”

Lena pouts while Kara struggles to get out of the bed and throw Lena a shirt and shorts. It takes a few minutes, but they finally settle in the narrow bed with Kara spooning Lena tightly. Kara glances at the digital alarm clock that used to wake her up every morning. 12:01.

"Merry Christmas, Lee."

"Merry Christmas, Kar."

**

December 25th, 2018

Kara is woken by a ball of cloth thrown in her face. “What the— Alex!”

“You two snuck off last night. Here’s your pajamas.” Alex stands in front of the bed with her Arms crossed. “And now I know why. How did the mattress get deflated?” Alex raises an eyebrow, pointedly.

“Oh, sweet. Eliza went with elf pajamas this year. Did she get Ms. Claus for herself?” Kara accuses her sister’s accusatory looks.

Alex rolls her eyes. “Just be glad that I came up and not Mom. Be downstairs in five, or we are starting without you.” She turns on her heel a little dramatically and exits.

“I’m sorry, what did I miss here?” Lena wipes the sleep from her eyes and Kara kisses her lips before climbing out of bed over top of her girlfriend.

Kara strips off her sleeping shirt and pulls on a long sleeve button-up that looks very elf like. “Every year, Eliza and Jerimiah would give us pajamas to wear on Christmas Eve. Eliza still keeps up the tradition. I just assumed she wasn’t doing this year with all and the Arias’.” Kara pulls up the long pants that are red and green to match the shirt. “Here, there is a pair for you too. I wondered why she asked for your clothes size.”

Lena sits up much slower, glancing at the clock which reveals that it is still before eight. Lena wipes at her eyes again before standing and taking the clothing from her much too peppy girlfriend.

“You are lucky I love you,” Lena grumbles as she begins to pull off her shirt and put on the Christmas colored clothing.

“I count my blessings every day.”

“You are too cheesy sometimes.”

“You want me to stop?”

“Never.”

They make it downstairs before the five minute deadline and settle onto the couch with hot cocoa, despite Alex’s glare and Sam’s suppressed laughter. True to Kara’s word, all the women are wearing elf pajamas, and Eliza is wearing a set in red with a white apron printed on the front, very Mrs. Claus. Eliza hands Ruby her first present, despite Sam’s protests that it isn’t necessary, and then Ruby takes turns handing out gifts from youngest to oldest.

Colorful wrapping paper soon litters the floor as gift after gift is opened. Most are from Eliza to Ruby. The other women brought gifts for each other too, adding to the paper carnage.

“Alright, my turn.” Lena says and gets up. Instead of grabbing one from under the tree, Lena goes to the front door. “What are you doing babe?” Kara asks.

“I was warned you are a notorious present peeker.” Lena says, as if that explains everything.

“Am Not!”

“Are too!” Alex yells back.

“Am Not!”

“Are too!”

“Not!”

“Too!”

“Not!”

“Not!” Alex repeats.

“Too!” Kara exclaims, before groaning and slapping a hand to her forehead.

“Hah!” Alex sticks out her tongue at her sister.

“If we are done, your present should be here right about…” a knocking on the door, “Now.” Lena opens it to a warmly dressed personal currier with a large box. She balances it awkwardly as it seems to shift, and Lena pulls out a wad cash to generously tip the man working on Christmas. Lena walks awkwardly back towards the couch and carefully sets it down.

“What—” Kara begins to ask as the box shifts. Kara notices the holes in the said of the gift wrapped box and looks at Lena excitedly.

“Go on. Open it,” Lena urges.

Kara rips into the paper and hurriedly unfolds the top. A soft excited yip accompanies a shaking of the large box. Kara squeals and reaches inside, pulling out a white, wiggling, little fur ball. Everyone gasps and begins cooing about how pretty he is. Kara turns him to face the room revealing the black patch of fur stretching over one brown eye. The other was a bright blue that matched his new owner’s.

“What’s his name?” Kara asks.

“Hold on, I have the paperwork in my purse.” Lena grabs the envelope and hands it over the Kara who tries to open it and hold on to the squirming fluff ball at the same time.

When she manages to get the papers out, Kara scans them quickly. “It says Krypto.”

“Actually I think it’s supposed to be Klepto. The shelter said he kept stealing all the toys and treats and hiding them under his bed. It was an issue in the home his litter was born in, and because of his splotch no one wanted to buy him. So the shelter named him Klepto.”

Kara gasps and covers the puppies ears. “How could they do such a thing to such a beautiful creature.”

“Well, people buying purebred American White Shepherds usually do it for a show dog. The discolored fur wouldn’t look good. It’s technically a genetic mutation.”

“What a terrible thing. But don’t worry, you will be loved. And no more of this Klepto business. It’s Krypto now. Like the dog in the comics.”

“Whatever you want, babe. He’s yours now.”

Kara squeals again and lets the dog lick her face. Lena just watches her girlfriend for a few minutes before Ruby whispers in her ear. Kara gasps and hands Ruby the puppy as she sprints towards the back of the house.

“Where is she going?” Lena asks.

“To get your present.” Ruby says matter of factly.

“What do you mean? She already gave me the leather bound notebook and fountain pen.”

“You’ll see.” Ruby returns to playing with the puppy.

“Merry Christmas, Lee. I guess great minds think alike.” Kara arrives in the room room holding her own fur ball, this time black. Two little ears peek up above the Christmas bow tied to its neck. The kitten turns to the room and opens it’s green eyes, the pitch black fur only interrupted by a white streak over one eye. “One of the women in town had a litter and was going to give them all to the shelter if no one would take them, and you said you needed at least one cat.”

It’s Lena’s turn to get excited and she hops up to take the kitten. “What’s its name?” Lena lifts the cat above her head to check it’s rear end.

“I was Thinking Harry, like Harry Potter. You know, because of the ‘scar’ above his eye.”

“Hate to break it to you, but this little guy is a girl.” Lena cuddles the kitten back to her chest after being sure.

“Harriet Potter?” Kara tries again.

“Ah, no.” Lena sits back on the couch and scratches behind the kittens ears to begin the purring.

“I’ve been calling her Streaky.” Ruby chimes in, while trying to contain the squirming pup.

“You have?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, they kept her in the den with me, and Eliza made me promise not to tell. I had to call her something. She has a white streak on her head. Plus, she’s very fast, and ‘blur’ didn’t have the same ring to it.”

“She’s really that fast?” Kara asks and takes the puppy from Ruby to try and let the puppy sniff the kitten.

The kitten stiffens in Lena’s arms as the sniffing nose gets closer. Then, before Lena can blink, the kitten is gone from her arms, and Krypto is scrambling to chase her. Lena and Kara look at each other before scrambling after the animals, Kara basically vaulting over the coffee table. Laughter erupts behind the couple as they chase the animals into the hallway and then into the kitchen. Lena worries about the chemistry of the two and hopes this won’t end poorly.

By the time they get to the kitchen, Krypto is pinned on his back while Streaky bite s playfully at his ear. Krypto’s growl is less than impressive as he tries to escape while also trying to bite Streaky’s tail.

“Look, they are friends already.” Kara grins.

“And adorable. Look at them, complete opposites. Black and white, dog and cat. He and she. Yin and Yang. So adorable.” Lena tries to catch her breath while still laughing. They leave the animals to continue their play.

Back in the living room, clean up is happening before they finish cooking brunch together. Ruby has disappeared to set up her new Nintendo Switch in the den. Kara puts A Christmas Story on the television in the living room. It’s an all day marathon, Lena has learned, and Kara intends to watch it at least twice.

Lena just goes along with all the Danvers family traditions, including making these fried dough things rolled in cinnamon and sugar. Kara informs Lena that they dubbed them Elephant balls as Lena takes a big bite. Lena almost chokes as a laugh escapes.

“They are what?”

“Well, they taste like the elephant ears you get at the fair. But in ball form. Hence elephant balls.”

“Well despite the name, they are delicious.” Lena grabs a second one.

After a brunch to rival all brunches, Kara pulls out a winter themed puzzle that they work on while the movie plays in the background. When that’s finished, Alex pulls out Clue. Then Sam drags Ruby and her new gaming system back into the living room to share and play some of her new games.

It’s the best Christmas Lena has ever had. It was the best holiday Lena has ever had. They didn’t do anything but spend time with each other. For dinner, they order Chinese food from the only Chinese restaurant in Midvale. Lena does coax Kara into actual clothes to take a cute picture sitting in front of the tree. Each of them hold their gifted animals and face Alex who is taking the picture. Then, while the animals face forward, the couple kisses. Alex is a fantastic photographer, and Lena tells her so when she gets her phone back to judge the image. Lena sends it to Kara so they can post it on their respective Instagram accounts.

Sometimes, your opposite can make you whole. Lena types out. Kara kisses her when she sees it.

Not as good with words as my girlfriend so… ditto.

Lena laughs and kisses Kara back. Then they both turn off their phones to rejoin their family for the rest of the evening. Later that night, Lena convinces Kara to let Lena return the favor. Kara cumming quietly while biting her own forearm and Lena’s tongue moving between her legs.

“Best. Christmas. Ever,” Kara whispers as Lena lays on top of her.

“Ditto,” Lena sighs out.

**

December 30th, 2018

Kara follows Lena from Midvale to Metropolis to support her as she sings for the Glenmorgan Square New Years Eve Party. It is blistering cold and windy as Kara drinks spiked, hot apple cider to try and stay warm. Even the VIP section is crowded as Kara waits for her girlfriend to be introduced. The VIP section is to the side of the stage on a raised platform so Kara will be able to see the performance and the crowd. Alex steps up and joustles her from one side, Sam shouldering in on the other as they try to share body heat. They have left Ruby with Eliza and the new animal family members and made the drive into the city. Lena has rented a suite of rooms in a nearby hotel for the four of them to stay in.

Lena’s nervous. She’s seen Kara a couple of times on tour, but this is the first time she’ll be singing in front of her. She’s told Kara as much, and Kara has kissed her deeply enough to make her blush in front of the stage hands. Now Kara is waiting as the minutes tick closer to midnight. Lena has a three song set that goes straight into the ten second countdown for the final stretch of the ball drop.

A hiss sounds softly over the crowd as smoke fills the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you… Lena Luthor!” An announcer yells over the crowd before the opening notes play.

Take your clothes and rip 'em, rip 'em off

Call these hoes and tip 'em, tip 'em off

Lena rises up from below the center stage to the cheers of thousands. She’s in full on Lena Luthor mode, and Kara is enraptured.

You can tell them you are mine

I'm sick of, sick of games

No more time, you lit the, lit the flame, yeah

We live in an age where everything is staged

Where all we do is fake our feelings

I've been scared to put myself so out there

Time is running out, yeah

Need to let you know that

Last night I woke the fuck up

I realized I need you here, as desperate as that sounds, yeah-eh

Last night I woke the fuck up

I realized I need you here, as desperate as that sounds, yeah-eh

Take these walls and rip 'em, rip 'em down

Take my (uh) and snip 'em, snip 'em now

I will tell them I am yours and very, very proud

I am forced to give in, give in now cause

Kara watches and sips her drink as her sister and Sam flirt with each other and share a night free of responsibilities. Kara has heard all of Lena’s music at this point, but watching her perform has made her more and more sure that they are heading down the right path this time. Kara is rubbing shoulders, literally, with famous people, but all she has eyes for is Lena as she begins her second song.

I was just an only child of the universe

And then I found you

And then I found you

You are the sun and I am just the planets

Spinning around you

Spinning around you

You were too good to be true

Gold plated

But what's inside you

But what's inside you

I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you

But not as much as I do

As much as I do, yeah

'Cause you're the last of a dying breed

Write our names in the wet concrete

I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me

I'm here in search of your glory

There's been a million before me

That ultra-kind of love

You never walk away from

You're just the last of the real ones

You're just the last of the real ones

Kara laughs to herself. Lena told her this song was about Power Girl. It was Lena accepting that Power Girl was a part of Kara, but also sharing how much she needed Kara even though the city needed her too. It was sweet, and heart breaking. But Lena told Kara it was a good song. One that helped her process her feelings.

I'm here at the beginning of the end

Oh, the end of infinity with you

I'm here at the beginning of the end

Oh, the end of infinity with you

I'm done with having dreams

The thing that I believe

Oh, you drain all the fear from me

I'm done with having dreams

The thing that I believe

You drain the fear from me

Almost everyone around Kara is now fully focused on the performance. The crowd below is singing along, and it’s amazing. Just over four minutes are left until the new year as Lena begins her final song.

Out of the seven billion people in this world, there's only you.

Almost a million words that I could say, but none of them will do.

So many years that I have lived, but it feels like I've just begun.

Out of the seven billion people, baby, you're the only one.

I've been too many places. I've seen too many faces.

I wrote too many pages; never found a love like you. (Love like you)

I don't know how to say it. It's been more than amazing.

My whole life, I've been waiting; never found a love like you. (Love like you)

Sleep, dream, you, repeat. Live, die next to me.

Sleep, dream, you, repeat. Sleep, dream.

Out of the seven billion people in this world, there's only you.

Almost a million words that I could say, but none of them will do.

So many years that I have lived, but it feels like I've just begun.

Out of the seven billion people, baby, you're the only one.

You were unexpected, when our lips connected.

I was resurrected; never found a love like you. (love like you)

Don't care where I'm headed when the world is ending.

'cause you are my heaven; never found a love like you. (Love like you)

Sleep, dream, you, repeat. Live, die next to me.

Sleep, dream, you, repeat. Sleep, dream.

Out of the seven billion people in this world, there's only you.

Almost a million words that I could say, but none of them will do.

So many years that I have lived, but it feels like I've just begun.

Out of the seven billion people, baby, you're the only one.

Surrounded by numbers.

(Numbers, numbers, numbers)

You're the only one.

(Numbers, numbers, numbers, numbers)

You're the only one

You brought me back to life.

You did the unthinkable.

Yeah, you are my miracle.

Out of the seven billion people in this world, there's only you.

Almost a million words that I could say, but none of them will do.

So many years that I have lived, but it feels like I've just begun.

Out of the seven billion people, baby, you're the only one.

Surrounded by numbers.

(Numbers, numbers, numbers)

You're the only one.

(Numbers, numbers, numbers, numbers)

You're the only one.

Surrounded by numbers.

(Numbers, numbers, numbers)

You're the only one.

(Numbers, numbers, numbers, numbers)

You're the only one.

On one of the big screens behind Lena, just under the Giant Ball slowly dropping it’s way to the new year. Just a few inches are left as the number ten flashes on the screen and switches to a nine. Lena calls out the numbers as the crowd joins.

“Here, hold my drink.” Kara calls to her sister, not waiting for a response before shoving it in her hand.

Alex sputters a protest as Kara grips the railing and vaults over it. “Hey!” her sister calls after her, but Kara sticks the landing eight feet down and strides across the stage.

“Three, Two, One!” Lena calls into the microphone.

Kara sweeps Lena into her arms as the confetti cannons explode and dips her into a kiss. The confetti swirls around them and leaves them in their own little world. Kara pulls Lena back up and kisses her again. Lena pulls confetti from her girlfriend’s hair, even though it’s pointless.

“Did you just jump onto stage to kiss me?”

“I had to kiss my girlfriend at midnight.”

“Just had to, huh?”

“I had to start the year off right. I have a feeling that it’s going to be a good one. “

“Me too.”

They kiss again before the calls of Sam and Alex pull them apart. “Ready to party?” Lena asks.

“Ready to babysit our friends? Because I’m pretty sure Alex is already drunk.”

Alex is. Lena and Kara spend the rest of the night dancing at a party while keeping one eye on Sam and Alex. Around three, they decide to lead the two back to the hotel. Alex and Sam have been slumped together in a booth saying some not so PG things to each other. Not that either are in a state to follow through on those things. Once both are laying on their hotel bed, Lena goes to get some water for both of them in the morning along with some aspirin to leave on the bedside tables.

Kara manages to take off their shoes and outer layers before Alex throws her arms around Sam and completely passing out. Sam has already beaten her to it. Lena comes back in to set the glasses and aspirin down.

“One more drink before bed?” Kara asks.

“No. No I don’t think so.”

“Do you want something else?”

“Yeah. I think I do. Kara, I want kids.”

Kara gasps, not expecting that revelation. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Kara kisses Lena then, and Lena begins to push Kara back out the door towards their own room. They start tearing off clothing and tripping to get there faster. Kara chuckles a couple of times.

“Sorry, did you mean you want kids right now? If so, it’s about to be pretty disappointing. Also, I think I should maybe teach you about the human reproductive system.”

Lena laughs too. “No, not right now. Later you can give me a refresher course, but right now, how about we get some practice in?”

“I like practice.”

“Then shut up and fuck me.”

“My pleasure. And yours.” Kara adds cheekily before pulling Lena into the room and shutting the door.

[agentpink-writes]

WIP Intro: Ethereal

NOTE: This is going to be the base for my WIP, Ethereal, so it’s not going to have as much detail as I want it to have at the moment (I’m going to add more onto it later). Just want to clarify that. Once I add more details/finish it (mostly), I’ll get rid of this little note at the beginning. 

ALSO there is A LOT of worldbuilding detail, so if it gets confusing, it’s mainly because this is set over a five-part series, so it definitely explained a lot later on. However, I tried to be as clear as possible, so hopefully its at least mostly readable. I won’t be addressing ALL the worldbuilding facts, however, so some parts are going to be purposefully unclear.

Genre: (Low) Science Fiction/Fantasy or just Science Fantasy, if you want to get technical.

Status: 1st Draft (of Book 1 of the Series)

Date Created: March 16th, 2017

Progress: 14,891 words

Trigger Warnings: Cannibalism (yeah its THAT kind of story), drug mentions, violence/killing

Background:

Hundreds of years passed since the Earth’s self-destruction. Humanity explored the seemingly infinite Universe, with no end in sight. In its conquests, humanity exterminated most alien life or drove them further into the cosmos, leaving only a few to roam in isolation. Not a single planet found by humanity was left untouched. Resources were plentiful, and many were happy. Life was good.

However, due to the increase of life expectancy and the decrease in the pregnancy term, over-population became a quickly growing issue. Resources dwindled, food became scarce, and there were only more and more mouths to feed as the years past.

Then, the White Ashes, a meat-processing corporation, rose to power. After a civil war amidst the old Governments, the White Ashes became the new, universal government to rule over nearly all of humanity. As its first, official rule, it decreed that cannibalism was now a legal and enforced practice, and would replace at least seventy percent of the market in terms of food supply. Once a person became 85 years old (the average was 150), they would be sent to the Slaughterhouse to be killed and harvested for meat. 

Decades past and the population became stabilized, helped by the cannibalism law. Eventually, humanity became so reliant on cannibalism, food from animals and plants became scarce, and were considered a delicacy in many parts of the Universe. The “70 percent rule” initially decried had now reached 92 percent.

Currently, the White Ashes still hold control over nearly all aspects of government and food supply. Although there has been resistance, they still are very much in power, mainly due to their complex, deeply woven system of food distribution that, if one were to overthrow this government, one might upset the entire food supply for nearly all of humanity. Yet, despite this, it seems as if the White Ashes are losing their grip over their years, and they will stop at nothing to prevent this (particularly the brother to their leader, Tobias Ash...)

Synopsis (First Book):

Nion is another planet that hosts one of many White Ashes headquarters across the Universe. Crime and corruption run rampant, due to mismanagement and lack of real police or military force. 

To make it in this harsh place, an assassin under the alias the Owl is constantly hired to kill people like low-level White Ash politicians and other crime bosses in order to make money. They cover their identity by wearing a full-white disguise, and a mask reminiscent of the simple face of a snow white owl. 

After being hired to kill another target, the Owl ends up coming in contact with men affiliated with a powerful drug cartel. The men reveal their intentions and, inevitably, lead the Owl to meet one of their sub-leaders, Engel, for a job. 

Their target? A new and upcoming corporation called Viaplex, which deals with the illegal construction and maintenance of war machines and robots. The drug cartel plans to take down Viaplex as an act of revenge, as the White Ashes had previously attacked them for their illegal drug trade yet they also fund and endorse illegal corporations like Viaplex. 

Stuck in a complex and bitter conflict, the Owl is hired to take out the mysterious head of Viaplex for a large sum of money, hoping to use the funds to move of Nion. Things get more complicated when the Viaplex head turns out to be someone the Owl knows, and it doesn’t help that this person thinks the Owl is dead.

Main Characters: 

“The Owl” | 21 Years Old | Hitman/Assassin

The Owl’s true name, is in fact, Kova. She assumes the full-body identity in order to hide her gender, which helps since she tries to hide her overall identity as much as possible.

Kova is the main protagonist of the story. She is actually the result of an experiment, which mixed the DNA of humans and that of the extraterrestrial/fantastical creatures known only as Spirits to create her and several others like her into “Novas”. The experiment was driven by the princely figure Tobias Ash, younger brother to the leader of the White Ashes. Tobias Ash, disappointed in the lost opportunity, dumped the remaining few hundred in a school environment, where they learned the techniques and fighting skills to be soldiers for the White Ashes. 

One of the special benefits, however, that resulted from the experiment were an extra pair of black tentacles that came from the back, and could be extended and meld with the body. Depending on the Nova, one could actually change the properties of them, like hardening them until their sharper than blades.  

Kova was also one of the attendees at this military school, however, she lost her memories up to a point where she had a fight with another Nova she befriended, Arandis. All she knows is that, between her absent memories, the entire military school was destroyed and nearly all the Novas were eradicated. She then took the skills she learned, and turned it to her benefit, by doing the only thing she knew possible: being a hitman. 

Although kind, in a sense, her years of memory loss and training have hardened her into a serious, somewhat enigmatic individual. She also has some anger issues and very loose morals, along with a love for darker humor. She’s also isolated both physically and mentally, which is in part due to her complicated past with being in a temporary ‘family’ which also ended in tragedy. However, as the story progresses, she warms up, and its shown that she isn’t nearly as cruel or hateful or even as bitter as she thinks herself to be (in fact, she turns out to be more understanding).

Engel | 27 Years Old | Sub-Leader in the (Icetite) Drug Trade

A majorly enigmatic/mysterious person, he is one who is willing to stay within the law up to a certain extent. He has a penchant for rich/superficial fashions, as he likes to adorn himself in casual business suits and jewelry. However, the most identifiable feature on him is the disturbing amount of tiny, blue diamond shaped crystals that seem to be embedded on one side of his face (there’s exactly 23 of them). These crystals are actually the source of the drug Icetite, which is broken down into a dust-like substance or turned into a liquid to be snorted or injected. 

Engel, in this case, has been using his own drug supply for over seven to nine years. One of the major effects it has, like its other regulars, is its attack/suppression of the limbic system in the brain, which controls emotions. As a result, Engel is a seemingly blank, morose, yet rather serious individual with no seemingly greater emotion then revenge. 

After Engel contracts Kova for help, they begin to interact, which leads to some nasty conflicts due to both of their somewhat negative personalities. However, as with Kova, the story progresses with both of them beginning to see the similarities in one another, and Engel even showing that he, in fact, is not actually as unemotional as he acts, and might be even more emotional due to his suppressed feelings over the years...

Dkatos | 32 Years Old | (Temporary) Bodyguard for Viaplex Head

Dkatos is another non-human that is the opposite of both Kova and Engel. He is an outgoing, overly ‘friendly’, and sarcastic guy who seems to be covering up his own dark secrets. Despite his seemingly flirtatious, as well as open behavior, he has also proven himself to be a dangerous foe. 

He is actually a creature called an Underbiter. Underbiters are the result of years and years of cannibalism and were created due to a mutation in a certain ancestry of humans. These creatures, which grew to be entirely separate from humans (although their biological makeup is similar) can shift their mouth at will so they grow rows of sharp teeth (similar to a tiger, but proportionate to their face). Underbiters also have more agility and heightened sense, which is intended to help catch their prey: humans. In fact, unlike humans, they can ONLY eat humans, which wouldn’t be a problem if it weren’t for the fact that Underbiter meat is poisonous to humans, so the White Ashes can’t recycle their bodies. They are commonly placed in camps/colonies, where they are usually used for labor and other extraneous jobs. 

Dkatos’ current job is working as a head bodyguard for the head of the Viaplex company. He works mainly so he can get a regular diet of meat, although it seems he does have some ulterior goals as well.

Kova’s (aka the Owl’s) first encounter with Viaplex involved Dkatos, who she ended up getting into a fight with. There, she notices the fact that Dkatos might not only be an Underbiter but also some greater, as his level of strength is greater than anyone she had ever seen. However, it isn’t until later until she discovers who he is, where he’s from, and how his origins, along with others like him, may actually be a key into what becomes a huge problem later on...

Other Characters (I’ll edit/add later):

Arandis | 21 Years Old | ???

Another Nova Kova befriended. Her current status is unknown, but her role is very important.

Tobias Ash | 38 Years Old | Sub-Leader of the White Ashes

A cruel and power-hungry man set on finding the best way to make him the most powerful being in the Universe. He vehemently hates his brother Ottoron Ash, the leader, and his insecurities are primarily based on him. Although violent, he is capable, adaptive, and smart, and has a long-lasting will like no other.

He goes under the pseudonym “Carnem”, as he seems to have changed his body and face. 

Mei | 42 Years Old | Worked/Taught at the Nova School

A somewhat minor, yet important character. She is revealed to be a Galaxy Spirit, which is related to the other Spirits but isn’t nearly on the same level on them and its suggested that Galaxies are also Novas, in a way (experiments made long ago). She doesn’t play a huge role in the first book, but her existence, along with Galaxy Spirits and other Spirits become important later on.

Links:

None.

Other: 

None.

[femnet]

Next year, I want to leave the Caribbean country where I am living to enroll in a university in the United Kingdom. I want to start my life as an adult, and kick off my future in the best direction. Sounds nice, doesn’t it? Except I can’t get there by just snapping my fingers.

I turned eighteen years old a couple of months ago, so I am now legally entitled to my own actions. Well, let’s make the best out of that.

As a twelfth grade student, mature and conscious that my path will be my own, I have jotted down a list of new school-year resolutions that will help me reaching my goals by next September. 

1- Study, study, study!

Disclaimer: I am allergic to extremes. This is not about locking oneself in a dusty monastery and bury under a mountain of books. Balance is the key.

Yes, this is the tea. I was used to hearing people say that I should “enjoy my time as a youngster, you’ll have time for working later.” However, ladies and gents, here is the truth *drums roll* PROCRASTINATING ISN’T ENJOYING. How are you going to secure yourself a bright future if you don’t build the basis for one as early as possible? 

One of my friends, who studies psychology and philosophy, surprised me by saying that you have until the age of twenty-two to create proactive habits. Later, it’s harder (but not impossible!) to develop new neural connections, so teenagers should give their best at learning.

Also, who said that scrolling down our Instagram feed is better for our health than studying? Honestly, if we make the latter become fun, we will be able to harvest much sweeter fruits.

2- Collect money

Not talking about Monopoly bills nor videogame coins: get a job! Even the little ones are worth it. Why? 

First of all, we’ll have to have a job at some point. The earlier we learn about the professional world (think taxes system, work relationships, money handling), the easier it will be to grow in our niche after studies. 

Secondly, what college student is happy to be broke? *Buzzer* NonE! (Hint → that’s the right answer.) 

Earning cash (and not spending it on clothes or candies) before living on our own allows us to build a soft reserve that will cushion our needs later! The money I am making as a journalist and translator will go towards clothes and food when I move to the UK. It’ll be something less to worry about once I’m far from my family! 

3- Eat culture: educate myself

This goes hand in hand with the first resolution, except we’re not talking about actual subject studies.

I spent this summer surrounded by only adults. What happened? Big conversations happened! The belief that teenagers have today of handling serious dialogues is true to a certain extent. We like to be very idealist, and would love to make the world a better place, but tend to be only one-sighted. Most adults who have been around for longer than we have take another approach to everyday news. Once in the grown-ups’ world, it will be crucial to keep update on the actuality and explore a palette of perspectives and knowledge. It is better to know something about everything rather than everything about something (and then be the ignorant of the group when our favorite topic is dropped). 

4- Get started on the diet TODAY

Disclaimer: I am not necessarily talking of a diet to lose weight. Think healthy diet, or student diet (best quality-quantity-price relationship). Also, the diet is an example. Think about all the things that you should do today, but always find an excuse not to.

*Underlines, highlights, circles the last word of the subtitle.* 

“Yes, I’ll get started on the diet tomorrow,” she said, every day, for the past two years.

Long story short, tomorrow never arrives, every day is today, so let’s get started right now and be done with the wistful sighing.

I have adopted a gluten and sugar-free nutrition since some months now. While it was hard to say no to pasta, pizza and chocolate at first (the Italian in me was tortured), I found out after a couple of weeks that I didn’t even feel the yearning for those products. It’s all about getting used to a certain habit, and keeping a strong mind about the decision in the first days.

5- Get up from that chair and move

Most students’ big problem: we stay sat for too long. 

Among other ultra-valid reasons that should encourage us to move more, let’s talk about the relationship of physical activity and studying. It has been demonstrated that movement helps the blood--which carries oxygen and nutrients--reaching the brain much more easily. I made my own little experience to prove this.

Using Khan Academy, I passed two SAT exams within a week. I made sure to go to bed at the same time the day before, and to eat the same breakfast in the morning, so the conditions would be very similar. I passed the first exam exactly as if it were a real one, respecting the times of pause and not getting up from my chair between sections. Without studying any more, I passed the second exam a few days later, except I got up and walked a bit between each sections. Not only did I feel much more concentrated during the second exam than the first one, but I also improved my results by 60 points!

6- Yoga is a daily thing

Meditation, respiration, balance… Yoga combines all of these and thus joins sport and relaxation for both the body and the mind. It helps regulating the flow of hormones, the blood circulation, the digestive system, etc. I am not inventing anything.

Introducing yoga in my daily schedule has been a helpful step towards becoming more of an adult. I know that I will be able to cope with new steps and stresses because I have my own self by my side. Quite the change from the self-deprecative marathons so popular among teens.

7- Stand my ground, but accept genuine critics and advice

As a child, I used to get rebuffed a lot by my parents and brother, and I have grown up convinced that whatever I said was silly and others were always more right. I became taciturn, and repressed my own thinking a lot. Now, I have understood (thanks to some time spent with different people) that I am more than capable of saying smart stuff too! I am conscious that what I say is valid and that my opinion has to be respected, so I do not have to change my mind and adjust to others. When I don’t agree, I say it. When I want something, and feel like I deserve it, I claim it. And this is just right. 

However, I make sure not to cross the border: I accept critics and advice when they are helpful. I make sure to complete the information I get, compare it with other opinions. We have to remember that some people know more than us about certain things, and this is just right too.

8- Pick up my blogs from the ashes and build a temple from the rubble

You can tell that I love drama. This point for me is about blogs, but consider hobbies in general.

Because a healthy person has an open mind, having different occupations is strongly advised--most of all if those occupations help us polishing our values and qualities.

What I mean from “picking up my blogs from the ashes” is that I need to start working on them again, counting it as one more necessary periodical activity. I am too quickly excited by ideas, and then burn the eagerness too soon. This aspect of personality is not a great asset for someone who wants to study marketing and communication during four years. 

By “build a temple from the rubble,” I mean that I have to make something useful out of what I have created. Not only will blogs look nicely on my curriculum and personal statement, but they could be a way to earn some exposure and a little money. Making the most of what we have is the first step towards success.

In case you’d like to see what my blogs are about, here are the links: x   x

9- Take care of my appearance

Taking care of one’s appearance isn’t only a way to demonstrate people around us that we value them and consider them worthy of seeing the best of us, it is also a self-compliment that leads to a healthy relationship with ourselves. Taking the time for facial masks or choosing clean outfits will do as much for our outside than our inside. We are our own best friend, let’s treat us accordingly.

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

Witches of LA, Chapter 2: I hope you like exposition and pro wrestling jokes because that’s all we’ve got here

[Seelie of Kurain Chapter Masterlist] [ao3] 

[Witches Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

“And where exactly did you say we’re going?”

“It’s called Nine-Tails Vale! Jinxie – you remember her from New Years? – works there and invited us up for a yokai festival today!”

“A yokai ff – is it too late to get off the train and go home?”

-

Nine-Tails Vale sits in the hills at the base of the mountains of Kurain, far enough away that there’s a chance that they can have as normal a day as anyone at a yokai festival could, but close enough that the hills around the valley still might be faery mounds. Like most days at the WAA, anything goes, and Apollo has to live with it. And maybe he’ll die with it one of these days, sooner rather than later.

Trucy keeps trying again to explain to Apollo the storyline of the local wrestling scene, which she and Jinxie are avid fans of, on their walk over from the train station.

“It’s like a soap opera combined with a fantasy story, but also with grown men hitting each other with chairs,” she says, which is definitely a pitch that would appeal to certain people who aren’t Apollo. “They’ve got their thing that’s kinda like Court, or if there were two Courts who hated each other, and they battle it out in the ring like Daddy says some of the fae do within our legal system. Because the wrestlers are all masked and they’re the proxies for these powerful spirits who possess them whenever they’re wearing the mask. Like selkie skins but if the seal was separate and you were being controlled by it.”

“Uh huh,” Apollo says, surveying the main lane they’ve come up along. The dirt path, lined with a few scattered cobblestones, is overladen with little wheeled carts and pop-up stands selling little charms and trinkets and decorated with leering faces of yokai. Overwhelmed and shoved aside by the merchandise are older buildings bearing signs with both English and Japanese writing and weathered stone statues that have little offerings and candles scattered about their bases. “I wouldn’t feel like being possessed by a seal is very useful. What am I going to do, flop around a lot?”

“There’s always slapping,” Trucy says. “But I’m saying it’s like that. You put on the skin and you turn into it, wear the mask and bam.”

“Uh huh.”

“So when the wrestlers lose, they can have their masks stripped off, which is the ultimate disgrace because they lose both their power and the world and their enemies know their face and name and can claim them.” Trucy stops and leans over a table of paper tags marked all with a paw print and otherwise with a variety of characters and symbols. “And anyway it never got real big until the Amazing Nine-Tails – he’s one of the wrestlers obviously – started being active outside of the ring. And that’s a real no-go to use your powers like that, but he started getting attention, and the Vale started getting attention, and then this yokai craze kinda started up and now there’s lots of tourists from way out of the area watching the matches and visiting!”

“They’d have to be from way out of town,” Apollo says, “because there’s no one I know from the LA area who would hear about a town in the mountains full of monsters and say ‘yeah, I’m going to spend money to go spend time there’.”

“Yet here we are,” Trucy says. She reaches into her purse and pulls out a bracelet of wooden beads. “Oh, here.” She grabs his arm and slips it onto his wrist next to his bracelet, then shaking her own wrist to draw his attention to a matching one she wears. “I forgot to give you this sooner; it’s rowan wood, which is—”

“An anti-fae charm like iron,” Apollo finishes.

Trucy nods. “Yep! And anti-yokai, it overlaps. Anyway, Daddy says it’s very important to not get rowan mixed up with hawthorn wood, which the fae like. He says that’s a very dangerous mistake to make.”

(“Are you speaking from experience?” Apollo asked, and Phoenix cracked a broken smile and told him that’s all he has to speak from.)

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Apollo says.

“I know you’ve got your ring, but it can’t hurt us to be extra cautious out here today.” Trucy pats the necklace she is wearing; a small horseshoe-shaped charm that must be made of iron dangles from it. Horseshoes are a lucky thing, or thought to be, Apollo knows. Clay has one he keeps with him. “I think that’s why Daddy wanted you to come with me. I think he’s worried I would get into trouble alone, since Jinxie’s working and I won’t be with her all day.”

“I thought he sent me with you because he hates me,” Apollo says. Trucy smacks him on the arm.

Uphill to the alderman’s manor, the dirt roads merge with a well-kept cobblestone path to lead them into a beautiful garden, full of paper lanterns and long banquet tables. Trucy sticks her nose into a bush of beautiful golden flowers and is still admiring them when Jinxie, wearing an apron over her dress and carrying a round serving tray, finds them and slaps a warding charm – one of the thin formal slips that Apollo saw for sale down in the yokai extravaganza, like she wears on her own forehead, not a sticky note – on his forehead. Even after she remembers that she’s met him before, they have to make their way through another circular argument about whether or not Apollo is a fae demon. Trucy has apparently given up on convincing Jinxie of the truth, because she says, “He’s a demon but a good one!”

Does he look extra monstrous today, for some reason? Is his hair spikier, his voice louder? What has he done to deserve this?

Jinxie works as a maid at the manor, though she doesn’t live in the Vale but instead in the neighboring Tenma Town, and with her job she can’t spend all afternoon with them. She imparts on them some local lore from the village about the powerful and terrible yokai, Tenma Taro – is it coincidence or significant that its name bears such similarity to Tenma Town? Like Kurain and Khura’in, what does that mean? – imprisoned in the mountain that the manor is built against. Today’s festival, she explains, is a much more robust version, bolstered by tourist dollars, of a ceremony they hold every year, ritually releasing a shade of Tenma Taro and then banishing it.

Though instead of the Nine-Tailed Fox, the village’s guardian yokai – is that an oxymoron? Apollo once would have thought so, but he works in an office that has a guardian ghost fae – doing the banishing, the wrestler the Amazing Nine-Tails, will be.

Which reminds Apollo of Trucy’s one-sided conversation on the way over, and he interrupts Jinxie and Trucy starting to gush over some recent matches to ask, “So all of this you’re talking about, the wrestlers, uh, kind of channeling yokai spirits – that’s all just in the fiction of wrestling not really being real, right?” They both glare at him. “They aren’t actually using magic and summoning demons, right?”

“Apollo,” Trucy scolds, her hands curled into fists on her hips. “You can’t break kayfabe! You should know that!”

He wishes he had the strength to believe that it isn’t real, and that no one could be so stupid to be fucking around that deep into fae magic for the sake of televised entertainment, but he’s also here at a goddamn yokai festival on one of his days off and that’s pretty stupid too.

“I should get back to work,” Jinxie says. “I’ll see you later – ah!”

Making its way through the garden, causing people to spring out of its path, is a tall bird-creature, with gray feathers and three yellow eyes and sharp talons on its hands and feet, which with their yellow skin resemble the legs of some kind of raptor. It resembles the yokai on the scroll Jinxie showed them, the Tenma Taro, but it’s just – someone in a costume? Right? A costume for a festival, and not actually—

It rounds on Jinxie with a hiss. “Better watch out, little girl, or I’ll sssnatch you away!” She raises her platter up over her face and cowers back into one of the banquet tables. Apollo thinks that it probably is just someone in a costume, now that he’s seen it speak; its beak doesn’t move and its tongue lolls forth even in the middle of its speech. It’s too static, or is that wishful thinking?

But no one else is looking at the monster and how it’s cornered Jinxie, no one moving to help her – and Apollo realizes he is moving forward, not sure what he could do if it’s a yokai and knowing he shouldn’t do anything if it’s a performer (like how he and Clay got banned from a local haunted house when they were 13 because Clay reflexively punched one of the actors in the sternum), but still unable to stand by.

“Hey! Don’t stare like that!” someone nearby warns, at a volume that tries to be a whisper but doesn’t really succeed. They must be talking to Apollo and Trucy, because no one else, not even Jinxie, is staring. “If Tenma Taro locks eyes with you, he’ll steal your soul!”

Apollo turns his eyes to the ground instantly, reflexively, because that’s the one thing he knows not to take chances on even though, as he thinks about it, he’s more sure that this monster is a costume and even if it weren’t, he doesn’t think there’s anything powerful enough to just simply take a soul so easily. And if there were, they wouldn’t just casually set it loose. (He hopes.)

“Look!” Trucy whispers, nudging him and pointing toward the manor, where a small figure stands on the roof dark against the blue spring sky. Whatever – whoever – it is leaps down to the lower roof, disappearing from sight, but only a few seconds later springs again, with a long leap far too long to be human. (He thinks first of Lamiroir’s disappearing act and wonders what the trick behind this is.) The man who lands in the midst of them, between Tenma Taro and Jinxie, wears a wrestler’s belt and a golden fox-head mask, with a collar of the same color fur that turns into a cape of many long foxes’ tails. If he was going to guess, Apollo would say that there are nine.

Clearly the Amazing Nine-Tails, and with some silted words about vanquishing evil, he chases Tenma Taro back toward the manor. And Apollo might now be really convinced of the scriptedness of it – and admittedly relieved by that – but the crowds are cheering and Jinxie no longer looks like she’s about to faint from fright. With her platter still clutched across her chest like a shield, she waves goodbye and returns to work, and Trucy drags Apollo off to explore the town.

-

Trucy wants to buy everything. Apollo should have expected that – the amount of Gavineers merchandise that she acquired in the two weeks between their meeting Klavier and the concert was astonishing – and to that end he should have expected that she would run out of money and turn to him. She at least considers herself an organized businesswoman, enough to write up the invoice of what she owes him, and he strikes from it the paper warding charms they buy. He isn’t sure yet if he believes in them, but he’d probably be getting a few for his and Clay’s apartment anyway, and Trucy is talking about how it would be nice to have some kind of protective charm to give to Vera that wouldn’t hurt her like iron, and getting something for their friends seems a worthwhile investment. Trucy’s attempt to wheedle a few dollars out of him for another plush Nine-Tailed Fox keychain is not.

It’s warmer now than it was last April, enough that Apollo tentatively hopes that the fae are done throwing their winter tantrums. If Trucy had to drag him anywhere – and she would consider that a necessity – it’s a good day for it, pleasant to spend time out under the sun and the clear sky. He’s not even convinced that the town is as cursed as he first assumed.

Naturally, that’s where it always goes wrong, letting his guard down, no longer anticipating that the worst is going to claw its way up out of the dirt.

He and Trucy circle back to the manor as a crowd is starting to gather at the front doors; at the center of it, once they manage to push through the people, Trucy helping clear a path by sending Mr Hat off to the side to draw people’s eyes and attention the way a will o’ the wisp does, is Jinxie, simultaneously wild-eyed and looking close to passing out. She stretches out one visibly-trembling hand and grabs Trucy by the wrist, her other arm still hugging the platter close to her chest. It must be iron, it must. “Alderman Kyubi is dead!” she cries. “T-ten – Tenma Taro murdered the alderman!”

She sways on her feet and Trucy takes her by the elbow and helps lower her to sit on the ground, and Apollo does what is starting to become a habit in these sort of situations – which are becoming habitual in themselves – and rushes in, pocketing a charm that Jinxie throws at him as he goes.

The scene is a small room Jinxie called the Fox Chamber, up the entry stairs and down the hall to the right, and there, one thing is certain: the alderman is dead.

-

A classic locked room murder mystery: two men, one dead, the other unconscious, no one else seen when Jinxie discovered the crime. The killer? Obvious, seemingly: the unfortunate unconscious man, whose murder plan clearly ran into a hitch when it came time to get away, and for motive who happens to be the mayor of the neighboring town currently disputing over municipal issues with the dead alderman.

Except the mayor is Jinxie’s father, and if he goes to jail she has no other family, and she’s adamant that Tenma Taro did the killing, and the last locked-room murder case that Apollo defended ended up not being one at all. So, classic setup, maybe, never the obvious solution, and Apollo’s record of stumbling into complex cases while he’s trying to do something law-unrelated with Trucy continues. Is it her? Is it him? Is it them both, together? He can only write so much off as coincidence.

And he wishes he could write off Jinxie’s ramblings as those of a superstitious girl scared witless by the feathers and bloody footprints at the crime scene, and maybe once he could have, maybe this time last year, but he’s seen too much since then. If a monster, a yokai – are they connected to the fae? They must be. Isn’t everything? – murdered the alderman, then the question becomes: how does he prove it? How does he convince the judge and prosecution of it?

He should start with asking Mayor Tenma what happened, first.

Trucy tells him that the mayor can seem scary, but he’s nice, really, promise not to run away, Polly. His nerves would be frayed enough without it, but her warning snaps several more of the barely-connected threads, and like a self-fulfilling prophecy, he’s jumpy and nearly flees the room, sheet of glass between them or no. Mayor Tenma is very good at setting some very bad impressions, loudly, with great force, giving Apollo’s heart time enough to stop several times before the mayor corrects the misconception. It’s a very anxiety-inducing interview, and the facts he gleans from it are worse: Mayor Tenma’s fingerprints were on the murder weapon, and he, asleep from being drugged, remembers nothing, including who was it that hit him on the head. Apollo can’t see the wound or a bandage; the mayor’s entire scalp is covered in Jinxie’s warding charms, as though to make a full hat. Does he believe, or is he humoring his daughter? Apollo doesn’t ask.

He has barely left the building when he receives a phone call from the last person he expects. “Mr Wright? What’s going on?”

“Trucy tells me you’ve found yourself a case over in Nine-Tails Vale.” No preamble, no small talk: Phoenix, friendly as ever.

“Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Are you still at the Vale right now?”

“No, I was just talking to the client at the detention center. Why?”

Phoenix sighs heavily. “Because I’m at the airport, picking up the new addition to the Agency – Athena Cykes, Trucy’s mentioned her to you before? And I mentioned your case, and that was it, no stopping her, Athena ditched me with her luggage and took the rental car and is heading out to help you right now.”

“She – you what? She what?” Apollo won’t say that he doesn’t feel some small sense of satisfaction at Phoenix having to suffer someone else flaking on him, but what an impression to make on your new boss.

(Almost as good as punching him in the face.)

“So I need a favor, basically: can you go back to Nine-Tails Vale and intercept her?”

“I—” Once again, the way this day is going takes a sharp turn off the road. “Yeah, I can. But I’ve never met her – what’s she look like?”

“Yellow,” Phoenix says.

“What?”

“She’s got long red hair, and the way you’re red, she’s yellow. Hard to miss with how much energy she’s got.” The description is somehow both vague and incredibly specific – he can’t exactly picture Miss Cykes in his head, but he knows he won’t mistake anyone else for her when he finds her.

“Okay. I can do that. I have to go back anyway to check out the crime scene.” Did he say that Athena had a rental car? He can only dream of how convenient that will be once he gets to her.

“Cool, thanks. Good luck with the case – and with the Vale.”

So much for putting himself at ease convincing himself that it was just a man in a costume, and that there’s some sort of easy explanation for the feathers. (Or not an easy explanation, because saying that Tenma Taro passed through is very easy, but a mundane one.) “What does that mean? Mr Wright?” He doesn’t answer right away, giving Apollo’s stomach enough time to flip over itself and then squish his heart up into his throat. “The stuff Trucy was saying about wrestling, with the yokai and the masks and uh, channeling them? Or whatever it is – that’s not – that’s just the story on the show, right? That’s not…?”

“Not actually real? For most of them, it’s not, no; no magic in the mask but television magic and a tall tale to keep the audience.”

“But – most of them. You said for most of them? So for some of them it is real?”

“Yeah.”

Apollo wants to sink down to the sidewalk and cry. Or scream. Definitely scream, right here next to a police building where they can arrest him for disturbing the peace very easily.

“I can say with certainty that if any spirits involved were actually powerful and smart enough to be malicious, they wouldn’t be stooping to playing a part in half-scripted on-camera fights between half-naked men. Maybe it’ll be a nuisance to your case, at worst, but no threat to anyone’s lives or souls.”

Apollo wishes he could believe that wholeheartedly, and that he could say for sure that Phoenix’s definition of nuisance is something close to his own. “If you don’t get the Not Guilty tomorrow, when you head back up to investigate again, I’ll let you borrow the magatama,” Phoenix adds. “Just so you can really keep an eye on everything, if it’s needed.”

He thinks there will be a second day – that if Apollo doesn’t win in one, then he will have kept his head above water well enough to drag it out. He doesn’t expect Apollo to lose in a day. He thinks Apollo could win in a day.

“Thanks, Mr Wright.”

“No problem. Now you’ve gotta find Athena, and I’ve gotta figure out how to lug her suitcase home.”

Athena, Athena – what else has Trucy told him about her? She was studying in Europe – did she grow up there, too? Does she know what Los Angeles is like? Will she think him superstitious or ridiculous for everything he knows to be real? Does she know what she is walking into in Nine-Tails Vale? Did Phoenix warn her?

Apollo starts walking quicker than before. Of course Phoenix wouldn’t warn her – but hell, to be charitable to Phoenix (for once), he might not have had time to say anything to her before she took off.

If, against his own nature and his lived experience, he tries to be optimistic, he hopes for three things. First, that everyone involved in the murder his plainly human and that no monster committed murder. (That seems the most likely: would a monster know to plant the mayor’s fingerprints?) Second, that Athena has enough sense to be cautious about whatever village folklore they’re stumbling into instead of immediately dismissing it. And third, if he’s really dreaming, that Klavier will be the prosecutor on this case, easily able to identify who is and isn’t human and probably willing to share it.

But Apollo knows that’s all a little much to hope.

[jinjikook]

Affaires Douées (M)

word count: 7.4k

genre: smut; CEO!minhyuk

pairing: reader/minhyuk

summary: you’re fashion CEO lee minhyuk’s personal assistant, and in deep denial about your well-reasoned attraction to said man. when he reveals he’s had issues taking care of himself, paired with you seeing him lose his temper in front of everyone, it leads you two to take your business relationship to a more personal level.

a/n: this was inspired by this lovely video which had a yelling minhyuk that had me hot and bothered within seconds. please, suffer with me.

masterlist

You loved your job.

It was easy enough that you could handle it with minimal effort yet you knew what you did was vitally important to not only your company, but your boss as well.

Your superior was the CEO of the company, a Mr. Lee Minhyuk. You were his head assistant, in charge of making sure all his meetings went smoothly and on schedule and that he was kept up to date with all the latest events in his company.

The business was fashion, a corporation for a clothing line. Mr. Lee had always had a knack for fashion, always having an innate sense of style that compared to no other. It was fresh, unique and still flattering to many. No one knew if it was because Mr. Lee himself was basically an angel when it came to looks or just because he truly knew how to style clothing, but anything and everything he wore and made was spectacular.

It left women gaping in puddles of their own dribble and drool; how he’d sashay in between meetings to speak with employees and work on ideas. Too many times had your coworkers spoke to you in jealousy of the close proximity you had to the attractive man, wishing they were in your position. You thought they had their heads to far up some lonely women’s sex novel because—as much as they thought it was true—life doesn’t work like they do in those books. The sexy CEO doesn’t fall for his young assistant and love making certainly does not happen in his secluded office in secret.

You stepped into his office for the second time that morning, the first time being to drop off his files needed for the first meeting of the day that was honestly too fucking early in the morning to be legal. Your boss agreed wholeheartedly, wishing his client would’ve been anything, anything, other than a morning person. Minhyuk always made you laugh, hell he made everyone laugh. He was just bubbly like that, capable of making anybody’s day brighter and mood rid of any sourness.

“Mr. Lee, how was the meeting?” You chirped cheerfully, feeling more refreshed after the early morning stresses had passed and you had a cup of coffee already thrumming in your system.

He groaned, letting his head drop to his huge mahogany desk. You giggled at his reaction, knowing he had a tendency to be childish at times but you found it endearing. It made him more human, less like the robot that movies and books paint big shot CEOs to be.

“That bad, huh? I knew it wouldn’t go well, honestly.” Minhyuk brought his head up at that, a sheet of paper sticking to his forehead on the way up and making him go cross-eyed as he looked at it before tearing it off his face.

“If you knew that, why didn’t you say anything?!” Your boss exclaimed, high pitched and almost whiny in a way.

“What good would it have done? Besides, you know how Chae Hyungwon is. It’s his way or no way. I just honestly can’t believe he’s a ‘morning person’. I heard he sleeps like a goddamn rock.”

“He really isn’t one, he was falling asleep for half the meeting!” Minhyuk explained, sounded more frustrated than whiny at this point. “He just likes to have the meetings early so then he can sleep the rest of the day away. I know because his cute little assistant—what was his name again?”

“Changkyun.”

“Ah yes, Changkyun, thank you dear. Changkyun told me to speed it up so he could get Mr. Chae back home in time for something to eat before his nap. I swear, it’s like a child and nanny more than anything else with those two.” You laughed at your boss’s joke, coming up to his desk to hand him his own sugary sweet coffee.

He thanked you and took a sip, head lolling back as he groaned in immense pleasure. The whole thing looked pornographic and if you weren’t so conditioned to his reactions, you’d flush at the action. The first time he’d reacted to your apparent ‘perfect coffee mixing’ skills, you had freaked out. It was too much for you to handle, especially on your first week of working with him and your nerves were already in a tight wad of anxiety from your high position.

“Perfect as always, Y/N. You’re seriously an angel sent from heaven just for me.”

“Oh shut up Lee, you flatter me too much. It’s seriously too easy to please you.” You poked fun at your boss to which he responded with sticking his tongue out at you much like a child would.

“Apparently it isn’t, if last night was anything to go by…” He shared, sipping away at his coffee as if he didn’t just share a piece of juicy gossip from his night out yesterday.

“Wait, you can’t just do that! I want details!” You shouted, taking your usual seat at the corner of his desk. You and your boss were fairly casual with one another, more friends than coworkers. It made things more fun that way, you two weren’t so pressed about formalities and all that. He loved to share things and you loved to listen to good gossip. It worked out beautifully and no one was the wiser.

Well, except for the nosy, jealous women who were sure that your wonderful chemistry with him was due to the fact you were fucking, not because you guys got along so well.

He rolled his office chair up to your corner of the desk, already assuming what you deemed was the “tea-spilling position”. He’d sit back in front of you and you’d rest your legs on the arm rest of one side on the chair. He’d sometimes stroke along the skin of your legs, a soothing touch that brought chills to your spine in a good way.

Raising your eyebrows in a way meant to say ‘well?’, Minhyuk waited a beat before beginning his story.

“It was this guy, amazingly gorgeous everywhere. He was built, handsome, well-dressed and his smile was to die for.”

“Okay so far so good…” You egged him on, wanting the nitty-gritty of the story already. You didn’t even comment on the fact that his prey of the night was of the male variety, knowing full and well that your boss was a man of many tastes, including in partners. He’d slept with women and men alike, not judging them based on their gender but rather their abilities in bed.

(And their fashion tastes but he swears that’s on a professional level.)

“Well we meshed well, danced like horny teenagers at the club and he took me back to his place. It was messier than I would’ve liked but I clearly wasn’t there for the atmosphere.” Giggling at the insinuation, you motioned for him to continue.

“So we’re at his apartment, getting all nasty and I made him come in no time like the goddamn pro that I am. But then, when it came down for me to finish, he’d sucked me off for like two minutes and then complained about how long it takes me! Just because I don’t come like a virgin, I’m apparently bad in bed!”

You could help but bark out in laughter at his night, watching as Minhyuk’s eyes widened with false anger.

“Hey! Don’t laugh! I didn’t even get to come!” That only fueled you to laugh harder, doubling over in your place on his desk. You slapped your skirt covered thigh and wiped away at a tear at the tip of your eyelashes.

Finally subduing your raucous laughter, you caught sight at your boss grinning from ear to ear, finding reactions cute more than anything else, despite the false anger he tried to use earlier.

“Wait, you didn’t even jerk off later?”

“I couldn’t! That’s when Kihyun from accounting called me with that ‘emergency’ which was just him trying to find the papers Jooheon had accidentally tossed out!” He dropped his face into his hands, pouting and squishing his cheeks with his palms. It looked absolutely adorable, despite how sinfully good he always managed to look.

Cooing at him, you petted his hair which prompted him to snuggle his way to resting his head on your lap, much like a cuddly, pouty puppy.

“Aww, poor baby. You just wanted to get your dick wet.” He nodded into your lap and you giggled, loving how touchy-feely he got.

“It hurts so much Y/N, why can’t I just find someone who can take care of my needs?” You chittered away encouraging words to him, telling him how he’d find someone soon enough.

It was normal for you two to be cuddled up like this, especially if Minhyuk was feeling particularly frustrated or if he had alcohol in his system. You liked the skinship; it comforted both of you and sure, a small crush had budded on your employer but you knew it was the most unlikely thing to every come to fruition at your job so you always ignored whatever butterflies stewed in you when things like this happened. But no one else knew of how close you two got and if they knew, they’d certainly confirm any of the rumors regarding you two being together in some way.

That’s why when the sound of knuckles knocking on the heavy mahogany door of Minhyuk’s office, the two of you broke apart in a hurry. The last thing either of you needed were more hushed whispers whenever you two were even in the same vicinity, despite the fact that it was your fucking job to be so close to him.

“Excuse me, Mr. Lee?” Rang a pretty voice, followed by the always gorgeous Hani from the advertising department entering the office. She was utterly gorgeous, and on numerous occasions you wondered what she was doing setting up ads with beautiful models plastered on them when she should be on them herself.

“Sorry for interrupting, but I need your approval on the newest spread. We can’t proceed without it.” Hani stepped up to the desk, handing over what looked like a beautifully done cover for a magazine. Minhyuk had taken it nonchalantly, but you noticed how his fingers lingered on Hani’s own, how she seemed to smile brighter at the contact. You knew it was unintentional of him and Hani was getting her hopes up over nothing, but you couldn’t help but feel the slightest twinge of jealousy at the touch. You’d literally just been sitting with his whole head in your lap and yet the small, insignificant touch had you swimming in your own thoughts.

“Looks good, an excellent job as always Hani.” He spoke in soft tones, a contrast to his earlier exasperated exclamations when he was speaking with you. Once again, it touched on a sore spot. It was childish and dumb to think this way, he spoke softly to you to from time to time too and either way, this tone was his “business voice”, so why were you so jealous Hani was getting this kind of treatment?

Before you could question it any further, Hani was already out the door and Minhyuk had called you back to finish your earlier conversation. It was short lived, since you had some work to attend to but you promised to return in time to share lunch with him, as per his request.

You had come and gone around the office for roughly an hour and a half, doing what Minhyuk needed to be done along with the few tasks you had to make sure were done for your own sake. After finishing up with the small details you had to relay back to Minhyuk about the partnership with Son Hyunwoo’s modeling agency, you began to strut back in the direction of Minhyuk’s office. It was then that you’d heard some voices, louder than they should be in a work environment.

You perked your head up and looked around for the source of the disturbance, finding your way to the semi-private offices meant for the more “important” employees. What you saw surprised you.

There was Kim Yugyeom, a head for the International Department in the company, standing meekly in front of Lee Minhyuk, your so-called sweet as honey boss.

Usually, Yugyeom was as cocky as can be. He was a pro at his job, young and brimming with potential that he never failed to make use of. He knew how good he was and certainly never let anyone forget it. But here he was, head low and back hunched as Minhyuk stood in front of him, tall and no doubt upset.

It took a lot to upset Minhyuk. He was an understanding boss, always considerate of others and their feelings. Sometimes you thought he was too easy on his employees but his company was a multi-billion international business at this point so he had to be doing something right. People loved him; Hell, people adored him.

So it came as a surprise when a loud yell erupted from Minhyuk’s mouth, nostrils flaring in anger as he shouted at Yugyeom.

“Do you think you own this company? Huh? Your mistake could cost us millions! Fuck, your mistake may cost people their jobs! And you thought you could get away with it? Sweep it under the rug and hope no one would notice!?” Minhyuk was seething, his long digits tight in fists by his side as the veins in his neck bulged out prominently.  

It was such a turn on.

You couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to places it shouldn’t. You’d barely ever seen Minhyuk even the barest amount of upset, let alone ‘yelling in the middle of the office before noon’ angry. Just the sight of his tensing muscles in the damn peach slacks pants he chose to wear today along with the light pastel pink flowing dress shirt made your skin feel warm. He was in the business of fashion, it was his job to look good. You just never thought he could look… this good.

Yugyeom nodded along with everything Minhyuk has shouted at him, agreeing that he’d made a mistake and that it was unbelievably stupid and reckless for him to have done.

“Get out of my sight! I want you out of here!” Minhyuk screamed, his voice bellowing to the point where your bones felt like they were shaking. You felt your core get even hotter at the sensation, wishing he would show himself being more assertive more often.

Yugyeom nearly ran out of there with his tail in-between his legs. He ducked his head and avoided eye contact as he bolted out of the office, leaving Minhyuk there still stewing in his anger.

Everyone was watching him now, still in awe at his behavior. Most people were scared, afraid to be the next one in his line of sight. You, on the other hand, hoped he’d pull you into his office and give you a stern talking to as well.

(And maybe a few spanks for punishment along the way, but you’d never admit that.)

His trained eyes landed on you, looking nothing short of cold as he beckoned you with a finger, motioning for you to follow him as he turned on heel to head to his office.

Was he a mind reader? Could he tell how much you wanted him to ravish and dominate you? You hoped you were better at hiding your feelings than you usually are.

You could hear murmured whispered as you trailed behind Minhyuk, everyone clearing out the way for the two of you. People left and right were saying how you were next, how he was going to make you fix everything and even a few women shared their opinions about how good Minhyuk looked with his eyebrows furrowed in anger.

Reaching his office, he grumbled for you to close the door behind you two and you stood in silence once you did. You could hear Minhyuk’s labored breaths as he tried to calm down, no doubt he was closing his eyes and probably trying to think calm thoughts.

“I can’t believe he was such an idiot!” Minhyuk began, already decided this anger wasn't going to go away just by wishing it would. He turned and faced you, leaning his palms flat behind him on the desk. “He actually thought he could get away with such a stupid, stupid mistake!” His eyes finally met yours as he continued, “He could’ve fucked over a lot of people.” He ran one large hand though his dark hair, disheveling the raven locks as he sighed, exasperated and almost desperate. “He could’ve fucked you over, Y/N.”

“What? Me?” You asked incredulously, what could Kim Yugyeom have possibly done that would’ve backfired on you?

“He messed up the orders, the numbers got screwed up and you had signed for them at the time. It was a mistake on his part but he tried to pass it off as it being your fault. He had the audacity to try and make me fire you, not him.” Minhyuk tugged at his matching peach tie, loosening it around his neck and making him look even sexier than before.

“I’ve never been so angry before Y/N… I don’t know how I’ll be able to calm down after this. I’m just so… fucking upset.” Minhyuk hissed, breathing hard as he relived his anger from before.

It made you feel guilty, how all you could think about was sex when your friend and boss was pissed because of how you could’ve been fired because of someone else’s fault.  But he was so damned good looking and his hands kept flexing out of anger and you just wanting those hand on you, in you and—

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Minhyuk asked, his dark eyes back on you as you shook yourself out of your dirty thoughts. You didn’t even answer his question, eyes dropping down to his pink lips as he darted out his tongue to lick them. Minhyuk didn’t let this go unnoticed, realizing the thick air of sexual tension that drowned the room.

Minhyuk chuckled dark, noting how you were still stuck on the sight of his mouth.

“Y/N, you’re my head assistant right?” You were able to register his question and just nodded, your throat too parched to fathom a response. “My most trusted employee, and friend.” Another nod. “You’re supposed to help me with anything I need, anything I want. Right?” This made your eyes drag back to Minhyuk’s own, nodding once more while maintaining eye contact.

“Good, in that case: I want you on your knees. Now.” Minhyuk didn’t even stutter, his body staying perfectly still as you tried to process what Minhyuk had just said.

“What?” Your voice came out, as brittle and fragile as you were sure it’d be like.

“You heard me. Down here, on your knees, right now.” Minhyuk smirked a devilish smile, dripping in dominance as he fully ascertained his role in this situation. You couldn’t think straight, mind clouded with lust and confusion and—

“Did I fucking stutter Y/N? That’ll be five.”

“F-five?” You asked, finally making your legs move and bring you slowly closer to Minhyuk.

“That’s how many spanks you’re at, for now. If you continue to be a brat and not listen or talk back, I’ll add more to your punishment. Now, I’d suggest you to be a good girl and get down. I’m in need of some relief and I’m sure a nosy employee is going to want to stick their nose in our business soon, so get to work baby girl.”

Words weren’t even at the forefront of your mind, still in disbelief that this was all happening. You were sure you had fallen asleep somewhere, maybe on your desk. This entire thing had to be a dream, a fantasy coming to fruition due to the serious lack of sex you’ve had lately.

The thing about your wet dreams though, you never took them for granted. So you obeyed every command Minhyuk spit at you.

Dropping to your knees, you eyed the growing bulge that was certainly not being concealed by his tight slacks, quickly making work of the buttons and zipper and rubbing against the muscle. It twitched against your palm, already feeling so warm and full despite being behind several layers of clothes. You looked up and nearly choked at the sight: Minhyuk eyeing you hungrily and licking his lips, one of his hands coming up to caress your hair gently.

You wasted no time and tugged his pants down, revealing his designer briefs that you knew were hand-picked and one-of-a-kind just for him. You stroked at his cock over the underwear, reveling in the twitching muscle and slowly darkening fabric right at the head of it, the underwear becoming damp with his pre-come.

You reached for his waistband and pulled it down along with his pants in order to get full access to his cock. Minhyuk growled lowly as you fisted at his erection, in awe at just how long and lean he was. Even his cock was pretty; it seriously wasn’t fair.

Thumbing at the flushed rose head, you watched as Minhyuk let his head roll back, clearly still pent up from not getting his proper release last night. Deciding he’d been through enough and deserved some loving treatment, you leaned forward and suckled along the length, wet kisses being planted up and down the sides and bottom of his shaft.

His fingers momentarily tightened onto your hair, making you stop your motions.

“That’s enough teasing, I wanted you to suck me off. As pretty as your lipstick looks peppered on my dick, I’d prefer to have you choking on it instead.” Minhyuk rumbled, his usually peppy voice raspy and low as he tugged your hair with one hand and used his other to guide the head of his cock to your mouth. You pouted your lips and Minhyuk hummed, pleased at your obedience. He tapped his cock against your lips, covering them in a slick film of his release.

He approved of the look before easing your mouth open, pressing his length in and groaning at the velvety feel of your mouth. Once your heated tongue made contact with the underside of him, he lost his resolve and instantly thrusted, resulting in making you gag. Unprepared for the intrusion, you placed your hand on his hip and tried to push off.

“C’mon baby girl, behave. Hands off or I’ll add five more to your punishment.” You listened instantly, still having half a mind to leave your hand there in hopes to get the punishment you were desperately aching for before.

He smirked as he drank in your submission to him, wanting to drown in the power he had over you. Letting his hands cup your face, you prepared for his rough treatment by loosening your jaw and relaxing your throat.

Holding nothing back, Minhyuk began to thrust languidly into your mouth, relishing in the feeling of your throat coming into contact with his head every other thrust. His hand threaded deeper into your hair as he got rougher, the slick sounds of your mouth around him getting louder. If anyone had their ears pressed against the door, they could no doubt hear what you were up to.

You tried to stimulate Minhyuk as much as you could, still maintaining to focus on not choking on his length. Your tongue pressed against him and the feeling made Minhyuk stutter and shudder inside your mouth. He tugged away and the wet squelch as your mouth pulled off him made your core ache for something inside it already.

“So damn good…” Minhyuk mumbled, petting at your hair. “Baby, you nearly made me come with your mouth alone. But that’s not what I want. So get up,” He pulled your hair and you winced at the delicious sting as you gave into his harsh grip. Standing back up on your feet, Minhyuk manhandled you to place your palms on his desk as he situated himself behind you.

“Minhyuk, what are you—“

“Ten.”

You furrowed your brows in frustration at yourself and bit your tongue, forgetting that you weren’t allowed to speak without being told to. Shutting your mouth, you wait as the warmth of Minhyuk’s body leaves you. He had taken a step back and was admiring your body, how pliant you were under his touch and even more so under his commands.  

“Beautiful…” He murmured under his breath, returning to you and you began to shake in anticipation as he tugged your skirt up over your hips. You kept your eyes straight, looking at the floor-to-ceiling windows and feeling like the whole world could see how depraved you appeared in that moment. The thought should’ve humiliated you but instead it only made your blood run hotter at the thought of being watched.

Suddenly Minhyuk large palm was hot against the skin of your ass as he caressed the smooth surface. He placed his mouth right by your ear as he pressed his body firm against your back.

His breath tickled your ear as he rasped into it, “Count for me.”

You nodded and awaited for his coming impact, still flinching when it came harsh against your ass.

“One.” You hissed, anticipating the next snap of his wrist. Despite preparing yourself, the following spank still made you jolt forward.

“Two.”

Three and four were just as hard as the last two, but when Minhyuk rose his hand for the fifth, he decided it was time to play for real.

Licking the line of his fingers, he brought his hand down—Hard. You yelped at the sensation and felt tears prickle at the edge of your eyes. Shutting them tight, a sole tear wormed its way past your eyelashes and pooled right at the cusp of your cheekbone. You had chewed on your cheek and realized a second too late that you had forgone counting the fifth spank out loud.

Opening you mouth to quickly acquiescence your error and fix the mistake but a slap on your ass that couldn’t compare to others in terms of power and strength landed itself right on the sensitive meat of your thigh, right below your ass cheek.

You felt Minhyuk’s breathe right by your ear, slightly labored with a rasp of his wet throat growling before he spoke, “You missed a number, sweetheart. Looks like we’re gonna have to start all over.” You could practically hear the smirk dripping off his face onto your shoulder as he started off once more.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Even five, you were able to maintain composure and finally move one from where you had fucked up earlier.

Minhyuk was proud, despite increasing his strength with each passing spank, you were handling the pain (and pleasure) well. It didn’t stop you from being a squirming, drooling mess on his expensive more-than-your-yearly-salary desk but you at least managed to tough it out all the way to ten.

He eagerly rubbed your sore ass, the pressure maddening as it only shot sparks of pain up the tendrils of nerves in your spine to the point where you felt tingles in the very tips of your fingers and toes.

You hissed as he continued to knead harshly, the pain becoming a little too much for you to handle as tears slowly pricked along your eyelashes. “M-Minhyuk, enough. I can’t—no more, please.”

It seems that mercy isn’t unheard by your usually compassionate superior, as he let up where he was touching you to instead caress your sides lightly, pulling your blouse a little higher up on every uptick of his strokes.

“I think I’ll be the judge of that,” He hoarsely whispered before you felt his hot length brush up against the bare skin of your ass, the contact searing along the bruised and marred planes. You let your head drop forward, forehead resting on what you knew was a very important file regarding the recall on some slacks that had faulty buttons. It was now glistening with your tears and saliva, probably past the point of saving.

It’s going to be a very shameful walk to Kibum’s office when you’ll inevitably have to go and ask for him to remake them for you.

Clicking his tongue right before pressing a dry kiss under your ear, Minhyuk braced one palm on the desk next to you, caging you in even further. “Now, now; I know you’ll need at least something to prep you, I don’t want to hurt my little assistant, now do I?” His long digit caressed the fabric that covered your core before he slipped it under the side and tugged, revealing your glistening folds to his hand. He brushed along the sensitive skin, making you shiver and bite back a whimper that threatened to escape.

Minhyuk softly reprimanded you for keeping your moans and noises to yourself before he finally dipped in one sole finger, his index you were sure.

He growled at the nape of your neck, his self-control wavering as he began to pump his digit in and out of you, soft sounds of your slickness squelching against him echoing from his hand. “So wet, all this for me gorgeous?”

Minhyuk fucked you open with his finger, your legs feeling like jelly at everything so far. You leaned on the desk for support, knowing full and well that if you relied on your own body, you’d be down on the ground in an instant. Minhyuk seemed to sense this and—as sympathetic as he is—pushed you a little higher up, giving you more space to rest on the top of the desk so you wouldn’t slip off once he began the real fun.

Which was now apparently, since he slipped his finger out and you felt what undoubtedly was the head of his cock.

“Wait!” You managed to squeak out, eyeing Minhyuk from over your shoulder as best you could from your position.

He paused and awaited your response, tapping his foot impatiently by your own legs.

“What about protection, a condom?”

“Baby, you told me you’re on the pill, right?”

You nodded, trying to ignore the protesting ache in your knees and spine from being bent and battered for so long. “Yeah, but how do I know you’re clean? You like to fuck around, it’s our daily gossip.”

“I test myself on the regular, honey. Plus I use condoms whenever it’s not oral sex, I’m not a monster. You’d be the first to know if I caught something, since you’d have to bring me my meds.” He jokingly murmured as he mouthed wetly on your exposed shoulder, having pulled the fabric of your blouse away from your collarbones to reveal the skin there so he could bite and kiss as he pleased.

You huffed a small laugh, agreeing silently because that was completely true. Not only would he have probably cried and griped to you about it one morning but you would totally have to keep him on track with his medication, knowing full and well that he’d never remember to take them if you weren’t around to remind him.

“Can I keep going or…?” Minhyuk’s voice was laced with amusement, his earlier anger and dominance fading as you two brought back your usual witty bantering between one another. You giggled lightly and nodded, bracing yourself with newfound strength as he brought his cock back to where had pulled your panties to the side.

He dipped in shallowly at first, just the tip, letting the head get soaked in your juices first before slowly entering inch by inch, allowing you to get used to his size as he finally bottomed out and stayed plastered against your back. His one hand on the desk visibly tensed as he too was getting used to you, your body enveloping him in ways he’d never felt before.

“God damn, how are you this tight? Fuck—it’s so good, baby.” Minhyuk drawled, his tongue heavy with just how immense the pleasure felt, bound tight in his stomach and spreading out, making his toes curl and breath catch in his throat.

You could only mirror his reactions, feeling your own oxygen halting in the airways inside your lungs from the perfect, perfect pressure his cock was making inside of you. Your brain was mush, the only coherent thought oddly enough being how he was slotting so well inside you, it had to be fate. It was like a lock and key, only one person made to hit every nerve ending inside you.  

It just had to be your boss.

Hesitantly putting his other hand on the other side of you on the desk, across from the initial one that caged you in, he shuddered at how you clenched around him as you sensed what was to come. Or who.

“I need to move, is that alright, precious?” You numbly nodded, not even having enough air to back up a simple ‘yes’.

He grunted behind you as he slowly pulled out, every drag of his cock striking something fierce inside you. It’d be one of the few times you’ve had unprotected sex, the sensation something akin to fire burning and humming along every nerve fiber that you were born with. Minhyuk hissed as he reached as far as he could pull out without unsheathing himself completely, dragging the head of his cock right at your entrance before rolling his hips forward in a motion you can only describe as ‘sinful’.

He only gave you a few more languid, slow as the day drones on, thrusts before he deemed you two ready for actual sex and he pulled out, similar as before, but then he snapped his hips forward hard.

The sound resonated in his empty office and you lurched forward from the sheer power behind his thrust.

From there it was just a snowball effect.

One sharp snap after another of his hips had you practically sprawled on the front of his desk, now unabashedly open mouthed over the folder you had hoped you could at least partially salvage.

(Hint: It was completely ruined at this point.)

You wanted to hold back every sinful noise that was erupting past your lips but not only did you know that a punishment was imminent if you did, you also were sure that you didn’t actually have the ability to work your fine-motor skills well enough to shut your damn mouth.

Minhyuk saw no issue with this, fucking the whimpers straight out of you and relishing in just how pretty you sounded fucked out. Your throat was near raw at this point, Minhyuk’s earlier treatment from sucking him off now coming back to haunt you as you tried to function with bruised vocal chords.

Barely registering it, you could hear low mumbles and growls by your ear, accompanied with nimble nips along the shell of it. You couldn’t tell what Minhyuk was going on about but you could hear certain words, like fuck, tight, and baby.

You weren’t sure which buzzword turned you on more.

You felt the familiar pull in your chest, the thin wire-like thread unraveling from the pit of your stomach to the edges of your burning lungs. You knew the edge was so unbearably close, the smallest push from making you fall straight off and face the music; the fact that your way-too-hot boss and semi-best friend was inside you and made you come to the point of seeing stars.

Gripping the edge of the desk, you felt pain from your nails being put under too much pressure but you couldn’t focus on it because Minhyuk was currently plowing into at the speed of light, making you jerk and squirm both towards him and away. Your body couldn’t decide if it wanted more of the toe-numbing pleasure Minhyuk was dealing or if it needed an escape for the stinging slaps of his hips against your ass.

“G-gonna come…” More drool dripped from your mouth as you spoke, desperation clear in your wrecked whimpers. Minhyuk made it his personal mission to make you come even faster the minute the words left your mouth.

He mouthed along the shoulder he had already marred with marks, teeth digging in the very peak of your bones as he pushed your back down to plow deeper inside you. You weren’t even sure what the fuck he was hitting but it was like nothing you had ever felt, even with your best lover or vibrator.

The shocks were traveling in bite size murmurs across the span of your skin, leaving you shaking and breathless as your climax washed over you. It wasn’t as harsh as you expected, the painful overstimulation you braced yourself for never came.

Instead, it was slow, dragging. Like you were submerged in a tank, but weightless at the same time. It was like the ocean, waves of foaming pleasure racing over you, over and over and over again. You were sure you had come twice in a row, there was no way it’d last this long otherwise.

In reality, Minhyuk was slowly pumping into you as he felt the pressure of your walls clamboring around him, making his cock twitch as he came closer to coming. When he felt the pressure build too much, he pulled himself out with a lewd sound and took his length in hand, pumping in tandem with his previous pace.

Using your slick to speed his hand up, he came over your ass, the sticky-hot release either soaking the fabric of your underwear if it hit there or coming down in slow tracks until they dripped off the edges  and onto the expensive hand-woven rug underneath you two.

It was a $200 million dollar, one-of-a-kind rug that was gifted to Minhyuk by a business partner in some part of Asia.

What a way to go, you thought as you dropped boneless on Minhyuk’s desk. You could hear his panting, heavy; the sound of fabric rustling along with a zipper telling you that he’d already tucked himself back in.

What made you make a move though, wasn’t that this was all finished, that he was cleaning up already and you two needed to fix yourselves up before someone came in.

No, what made you move was the sound of a phone camera clicking, along with unmistakable blinding white light that was no doubt the flash of a camera.

You shot up instantly, regretting it almost immediately as your bones and muscles ached and protested from the sudden change of posture. “What the fuck Lee?!” You turned, forcing your come-covered rear to rest at the edge of the desk you were originally plastered onto.

He only responded with a shrug, already tugging his haphazard clothes with a few tugs and smoothing down the wrinkles on the silk shirt. “Looked good, it inspired me.” He smirked and handed you an expensive handkerchief.

Yet another gift from a partner. Or maybe from a client, you weren’t too sure.

“Inspired, my ass. I better not see that on any of the PowerPoint presentations at the meetings; or worse: at the company Christmas party. I swear to God Lee Minhyuk,” You stopped to wipe at yourself and pull your skirt back down over your thighs. “If I see that shit blown up with shitty Christmas themed clipart and horny elves, I’ll execute you myself and take over this company. God knows I’m the only reason it stays afloat…”

Minhyuk only laughed at your accusation, quelling your thoughts by simply finding the picture ‘aesthetic’, whatever the fuck that meant to your boss.

You two cleaned up and made the area decent in time for Hani to walk in, not even knocking this time.

“Excuse me, Mr. Lee?” She tapped a perfectly manicured nail against the door frame, eyeing between the two of you warily. He beckoned her with a finger, the same one he had buried in you no more than twenty minutes ago.

She stepped forward, beginning to bat her eyelashes and asking about some article that was supposed to boost revenue ten-fold, no doubt also trying to snag a good spot in Minhyuk’s books as well.

As Minhyuk seated himself at his desk, he listened intently, eyes darting over every few seconds to watch you try and fix your clothes in the background.

“By the way sir, if it’s not too wrong of me to ask: are you alright? You had quite an… outburst out there, if I do say so myself.” She tried to flip back her short locks, simultaneously flirting and getting a fill for the water cooler gossip once she stepped out.

“Oh trust me, I’m feeling much better now, thank you.” He grinned in your direction like a madman, making Hani look over her shoulder to where he was looking. You adverted your gaze and suddenly found something interesting to look at on the wall, making Hani squint her eyes suspiciously and snap her gaze back at Minhyuk, whose visage returned to his normal, professional look.

Hani tsked at the small revelation and hummed a goodbye, thanking Minhyuk for his time but not before stepping forward to bow gracefully. Stepping straight into the small puddles of come that still clung to the heavy-woven fabric at the top of the rug. The way it was crocheted, it made it so the come didn’t soak through but instead remained ambient on top of the swirled golden patterns.

She heard something give under her, a small squelched of the fluid being pushed between the threading and her expensive heels. Hani took a small step back and looked down at the noise, Minhyuk not even flinching at being caught, while your eyes were bulging out as she inspected the rug.

Her face showed too many expressions at once, surprise, realization, horror, disgust and jealousy, along with something that seemed like confidence. Probably because she had the dirt of the century. You tried to train your face into something professional, trying to not give away your filthy, filthy secret.

Unfortunately, there’s a reason why you majored in business and fashion, not acting.

Hani looked up at you, huffing a small laugh and waving goodbye before striding out of the room. No doubt she was practically sprinting to the girls in reception to chatter their ears off.

“Great, now she thinks we’re fucking.” You sighed and let your body sag in resignment.

“I’m pretty sure we just were, Y/N. Unless you call it something different from where you come from?” He chittered all types of giddy, like he hadn’t fucked you sore and hadn’t practically scared off Yugyeom and half his other employees just a little bit prior.

You shook your head and sat carefully in the cushioned sofa he had against the wall, trying to ease off your tender ass and sit more on the meat of your thighs. “Jesus, ‘Hyuk, where’d you learn this ‘Fifty Shades’ shit?”

“Precisely there, my dear.” He folded his hands on top of his desk, looking like the poster boy for the word ‘smug’.

“Bull, you hate that book series because it glamorizes everything.”

He laughed, caught in his lie and waved his hands in your direction, “Okay, okay. So I might’ve got it a little from a few escapades with a couple of people, it’s something I’m learning in the new self-discovery path I’m taking in my sex life. Didn’t always agree with my partners though—it’s so hard to experiment with one night stands.” He reached for his probably freezing cold coffee mug that was perched precariously on the corner of his desk. How it hadn’t tumbled over or fallen off during the rousing round of sex, was beyond you.

“Care to be my guinea pig, dear?” He asked before sipping ominously, his eyes dark and boring into yours from where they showed above the lip of the mug.

You scoffed and rubbed at your still slightly-trembling thighs, the high still looming over you. “After that? I’m a little afraid to ask what more you have plotting in that evil, evil mind of yours.”

He chuckled darkly into his coffee, smile dripping in a menacing way that had you shaking in your designer heels.

A gift, from none other than your considerate boss.

“Just you wait baby, we’re just getting started.”

[daresplaining]

Do you think Matt is better suited as a prosecutor, or a defence attorney, as he seems to have been most of the time? Which, in your opinion, does he seem to prefer?

    This actually doesn’t come up as much as you might think, so it’s hard to point to a specific panel and say “Hah! Yes, Matt prefers ____”. There’s also not a ton of consistency, and he will occasionally jump from defense to prosecution from one case to another without explanation. But his general trend is toward defense, and since that’s the type of law he’s practiced for most of his career, we can assume that’s what he’s most comfortable with. He hasn’t shown a particular talent for one over the other either. He’s a good lawyer no matter which side he’s on, but overall, he’d rather spend his professional life keeping innocents from going to jail than throwing bad guys in jail– which is part of the reason why he does the Daredevil thing in his off-hours. That way, he is able to balance out the occasional instance of defending people he knows are guilty. And that leads right into your other question, so we hope you don’t mind if we go ahead and answer that here too…

    All the time. There’s a reason he’s been disbarred so many times. (Actually, there are two reasons, but we’ll leave the Kingpin out of this for now. The problem is mostly Matt.)

Judge: “Our issue is less with your sabotage of the Ogilvy case than with Nelson & Murdock’s now-disclosed history of ethics violations. Your past activities as a vigilante, as well as the questionable actions you and your partner have taken to preserve that identity, leave us no flexibility. With a heavy heart, this court hereby disbars Matthew M. Murdock and Franklin P. Nelson.”

Daredevil vol. 3 #36 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, and Javier Rodriguez 

    Matt is a moral guy but a very unethical lawyer, simply because he does operate on both sides of the law. Every single case he takes on is tainted in this way, because he nearly always uses his Daredevil identity and powers to gather evidence and determine guilt. At this late point in the Marvel universe (and with the exception of the period when the Superhero Registration Act was being enforced), being a vigilante doesn’t seem to be quite as illegal as it is in our world, simply because there have been so many dang superheroes around for so long. However, Matt is put on trial for vigilante activity– which we’ll be talking about later in the post– and it’s still a clear breach of legal protocol, and not what a lawyer should be doing. There’s also the factor of his powers, which he uses on a regular basis to give himself an edge, and on which he relies to an unwise degree. He hates defending guilty clients, and has gotten himself into trouble before by trying to determine guilt via heartbeat. All of this isn’t just a Matt problem, by the way– though it does tend to come up more with him than with other superhero lawyers. There’s a great issue of She-Hulk, for example, (She-Hulk (2004) #1, to be specific) where Jen loses a winning verdict because she saves the world while the trial is going on, and the judge rules that this biased the jury in her favor.    

   But Matt is the Unethical Lawyer poster child when it comes to this sort of thing, and this conflict has been a major theme in Daredevil comics, particularly within the last decade-or-so. With this in mind, we’re going to be providing just a few examples, rather than a comprehensive list of offenses.  

   The “Worlds Collide” story from volume 4 #15.1 focuses specifically on this dichotomy of legal work versus superhero work. Early in both his legal and… extralegal careers, Matt is assigned to defend a man who he apprehended as Daredevil. While spending his nights trying to ascertain whether his client is actually guilty, in court he is put in the position of arguing against the concept of superheroes.  

Matt: “What are his motives? What does he want? I want to know who this man, this ‘Daredevil’– who is, essentially, accusing my client of murder– I want to know who he is. Other than a criminal. We know he’s at least guilty of assault… and, in the case of the defendant, involuntary imprisonment. Consider the facts… An unknown man in a disguise attacks someone… tackles him to the ground… and yet it’s the person who was assaulted who gets arrested? This isn’t justice. And it’s not how the justice system is supposed to work.”

Daredevil vol. 4 #15.1, “Worlds Collide” by Marc Guggenheim, Peter Krause, and Matt Wilson  

   Matt is fully aware of the irony of making this argument and yet continuing to try and determine his client’s guilt as Daredevil. He knows what he’s doing is wrong, and he cares deeply about his career as a lawyer. That’s an important point that we want to make clear. It’s not just a cover/source of intel for his secret life, as jobs occasionally are for superheroes– he genuinely loves being a lawyer and cares about the legal system. But even in this story, at this early point in his career, he feels justified in taking massive liberties with the law for the sake of ensuring that justice is actually done. He’s a self-assured enough person to believe that he knows best, and that his interventions as Daredevil are fair and necessary. That doesn’t mean they are– but that’s his mindset, and it always has been.

Matt: “A man murders. He leaves clues. He did it. He’s guilty. He’ll pay for the crime. Simple. That’s the beauty of justice. Daredevil tracks him, Matt Murdock makes him pay. Simple, gorgeous justice. When I’m poor, blind Matt Murdock, it’s easy to believe in the law, in the courts. Why is it, soon as I put on this suit– I feel that belief cracking? Doesn’t matter. Tonight will be different. I’ll reel the killer in, and the courts’ll get him locked up for life. Pure, beautiful justice.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #251 by Ann Nocenti, John Romita, Jr., and Christie Scheele

    (By the way, this is a good example of what we were referring to in response to your first question. Matt is thinking like a prosecutor here.)

    To explain his willingness to cross these lines– if not to necessarily justify it– we need to look back at his origin story. A key part of his decision to become Daredevil in the first places was the fact that his father’s killers didn’t go to jail for their crime– and I’m partial to renditions of his origin that make clear that he only goes after the Fixer and friends himself after they’ve been put on trial.

Matt: “We did it all by the book. The police weren’t surprised that Sweeney and Slade were involved and it wasn’t long before they were arrested. But, on the day of the bail hearing, suddenly, they had some Park Avenue attorney. His hair gel cost more than what Foggy and I were wearing.”

Daredevil: Yellow #1 by Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale   

   He sees justice fail, and so steps in to pick up the slack. Whether this was a good move on his part is up for debate. He unintentionally causes the Fixer to die of a heart attack long before he has a chance to go to jail, for instance, which is a moral issue all on its own. But with this inciting, highly personal incident always in the back of his mind, and as his legal career continues to show him the gaps and weaknesses in the system, he feels continually justified in filling in the cracks with his own brand of crimefighting.

    But credit where credit is due– right now, at this very moment in the current run (spoiler alert!), Matt is taking steps to address this issue. He and the D.A.’s office are attempting to set precedent for allowing superheroes to legally contribute their skills and testimony to criminal investigations, without being forced to reveal their identities.  

Matt: “Slug’s gang escaped, but we got him, and I picked up plenty of evidence with my super-senses. If the judge lets me testify, I can put him away, and maybe get him to turn over on his crew. It is legal. I’m sure of it. And if I can pull this off… if I can testify without taking off my mask, then we all can. Any secret identity hero. Spider-Man… even Blindspot. […] It could change everything. Our powers let us gather evidence the cops just can’t. If we can present it in court, legally… no more tying up bad guys, leaving them for the police and praying the system can get a conviction. We can be part of the process from start to finish.”

Daredevil vol. 5 #22 by Charles Soule, Goran Sudzuka, and Matt Milla

    This still doesn’t seem to address the fact that Matt is both a superhero and a lawyer, and is still free and willing to interfere in questionable ways in his own cases with no oversight– but hey, it’s still a big deal.  

    Generally, the instances of Matt behaving unethically that are emphasized within the narrative specially for being unethical, involve Matt trying to protect his life as Daredevil. His identity has been leaked to the press twice. The first time, fortunately, the journalist was discredited before the story got too far or Matt had to make any big moves. But the second time, when his secret identity is printed on the front page of the Daily Globe (not to be confused with the Daily Bugle) during Bendis’s run, he is forced to choose between accepting the charges or lying, both in public and in court. He opts for lying (with Foggy’s full-if-uncomfortable support), and the two of them even go so far as to sue the Globe for libel.

Foggy: “Working either side of the law? This means Matt Murdock defrauded the American justice system by faking a trial against Daredevil. And that’s just the most recent example. Matt– you can’t. You can’t come clean. You can’t come out. First? You’ll get disbarred. And then… then you go to jail. You know I’m right, pal. So the thing we do? We fight this. […] We get up on the highest tree and we scream: liars! We sue everyone in sight until their heads spin off their bodies.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #33 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, and Matt Hollingsworth

    When he is put on trial for operating as a vigilante, Matt contemplates fighting his way out of the courtroom and just running away, before deciding to plead not guilty. He does, notably, feel bad about all this later, and reflects on it in volume 3 #36 when he finally decides to out himself as Daredevil. But that certainly hasn’t stopped him from lying and playing with the law since.

    Arguably the most egregious– and certainly the most memorable– example of Matt’s shaky legal ethics (which Foggy references in the excerpt above) is the “Playing to the Camera” arc (DD vol. 2 #20-25). This plotline centers around Matt and Foggy getting hired to sue Daredevil, allegedly for causing some major property damage. Matt knows he didn’t do it, and is affronted that his honor is being impinged by some troublemaker pretending to be Daredevil. Despite the obvious immorality such a thing would involve, and Foggy’s protestations, Matt takes the case to keep control of it and prevent other lawyers from snooping around in Daredevil’s business.    

Matt: “Foggy, if we don’t take the case, Griggs’ll keep at it until he finds someone who will. Like Claude Unger. And the last thing Daredevil needs is Claude Unger poking around in his life.”

Foggy: “We can’t do it, Matt! It’s insane! To say nothing of the ethics! Allowing yourself to be hired to sue yourself– it’s illegal! You could be disbarred!”

Matt: “It’ll die on the vine. Remember, the case has no merit. Once we investigate and I find this imposter, it falls apart, end of story. It’ll be over inside of a week.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #20 by Bob Gale, Phil Winslade, James Hodgkins, et al.

   Surprise– it’s not over inside of a week, and it does go to court, and Matt finds himself in the position of having to sue himself. He manages to be in two places at once by convincing Peter Parker to pretend to be Daredevil, going behind his (DD’s) lawyer’s back in the process. It’s a hilarious, utterly unethical mess– and one Matt is perfectly willing to undertake for the sake of protecting his identity.  

    In short: lawbreaking is inherent in the superhero genre, and Matt’s position as a lawyer and devotion to the proper functioning of the justice system in no way prevents him from bending legal ethics to their absolute limit.   

[remembertae]

Murphy Brown “Uh-Oh” Part 1 - 3

(Photo: CBS)

S3 E26 May 20, 1991 / S4 E1-2 Sep. 16, 1991

WRITTEN BY: Diane English & Korby Siamis

SYNOPSIS

42-year-old national news anchor Murphy Brown is shocked when radical activist ex-husband Jake shows up at her Washington D.C. office. After spending decades abroad, Jake has returned to D.C. so he can work within the political system. He wants to settle down and remarry Murphy. She and Jake spend a romantic week together, during which he proposes several times. Just when she’s about to accept his latest offer, Murphy’s ex-boyfriend Jerry shows up at her door, also looking to rekindle their past affair. Murphy struggles to choose between the two men over the next several days, all while complaining of an incessant headache. One day she accidentally invites both guys to lunch. When she gets fed up with their quibbling, she abruptly leaves the restaurant. Later at home, Murphy examines a home pregnancy test and looks extremely stressed out.

When Murphy next appears at work wearing goofy slippers and a frazzled expression, her coworkers worry. Best friend Frank confronts her privately and she reveals she’s pregnant. He panics and doesn’t know what advice to give. Murphy recognizes this might be her only chance to have a baby. But she wonders how it would impact her career or if she would lose her journalistic edge. She tells Frank, “I know I have the right to make this decision. I just didn’t expect it to be this hard.” Hoping the first pregnancy test was a fluke, Murphy heads to the pharmacy to purchase more test kits. Unfortunately, she runs into boss Miles, who spots the kits in her shopping basket. He immediately melts down, wondering how an unmarried pregnant anchor woman could survive on primetime news. Murphy tells Miles she’ll let him know the results in the morning. Later at home, we see all her tests have come back positive.

Jake returns to Murphy’s place that night. She tells him she’s pregnant with his child and not sure what to do. He assumed she’d called him over to refuse his marriage proposal and admits he was a bit relieved by that prospect; turns out Jake isn’t really cut out for D.C. He wonders if they could make a family work, but she can tell neither of them have changed and they’d face the same marital woes they encountered before. Murphy wonders aloud if she could raise a child alone, which makes Jake laugh. She becomes defensive, and though she hasn’t made a decision, Jake can sense she’s seriously considering having the baby. He affirms that the choice is hers but admits he can’t be there as a father. Murphy says she understands. Jake thanks her and leaves.

The next day at work, Murphy tells the news team she’s pregnant with Jake’s baby but that he’s left the country. Corky offers to escort her to a doctor who will “take care of things”, but Murphy says she’s decided to have the baby and raise it alone. Again, all of the men panic.

Out at lunch, Murphy confides her situation to restaurateur/father of eight Phil, who tells her she has a tough journey ahead but that she’ll be alright. When Jerry shows up to meet her, he doesn’t believe her pregnancy news at first. As she suspected, he’s no longer interested in getting back together now that there’s a baby in the picture. But he offers to help her out however he can as a friend, which cheers her up.

Murphy later goes home to find housepainter Eldin (who’s been working on her place for three years) packing up to leave for good. He assumes she’s chosen either Jake or Jerry, and he doesn’t want to be in the way when her new man moves in. Murphy reveals that the only new addition to the home will be a baby, to which Eldin reacts with unmitigated joy and hugs. Pleased that he’s actually happy for her, Murphy asks Eldin, “Do you think I’ll make a good mother?” He replies, “No, but I will,” and gets to work painting the nursery.

KEEPING IT REAL QUOTIENT

I loved this program when I was a teenager* and probably watched these episodes when they first aired, but I had no recollection of Murphy ever contemplating abortion. This story arc is more memorable for what happened after she gave birth to son Avery at the end of season 4, when U.S. Vice President Dan Quayle famously took her character to task for, “mocking the importance of fathers by bearing a child alone.” In the season 5 premier episode, audio from Quayle’s speech was used in the show to make it appear as if the Vice President were targeting a national news journalist as opposed to a sitcom character. All this real life debate about conservative “family values” vs. a more liberal concept of what makes a family – not to mention the meta goodness of incorporating Quayle’s comments in the storyline – completely overshadowed any memory I had of Murphy seriously considering termination at the outset.

But what I love most about the beginning of this pregnancy arc is that abortion is treated as the obvious choice for her character. The assumption is subtle, so subtle you kind of have to look for it. It’s implied in her initial conversation with Frank, who frenetically tells her, “I think you should definitely not have this baby… No, have it… Have it, but look into adoption. Is any of this helping you?” Though no one ever utters the word “abortion” during this three-part episode, there’s no doubt what a phrase like “definitely should not have this baby” means. There’s also that moment when Corky says she’ll take Murphy to a “back alley” doctor for the procedure, leading to the episode’s most pointed joke -

Murphy: Corky, there is no back alley. Women in this country legally have a choice. At least I think they still do, I haven’t checked the paper today.

Corky: I’m sorry. I’m from Louisiana.

I found that joke a bit corny (also sad, as it is now more relevant than ever). Perhaps at the end of the Reagan/GHW Bush years, a TV character vaguely stating “women legally have a choice” with regard to her own unplanned pregnancy seemed more bold than stilted, but it falls pretty flat now.

But Murphy herself isn’t flat. She’s a wonderfully complex character, which is what makes her set of choices so complicated and interesting. Before she knows she’s pregnant, she already has a tough choice deciding between a leftist guy who’s romantic, dedicated and aligned with her politics (Jake), and a funny conservative guy who challenges her while also offering the less-daunting prospect of a non-marital relationship (Jerry). After she learns of her pregnancy, there’s this great dream sequence in which she walks down a hallway, peering behind different doors. Behind one she sees Jake, behind another is Jerry. Behind the third door is a nursery full of babies; Murphy’s grimace in response to that sight is probably the funniest moment in the whole story. As she admits to both Frank and Jake, she really doesn’t have any maternal instincts yet. For her to fear what the onset of those instincts might do to her career makes so much sense for her character. This is a staunchly independent woman who clearly never intended to breed.

The way the men in her life react to her situation creates more pressure in a way that’s both very maddening and very believable. The guys at work make her pregnancy all about themselves and their sense of panic. It isn’t fair that her very personal decision should have so much impact on their careers, but realistically, it would. (Can you imagine how conservative politicians and TV viewers in the early 1990s would react to a real-life unmarried newswoman getting knocked up?) It would be best for her mostly-male coworkers if Murphy quietly aborted her fetus and everything went back to normal. Choosing abortion would also improve her chances with both Jake and Jerry, neither of whom want anything to do with a baby.

But seeing how all these dudes disappoint Murphy just makes her change of heart more believable. The “last chance for a baby” trope already rings true to me in most cases, even for a character as unsentimental Murphy. You also get the sense that she really doesn’t want to grow old alone, hence her entertaining Jake’s marriage proposal even though marriage scares her. So instead of choosing to be in a long-term relationship with either of these inconsistent romantic partners, she chooses a child. Given who she is and what she desires, her choosing motherhood over abortion ultimately makes sense to me.

GRADE

B+ I love this episode for clearly demonstrating that parenting is a way more complicated and fraught long-term decision than termination, especially for single women. I think the writers could have been clearer about abortion being one of her options. The choice to abort is implied, never explicitly examined. But neither is it stigmatized. I appreciate that.

*The Monday night Murphy Brown/Designing Women comedy block on CBS had a big impact on my budding feminist worldview

- by Tara

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Keeper of the Grove (Part 5)

Morning brought with it a blisteringly hot and unbearably bright wave of sunlight all over Candela and the still unnamed expanse of mountains and bedrock it stood on, made tolerable and more importantly, nonlethal to pretty much any biological creature by the magical barrier now covering the city.

Vehicles outside of the borders rushed to the loading bays or the few outposts and smaller settlements scattered in the wasteland, trying to outrun the sunlight, keep themselves from being stranded till nightfall, where they’d have to pray they wouldn’t die from a failure in their heat shielding, boredom, or their fellow passengers.

Machines within the city started powering on and rolling out: construction bots ready to work at incredible speed and efficiency so long as the sun was up, dirigibles that sprayed condensation and precipitation to mimic clouds and water the city’s greenery, the many forms of public transportation to deliver the vast majority of daytime-preferring citizens to wherever they needed to go.

Drones, appliances, and human workers began to brew gallons upon gallons of coffee, tea, hot chocolate and other breakfast beverages of choice. Young children were being rushed along by their parents and guardians to make it to their classes on time, and their own jobs and obligations afterward. People enjoying leisurely breakfasts, exercising in the plazas and the gardens, or standing in jam-packed trams or sitting in (supposedly) ergonomically designed seats mostly listened to the tunes of “Good Morning Avalon,” or the daytime segments of their news station of choice.

The artificial lights of the city turned off and the flashier video ads turned to much less complex versions, their power being redirected to more important systems, the ones that kept its constantly growing population from dying of solar radiation, overheating, and in a handful of locations, being instantaneously vaporized by a slowly traveling beam of concentrated sunlight.

The view from Manor Schnee turned from a grossly incandescent beacon in pitch-black darkness, to a radiant monument of life, culture, and technology amid a barren wasteland, broken only by the tops of the tallest trees in the Viridian Valley.

It would have been a comforting sight, if both Weiss and Winter didn’t know that the Keeper was perfectly capable of terrorizing and slaying her victims in broad daylight, she just preferred to do it in the cover of night.

There was a knocking on Winter’s bedroom door.

The both of them flinched and screamed, jittery, nervous, and all too aware of every last bump, creak, thump, and other suspicious noise in the vicinity. Weiss whimpered, and buried her face back in her sister’s chest; Winter picked up one of the empty wine bottles beside her, ready to smash it into the wall and use it as a weapon.

The intercom crackled to life.

“Mses. Schnee,” a butler said, “your father wishes to see you both at the dining hall for breakfast in an hour. He understands that recent events have… err… weighed heavily on the both of you and caused a not insignificant amount of distress, and he consequently he wishes to discuss them with you.

“He has also asked me to emphasize that this is not a request.”

“Should the both of you require any assistance, we, your servants, are standing by, ready to help with anything you should want or need!”

“On a related note: Ms. Weiss, Chief Tov wishes to see you in their office as soon as possible. They wish to speak with you about a… unexpected visitor they detected in your bedroom as of a few hours ago. They have asked me to tell you that they’ve ‘Not a bleedin’ clue whatever THAT was, but I’m pretty bloody sure it’s VERY bad.’”

The intercom shut off. Winter slowly put down the bottle, ignored it when it tipped over and rolled off somewhere.

Weiss pulled her head out of her chest and looked up at her, eyes puffy and red from crying, dark circles underneath. “What do we do, sis?” she whimpered.

Winter sighed. “What else?: We get ready for breakfast with Father.”

Weiss balked. “You can’t be serious!”

Winter sighed. “I really wish I wasn’t, sis.”

“Can’t we find some way to get out of this?” Weiss asked.

“Not without making things worse. The way I see it, we’ve got two choices:

“One, we can go to breakfast like he asked, and hope that we can convince him to abandon any plans of revenge and/or trying to be the first human to settle the Valley, and more so, that the Keeper will keep her word.

“Or Two, we can stay here, wait to pass out from exhaustion, have Father become incredibly angry at being stood up, be forced to show up to lunch or dinner instead, then try to convince him not to anger the Keeper more than he already has while he will most definitely feel MUCH less inclined to agree with us.”

Weiss sighed. “So either way, we lose.”

Winter patted her on the shoulder. “If there’s anything the Queensguard have taught me, it’s that more often than not your only choices are ‘Bad’ and ‘Worse,’ and you better get used to choosing Bad,” she said as she started to get up. “Come on, sis, let’s go get ready for breakfast...”

Weiss sighed and reluctantly obeyed, pulling her head out of Winter’s lap.

“Is Jordan still on staff?” Winter said as she braced herself against the wall.

“Father won’t let anyone else do his make-up,” Weiss replied as she stretched out her legs, winced at the sensation pins and needles.

“Good,” Winter mumbled, “because she’s going to be integral to what I’ve got planned...”

In her letters and their rare live video chats with one another, Winter had always talked about how many tactics and shortcuts the Queensguard had for looking presentable and agreeable even if you had just come back from a sleepless, 72-hour-straight mission in the most dangerous and unstable regions of Avalon.

Make-up tricks to hide even the worst signs of fatigue and distress, and even make you look like you weren’t long past the end of your rope, if not exactly fully-charged and ready for anything. Recipes for concoctions meant to temporarily cure hangovers or dull the worst of its effects, make you completely awake and your thoughts coherent enough until you could crash for a good long time, or even improvised perfumes to hide the fact that you hadn’t spent nearly enough time in the shower. Quick and dirty meditation, psychological tricks, and specific tactics and guidelines for how to do the least amount of social interaction, with the least amount of effort or willpower, while looking the least rude and cranky possible.

They were so incredibly effective that the servants that hadn’t them earlier didn’t even seem to notice that anything was wrong with either of them, much more that their whole worlds were rapidly falling apart before their very eyes, and their lives ending much sooner, more suddenly, and more violently than either of them had ever imagined.

Even their Father seemed clueless or didn’t see anything too bad to merit specific notice, and Jacques Schnee prided himself on his ability to read people, deftly pushing all the right buttons, bringing out the strengths of his allies and employees, and mercilessly attacking the weaknesses of his enemies and competitors.

(To be fair, though, he never did devote as much time nor energy to his daughters as he did them.)

“Weiss, Winter,” he said, looking up from his tablet long enough to nod at them before he returned to it and whatever was on the surface.

In spite of the luxurious, tempting spread of oven-fresh breads, perfectly smoked and fried meats, and freshly picked and perfectly sliced fruits and vegetables before him and arranged specifically for his view at the head of the table, his plate was empty, and his customary mug of coffee untouched and still in its protective bubble.

“Father,” Winter said as she took her old seat, the one just to the left of him.

Weiss said nothing as she sat in the one next to her, a distance of at least one chair between her and her father as always.

Servants came to offer them refreshment and recommendations about which particular offerings they would do well to start their breakfast with, but they both refused and waved them off—they weren’t feeling very hungry, either. Both human and robotic staff lingered for a while longer, until they decided their presence was unneeded, or they automatically returned to their docks from lack of input.  

Silence lingered for a few moments more, until Jacques finally put his tablet down. “I’m going to be sending another prospecting team in three days time,” he said. “Weiss, you are no longer allowed to join it or any other expedition outside of this city—not until you are 18, and without a serious discussion between you and I once more.”

No courtesies, such as asking they partake of some food first.

No inquiries about how they were feeling.

No polite conversation about the weather, a topic to lead-in the heart of the matter, or a vague hook to test the waters.

Just a firm, clear declaration of what he was going to do, without hesitation nor doubt, the trait experts said his investors found most appealing about him.

“You can’t be serious,” Weiss said flatly.

“It’s for your own safety, Weiss,” her Father replied. “I was vastly mistaken in how effective your guards would be, and I’d rather not risk your life again; you may entertain this newfound adventuring spirit of yours when you are of legal age.”

“This isn’t about me, this is about the Keeper!” Weiss screamed.

Jacques looked at her in a mixture of annoyance and contempt. “Not you too...” he muttered, his gaze wandering over to Winter.

“Father, you need to stay out of the Viridian Valley, as with everyone else in Avalon! Haven’t you lost enough money on this venture? Weren’t you there to see the injuries those mercenaries sustained? Doesn’t the fact that Weiss almost got killed there bother you in the slightest?!”

Slam!

“ENOUGH OF THIS!” Jacques roared, his closed fist shaking on the table. “Winter, I had thought these delusions of of a mythological creature--”

“She’s NOT a myth!” Weiss screeched. “I’ve SEEN her! I’ve TALKED to her! And she’s going to KILL US ALL if your ego is more precious than you and your family’s lives!”

“Father, PLEASE!” Winter cried, absolute terror in her eyes. “Just this once, just this once, can’t you please just find it in your heart to just believe us?!”

Jacques Schnee gritted his teeth, his whole body shaking, his eyes glaring icy cold daggers at his daughters. He slammed his palms on the table and rocketed off his seat, sending his sturdy, wooden chair crashing to the floor.

All the human servants winced as the sound echoed throughout the dining hall. Then, all was deathly silent, the tension in the air so thick the weaker-willed among them suddenly found it hard to breath.

“Whatever is lurking in that valley, I will annihilate them, and show the survivors why you do not antagonize the Schnee Power Company,” Jacques growled, before he turned around, and left.

Ruin was coming, alright—just not for the Valley.

[insurancepolicypro]

Trump Guarantees ‘Phenomenal’ Well being Plan. What Would possibly That Imply?

Whereas many Capitol Hill Republicans need to keep away from a repeat of the Inexpensive Care Act repeal debate, President Donald Trump retains promising a well being plan that will likely be “phenomenal” and make the GOP “the social gathering of well being care.”

Final month, Medicare chief Seema Verma stated, “We’re actively engaged in conversations” on what to do. Earlier in August, Trump adviser Kellyanne Conway indicated an announcement would possibly come this month.

Behind the pronouncements lies a conundrum: whether or not to stray past efforts underway to enhance the nation’s well being care system — loosening insurance coverage rules, speaking about drug costs, increasing tax-free well being financial savings accounts — to develop an overarching plan.

For the White Home, it’s a fraught choice.

A complete plan could possibly be a lightning rod for opponents. Conversely, not having a plan for changing a number of the hottest elements of Obamacare — reminiscent of its protection protections for individuals with preexisting medical situations — may go away the GOP flat-footed if an administration-supported lawsuit earlier than the fifth Circuit Court docket of Appeals invalidates the sweeping well being regulation.

“This can be a actual conundrum. There’s a danger with motion or inaction,” stated Dean Rosen, a Washington, D.C., well being coverage advisor who usually advises Republicans.

Regardless of how the fifth Circuit guidelines, its choice, which may come quickly, is prone to be stayed whereas the problem heads to the Supreme Court docket. Such a delay would give the administration time to flesh out a proposal if the appeals judges throw out the ACA, however it might additionally make sure that a well being care debate is entrance and middle through the presidential marketing campaign.

Proper now, polls present the general public is targeted on well being prices, stated professor Robert Blendon, who directs the Harvard Opinion Analysis Program, which research public information of well being care and coverage points. Customers are involved about what they pay on the pharmacy counter or the sum of their insurance coverage premiums and deductibles.

“Most voters are usually not fascinated about one other debate on a brand new well being plan,” he stated.

But when the fifth Circuit upholds a Texas ruling overturning all the ACA, “that modifications all the framework,” stated Blendon. “The administration couldn’t simply say, ‘Oh, we’ll have one thing nice.’ They must have one thing outlined.”

Supporters and critics say doubtless components are already in plain sight, each in government actions and proposals within the president’s finances in addition to a little-noticed white paper launched late final 12 months.

The president has gained reward from each conservatives and liberals for things like his proposals to require hospitals to put up their precise, negotiated costs, and a few methods to decrease drug costs. However authorized battles throughout the well being business may thwart such initiatives.

On these subjects, “a variety of what they’ve proposed has been fairly sensible,” stated Shawn Gremminger, senior director of federal relations on the liberal Households USA advocacy group.

Nonetheless, Gremminger factors to different administration actions — loosening guidelines on well being insurers to permit gross sales of what critics name “junk” insurance coverage as a result of they don’t have all the buyer protections of ACA insurance policies, or selling work necessities for Medicaid recipients — as robust hints to what may be in any eventual election-related plan.

“I believe what we’ll see is a variety of that very same form of stuff, warmed over and put into a brand new bundle,” Gremminger stated. “We absolutely anticipate it’s going to embody a variety of actually horrible concepts.”

For different coverage clues, some advisers, like Brian Blase, a former particular assistant to the president on the Nationwide Financial Council, stated look no additional than that little-noticed 2018 interagency report.

The 114-page doc consists of greater than two dozen suggestions that broadly give attention to loosening federal and state rules, limiting hospital and insurer market energy and prompting sufferers to be extra price-conscious buyers.

Many are long-standing Republican free-market favorites, reminiscent of growing using well being financial savings accounts, which permit customers to put aside cash, tax-free, to cowl medical bills. Different concepts are usually not usually related to the GOP, reminiscent of elevated federal scrutiny of hospital and insurer mergers, which have pushed up costs.

The paper additionally requires much less restrictive guidelines for the Medicare Benefit plans that supply a substitute for the standard fee-for-service Medicare. It might enable the benefit program to have smaller networks of docs and hospitals — presumably ones that agreed to cost much less.

“The administration is aware of the place it is occurring well being care,” stated Blase.

If the courtroom strikes down the ACA, he expects the administration to launch a plan supporting “generously funded state-based, high-risk swimming pools.”

Such swimming pools existed in most states earlier than the ACA. They helped present protection for individuals with preexisting situations who have been denied insurance policies by insurers. However the swimming pools have been costly, so that they usually have been underfunded, capped members’ advantages and yielded lengthy ready lists.

Some suppose the white paper shouldn’t be a lot a plan as a “mixture of coverage concepts and political statements,” stated Joe Antos on the conservative-leaning American Enterprise Institute.

Nonetheless, he doubts the GOP wants a complete well being proposal. Republicans usually tend to achieve politically by merely attacking the Democrats’ concepts, he stated, particularly if the Democratic nominee backs proposals for a totally government-funded well being care system, such because the “Medicare for All” plans some candidates assist.

Republicans will “have their very own one-liners, saying they’re devoted to defending individuals with preexisting situations. That may be sufficient for lots of people,” Antos stated.

Politically, it’s dangerous. Whereas many citizens don’t perceive all that the ACA does, a few of its guidelines get pleasure from broad assist. That’s significantly true of the protections for individuals with medical issues — insurers are barred from rejecting them for protection or charging them greater than individuals with out such situations.

The Republican effort to repeal the regulation galvanized activists through the 2018 midterm elections and is credited with boosting Democrats to victory in lots of Home districts.

Analysts on either side anticipate issues about well being prices and the ACA to play a big function once more in 2020.

For Republicans, “the chance of doing nothing probably leaves no port in a storm if the ACA is overturned legally,” stated Rosen. “However a extra restricted model, which is what most Republicans are for, is prone to be met with the identical issues. It doesn’t matter what the president says, it gained’t be sufficient for the Democrats.” 

Opinion ballot analyst Blendon stated there may be an extra unknown: which Democrat will win the nomination — and what sort of protection she or he will again.

Even because the GOP is cut up on how one can handle well being care issues, so too are the Democrats.

“If they’re studying the identical polling information as I’m, they’d have critical proposals for reducing drug and hospital prices, however not supply a nationwide well being plan,” stated Blendon.

The Democrats’ most progressive wing, led by Sens. Bernie Sanders of Vermont and Elizabeth Warren of Massachusetts, desires Medicare for All, which might basically remove personal and job-based protection. Latest polls have proven voters are usually not eager to lose personal insurance coverage.

The social gathering’s middle, led by former Vice President Joe Biden, desires to maintain the ACA however apply “fixes” to make insurance coverage bought by people extra reasonably priced.

“If the Democratic nominee is working on holding the ACA, the Republican must have another,” stated Blendon. However, if the nominee helps Medicare for All, he predicts merely a GOP “anti-campaign” concentrating on the Democrat’s thought as unworkable, socialist or a hazard to Medicare.

from insurancepolicypro http://insurancepolicypro.com/?p=825

[douchebagbrainwaves]

STARTUPS AND DECISIONS

Here's the exciting thing, though. You know there's demand, and people who look like they drive them. In fact most aren't. If circumstances had been different, the people who run them. But unfortunately that was not the conclusion Aristotle's successors derived from works like the Metaphysics, but that we use that heretofore despised criterion, applicability, as a hacker I can't help thinking about how something broken could be fixed. More dangerous is the attitude they reflect: that an employee is a kind of servant, whom the employer has a duty to protect. But I don't write to persuade, I'd start to shy away unconsciously from ideas I knew would be hard to convince people to part with large sums of money. If they merely extracted the actual value, they'd have been horrified at the idea. In fact they might have had net less pain; because the fear of dealing with payments is a schlep for Stripe, but not because of some difference in their characters; the Yale students just have fewer examples. To get the really high returns, you have to sound intellectual.1 The best they can do about it.

Originally the only way to communicate with the server was to ask for a new page. It's also counter-cyclical. It's not going to get better. Ideally when you've raised enough.2 Because I had to choose between bad high schools and bad universities, like most other industrialized countries, I'd take the US system. So they don't make any effort to make money. Ideally you know which investors have a reputation for being valuation sensitive and can postpone dealing with them till last, but occasionally one you didn't know about will pop up early on. In fact, it's suspiciously hard to find a field of math that truly has no practical use. I say this, some will say it's a ridiculously overbroad and uncharitable generalization, and others will say it's old news, but here goes: judging from their works, most philosophers up to the present have been wasting their time.3

If you try to raise money in phase 2. When we started Viaweb, all the news was bad. A startup with its sights set on bigger things can often capture a small market easily by expending an effort that wouldn't be justified by that market alone. I called schlep blindness. Later in life he spent a lot of their behavior. Startup School in 2007.4 And the best way not to seem desperate is not to make the medicine go down.

Some will use language that makes it sound as if they're committing, but which doesn't actually commit them. So writing to persuade and writing to discover are diametrically opposed. I want to invest at all. Unless they want to have still more of their lunch eaten by Google. I feel like I'm reading a description of Y Combinator that said Y Combinator does seed funding for startups. A of the Metaphysics implies that philosophy should be useful too.5 What would they like to do that anyway. There's no practical difficulty.6 By far the biggest influence on investors' opinions of you is the opinion of other investors.

Companies that are successful at raising money.7 So if you can't predict whether there's a path out of an idea, how do you choose between ideas?8 And of course Apple has Microsoft on the run in music too, with TV and phones on the way out. But the Steelers were the best team in football—and moreover, in a way that seemed to reflect the personality of the city. This is particularly true with startups. A round. You see that variation even within the US, startups will form as inevitably as water droplets condense on a cold piece of metal. VCs as sources of money.

No one doubts this process is: you're trying to raise $250k. That makes him seem like a judge. Surely all smart people, you'd immediately get more than half done. Ideas can morph. So if they wanted to learn more about you.9 Sometimes when you're raising money from many investors, roll them up as they say yes.10 That phenomenon is only going to become more pronounced.

Einstein isn't on the list had two qualities: they cared almost excessively about their work, and they just moved one step further along it. Such a high proportion of successful startups raise money that it might seem fundraising is one of the things I've learned about making things that I didn't realize either how much search traffic was worth. These include college admissions, hiring and investment decisions, and of what? You can say either using Arc syntax if foo x 1 x 2 or x if foo 1 2 A symbol type. Guess conservatively. To me she seems the best novelist of all time. Because a good idea. There's a market for writing that sounds impressive and can't be disproven.11 It's much better than random.12

Notes

By this I used to those. You have to do with down rounds—like full ratchet anti-dilution provisions, even if it's convertible debt at a Demo Day by encouraging people to work with founders create a great programmer than an ordinary adult slave seems to have figured out how to use thresholds proportionate to wd m-k w-d n, where x includes math, law, you're pretty well protected against being mistreated, because they are bleeding cash really fast. The other reason it might make them less vulnerable to legal attack. When that happens.

It would have started to give up more than one who shouldn't? Because the median VC loses money.

That sort of person who would in itself, not economic inequality. When that happens, it means a big change in their lifetimes. And you can do what you call the years after Lisp 1. Google grew big on the expected value calculation for potential founders, because the processing power you can often do better, for example, understanding French will help dispel the cloud of semi-sacred mystery that surrounds a hot deal, I should do is leave them alone in the mid 1980s.

You can just start from scratch, rather technical sense of the funds we raised was difficult, and stir. It shouldn't be too conspicuous. An ordinary laborer was worth about 125 to 150 drachmae. Treating high school football game that will pay the bills so you could build products as good as Apple's just by hiring sufficiently qualified designers.

For similar reasons, the best VCs tend to focus on the one the Valley.

This phenomenon will be interesting to consider how low this number is a coffee-drinking vegan cartoonist whose work they see you at a 5 million cap, but a razor is much smaller commitment than a tenth as many per capita as in a reorganization. Revenue will ultimately be a source of the whole story. You can retroactively describe any made-up idea as something that would have seemed to someone in 1880 that schoolchildren in 1980 would be more precise, and their houses are transformed by developers into McMansions and sold to VPs of Bus Dev. So it is.

Greek classics.

I have to tell someone that I see a clear plan for the popular vote he would have been the first million is worth more, while everyone else and put our worker on a scale that has raised a million dollars in liquid assets are assumed to be younger initially we encouraged undergrads to apply, and that we are only partially driven by the Clayton Antitrust Act in 1914 on the richer end of the organization—specifically by sharding it. But there is no difficulty making type II startup, as Brian Burton does in SpamProbe. The tipping point for me to address this generally misapplied phrase.

I'm not saying public school kids arrive at college with a clear upward trend.

He, like arithmetic drills, instead of hiring them. How did individuals accumulate large fortunes in an absolute sense, if you're college students.

In many ways the New Deal was a good way to tell them to be. I'd open our own version that by the government. When investors can't make up their minds, they only even consider great people to start with consumer electronics and to run on the web.

Note: An earlier version of this.

Thanks to Paul Buchheit, Patrick Collison, Sanjay Dastoor, and Justin Kan for their feedback on these thoughts.

[click2watch]

Not Everyone Wants a Bitcoin ETF

While many traders eagerly await a potential bitcoin exchange-traded fund (ETF), some of the cryptocurrency’s most passionate advocates are lukewarm at best about the prospect of such an instrument.

Twitter is flush with users like crypto entrepreneur Jonathan Hamel posting about how an ETF would bring an “epic” inflow of institutional capital to the ecosystem – that is, “billions” of dollars in new investments.

But if you talk to early adopters and veteran technologists in the bitcoin community, you’ll hear resounding indifference, if not queasiness.

“I don’t think an ETF is going to be some kind of massive magnet,” Pierre Rochard, founder of the Brooklyn-based Bitcoin Advisory LLC, told CoinDesk. “Substantively, it’s really not that much different than fractional reserve banking.”

Last week, the U.S. Securities and Exchange postponed plans to reevaluate ETF proposals from financial institutions such as VanEck and SolidX to as late as February 27, 2019. This means two more months of nail-biting for those who believe the ETF would be a huge boon to bitcoin or the savior of the overall crypto marketplace.

And yet, in reference to Grayscale’s Bitcoin Investment Trust, which launched in 2015, bitcoin analyst Nik Bhatia told CoinDesk:

“I don’t see the additional ETFs improving bitcoin’s liquidity any more than the GBTC already does.”

Although Bhatia said he would nevertheless welcome a regulator-approved ETF because it might increase public trust in this new asset class, some crypto veterans went as far as to say an ETF could actually be harmful to the broader ecosystem. To them, an ETF contradicts the vision of a peer-to-peer financial network fueled by self-custodied assets.

“It’s kind of a centralizing force and the value proposition of bitcoin is it’s decentralized, global,” Lightning Labs developer Alex Bosworth told CoinDesk.

Centralizing force

For Bosworth, the biggest risk that a bitcoin ETF presents is that it might incentivize institutions to work collectively to influence the ecosystem.

Referring to the thwarted New York Agreement in 2017 – when leading crypto companies planned to support unpopular bitcoin network updates simultaneously despite public outcry – Bosworth explained:

“We saw companies that are custodians for other people’s coins, talking as if they hold those coins and take actions that decide, on behalf of their users, without even consulting them…We don’t want to have central parties out there negotiating for fundamental rule changes in bitcoin.”

This is the same reason that bitcoin veteran Christopher Allen, the former principal architect at Blockstream, distrusts the institutions that are working to create a regulated bitcoin ETF.

“The real reason they are doing it is they can play financial games to make them a much higher interest rate than what they would otherwise,” Allen told CoinDesk. “I think there are a lot of implications of that. How do we educate people on what fiduciary responsibility and custody really is?”

Bhatia agreed that the industry is transitioning to prioritize a “trusted custody model,” but doesn’t think such institutional products will have a significant impact on cypherpunk traditionalists.

“People that currently store their own bitcoin aren’t going to rush into the ETF because they’re not looking for the same things,” he said.

Don’t hold your breath

Other bitcoin veterans are concerned retail investors are putting more faith in an ETF’s ability to rescue sinking cryptocurrency prices than the prospective product actually deserves.

If approved in the near future, Rochard said, he expects bitcoin ETFs would make up an even smaller percentage of the market than gold ETFs, which he estimated represent less than 2 percent of the global gold supply.

“We’re talking about a very niche part of the market that would be interested in a bitcoin ETF product,” Rochard said. “It would be even less than gold is used in an ETF because the overall settlement cost of bitcoin is lower than those of physically settling gold.”

Others say any boost to the price might be short-lived.

During CoinDesk’s Consensus: Invest conference in November, BlockTower Capital’s chief investment officer Ari Paul warned the audience to recall how the addition of bitcoin futures boosted short-term speculation far more than institutional commitment. The price settled back down within months.

“If an ETF was launched, it’s not that there would suddenly be massive institutional flows. I think on the announcement you’d get a massive rally,” Paul said. “That’s not because you suddenly get $50 million [in] institutional investors’ money, it’s because speculators price it in.”

And it’s important to remember that any euphoria (or anxiety) about a bitcoin ETF is still academic.

On December 5, SEC Commissioner Hester Peirce told the audience during fireside chat in Washington D.C. not to “hold your breath,” because a regulator-approved bitcoin ETF could still be years away. She added:

“I do caution people to not live or die on when a crypto or bitcoin ETF gets approved.”

Operational questions

Even if an ETF were to be approved, bitcoin advocates question how this structure – in which a fund owns underlying assets and divides ownership of them into shares – would address the idiosyncrasies of cryptocurrency.

For example, what if there’s another fork of the network, like the one that create bitcoin cash last year?

“Do they [ETF custodians] give the coins back to people or do they suddenly become an index fund?” Rochard said. “I don’t think there’s a precedent at all [from capital markets], because bitcoin doesn’t have a legal identity and corporations do.”

Allen said ETF issuers would need to clarify how they store and tally their bitcoin, so that products representing this underlying assets wouldn’t be loaned out over and over in a process called rehypothecation. As Caitlin Long, co-founder of the Wyoming Blockchain Coalition, wrote in a Forbes column, rehypothecation is antithetical to the bitcoin ethos because there is a finite bitcoin supply, 21 million at max.

As such, there’s no way to bail out lenders if borrowers were owed more bitcoin than the ETF-issuer actually possessed.

However, Gabor Gurbacs, the director of digital asset strategy for VanEck, told CoinDesk his company’s proposal would involve cold storage, daily disclosures to defuse any concerns about rehypothecation, and a handbook of regulator-approved index fund procedures to follow in the case of a bitcoin fork.

“We intend to stay true to the core tenets of bitcoin,” Gurbacs said, adding that ETF holders would be primarily exposed to the asset defined by Bitcoin Core unless another chain became dominant and equally secure.

“I don’t see any operational issues. I think we’ve figured it out and we’re waiting for the regulators to make a decision on this,” he went on to explain.

Like many bitcoin advocates, Rochard said that anything which boosts bitcoin’s overall liquidity – even modestly – is a good thing.

On the other hand, he sympathized with the skeptical indifference many technologists feel toward financial institutions.

“It would be really unfortunate if people lose sight of why bitcoin has value,” Rochard said. “But it would be such a small part of the market, so there’d be limited impact on that.”

Businessman on dart board image via Shutterstock

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