#Assignment help in Colorado

[hellothetutorshelp-blog]

[wildflowerluver]

all i need to hear

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

aaron’s comfort is all you need

cw: one bed + nightmare trope, friends to lovers-ish, nightmare, case details, reader gets injured

wc: 3.8k

༺♡༻

everyone’s allowed to have a tough case. 

j.j. experiences it most with children and rossi with people he’s dealt with in his earlier times at the bau, but you, nothing really seems to stop you. it’s remarkable, really. 

this case seems to be the exception.

the team is sent somewhere in colorado. it’s a small town, nestled in the forest though the mountains prove to be a bigger challenge in locating evidence that the p.d. had indicated.

your anxiety flares when garcia presents the victim list while you’re on the plane. you had left in such a rush that there was no prior debriefing in quantico.

they look like you. 

same hair color, eye color, all of it. 

subconsciously, you know these details aren’t exclusive to you but the uneasiness can’t be shaken. even emily raises an eyebrow in your direction. 

“-we need to get started right away when we land,” hotch’s voice breaks you out from where you’ve zoned out after staring at the pictures. “the unsub is progressing rapidly. we have no time to waste.” 

it’s a miracle you know where to go when you arrive. you missed hotch handing out assignments and chose to follow j.j. and hotch closely instead. you’re still on edge. no one else seems to pick up on your mood and for that you’re grateful. 

the weather doesn’t help either; rain and thunderstorms all week. great for catching an unsub.

____

you’re exhausted, everyone is.

two straight days of work with little time to rest was seriously impacting the cognitive abilities of the team. it happened on certain cases, very rarely, but still occurred.

hotch had stopped the team on the second night, ordering everyone to go back to the hotel to get some rest. hotel rooms were limited and rossi won the drawing for the only single room. everyone else seems to find their pair naturally.

that leaves you paired with hotch who doesn’t say much as you head towards the elevator. he picks up on your body language of not wanting to speak. 

you’re still anxious, on edge. it’s not the sleeping arrangements or the sleep deprivation, it’s the case. 

everything around you is moving too slow or too fast. you can’t even control it. one minute you’re stepping off the elevator and heading towards your room with hotch and the next you're stopping in your tracks at the sight of the room.

one bed.

it’s large enough to accommodate the both of you but your heart flutters at the realization you would be sharing a bed. you don’t say anything and neither does he. two adults can share a bed. it’s not a big deal.

your mind is already drifting back to the past two days.

hotch maneuvers around your frozen form to put your bags in the right spots before he turns to you.

“y/n?” 

you don’t hear him.

“y/n” he tries again, this time placing a hand on your shoulder.

you flinch, though you try to play it off with a roll of the shoulders.

“do you want to take first shower?”

you nod, muttering a quiet ‘thank you’ as you gather pajamas and head in. you try not to think of the case as you shower, though your mind can only drift to one place; aaron. you’re sharing a bed. it’s an odd pairing, given you usually room with emily or even spencer and especially with how you feel about hotch; something only emily knows about.  

you slip into bed without another word to the man in the room. exhaustion creeps in your bones and you know you can chalk your quietness to that.

staying awake to ensure that the sleeping arrangements are okay seems like the best idea. you shut your eyes, promising to yourself that you were just resting until he was finished. you loll off to sleep to the sound of hotch’s shower.

aaron exits the bathroom to see you asleep. you’re curled up on your side of the bed, arms wrapped in a protective manner around yourself.

he knows you're not feeling well, not on a work level but a personal one too.

aaron promises to himself that he’s going to look out for you.

__

you shoot up, clawing at the sheets to push them off of your now sweaty body.

it couldn’t have been later than two in the morning and the terror from the nightmare jerks you out of the very little sleep you’d gotten.

breaths turn ragged as you collapse out of bed and onto the floor. you press your forehead to the carpet, hands clutching at your heart that feels like it could burst out of your chest at any second.

it wasn’t a horror nightmare, per say, but rather a psychological one; where everything just feels….off. adding onto the emotions of the case, everything was becoming too much.

the sobbing comes next.

between the gasps for air and your bawling, it was only a matter of time before aaron woke up. at first, he thought you were simply getting up to use the bathroom. but, the thud on the floor proved him otherwise.

“y/n?”

he must’ve said your name multiple times. it doesn’t seem to register until he’s kneeling down in front of you.

“y/n?” aaron tries again. “can i touch you?”

you don’t respond verbally. squeezing your hands around your head feels like a better option, safer.

his hands find yours, gently removing them from the grip on your hair. he doesn’t let go, doesn’t let up his pressure in the slightest. 

aaron only lets his right hand go from where they hold yours. he keeps his left hand resting on your wrist. his next task is to get your head off of the floor. he moves to cradle your cheek to lift your head up, but your voice stops him.

“aaron-” you stutter. “aaron i can’t breathe.”

“hey hey, sweetheart look at me,” you’re in a state of such panic that the pet name doesn’t even sink in. “match my breathing, okay? deep breath in, deep breath out.”

his instructions make you feel like a child; like you’re at the doctor and they just placed a stethoscope on your back.

but you suppose that’s his job, that’s your job.

you don’t know what’s happening to you.

you never have night terrors, especially not ones on cases.

it takes a few minutes for your breathing to steady. you keep your eyes on aaron, blinking back the tears that are still welling up. you can finally breathe easy and aaron considers that the first step in helping you.

you’ve moved from your prior position of being curled on the floor to settling against the wall, half propped against the ac unit and the other half against aaron’s chest.

it feels odd, wrong, like you aren’t supposed to be this intimate with your friend boss. feelings aside, the embarrassment sets in quickly.

aaron knows some things off when you press your forehead into your knees.

“i’m sorry.” your voice is weak, small.

aaron raises an eyebrow. “what for?”

“i woke you up, i’m sorry. i swear this doesn’t normally happen. i don’t know what caused it. i’m really really sorry for disturbing you,” you ramble off an apology.

“y/n, it’s alright,” he reassures. “i promise.”

you keep your forehead down. for once, aaron feels like he is unable to profile you. the rule the team point in place aside, he can’t tell if you’re flushed with embarrassment or still feeling uneasy from your dream. 

“what makes you feel better when this happens?”

his question is with good intentions but your face turns even more red.

“pressure,” you answer honestly. “i usually sleep with a weighted blanket but it gets too heavy to bring so i left it.”

aaron goes quiet and you think you’ve gone too far. you’re already sharing a bed, you’ve already had a panic attack in front of him, and he’s already seen you cry.

“let’s get to bed.”

he extends both hands to help you to your feet.

when you’re both standing, he doesn’t let go of your palms, but rather guides you over to your side of the hotel bed.

aaron’s hand stays on the small of your back and lifts up the covers to help you in. if you weren’t still terrified, you would have blushed. you lie down and peer up towards the older man.

“pressure, right?” you can hear the underlying tone of permission in his voice.

you hum.

his movements are slow to provide you plenty of time to stop him. but, you don’t. he finally settles behind you, pulling your body to his so there’s barely any room.

instinctively, your arms wrap around his that rest on your stomach.

it shocks you at what aaron was doing. you were cuddling. never in your life had you thought you’d be where you were right now. you want to convince yourself so badly of how unprofessional the situation is, but you just can’t. between the terror you were feeling and your unanswered feelings, cuddling with aaron felt like a dream.

“hotch?” 

he hums into the back of your neck, signaling to you that he’s still awake.

“thank you,” you whisper.

he squeezes you and pulls your body a little closer to his.

“i’ll be right here when you wake up.”

a promise. and for once, you think it’ll stay true.

true to his word, you wake up still in hotch’s arms. you’ve shifted slightly in the night, however; hotch’s arm had snaked under your head to hold you in a makeshift hug. you feel selfish in wanting his alarm to never go off so you can stay like this.

you’re dreading the stereotypical awkward conversation that’s going to come out of all this but in the moment, you don’t care. you’re still embarrassed from your nightmare and hotch filling the void of your weighted blanket was making you feel better.

the bliss ends when aaron’s alarm blares. you quickly shut your eyes, wanting to savor it as long as possible. you feel him shift from behind you, gently pulling his arm away and propping himself up on his elbow.

“y/n, y/n,” hotch shakes you awake. 

you groan, feigning sleep as you sit up and rub your eyes.

“how’d you sleep?”

“better with you there,” you admit.

your words slip out before you can even think. it felt natural to say, like it was a given. hotch’s face stills before slipping into a soft smile. “good, i’m glad.”

silence falls over the room. you’re still close, you with your legs crossed and him laying on his side. he’s below you and you think about how easy it would be to lean down and press your lips together. you wonder if he's thinking the same and the second you see his eyes flicker down to your mouth, you legitimately consider going for it.

but, there’s a knock on the door. turns out you might’ve stayed in bed longer than you realized.

“come on! we gotta get going!”

you sigh.

back to work.

_____

garcia gives the name and address of a potential suspect.

hotch sends you and morgan to the house with a ‘call if you find anything.’

you step away to gather yourself, ensuring that your gun is in your belt and you have your phone on you; simple procedure. you don’t miss how hotch and morgan talk quietly among themselves, the unit chief seeming to be giving instructions. you know they’re talking about you.

morgan doesn’t mention it when he walks over to you. “ready to go?” he doesn’t use a nickname. strange. 

you nod, looking back over at your shoulder to hotch who still seems to still have his eyes trained on you. “yeah i am.” hotch takes one step in your direction.

“be careful.” 

his words are directed at you.

anxiety stabs at your stomach. 

___

hands are pressing to hold your cheeks.

your ears are ringing. everything is too quiet. the blurred figure in front of you is moving their lips, if they’re talking, you can’t hear them. 

it takes a couple long, slow blinks for your surroundings to even make sense. 

you were in the suspects home. you and morgan had gone to do an interview. one he opened the door, he saw you and grinned. you can’t seem to forget the way he made you feel just hours ago. like you were next. he had decided to run not too long after that. you chased him. anything after that was beyond you. 

“y/l/n, are you okay? what happened?” 

you know that voice.

hotch. 

you peer at his now focused face and tilt your head. it takes a moment for you to figure out how to speak. your tongue feels fifty pounds in your mouth. “why wouldn’t i be?”

“you’re bleeding.”

the warm sensation on your forehead seems to set in. oh. something happened.

“something happened,” you voiced.

“something happened,” hotch repeated 

you aren’t at your best. it’s clear to everyone, not just him.

“let’s get you to an ambulance.” hotch helps you to your feet, securing an arm around your waist to help you walk. you’d been knocked out. it was a miracle you were walking and talking as quick as you were.

the ambulance is fuzzy. the lights are too bright. it doesn’t help that it’s late morning and the sun is shining. hotch notices you squint your eyes and uses his palm as a visor with enough room for the emt’s to work.

“no concussion. no hospital. we’ll patch her up with some zipstiches and she’ll just need to take it easy.” you really hope hotch, or anyone, is listening to the emt’s diagnosis and instructions because you can’t.

you’re cleaned and cleared in no time. the pouding doesn’t seem to cease. 

“where’s the team?”

hotch takes a seat at the back of the ambulance next to you.

your knees bump together and thighs press against each other. you’re close.

“they’re at the precinct. we got the guy. he knocked you out. morgan went after him.” he’s talking in simple sentences that are easy to understand.

“oh.”

you couldn’t even help with the takedown.

“you’re cleared to fly,” hotch starts. “we’re heading home tonight.’

thank god.

the drive back to the precinct is spent in silence. you can feel hotch’s gaze on you but you stare out the window. you don’t feel like talking to him, about anything. the team greets you with soft smiles or a squeeze of the shoulder. morgan collects you in his arms, muttering an apology about leaving you behind. you nod into his shoulder. no big deal.

the plane ride back to d.c. and drive to quantico goes by before you know it but you still don’t feel well.

the guy was caught. why were you so on edge still?

the bullpen is suffocating.

it’s a silent agreement that everyone would stay later to finish their reports. some adrenaline had yet to wear off and finishing the initial case report would greatly lessen the workload for tomorrow. 

you stare down at the top of the paper.

just write your statement, it’s not that hard.

everyone around you seems to delve into their work. the pen scratching sends you into another spiral about the case. 

your head hurts.

hotch exits his office, titling his head when he notices you still at your desk.

“y/n? what are you still doing here?” he questions.

it takes you a moment to process the words before blinking twice and looking at him. “was doing my report,” you mumble. the bullpen is eerily quiet.

had everyone already left? did you not even notice?

two hours had passed. for you, it felt like twenty seconds.

you look back towards your report.

you hadn’t even been able to write your name.

hotch walks down the steps and heads to your desk, abandoning his bag on the floor. 

“i think you and i are both aware something happened this case,” his voice has dropped the authoritarian tone. it’s lighter, the one he uses when talking to someone emotional on cases. you supposed that that’s you right now. “it’s okay to have off cases, y/n. we all have them.”

that’s not it.

you want to explain so bad.

you trust him, with your life if it ever came down to it.

“hotch i-” you’re shaking, tongue going heavy in your mouth. it’s easier to drop your head and hide from his burning gaze.

you press your palms to your pants, desperately trying to wipe off the moisture that’s cumulated. hotch appears in your eyeline as he kneels down in front of you. “what’s going on?”

tears form at your waterline.

“hotch i’m scared.”

your voice is hushed.

“i can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen. cases have made me anxious before but never scared.”

he squeezes your hand. “i’m right here, y/n. we caught the unsub. nothing is going to happen, i promise.”

you shake your head, eyes snapping around to check your surroundings. “that’s it. i know we caught the unsub and i’m still so paranoid. we’re alone in this bullpen and i still feel-”

you feel sick.

admitting your emotions is hard, especially in the bau. you profile human behavior for a living, you would think you would be able to manage your own.

“come home with me tonight,” hotch voices. “you’re in no state to be alone.”

he doesn’t minimize what you’re feeling, nor does he try and force you to dive further into your terror past the initial confession. 

you nod, releasing your hands to brush your hair out of your eyes. “right,” you start, “i’m not.” helpless, that’s all you can feel.

“you know it’s not like that.”

you become acutely aware of your interlocked hands. 

hotch sighs. “jack is away for the weekend with jessica so my apartment is empty. i would feel a lot better if you were there at least for tonight.”

you would too. 

“okay.”

hotch helps you to your feet, grabbing both yours and his bags and shoving the file into it. it can wait until tomorrow. he guides you out of their building and to his car.

___

you’ve been in hotch’s apartment before. only a few times, though, when you’ve watched jack.

it’s how you remember it. it feels like a home. jack’s drawings and tests cover the fridge and artwork sits in frames on the walls. 

“do you want to watch something on tv? or we can go to bed,” hotch asks after only a moment and you weigh your options. as much as you want to stay up, the adrenaline from the case has already started to wear off.

“bed,” you answer quietly. you’re unsure of where you’re going to be sleeping. it feels awkward to ask. 

you pick at the cuticles to distract yourself from the silence.

“if you’re more comfortable, i’ll make up the couch,” he offers.

no. no. no.

“absolutely not,” you laugh. you realize how your tone sounds and take a stride over to him, leaning against the wall. “i slept really well when we shared the hotel room.” it took courage to admit that.

“so you’ll sleep in mine? with me?” he sounds hopeful.

you don’t want him to think you’re throwing yourself at him.

“hotch-.”

“aaron,” he corrects you.

right. you aren’t at work. still, referring to your boss by his first name when you’re so used to his last feels odd. but then again, so did cuddling.

“aaron,” you spoke. the last time you had used his first name was when you had your nightmare. “are you sure?”

“i am.” 

you smile. “then we can share.”

aaron guides you to his bedroom, pointing out where the ensuite is and handing you an extra toothbrush. you get changed in the bathroom and splash some water on your face. you were sharing a bed for the second time - this time by choice.

he’s not in the room when you exit. you assume he’s somewhere else in the apartment, locking things up. you slide under the covers, choosing the same side you did back in the hotel room.

your phone buzzes on aaron’s beside and you pick it up to read the message.

take the day off tomorrow and get some rest. you all deserve it.

you smile. usually aaron gives you a late start after cases. a day off is a luxury.

you can hear his footsteps padding down the hallway and you rush to put your phone down. aaron enters the bedroom, smiling in your direction at the site of you curled in his bed and places a glass of water he’s holding down.

“how are you feeling?”

you peer up at him.

he’s standing at the edge of the bed, arms crossed and eyes boaring into you.

“better,” you admit. it’s not a lie, you feel safer at his - with him. 

“and your head?”

your fingers drift up to where the bandage lays. it feels like days ago that you got hurt when it was merely a few hours prior. “it hurts a little but i’ll live.”

“well hopefully the medicine kicks in soon,” he adds. “i also think getting some rest would help.”

“i could get some rest if someone would get in bed.”

he raises his hands. mock defeat. 

aaron then moves to lay down in bed, leaning over to turn the light off.

you can still make out his face from the moonlight that pours in through the window. he’s looking at you, waiting for you to say something.

“i forgot my weighted blanket.” there’s a hint of amusement in your voice.

aaron beams.

“come here,” he spoke.

you waste no time in all but launching your body at his. he’s on his back and you curl into his side, head on his chest and legs intertwined with his.

“is this okay?” you ask earnestly.

“more than okay,” aaron answers. 

you hide your smile in his neck, toying with the hem of his t-shirt. “going shy on me?” his tone is teasing. busted. you pull your head back slightly and peer up at him.

“i’m really proud of you, you know,” hotch starts. you raise an eyebrow. “for this case i mean. i don’t know, you seem like a lot doesn’t affect you and when it did, you still prevailed.”

the deep blush that spreads across your cheeks is thankfully hidden by the darkness.

“really couldn’t have done it without you,” you try and emphasize the last part. it’s true, you really wouldn’t have been able to stay together if he wasn’t there.

aaron stiffens and for a minute you think you misunderstood his prior words.

“i’m here for you, always.”

“promise?” 

he leans down to press your foreheads together.

“i promise.”

[poisonpercy]

Important notes for U.S. Americans planning to vote on Election Day (November 5)

Several states allow you to register to vote at the polls on Election Day. Those states include Alaska, California, Colorado, Connecticut, District of Columbia (D.C.), Hawaii, Idaho, Illinois, Iowa, Maine, Maryland, Michigan, Minnesota, Montana, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Mexico, Rhode Island, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, Wisconsin, Wyoming. If you would like to double check if your state allows same day registration, you can check here

Same day voter registration may not be available at your assigned polling place, so make sure to check with your local election office to see where same day voter registration is available

Make sure you know what you need to bring to vote. You can check the requirements for your state at vote.org or at rockthevote.org. These sites can also help show you what will be on your ballot and where your polling place is

Make sure you know your state’s polling place hours on Election Day. You can check out ballotpedia.org for the polling place hours in your state. I have also added some graphics with polling hours by state

Remember, if you are in line to vote when the polls are supposed to close, stay in line. As long as you stay in line, you have the right to vote

If you make a mistake on your ballot, ask for a new one

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If your name is not on the voter registration list, ask for a provisional ballot and follow up with your elections office to ensure your ballot was counted. To learn more about provisional ballots in your state, you can check out ballotpedia.org

[hades-in-bloom]

A Swim | Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

I somehow had it on repeat while writing *cracks up*

summary: Colorado wasn’t the only self-indulgent vacation that Kennedy took before he found a road to sobriety. When the world is the oyster, Bangkok is the pearl.

content: cheesy af (help me), older Leon, drunkard Leon, thus mentions of alcoholism; mentions of/implied thoughts of suicide, kinda light angst (obviously); Hunnigan with an agenda; gn! and a tad bossy reader with Interpol background; heavy sexual tension, swearing

author’s note: that was unplanned and uncalled for, proceed at your own risk. Also, I need to scream about the man in Death Island. Omfg.

if you’re a minor, go away <3

love y’all, you beautiful souls

xoxo

***

Ingrid called you in the middle of the night, reassuring that only you could track down the infamous Leon S. Kennedy. You breathed out a sleepy “…Why?” and got a response that you could barely consider an explanation. He took a vacation, Hunnigan said. He seemed to disappear, and she needed him back immediately. You could not see her face, but you could hear a pretty please in her voice.

“I am not even under D.S.O. command.” You groaned lightly. You have been working with several D.S.O. agents for the past couple of years, particularly with agent Kennedy, but you have been directly reporting to Interpol instead.

“I have already cleared you for this assignment,” Ingrid confessed. You stayed silent for a moment and then sighed. There wasn’t anything that Hunnigan could not do, after all. “He trusts you.”

As for you, Leon Kennedy trusted no one, but you wouldn’t get into this argument.

“Where was he seen last time?” You pulled yourself out of bed and walked towards the pair of jeans that were casually hanging from the only chair present in your room.

“Ingrid?” You called again when radio silence was your answer.

“We assume he is Bangkok, Thailand, since two days ago.” You sensed a touch of guilt in Hunnigan’s voice. “You have already been booked for a commercial flight.”

It took your tired brain a bit of time to do the math.

“Isn’t it like fifteen hours or so from JFK?” You inquired, genuinely concerned.

“Twenty hours,” Ingrid confirmed mercilessly. “You need to be at the airport within an hour.”

Rushing to your wardrobe, you devotedly cursed Kennedy to the high heavens.

***

Bangkok was hot. Your shirt became almost transparent in minutes and now felt like a second skin clinging to your body. You didn’t like it. You didn’t like any of it. Not until you find the son of a bitch, Kennedy, who went rogue due to no particular reason and made a decision to vacay on the other side of the planet Earth.

The taxi driver that you hailed on the street was painfully chatty, thanks to your creeping headache, but your suffering was about to end when your cab stopped in the middle of the road abruptly.

“That’s the place.” The driver told you in broken English, and you swiftly left the creaking vehicle that smelled of cheap cigarettes and incense.

The place was a dimly lit bar with little to no likable people inside. Damned Leon S. Kennedy was occupying one of the bar stools but was also spearheading the list of human beings that you felt no sympathy for at this particular moment.

He was drunk. You knew he appreciated his liquor, but you had never seen him even close to the condition he was in right now.

You briefly messaged Hunnigan that you have just found her “runaway bride” before shortening the distance to Leon’s chair. He made no effort to check out the newcomer, and you took it to your advantage.

“Surprise, you asshole.” You greeted him coldly. The agent blinked; you could see gears turn inside his intoxicated head while he was trying to identify you.

Finally, he grunted.

“The heck are you doing here?” His voice was hoarse. You blamed it all on some cheap brandy in his whiskey glass. “I am on vacation.”

“Your vacation is my vacation now, too, after Hunnigan made me fly twenty fuckin’ hours to find you.” You grimaced and took over the closest seat to Leon. He looked annoyed. You didn’t care.

“You look like you’ve had enough.” You concluded, having his drinking spree in mind.

He let out a drunken laugh that was devoid of joy. “What’s it to you if I have? I can take care of myself.” He scoffed and slurred his words a little.

A stubborn dumbass—you let out a heavy, irritated sigh. You felt your heat-infused headache intensifying.

“You cannot.” You gave him an unimpressed look. “At least I don’t consider it self-care when one drinks himself to death.” That was harsh, you thought. But right now he probably deserved it.

Your comment seemed to strike a chord with him.

“I told you I can take care of myself!” He raised his voice slightly, and some of the patrons looked over.

Jesus Christ. You wouldn’t consider yourself religious, though.

“How are you planning to take care of yourself?” You raised your voice slightly, too, giving him an unappreciative look. Suddenly, you quietly snapped. “I don’t know what you are thinking, Kennedy, but this is not a vacation. That’s a bloody suicide waiting to happen.”

You have seen alcoholics in your line of work before, and it didn’t matter what Leon thought of himself in this situation – but he looked like one.

To your surprise, he went silent, visibly taken aback. He blinked; there was a noticeable glimmer of confusion in Leon’s eyes.

Did not he realize that he was hurting himself this much?

“I’m fine…” Kennedy groaned, although his denial was slowly crumbling. “I’ll be fine…”

You could see he fought it – the alcohol numbed his feelings, but now, with a glimpse of sanity, they seemed to return to him in droves.

You watched him in awkward silence while he was babysitting his demons until he looked at you, both headstrong…

… and embarrassed?

“I swear, it would be better if Hunnigan sent some D.S.O. shrink, not you.” He grunted in disappointment, unwillingly sobering up. This vacation was over.

“Ingrid is worried about you.” You muttered, then scoffed. “And I’m your witness, Leon – you haven’t been fine in years. I know you long enough.”

He didn’t have to like what you said, but you thought he needed to hear this.

Leon gave you a dirty look. How could you see through him? The rest was tiptoeing around his alcoholism for ages, nurturing his drunken arrogance. You might not be nice, but what the others did was not kind.

The man cursed and fumblingly pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his Hawaiian-looking shorts; these made you stifle a chuckle. The image of invincible Leon S. Kennedy looking like this would be imprinted into your brain forever and ever.

He threw a few – too many – bills in local currency on the table and got himself up heavily from the bar stool. Now he towered over you grumpily. “What a buzzkill you are,” he mumbled, and you could smell that cheap brandy you noticed before on his breath.

You smirked, showing no remorse. “Let’s get you a cab, handsome.”

***

He stayed in one of the hotels right at the beach, and, stepping out of the taxi, you froze for a second, enjoying the view.

“That's one thing people got right about Thailand; it's beautiful here.” Leon hummed, approaching you from behind.

You still had your gaze fixed on the curves of the twilight bay when Kennedy spoke again. “You're right... I haven't been fine in years.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, making no attempts to hide your flabbergasted facial expression. Was this man admitting that he was wrong?..

Then pigs were about to start flying.

But Leon kept going.

“Do you want to know what's been happening in my head... How badly have things affected me?”

Was he even drunker than you thought?

“Yes, you dumbass.” You replied softly. Whether it was Ingrid’s push or not, Hunnigan was not the only one who cared about Leon to follow him around the globe.

The man walked towards the seashore, letting the waves lick his feet.

“My mind is so chaotic these days,” Kennedy admitted; his voice was barely a whisper. “Sometimes, I even lose sleep at night because of the nightmares of...”

Leon hesitated. You didn’t nudge, afraid of ruining his mood. He has already called you a buzzkill once.

At last, he sighed. Why was it so hard to talk about it?

“I made promises I couldn’t keep; that’s all you need to know.” Leon summed it up without looking at you. Did he really want to talk about it? You followed his tired, unfocused gaze, staring at the horizon.

“How about a swim?” Your suggestion came out of nowhere. You tilted your head, waiting for his response, and he glanced at you, confused, for the first time in the past moments.

Leon then let out a laugh in a drunken manner. “What? Now? In my state? I'll sink straight to the bottom.”

“You decided to vacation in Thailand – and not to swim?” You rolled your eyes at him jokingly and pulled him by his wrist. “Come on, Kennedy.” You begged. You might have been a tad aggressive back then, in the bar, but now…

You thought he deserved a break.

Leon groaned slightly but didn’t fight it, tagging along behind you. He felt a little dizzy; the cheapness of the served brandy was finally getting to him. Despite it all, he scoffed, his tone friendlier than before. “You are not going to let me forget that I am on vacation here, are you?”

You smirked, stepping into the gentle ocean waters and shamelessly ignoring his question. “We are not going to go far. I won’t let you drown, Kennedy.”

He smirked. “I trust you.” Oh, did he? Suddenly, shivers ran down your spine when you recalled Hannigan’s words. Why were you special?

You submerged in the water further with no regard to your clothes, now soaking wet. Leon, to your amusement, did the same.

“That should help with your hangover tomorrow.” You gave him a dirty look, and he huffed out a laugh.

“What's with all the dirty looks you've been giving me all day? You think I deserve it?”

“Oh, you deserve all of them.” You snorted - right before he pulled you by the waist, making you scoff out of surprise. You froze, barely reaching his chin covered with two-day stubble.

“You are drunk, Kennedy.” You reminded him softly, still making no attempts to leave his embrace. His intense gaze was trained on you.

“I'm not that drunk,” he scoffed, a grin forming on his lips. What the heck was going on?

“Oh, you are that drunk, Kennedy.” You smirked at him.

And then you felt it; his lips crashed into yours. Unconsciously, your hand darted to his hair, playing with the dirty blonde strands. A soft moan escaped your lips.

What were you thinking? It felt so wrong; you have been partners for years, and you didn’t like to mix work and pleasure. And if he had an excuse, let alone an awful one, to kiss you, you had none.

It felt so good, though.

Leon pulled away from your lips only when your lungs started to burn with a lack of air. His grin was too cheeky for your liking.

“You don't mind spending the night with me, do you?” The audacity.

You smirked. “I’ll spend a night with you when you sober up, handsome.” Otherwise, one of you might have regretted it – while him standing in front of you with wet hair and a soaked-up t-shirt made you hot and bothered. Damn, that man was fine. One way or another, at least.

“You should get to bed, Kennedy.” … And sleep through that hangover.

“Just one more…” He mumbled—one more taste of your lips. “... For today.”

Liar. So you whined into his lips softly when he kissed you again. And again.

Forcing yourself out of the water later, you looked at the boiling ocean; the waves crashed against each other as the sun set behind them. It took you all your willpower to let go of him this evening, and the only thought that brought you peace was that he was suffering at the loss of contact as much as you were.

***

You called him the following morning when you were making yourself a coffee.

“Hey.” Your lips curved into a smile. “How is your hangover, handsome?”

Leon, barely awake, first laughed, then groaned, and there was an audibly sound note of hangover in his voice, too.

“A dreadful headache... And I can still taste you on my lips, which doesn't help.” Your breath hitched. His comment about him tasting you stained your cheeks bright pink.

He yawned. “…I feel like crap.”

You mischievously bit your lip, although your tone was innocent. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

Leon, no doubt, knew precisely what would make him feel better right now.

[enigmaticxbee]

XF AU - Fic Recs

When the world was unrecognizable and upside down, there was one thing that remained the same. You... were my friend, and you told me the truth. Even when the world was falling apart, you were my constant... my touchstone (or, alternate universe and canon-divergent fics):

Contemporary AUs:

A Companion Unobtrusive by @slippinmickeys - She needed a roommate. He needed a room.

The Annapolis Grant by @slippinmickeys - Fake relationship! Scully hires Mulder to pretend to be her boyfriend.

Aprons and Scrubs by @lokisgame - Scully’s a doctor and Mulder runs a bar.

Five Years and a Lifetime by @monikafilefan @slippinmickeys - One night stand AU. Five years later, Scully and Mulder work at the same pediatric hospital, and Scully's four year old daughter bears a striking resemblance to the picture of a dark haired girl that sits on Mulder's desk...

Skin by Annie Sewell-Jennings - In a world where Mulder and Scully have never met, fate intervenes and brings two worlds colliding in the city of Charleston, as a vicious murderer reigns and a storm approaches.

Sinners Come Down by aster_risk - Six years into her marriage to Daniel, Scully meets Fox Mulder at a bar one night, and they get talking and fucking over alcohol and self-pity.

In the Best Interest of the Child by @mldrgrl - When tragedy strikes, Mulder is forced to take guardianship of his young niece, but the matter is complicated by the arrival of a sister-in-law he's never met.

Historical AUs:

By the Dim and Flaring Lamps by @sunflowerseedsandscience - Civil War AU. Captain Mulder befriends Private Scully who’s hiding a secret…

The Countess and The Earl by @slippinmickeys - Regency Romance!

Old Growth Forest by Andrea - Mulder and Scully travel back to frontier times

Rocky Mountain Interlude Part 1 and Part 2 by Jacquie LaVa and Tess - Mulder and Scully travel back in time to solve the case of a Colorado mining ghost

The Science of Sex by @if-the-seascatchfire - Masters of Sex AU. Mulder and Scully are doctors in the late 1950s who undertake a years-long study about human sexuality, and as part of the research, they also have sex with each other - you know, for the science.

Out of this World:

The Magician by Suzanne Bickerstaffe and Jennifer Lyon - Fantasy series where Mulder and Scully travel to another world full of magic (one of the first fanfics I ever remember reading!)

Out of the Little Grove by @slippinmickeys - Crossover with His Dark Materials (a mashup truly made just for me, my 13 year old self would have been over the moon)

Blinded by White Light by @dashakay - Post-colonization. What are we, but the sum of our memories? A classic.

Julia and Gabriel by Mish - Post-colonization. A new identity, a new, dangerous society, an unchanged heart and soul. Gave me Hunger Games vibes for some reason (although written years before that was published)

Canon-Divergent: Pre or Early Series

Eleventh Hour by Rachel Anton - Mulder travels back in time to find college-aged Scully and change everything.

Belphagor’s Prime by Prufrock’s Love - When Scully disappears Mulder travels back in time to a pre-X-Files Scully for help.

In Another Life by @mldrgrl - What if there was no conspiracy? What if Mulder was just a regular FBI Agent? What if Scully was just a bureau pathologist?

How They Met by @peacenik0 - After an encounter at Scully’s FBI academy graduation party they must determine how to deal with their past and their undeniable attraction to one another when partnered up.

One Week at Quantico by CrossedBeams - What if Mulder had been teaching at the Academy when Scully was training…

Paging Dr. Scully by @mangokiwitropicalswirl - Mulder keeps ending up in Dr Scully’s ER.

Only One Choice by @sisterspooky1013 - Scully was never assigned to The X Files.

The Way Things Are by Sukie Tawdry - A season 1 one night stand changes everything. Baby-fic.

Departures & Arrivals by anarchybeauty - After the X Files are closed in 1994, Scully moves on. Two years later, she runs into Mulder in an airport.

Right Hand Return by humphreywrites - Scully is returned from her abduction with a baby, no memories of anything prior to her captivity and some PTSD.

12 Rites of Passage and 12 Degrees of Separation by Anne Hayes - mytharc story written very early in the series run.

parent_1 by @markwatneyandenesemble - It’s 1996, Mulder’s been off the X-Files for three years, and not speaking to Scully. They’ve almost moved on with their lives. Almost.

Canon-Divergent: Mid Series

A Different Place by @myownsuperintendent - When Mulder successfully brings one of the Samantha clones back from the farm with him in Herrenvolk, she must learn to adapt to a different life.

Once More With Feeling by skinfull - While on a stakeout Mulder is shot in the head and loses his memory.

Iolokus by rivkat and MustangSally - Mytharc AU. Painted across the barren and desolate reaches of Texas, the shadows of the Project put additional pressure on Scully and Mulder's already fragile relationship. After a hostage crisis raises more questions about the Project's breeding program, Scully begins her own investigation, leaving Mulder to choose between saving her and saving himself. Pretty disturbing but fascinating, a classic.

Arizona Highways by Fialka - Mytharc AU. Visions of Melissa lead Our Heroes on a case confirming the existence of a series of Emilys. But does Melissa really have a message, or is it all in Scully’s head? Another classic.

Heuvelmans' On the Track by @mashnotesofthemythopoeic - post-FTF mytharc AU, truly a ride you’ll never forget.

The Leap and Landfall by Ambress - Scully has a one time opportunity for motherhood, given to her by the Kurt Crawfords.

All That Is Dark and Bright by @malibusunset-xf-blog - Emily lives AU.

Five Years and One Night by Shalimar - Scully leaves the X-Files post-Emily but gets drawn back in when Mulder discovers Emily wasn’t the only child created.

Cubed by Louise Marin - Mid-season 6 Scully does a little body-swapping of her own. Can she and Mulder make it back to each other? Do they want to?

The Boy on the Beach and Tonight We're Gonna Party Like It's 1999 by @cecilysass - One moment she was sitting in the chair. Her chin up, her expression ice. And the next moment she was gone. Fantastic exploration of the Samantha storyline.

Canon-Divergent: Late or Post Series

40 Weeks by @malibusunset-xf-blog - What if the IVF attempt in Per Manum had been successful?

Mobius by L.A. Ward - Post-Requiem while investigating the disappearance of a physicist, Scully finds someone she didn't expect - Mulder. But is it her Mulder?

By the Wind Grieved by Karen Rasch - Mulder is returned several months post Requiem but he doesn't know who he is or what Scully and he are to each other. Together they must reclaim the past before their enemies take away their future.

Deadalive AU by @markwatneyandenesemble - Mulder is returned but is missing several years of memory.

The 13th Sign and 7 Days in May by Prufrock’s Love - Post-Deadalive. Mulder saw no reason for life, death, sex, Armageddon, or emotional dysfunction to stand in the way of true love.

Hurricane Season by rah and beduini - Post-Existence week at the beach with the Scully family and baby Wim.

Terra Firma series by @malibusunset-xf-blog - Post-Existence domestic family drama, a classic comfort read for me.

2008 by MystPhile - With the quest at an end, the X-Files closed in the year 2000. Our heroes went their separate ways. In 2008, they meet in Bloomingdale's and the past, present, and future are explored.

Dr. Scully's School for Exceptional Boys by Prufrock’s Love - More than a decade had passed. Mulder had no reason to hole up in his apartment alone, wearing a Three Dog Night T-shirt with dried mustard on the hem and blue jeans that had seen better days. He wasn't "saving himself" for anyone. Especially not Her. Though she remained epically, beautifully, brilliantly kick-A-S-S.

Machines of Freedom by Amal Nahurriyeh - post-IWTB. The end of the world is coming. And they're doing everything in their power to stop it.

North of Zero by @slippinmickeys - Post-IWTB, post-colonization. The bombs have fallen. The aliens have come. What’s next?

Canon Parallel AUs:

I've got you under my skin by cuits - In a universe where soulmate identifying marks exist and affect a part of the population, would Mulder and Scully's relationship evolve any different? Unfinished but complete through Existence so it still ends in a satisfying place.

Half-light by skuls - Mulder and Scully get a second chance.

The Family G-Man by Neoxphile and FelineFemme - A double tragedy strikes Mulder the week before Christmas of 2003. What if he could go back and change things, save the son one lost and give the other the family she wanted? Could it keep them safe?

[hallwyeoo]

Ellie’s memory of the golfing scene and what it tells us about her.

🚨spoilers for tlou2🚨

I think Ellie’s flashback to Joel’s death is very telling of how she internalized the event and the meaning she applied to his death. It’s also a good demonstration of her relationship to autonomy. Let’s break down the elements that were inconsistent with the actual event:

The stairs/hallway are much longer than they were. This suggests a sense of helplessness, an inability to get there fast enough. Joel is constantly out of reach.

There is blood on the floor outside of the door. Not entirely certain on this one but my hunch is that she blames herself for not seeing more obvious signs of violence/not knowing something was wrong sooner.

The door is locked, another roadblock in her path to Joel. She can’t access him, she can’t help, he needs her and she isn’t there.

Most importantly. Joel yells “Ellie, help me” (which he didn’t in the actual scene, he just screams. He doesn’t say a word in the actual scene)

Ellie hearing Joel scream for her help, calling for her while being horribly beaten, and her being repeatedly impeded on her way to him suggests that what she took away from his death is that she wasn’t enough. They always helped each other, always had each others backs, always got up. Ellie views his death as a failure. She was too slow, too weak, not smart enough to save him. She failed him when he needed her most. She is absolutely helpless to save him, just like she was helpless to save Riley, Tess, Sam, and Jessie (and Marlene, and humanity, and and and-).

Once again, Ellie makes a decision (staying with Riley, going to the fireflies, staying with Joel, being the cure, trying to forgive Joel) and once again her autonomy and ability to find closure is ripped from her.

This is the inciting incident of tlou pt2, this is the moment where Ellie’s whole world shatters the same way Joel’s did at the start of pt1. Ellie enters into the same cycle (which I like to call the “Joel cycle” because… yeah.) that he did, and throughout pt2 she stays in the “20 years later” phase of the cycle. She is changed, she has lost her light, lost what she fought for. She lost her chance to genuinely forgive Joel and rebuild their relationship. She is stuck in a gruelling and violent world that she has no anchor in, at least not anymore. His death is so sudden and so incredibly violent that it practically gave her (and me as well, tbh) whiplash. She’s in a state of total shock.

On another devastating note, this is one of the three times in tlou that we see Ellie beg (that I remember). The first is begging Joel to get up at the university of Eastern Colorado, the second is begging him to get up and for Abby to stop, and the third is begging Abby to not kill Dina because she’s pregnant. (Two times she begs Joel to get up, one time he doesn’t. Two times she begs Abby to spare her family and one time she does. What a beautifully haunting contrast)

To wrap up, every person creates an internal narrative, a story of their life that is crafted from their context and lived experiences. The meaning we derive from those experiences doesn’t always reflect the truth, and that can sometimes bite us in the ass majorly when we experience a traumatic event. We tend to want to find someone or something to assign blame to, some reason or rationale to why it happened. We tell stories. We write them in our minds about ourselves and what happens to us and what that says about us.

But Ellie is wrong. Joel’s death happened in response to a conscious and willing choice he made. It is in no way her fault, and there was absolutely no way for her to know or to stop what was happening. I think Ellie knows that much on an intellectual level, It just doesn’t change how devastated she is over the whole event. It can’t change the fact that she FEELS as though this was all her fault, that Joel did what he did to save her, that she could have saved him. That she should have.

[rabbitblackx]

Heyyy I saw your post about the cp x french s/O and I wanted to ask if you could do the same with a German s/O with the same CP's??:D

Creepypastas with a German!Reader that curses in their language

Includes: Hoody, Toby Rogers and Homicidal Liu

French!Reader version:

Hoody💖

Hoody thought your German accent was so cool. He could listen to you talk on and on all day. He also felt a thousand feet tall when you two were together in front of the others. You were such a catch, so Hoody showed you off to them all the time

Being Hoody’s lover, you also spent a fair amount of time with his buddy Masky. Like on missions, where Slender would assign you all together, often along with Toby as well

The four of you were deep within the woods one night. Masky was getting snappy with you, accusing you and Hoody of paying attention to each other more than the mission itself. Hoody couldn’t help it. He half expected Masky to be used to him touching on you all the time by now

Toby spotted the target up ahead in the dark, and readied his hatchets. He excitedly bolted ahead, keen to get them dirty again

What annoyed you the most was that Masky seemed to only be mad at you, and not Hoody. It was as if you weren’t a valuable part of this mission, but instead a distraction to the actual killers here

You cussed out Masky in German, him of course not knowing what you were saying. He grew tired of you and Hoody so he angrily followed after Toby, leaving you two alone

You and Brian walked together in silence for awhile, before you could hear a faint giggle emit from under his mask

“What?” You asked

Hoody continued to chuckle to himself, feeling for your hand in the dark. “What you said to him.” He explained

The man didn’t know a lick of German before he met you, but he began to slowly pick it up after you two became an item

“He doesn’t even know what you said! That’s why he’s so mad.” Hoody wheezed with laughter

You laughed along with him, giving his gloved hand a tender squeeze

Toby Rogers💖

Toby was actually German himself! Of course he didn’t have the accent like you did, with him growing up in Colorado and all… but that just made him love yours even more!

Living in the godawful manor, you had to defend yourself numerous times a week. Usually it was all in good fun, with banter and roasts. But when it came to foul insults, you definitely topped the charts in severity

Naturally, Toby begged you to teach him all the cuss words and dirty stuff in German. They became usual phrases for him, sometimes even saying them in his verbal tics

Absolutely loved it when you called Jeff a ‘schweinhund’ for the first time. Greatest moment of his life

That actually became Jeff’s nickname around the mansion for awhile. Of course Toby started it, and of course Jeff hated it (and you)

Toby had an unhealthy obsession with you. He followed you around like a lost puppy all day. He was so starstruck by you, and couldn’t believe he managed to snag you as his own

You swore a lot (like him), and it was always in German. Whether sassing the other creeps, or when you hit a body part on something, you were cussing out German profanities. Toby made a habit of saying the exact same words you did. He was like a parrot

The other creeps never knew what you were saying to them when you were arguing with them. Toby was the only one who did, and he lapped up every second of it

Homicidal Liu💖

Liu could listen to you talk for hours. He was absolutely entranced with your German accent. He never heard one in real life before he met you. Your voice was so soothing to him

Liu thought it was adorable when you talked or even cussed in German. It made his cold heart flutter. What made him go wild though, were your pet names for him

What you called Liu: liebling, schnucki and mausebär

What he loved the most about this, was that when you talked to the other creeps in German, it was often while in an argument. So you cussed or insulted them in your native tongue, just because you knew they didn’t understand

But when it came to Liu, you never did such thing. You were so tender and soft with him. It was embarrassing when you buttered him up in front of the others though

Liu could hear endless snickers from the mansion’s living room when you would call him ‘schnucki’ or your other pet names for him. Teasing mostly came from Liu’s brother Jeff

Liu got pissed when Jeff made fun of him because of you, but he quickly got over it when you came storming over. You cursed and insulted Jeff in German, making him dumbfounded. Liu thought it was so funny, and was glad to have you on his side

When the two of you were alone in his room, it was like he wasn’t even a crazed killer. He was like putty in your hands when you purred out your sweet names for him, or telling him you loved him in your native tongue

Liu pulled you into his lap while smiling like an idiot. He snaked his arms around your waist and slid a hand under your shirt, gliding his fingers along your back. You giggled, leaning in and whispering sweet German nothings in his ear

[blackhairedjjun]

flowers of every color | 4. pink roses

overall summary: when your father is assigned as the new head gardener to the royal family, you are also tasked with helping him maintain the castle's many gardens and extensive floral arrangements. by chance you find yourself crossing paths with the "ice-cold" crown prince, choi yeonjun... who turns out to be not as ice-cold as everyone says he is.

chapter summary: the welcome ball is in full swing, but all you can do is stay outside and be on standby -- that is, until yeonjun decides to bring the ball to you.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: alcohol mentions

author’s note: it's time for a pure fluff chapter!! this one was fun to write 💖 chapters 3 and 4 were supposed to be one chapter, but there was just so much going on that i felt like i should split it into two (i generally prefer shorter chapters).

also, recommended music for this: gregory alan isakov & the colorado symphony orchestra - amsterdam

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night falls on the castle grounds and the ball is in full swing. even from outside, you can tell that the festivities have reached their heights just from the sounds: the clinking of glasses and plates, the raucous laughter from the lords and ladies, and the string quartet playing lively waltzes seemingly non-stop.

just moments ago you entered the ballroom yourself, not to celebrate but to replace a flower vase in the hallway that a drunken guest knocked over. as soon as you entered, your senses were bombarded; you remember seeing a parade of men in trimmed suits and women in rustling ballgowns, servants carrying trays full of wines and cocktails, and even someone’s dog jumping onto a couch to sniff a pastry that another guest was eating. everywhere you went was noisy, whether from chatter or music or the scraping of dinnerware. it was too much all at once, and you felt relieved when you spotted the broken flower vase and then made your exit soon after.

now that you are out of the ruckus, you make your refuge for the night in one of the gazebos in the front gardens.  you aren’t too far from the ballroom window, and you prefer to enjoy the ball this way. from the outside, you can observe the festivities and imagine yourself in them, but avoid all the messy sensations that come with them.

you wonder if yeonjun, soobin, and beomgyu are enjoying themselves, or if they too have become overwhelmed by the constant activity of the ball. then again, you muse, they are princes. meeting all sorts of people from far and wide is a duty that comes with their title, and perhaps at this point they have simply gotten used to it.

still, it would be nice if you could enjoy the ball with them…

the quartet starts to play a jaunty arrangement of an old folk song from your hometown, interrupting your train of thought. memories flood you as you hear the opening melody and your mind is transported back to the small market square where your father would bring you as a child. you remember your tiny hands pushing the cart containing all sorts of flowers and herbs that you would sell (your father did most of the actual pushing), and in your mind’s eye you see the merchants’ displays of everything from cured meats to leather gloves to silver jewelry. the merchants sing a song to pass the time, filling the market with a joyous rhythm, and your father too joins the chorus. once you’ve accompanied him to the market square enough times, your voice also chimes in, and even now you sing every word by heart as if you were with the merchants again.

you don’t notice yeonjun’s voice singing along with you until the last verse.

“i knew i’d find you from that pretty voice of yours.”

you turn in the direction of his voice, but any reply you had in mind evaporates at the sight of him. yeonjun is standing at the gazebo entrance and your jaw goes slack from just how beautiful he looks. the dark emerald green jacket he wears hangs well on his shoulders, and the gold embroidered details on the front shine in the moonlight. his hair has been slicked back, with a few strands left in front of his forehead, framing his face. even in the evening dimness you can make out his features: his shining eyes, his plush lips.

“you look…” stunning. wonderful. beautiful. “…good.”

it’s not the compliment you wanted to give, but yeonjun gets the message anyway. he lets out an awkward laugh and he turns his head away, covering his mouth with one hand. when he recovers, he turns to you with a small smirk. “and you look amazing too.”

you look down at your uniform, the same one that every servant in the castle is wearing, and frown. “sure, i do.”

“no, i mean it,” he says, stepping fully inside the gazebo to stand in front of you. “when i saw you here singing to yourself, smiling and thinking of something happy, i thought it was a beautiful thing to see.”

“come on, don’t say things like that! that’s so…” your face and ears grow warm, and you aren’t sure how to deal with the sensation.

“why not? i can say it if i want to.”

“i suppose,” you stammer. your entire face feels like it’s glowing and you can barely look yeonjun in the eye. he’s watching you so fondly and it’s adorable, but it also makes you feel something you can’t explain.

“anyway,” you clear your throat and stare at the ballroom window, “what are you doing here? aren’t you supposed to be entertaining guests?”

“not for now. my parents are the ones talking to the diplomats. and everyone else… soobin and beomgyu are showing them some neat football tricks.”

“the same football trick that led them to meet me?”

he bursts out laughing and so do you.

“it’s boring in there without you, y/n,” he says.

“boring? i went in there for one minute and it was too much going on.”

“it only looks like a lot. most of them don’t really talk about anything, they just show off a lot and get drunk.” he sighs. “i missed you.”

you turn back to meet yeonjun’s gaze and nod. “i missed you, too. i was just wondering if you were okay.”

in between your words you hear the opening notes of a waltz. yeonjun perks up and stands straighter, then extends a hand to you. “i’d feel okay if i had a little waltz,” he says. “may i have this dance?”

“out here?”

“there’s nowhere else i’d rather dance with you in.”

you chuckle. he sounds so cheesy yet so earnest, and despite the elegant air he tries to pull off, you can see his eyes pleading with you to say yes. it only adds to his charm; how could you so cruel as to turn him down? you bow at him and take his hand, and he pulls you into position.

the music fills the air and you realize just what on earth you agreed to: you, a mere gardener who cannot dance to save their life, are waltzing with the crown prince. you have one hand clasped in his and another resting on his shoulder, and they both feel clammy. you barely keep up; you try to move your feet in time with the music but they drag rather than glide along. more than once do you step on yeonjun’s toes, and when it happens for the fourth time you nearly let go of him. you don’t want to think of what sorry state his once-polished dress shoes are now in.

“oh no 一 yeonjun, i’m so sorry 一”

yet he doesn’t let go; instead his hand on your waist rubs you reassuringly, then grips you a bit more firmly. with his other hand holding yours, he rubs circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. “it’s okay,” he says. “just follow me.”

you relax in his hold and try to follow him. he moves in slower, more careful steps to match you, and that makes it easier not to drag your feet so much. yet he never breaks time with the music, even swaying his body to the melody, and you allow yourself to be carried away by him. in his arms you sway too, letting your tension be replaced by your natural rhythm, and bit by bit the self-consciousness holding your body back begins to disappear.

the violins begin their crescendo and he bends you into a slight dip, and to your surprise you have no trouble following him. when he guides your upper body back up you start laughing from sheer joy, and the laughter spreads to him too, his hold relaxing but not fully letting go. you shuffle a bit closer to him, fully embracing the moment, the music and his presence overtaking your senses. 

only when the sounds of the quartet die down and the waltz comes to an end do you realize just how close you are to yeonjun. he keeps his hold on you even after the music has faded, and locks his eyes with yours. you can’t look away — you don’t want to look away — and you find yourself admiring the beauty mark near his right eye, then up at his shining eyes. again you notice just how fondly he gazes at you, as if you really are his favorite person in the world. 

again you feel that something that you can’t explain. it isn’t unpleasant, quite the opposite in fact, and the feeling draws you even closer to yeonjun. 

he leans in towards you and you do too until your foreheads touch. your gaze falls on his lips. the inexplicable feeling fills your senses with a strange burst of warmth. the world comes to a stop as his arms wrap around you and something in you pulls you closer still...

clink! clink!

yeonjun lets go of you and pulls away, blinking as if he just woke up from a dream. you see the blush creeping up on his cheeks even as he covers his face with his hand. “uh, sorry,” he says, grinning from nervousness. “i, uh... i have to go now. they’re doing the toast.”

you stare at him, unable to comprehend the trance you were in mere moments ago. “yeah, it’s fine, i... i understand.”

you bow at him once more, and he does the same.

“good night, y/n.”

“good night, yeonjun.”

he turns and nearly runs back to ballroom to catch the toast, and only then do you release the breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

一

the next day is a busy one for all the staff of the castle, including you; there is plenty to clean up in the aftermath of a ball. at first you are assigned just to clear out the floral arrangements left behind in the ballroom, but the sheer amount of cleanup means that you are dragged by the servants into mopping up any spills, washing the dinnerware, and folding up the linens. you feel guilty seeing just how much of a mess the guests have made (you recall finding wine poured into one of the flower vases and wince), so you roll up your sleeves and get to work.

with all the cleanup to take care of, yeonjun assumes that you are once again too busy to personally deliver flowers to his room. yet when he returns there after a long afternoon of talks and tours with the remaining guests, he notices that the flower vase on the ledge has been replaced. gone are the extra lilies of the valley that a servant previously placed there, and in their place is a bouquet of pink roses. he rifles through their stems until he finds a piece of folded paper lodged in between them, takes it out, and finds your now-familiar handwriting:

pink roses are for gratitude. thank you for last night, let’s dance together again.

he smiles and bites his lip at the note, then places it in his pocket. for the rest of the day, in between lessons and more talks and dinners with diplomats, he finds himself taking it out and rereading it. he thinks of the pink roses in his room and of the dance he shared with you, and he regains just enough strength to keep going.

end notes: don't worry about soogyu, they'll be back in the next chapter (esp soobin)! the next ch will also start to introduce the angsty bits so i hope y'all are ready

[offender42085]

Post 1333

"....kinda real and yet kinda cheesy -- some of us laughed and cheered -- like something you would see in a made-for-TV movie." -- Fellow Inmate

Kevin Wayne Newland, Washington inmate 311751, born 1986, incarceration intake September 2007 at age 21, killed in an escape attempt June 2011

Murder, Possession of Stolen Property, Theft, Fogery

The attempted prison break in June 2011 occurred at the Clallam Bay Corrections Center, located in the remove northwest corner of Washington state on the Olympic Peninsula. Inside the facility’s garment shop, where about 70 inmates typically work making offender uniforms and coveralls. The prisoners were supervised by two unarmed corrections officers and a handful of civilian staff members, who are also trained in responding to prison emergencies.

While one of the two corrections officers was on a lunch break, two inmates – convicted murderer Kevin Newland and Dominick Maldonado put their plan into action.

Maldonado had been sentenced to a term of 163 years for attempted mass murder at a shopping center in 2005.

Maldonado grabbed the unarmed officer and held him hostage with a pair of scissors readily available in the garment shop, while Newland took keys from the guard, unlocked a forklift and rammed it through a rollup door.

Newland ignored verbal commands and a warning shot before an officer shot him, wherein shortly thereafter Maldonado released his hostage after seeing his partner killed.

Officials were quick to emphasize that it was standard procedure for there to be one officer on duty in the garment shop while the other took a lunch break. They also said the presence of the civilian staff, who train offenders in the garment industry, mitigated the officer’s absence.

As part of the investigation, an inmate who was working in the factory at the time described the events "as kinda real and yet kinda cheesy -- some of us laughed and cheered -- like something you would see in a made-for-TV movie."

When the attack occurred, the civilian employee in the vicinity tried to intervene physically, saw that he had little chance of success and quickly acted to alert prison officials. “If you would have had two corrections officers, it would have been a stronger response, but the civilian correctional industry workers responded very well,” an official said.

A union spokesman representing the state’s corrections officers and civilian Correctional Industries workers, said the civilian worker involved was repeatedly punched by Newland. Even after he broke free, Newland chased him down and beat him again before he was able to summon help.

Typically, corrections officers assigned to areas where prisoners live and work are unarmed, due to concerns that inmates might be able to take the weapons. Other officers, such as those assigned to special response teams, do carry guns.

Shortly after being convicted in 2007, Newland was linked to an attempted escape from the Spokane County Jail. In the common area of the jail, Guards found braided sheets fashioned into a rope, a shirt made into a slipknot and a sharpened wooden object. 

Before his incarceration, Newland had a career and love of breaking horses.

Newland was serving a sentence of 45 years.

Citing "ongoing safety/security concerns", the Washington State Department of Corrections transferred Maldonado (Federal Inmate 02071-122) to ADX Florence in Colorado in May 2016.

4o

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

May 23rd, 1985

Mom suggested for me to write in a journal during my stay in Colorado, just to see what I’m up to. Never been one for writing in a diary, but whatever.

Finally got off the bus a couple hours ago after an over 12 hour drive between states, and now I’m staying at pop’s place for the remainder of my stay. Not a bad house, but not great. Found a spider in my bed sheets and I still feel like something’s crawling on me.

It was surreal seeing Dad again after so long. Last time I saw him was around a decade ago, when I was still a stupid eleven year old. I can’t tell how I feel about being back in this town again. It’s nostalgic sure, but I can’t help but feel like I should’ve stayed in Wyoming. The plus side is that I can film a documentary while I’m down here for the college assignment I need to get done before the end of the year.

Still getting used to everything. Hoping this month won’t last too long. Starting to feel homesick already.

-Maxwell Wright

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Fa-la-la-la laaaa!

It's that time. I hope you know that I care about you and whatever you celebrate or don't I have a gift for you! Family can be really great but it can also be soul crushing. Just remember your found family is equally important and I consider you all my tumblr fandom family. Don't let them get you down. Escape into fic when you need a break!

(I asked for Turkey day fics and only got a few, so I thought I'd just include them in the Holiday fics list. I've done this a few years, so you can check out the Holiday tag for more.)

Anon

Not Quite Lost (Not Quite Found) by alocalband

(1/1 I 25,025 I Explicit I Sterek)

A year after the nogitsune is defeated, Derek is living a quiet life in the mountains above a small town in Colorado.

Then Stiles shows up.

@hokee101

can't be hateful, gotta be grateful by HalfFizzbin

(1/1 I 6,260 I Teen I Sterek)

"Be cool, Dad, we've decided to con Grandma."

(Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's and she gets the right wrong idea.)

Pack is Pack, No Matter How Far by HappyJuicyfruit

(1/1 I 9,927 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek tries to deal with his pack moving away for college. Stiles helps (a lot).

Filter Out the Starlight by skoosiepants

(1/1 I 12,238 I Teen I Sterek)

“Why are you not more curious about me?” Stiles says when Derek’s got the door half open, sun spilling over the dark wood, dust motes spinning about his legs. Stiles is wearing fabric that hasn’t been invented yet, he’s clutching a smart phone to his chest, and he appeared out of nowhere, like an angel.

Softly, Derek says, “We all have our secrets,” and closes the door.

Or-

A heartbroken Stiles accidentally travels back in time to find his one true love. A harlequin-ish Christmas romance.

Cupboard Love by mklutz 

(2/2 I 32,286 I General I Sterek)

He’s carefully balancing the sandwiches and the two biggest tupperware containers he could find that both had functioning lids when the front door opens and he almost drops everything right there in front of the stupid fountain.

If that’s Derek Hale, he’s definitely not a mountain man.

A Hale for the Holidays by rlnerdgirl 

(1/1 I 38,095 I Explicit I Sterek)

“I sent you a Christmas card that got sent back to me. Did you get a new apartment?” his dad wonders. The question is all suspicion and little anything else.

A flicker of an idea sparks. It’s not nearly formed well enough for him to say, “Yeah, actually,” and when he follows that with, “I moved in with someone,” he wants to punch himself in the face. He’s living with someone?!

“You’re living with someone?” It’s the same voice and tone as the one in Stiles’ head, just thirty years older.

Two things keep Stiles from bashing his face onto the table: there’s a steaming cup of coffee in the way and, more importantly, his dad will definitely hear. Someone passes by in front of him and a semi-familiar book cover catches his eye. “Derek Hale,” he muses, and stops. No. That wasn’t meant to be out loud.

Three Marks by sanam

(8/8 I 113,736 I Mature I Sterek)

"And then there was pain again, but this time it was in only three places—his arm, below his clavicle, and next to his heart, all on the left side. It felt like the skin was being sliced apart, ripped open, flayed off— And suddenly it was done. Derek looked across the room and saw the boy on the floor, looking about as bad as Derek felt."

Derek and Stiles learn that bonding is probably best done with ridiculous amounts of video games and maybe a little bit of time.

Come Light A Candle With Me by HappyJuicyfruit

(1/1 I 1,804 I General I Sterek)

Derek celebrates Hanukkah with Stiles.

My World Is Filled With Cheer And You by bleep0bleep

(1/1 I 10,832 I Teen I Sterek)

“It was a last minute decision. Single parents with children draw attention to themselves in this type of neighborhood, and this department didn’t have a big budget to relocate all the werewolf and werewolf sympathizers that were targeted on this list. We’ve combined a lot of our relocation assignments. It ended up working out that another family, Mr. Stilinski and his son, looked like a good fit for you guys, so you’ll be sharing a home with them for the time being.” Markowski grins at him. “Congratulations! You’re married!”

~

In which Derek and his daughter are displaced just in time for the holidays, matched up with Stiles and his young son in a government protection program.

[cassieuncaged]

Nyx Mortal Kombat Mechanics & Bio

Based on the MK character wiki pages. More beneath the cut.

About Nyx:

Born Rachel Rogers, she grew up in Colorado to a mother and father though her father died of cancer shortly after her younger brother was born.

Her mother struggled to make ends meet and worked multiple jobs to support her family. Rachel started selling drugs to help make more money. She was often arrested by local authorities and spent a lot of time in juvie.

Instead of going to college after high school, she enlisted in the military before assigned to special ops. She sent money home to her family.

After being discharged, Rachel found a hard time making ends meet and relocated to Los Angeles as began working for different underground crime syndicates to make ends meet.

Not much is known about her at this time other than she began working with Kano as a hired gun. She wasn't a member of the Black Dragon but spent most her time at the club and with other members.

She also had a short term casual relationship with Kabal.

Kano keeps her at his beck and call by black mailing her with her past, being the person who gave her tabula rasa. Because of this, Nyx feels like she has to submit to her boss.

Paths cross and she eventually meets General Sonya Blade of the Special Forces. Officially betraying the Black Dragon for immunity, Nyx hands over intel she's acquired over the years in an attempt to clear her name.

This puts Kano on the warpath who eventually enlists help from Outworld to begin a war with the Special Forces. Nyx's betrayal isn't the inciting factor but is more of the straw that finally broke the camel's back.

Appearance:

Has pale skin and has been compared to an uncooked shrimp by both Johnny and Cassie Cage. However, Nyx takes this in stride as she likes her ivory complection.

She has aquamarine eyes though she wears black, purple, and red contacts to add to a the mystique around her entire character. She also wears smoky eye shadow, black lipstick, and sports two piercings (one in her left eyebrow and a septum) as well as several on either ear (3 on each lobe, daith, helix, and industrial).

Skins:

Original - black leather pants, black combat boots, fingerless gloves, a plain black, white or red t-shirt under a black leather jacket decorated with goth band buttons (Sisters of Mercy, The Cure, Joy Division, etc.), a plain choker, a studded mask covering the bottom of her her face, half black/half white hair that falls halfway down her back.

Moshing - ripped black jeans over fishnet tights, checkered creepers, hair down accept for two small space buns on either side, all make-up and piercings on, long sleeved fishnet top covered by an oversized band tee (most likely Bauhaus or Joy Division) and a choker with an o ring.

Red Carpet -hair down, makeup but no piercings, hair down, wears long black velvet evening gown with one slit up the side with matching spike heels that are used as a special finishing weapon.

Powers & Abilities:

Nyx may not possess any supernatural abilities, but she does both military and underground street fighting training. She prefers using weapons from a distance as compared to hand to hand combat since she doesn't like blood (which makes any battles between her and Skarlet very interesting).

But she's practiced both Judo and Karate since high school before integrating Krav Maga into her regimen. Nyx is very elusive and can move in credibly fast which makes her practically untouchable. Kano used her as a hired gun for these reasons as her agility mixed with the cover of night (i.e. her code name) made her chances of escaping undetected that much higher.

Fighting Styles:

Krav Maga

Karate

Judo

Thrown Weapons

Tactical

Weapons:

Sig MPX K with a silencer

Ducati Panigale Matte Purple

flat kunai style throwing knives

herself

Fatalities:

Road Kill - Uses her Ducati to eviscerate her opponent's face with the front tire. Can be any distance from opponent to trigger.

Straight to the Heart - Throwing knife to the chest, far distance.

In My Sights - Uses her Sig with silencer and scope attachments from a far distance to effectively

Single White Female (special) - Similar to Straight to the Heart. Removes her black Stiletto before jabbing into her opponent's eye. Mid to close distance. Must be in Red Carpet skin.

Friendship:

'You're probably wondering how I got here' followed by a record scratch. Cut to Nyx playing The Cure on a record player before collapsing into a bean bag chair before inviting her competitor to join her.

Trivia:

has a white ferret named Ghost

practices yoga

secretly loves the color pink which Cassie mercilessly teases her about

despises going to Johnny's movie premieres but attempts to be supportive for her wife

enjoys vintage video games (specifically Dos Box games from when she was a kid) Her favorite was Gabriel Knight: Sins of the Fathers

Was never able reunite with her mother after going underground. Eventually finds her younger brother Noah with whom she has a close relationship

Secretly misses her friends at the Black Dragon. She really only hangs out with Cassie and Jacqui on base which gets kind of lonely.

Never rides her Ducati without a helmet

favorite bands are Joy Division, Bauhaus and The Cure.

Has a collection of vinyl records. Her favorite is Bela Lugosi's Dead

Doesn't care for horror movies. Her genre of choice is neo noirs, likely for the vaporwave aesthetic.

Recovering alcoholic

Johnny Cage Announcer Names:

Daughter in Law from Hell

Elvira

[masterwords]

i can take it

Summary: Minimal Loss aftermath, but instead of it being Prentiss and Reid in the compound it's Morgan and Reid.

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: see tags on AO3

Notes: another fic for @justiceforralvez, inspired simply by a request for someone seeing someone's scars for the first time accidentally by walking in on them/seeing them in the shower or getting changed. it isn't exactly scars, but it's close and it's where my brainrot took me.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

“I can take it.”

Those four words had haunted every moment of Hotch’s days since Colorado. They were with him as he sat at his desk, with him as he swam laps in the pool, with him as he played Mario Kart with Jack. They were worst when he slept, the clarity in them was too much to bear and each time he heard that glass shatter he woke with a start. Morgan wasn’t answering texts, asked for space. A few days to handle some things, to deal with what he saw and what happened. Hotch knew enough about Morgan’s past to know that assignment had been harder on him than he would let on, and yet there had been no talking him out of it. No way he would let anyone else do it, and Hotch knew why. The rest of the team might be in the dark but he knew and it made him feel sick to his stomach.

When he saw Morgan walk out of that compound, when he saw him ushering out women and children like he hadn’t just been through hell, Hotch could hardly contain himself. Did those people know what he’d gone through to get them out? To save them? Did they have any idea the sacrifices he made? No, he knew the answer was no, and Morgan would prefer to keep it that way. He just stood there helping people away from the building before it went up and even Hotch, had he not heard everything, might have a hard time believing anything had happened at all.

“It’s me,” Morgan said confidently, drawing Cyrus’ attention away from Reid. “I’m FBI. He didn’t know.”

Hotch had felt Rossi’s eye burning into him in that moment, studying him, watching for even the slightest micro reaction. To his credit, he didn’t flinch, kept his features as neutral as he could maintain while his heart thumped about wildly in his chest. It helped that he had a raging headache that was already putting him on edge, it made for a good cover when he couldn’t maintain the charade. He bit into his cheek and set his jaw against the throbbing pain radiating from his ear to hide the way his entire body had turned to static electricity because Morgan just gave himself up. Morgan just gave himself over to a mad man.

“He’s going to be okay,” Rossi said quietly. “Morgan’s tough as nails.”

“I know.”

Read the rest on AO3!

[covid-safer-hotties]

COVID-19 vaccination mandates boosted uptake among health care workers - Published Aug 30, 2024

Should health care workers be required to obtain the COVID-19 vaccine? A new study examines the effectiveness of COVID-19 mandates

At the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2021, governments and health care centers across the country faced a difficult but important question: Should health care workers be required to obtain the COVID-19 vaccine?

It was an economic quandary as much as an ethical one. Vaccine mandates could cause reductions in staff, either from workers missing time due to recovery from the vaccine or from opting to seek employment elsewhere. Additionally, health care workers are highly educated on the value of vaccines and had seen firsthand the perils of COVID-19, reasons to think them capable of making the best decisions for themselves and their patients.

Now, a new study from researchers at Tulane University has found that state-level COVID-19 vaccination mandates successfully increased vaccine rates among health care workers, a finding that, while perhaps unsurprising, provides evidence that the policy can boost vaccination rates even among a highly vaccinated, highly educated population.

The study, published in JAMA Network Open, examined vaccination rates among more than 30,000 health care workers in 45 states, 16 of which issued COVID vaccination mandates. Researchers found a 3-4% increase in vaccinations among the group, an improvement on an already lofty baseline vaccination rate of 86%. The study only found increases in vaccination rates in states that required vaccinations and provided no option to opt-out.

“It’s great from a government perspective to see this policy increase vaccination rates in an already very highly vaccinated population,” said corresponding author Charles Stoecker, a health economist with Tulane University School of Public Health and Tropical Medicine. “These results also show that how we craft these regulations matters. States that provided an option to take a regular COVID test in lieu of getting vaccinated didn’t see the same impacts as the strict mandate states.”

The findings provide valuable insight on the role vaccine mandates can play in the event of a future pandemic and why such mandates may be justified.

“The federal government has shown that it will defer to the states on this issue, and states have rolled back their mandates, but now we know we have this toolkit,” Stoecker said. “In the event of a new pandemic, this shows we’re leaving some vaccination coverage on the table if we let even highly educated health care workers decide for themselves.”

The vaccination increases were primarily seen in health care workers between the ages of 25-49 years. The 16 states which passed and upheld vaccine mandates without opt-outs were California, Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Illinois, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Washington, and Washington, DC.

Stoecker said the next step would be to examine how these mandates affected disease transmission, which could help quantify the economic impact such policies have.

“The ultimate goal would be to be able to assign economic benefits to the vaccinations that happened because of the mandates,” Stoecker said.

jamanetwork.com/journals/jamanetworkopen/fullarticle/2822221

[beardedmrbean]

Friend or foe? Helsingin Sanomat tells the unlikely story of two Finns meeting on the opposite sides of a Ukrainian battlefield.

"Vaasa," who's fighting in the Ukrainian forces, took "Jari," who's in the Russian forces, as a prisoner of war.

Vaasa has a military background and said his decision to fight in Ukraine was largely professional. He explained that in his case, the alternative would have been to join a crisis management force in Lebanon.

Jari was only a few years old when his family moved from the Soviet Union to Finland in the late 1980s. His mother tongue is Finnish and he has lived most of his life in Finland.

HS writes that Jari never found his place in Finnish society and ended up leading a life of crime that eventually prevented him from getting Finnish citizenship. Moving to Russia also didn't turn him away from crime, which eventually resulted in his imprisonment and ultimately led to his deployment on the battlefield.

Jari will likely remain imprisoned in Ukraine. As Jari is not a Finnish citizen, the Finnish authorities have no obligation to help him. His options at the moment are poor, according to HS, which also discusses Vaasa's sympathy for his fellow Finn.

Clever teens

Some 13,000 wildlife accidents occurred on Finnish roads last year, with most involving collisions with deer and elk.

A new invention developed by four teenage girls in the US state of Colorado could help reduce these accidents, reports Ilta-Sanomat, explaining that their device called 'Project Deer' uses infrared cameras and machine learning to notify drivers when an animal might be close.

The project, which began as a school assignment, has already secured $12,000 in funding from tech giant Samsung for a prototype.

Finland's answer to preventing animal collisions has so far been low-tech — fences located along the sides of roads. The Finnish Road Safety Council has, however, pointed out that this system is hardly foolproof, as the risks of colliding with an elk are particularly high in the areas bordering these fences, especially in the dark.

Reclaiming a city park

The City of Helsinki is looking at ways to clean up Katri Vala park in Sörnäinen. Named after a poet, the park has long been synonymous with drug sales and use.

Hufvudstadsbladet reports that plans are underway this autumn to build an eight-meter-high spiral-shaped climbing tower and gym for residents, who say the situation in their neighbourhood is now even worse than it was before.

According to HBL, that's because of the synthetic hallucinogen Alpha PVP which triggers bizarre behaviour.

The paper asked Heikki Porola of the Helsinki Police if he felt drug use and dealing had increased in Katri Vala park.

"This is what we call hidden crime. Of course, we see disruptive behaviour, but I could also list 10 to 15 other places in Helsinki that have the same issues," he said, adding that it was also important for residents themselves to take an active approach to care for their neighbourhoods.

[nozomi-vents]

10/3/2024 (decided to start putting dates on my stuff cause fuck it)

Okay, so I just got back from my manifestation hearing.

I didn't pass, they didn't determine my disability as the cause of what happened (check some of my older posts for context), but for some reason they didn't expel me.

But tbh, they might as well have, because ooh boy did they lose my fucking trust in them, and also my parents trust.

So, my mom brought in some paperwork that had the disorders that I was diagnosed with, and a majority of them are provisional. And during the hearing, they were bringing up my disorders as a possible cause of what happened.

Here's where things start to get really fucked up.

Not only did they refuse to acknowledge the provisional diagnoses, but when my mom tried to mention them to the people at the meeting, they immediately shut her down. And also, they acknowledged the trauma I had to deal with, but refused to connect that to what happened, basically their way of saying that my trauma doesn't affect me. They only acknowledged the autism and ADHD, even though neither of those disorders had any relation to what happened.

AND IT GETS WORSE.

They also mentioned a comment I made to my special education teacher during a split, and how by coincidence the new paraprofessional* had won my trust and therefore I liked her more, and it's made me realize something:

*I've now remember that Mr. Gonzales was a paraprofessional and not a teacher so I apologize for that.

That sped teacher was probably so jealous that she lost my trust and I turned towards that new paraprofessional instead of her, that she's wanting to try and get me expelled so I can "feel the same pain she did" (i'll get into that later), and that was why she agreed when everyone said that what happened wasn't because of my disability and it was because I wanted to get out of school (their words not mine).

All because she ignored me when I asked for help on an assignment about a month or two ago.

Okay, so setting aside the obvious fact that they probably violated an ADA law by flat out ignoring the diagnosed disorders I had, the fact that my school hated me this bad over ONE threat that's probably never gonna happen again, genuinely upsets me.

I don't give a fuck what their "pOLiciES" are, but you do not pretend to care about me and then throw me away when my mental health gets so bad to the point I develop homicidal ideation.

AND IT WASN'T EVEN A FLAT OUT THREAT EITHER, I literally just told my therapist "hey, I'm having homicidal thoughts and need to address it before something happens.", and because I pulled out scissors so that I could remove a potential weapon, they took it as a threat and are punishing me for trying to avoid a genuinely serious situation.

Also, what was going on in their mind when they didn't even acknowledge the provisional diagnoses when the mentions of my disabilities came up?? They KNEW I have bpd and they KNEW it affected my perception of relationships, yet for some reason they only acknowledged the autism and ADHD because they believe that my other disorders aren't real because of the provisional label (and I can't a full BPD diagnosis until I'm 18 cause of the laws where I live but that doesn't mean it's not there).

And the fact that the fucking sped teacher literally let HER emotions about me influence her fucking job as a teacher genuinely baffles me.

If a teacher lets their emotions get in the way of their job and therefore risk the wellbeing of their students, they shouldn't even BE a teacher in the first fucking place.

Honestly idk what else to say anymore...

Fuck Colorado Early Colleges, fuck Mrs. McGregor, and her dumbass kid too. They're all pieces of shit for doing this to me, and they deserve whatever happens to them. I pray for their downfall as much as I pray for Widefield's downfall.

I'm definitely showing this to my therapist next monday, and let's just say my parents aren't having me go back to that school anymore after all this.