#also when we got in the car new world man by rush was on the radio 🥺 they were my dads fav band so im taking it as a ghost wink

[shdwtouch]

I can't believe I'm 25 today 😅 guess I can start following 25+ blogs now, eh ? I'm just. kinda. idk. I just want to have a good day today and not think too much about my existential dread lmao

anyway birthday wishes appreciated 🥺 👉👈 going to a renaissance festival today so I won't be around but I'll respond to stuff when I get home ! also should have pics for munday from the faire ♡

I'll be spotty on discord / mobile. sending love ! and hope everyone has a good day / munday owo

[l4brvtality]

Hello i was asking if you could do Platonic Judgement day x fem reader?

When reader is a lot younger than the rest of them and they have a family bond like siblings or parental views and she is new talent and with all that comes some fame and when out (wherever you like) Reader gets attention from an old man as she walks to the toilets alone? Its okay if you dont want to xx

Silhouette - Pastel Ghost

parings - Platonic!The Judgment Day x Wrestler! Reader - Kinda Rhea x Reader in a way

Warnings - Angst , implications of Feeling lightheaded , weird old man , R! getting knocked into a wall , reader passes out, thats all tell me if I missed some!!

please do not read this if you have suffered trauma from any of these things!!

Word Count - 0.5k

You and The Judgment Day had grown closer as you began wrestler. Damian and Rhea , training you and teaching you new moves that hadnt yet been introduced to you. And although you were a couple years younger than the youngest member of, which was Dominik, you all had a family/sibling dynamic.

You had started yiur wresting career at the 2019 royal rumble , being competiter #15. Although not many people knew you at the time , your career had grown throughout the years. And with the help of The Judgment Day, a fandom grew lager and larger until eventually you got your title shot. 

It was you versus becky lynch for the smackdown women’s championship. You had fought hard and long to get the title shot as none of the other wrestlers made it easier for you. Becky didnt go easy on you either. But image the suprise when you had pinned her, making you the new smack down women’s champion.

Your rise also grew more in 2023. At first not many paid attention to you as far as visuals and talent. But soon enough people started noticing the talent you had not only for promos , but in the ring. This made you a fan favorite around the world. Soon your merch was selling out. You started meeting many fans around the world as you Traveled, and people started recognizing you more and more as time went on. You felt like you were on top of earth. This was your dream after all.

Right now , you were getting ready to go out to a restaurant with The Judgment Day. After all , they are your best friends. You heard the doorbell ring , as you put on the last piece of jewelry for your outfit. You quickly headed downstairs , grabbing your phone and keys as you unlocked the door, met with Dominik , standing outside the door waiting for you. You quickly gave him a hug as he opened his mouth to speak. 

“Hey , you ready?” He asked

“Yup let’s go,” you replied with a smile.

You opened the door of the truck as you were met with the faces of the 3 wrestlers. 

“Hi guys!” You smiled at them.

They all responded with a “hi” as they all gave you separate hugs. Which was hard due to being in the car , but you made it work. Finn drove as you,  Dominik and Damian , and Rhea played game pigeon together in the group chat.

When you guys arrived at the restaurant, the wait hadn’t been long , as a couple minutes of waiting, a waiter had seat you guys at a booth nearby. As you all sat down , a waited came by , introducing themselves and taking our drink orders. After a couple minutes of waiting , the waited came back  with drinks on a trey. We decided on what to order as the waiter took our order.

After ordering , I decided to go wash my hands in the bathroom. As I walked to the bathroom , you didn’t notice a man following nearby. And when you did you hadn’t thought much about it. Maybe he had to go to the bathroom too , you thought. But your thoughts were rushed away when he had followed you into the girls bathroom. Which didn’t go unnoticed by Rhea , as she sat at a good enough view of the bathroom , that she could see the man getting into the bathroom. 

Before you could turn around to see the man, he spoke first.

“Hey , im a big fan I was wondering if I could have an autograph, or maybe your number,” he spoke

You turned to look at the man and realized he was old. I mean he looked like he was in his 60s at-least.

“I can give you an autograph — but not my num-,” I was cut off when he slammed me into a wall. I felt the pain hit my back as I tried getting up , with no luck. 

“Just give me your number its not that hard,” he yelled at you. You wished this could end , why was he doing this and how were you going to get out of this? You could stand , and he was towering over you.

You heard the mans scream as a loud thump echoed in the bathroom. You looked up , your hair mostly in your face as you saw the silhouette of someone. You moved your hair out of your face as you relished it was Rhea. 

“Honey , are you alright,” She spoke. You could she was panicking just by the sound of her breathing.

“I-I cant get up..” you spoke. Still shocked by the events that had occurred in just an hour of being here. Rheas mind stopped for a moment. She wanted to kill this guy. But she knew you and your safety was more important.

“I want to leave Rhea … p-please,” You said again. You felt the tears pricking your eyes as your breathing got heavier. The atmosphere of the bathroom making you feel scared thinking about what took place.

Rhea car-fully picked you up , bridal style as she led you over to the boys. Once they got a view of you and Rhea, they had felt like it had been a punch to their heart. They stopped their conversation as they went to stand up , getting a better look at you.

“Lass what happened?” Finna spoke. He was getting more worried by the second and to be completely honest, so was the rest of the group.

Tried answering, but nothing could come out your mother but silent sobs. Rhea explained what happened, but about halfway though, you had already passed out in Rheas arms.

[muiitoloko]

Title: Spy Daddy on Duty

Summary: Harry Hart, once the epitome of cool under pressure, finds himself in over his head as a new father. As he adjusts to midnight feedings and diaper duty, he learns that love is the most powerful mission of all.

Pairing: Harry Hart × Fem! Reader

Warnings: none

Author's Notes: Thank you very much for your order, I hope you like it.

Also read on Ao3

You stood by the car, breathing as deeply as you could manage, just as the doctor had advised. But each contraction made it harder to focus. You clung to the car door, your knuckles white, your teeth clenched as another wave of pain washed over you. Glancing toward the house, you watched in disbelief as Harry darted in and out, arms full of things you weren’t even sure you needed.

Normally, Harry was composed, calculated—the epitome of a British gentleman who always had a plan. But not today. Today, he was a man possessed. The baby wasn’t due for another five days, but nature had other plans. Your water had broken that morning, and now, Harry was acting like a madman, racing around the house to grab anything and everything in his path.

You chuckled despite the pain, shaking your head at the sight of your husband tripping over his own feet as he tried to juggle a diaper bag, a blanket, and what looked suspiciously like your makeup kit.

Why on earth does he think I’ll need that? you thought, amused.

Harry finally burst out of the house, nearly stumbling as he reached the car, his arms overflowing with bags. “I’ve got everything,” he panted, clearly out of breath. “I—well, I think I’ve got everything. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find the bloody car keys when you’re in a panic!”

You raised an eyebrow at him, biting back a laugh even as another contraction made you grip the door tighter. “Harry, darling,” you said through gritted teeth, “I think the hospital is slightly more important than my makeup bag.”

Harry glanced down at the kit in his hand, blinking as if he hadn’t even realized he’d grabbed it. “Oh... right,” he muttered, tossing it into the back seat haphazardly. “Don’t worry, I’ve got the essentials,” he added, clearly flustered.

You couldn’t help but tease him, despite the situation. “The essentials? Like my mascara?”

Harry flushed, running a hand through his hair as he opened the car door for you. “Well, I might have panicked a bit, but can you blame me? Our baby’s coming, love! Early!”

You managed a smile, even as the pain surged again. “I know, Harry. But we need to get to the hospital, now,” you reminded him, gently pulling yourself into the passenger seat as he helped you in. “Breathe, darling. You’re acting like you’re the one giving birth.”

Harry grumbled as he rushed to the driver’s side, still clearly rattled. “I know, I know. But this wasn’t in the plan. Five days early, for God’s sake. I haven’t even prepared the playlist for the drive. How am I supposed to bring our child into the world without the right music?”

You couldn’t help it; you burst out laughing. “The playlist, Harry? Is that really what you’re worried about right now?”

He started the car, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he glanced over at you, his expression somewhere between desperation and determination. “Well, I had a whole soundtrack planned, something fitting for the arrival of our little one. I wanted it to be perfect.”

Another contraction hit, and you winced, trying to breathe through it. “Trust me, darling, I don’t need a soundtrack right now,” you said through gritted teeth, grabbing his hand for comfort. “I just need you to get me to the hospital, now.”

Harry’s jaw clenched as he pulled out of the driveway, his usual calm demeanor replaced with frantic energy. “Right. Hospital. On it,” he muttered, shifting gears with far more intensity than necessary. He glanced at you again, his eyes filled with a mixture of worry and affection. “I swear I’m handling this like a pro.”

You gave him a sideways look, barely able to keep a straight face. “Yes, Harry. You’re doing... amazing,” you said, fighting through another wave of pain.

“Bloody hell, they didn’t teach us this in Kingsman,” he muttered, glancing nervously at you as if you might explode at any second. “You’d think after surviving everything we’ve been through, I’d be better at this.”

You squeezed his hand, trying to comfort him despite your own discomfort. “You’re doing fine, Harry. Just keep driving.” Another contraction hit, and you groaned, gripping the armrest. “And maybe... drive a little faster?”

Harry glanced at the speedometer, then hit the gas. “Right, faster. I can do that. I’m bloody Galahad, after all.”

You couldn’t help but laugh through the pain. “Yes, Agent Galahad, the most formidable spy in the world... and completely undone by a baby.”

Harry shot you a look, his lips twitching in amusement despite the situation. “Hey, this isn’t just any baby. This is our baby, and that makes it the most important mission of my life.”

You smiled through the pain, your heart swelling with affection for your frantic, caring husband. Even in his current state of panic, you knew there was no one else you’d rather have by your side for this.

As the contractions grew closer together, you breathed deeply, focusing on the road ahead. Harry might have been a bit of a mess in this moment, but his love and devotion were undeniable. And in a few short hours, you’d have your little family, perfect in its own messy, beautiful way.

"Hold on, love," Harry said, gripping your hand as he sped toward the hospital, determination etched on his face. "We’re almost there. Just breathe. I’ve got you."

Days after your whirlwind delivery, the house was filled with a sense of warmth and newness as you watched Harry beam with pride while introducing little Thomas to Eggsy and Merlin. The two had come by to visit, but Harry, in true Harry fashion, had made it quite clear that no one but you or himself was allowed to hold the baby.

Eggsy, standing by the couch with a smirk on his face, glanced down at the tiny bundle of joy in Harry's arms. “Come on, bruv,” Eggsy teased, raising an eyebrow. “You’re telling me I can’t even hold the little fella for a sec?”

Harry stood tall, cradling Thomas with utmost care. His expression was firm, though there was a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you, Eggsy,” Harry replied smoothly. “You can admire him from a safe distance, but I’m not risking my son in your… unpredictable hands.”

Merlin chuckled from the corner of the room, sipping his tea. “He’s got a point, Eggsy. I’ve seen you handle explosives. Not sure a baby is much safer.”

Eggsy shot Merlin a playful glare, then turned back to Harry with an exaggerated sigh. “You’ve gone soft, mate. Can’t even share the little one with your own protégé.”

Harry’s response was quick, his voice laced with that familiar dry humor. “There’s a significant difference between handing you a grenade and handing you my newborn son, Eggsy. Thomas is far more precious.”

As the men bantered back and forth, you sat nearby, watching them with a soft smile. The dynamic between them was as entertaining as ever, but what warmed your heart the most was the way Harry kept looking down at Thomas, his entire demeanor softening whenever he glanced at his son.

Then, right on cue, Thomas let out a small whimper, his tiny fists curling as he started to fuss. Harry immediately looked down, concern etched on his face. “Ah, someone’s getting a bit peckish,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that gentle, soothing tone he used only with you and now, it seemed, his son.

You stood up, crossing the room to take the baby from Harry. “Come here, darling,” you cooed, taking Thomas into your arms. Harry handed him over carefully, his gaze following every movement. "I’ll take him upstairs to feed him."

As you headed upstairs with Thomas, you could hear Eggsy snickering behind you. “Bet he’d let me hold him now,” Eggsy muttered, earning a swift glare from Harry.

Merlin chimed in, deadpan, “Don’t push your luck.”

Once you were out of sight, you imagined Harry might relax a little, but knowing him, he’d still keep one ear attuned to every noise coming from upstairs.

As you settled into the nursery to feed Thomas, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly to yourself, imagining the awkwardness now filling the living room. Sure enough, downstairs, the silence stretched uncomfortably for a few beats before Eggsy, never one for too much quiet, broke the tension.

He leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms with a smirk on his face. "So, Daddy Hart, how does it feel to have your hands full with nappies instead of grenades? Bet you never thought you'd be trading in the 'most dangerous spy in the world' title for 'world’s most protective dad,' did ya?"

Harry, seated at the table with his tea, remained perfectly composed, barely sparing Eggsy a glance. He took a measured sip of his tea, the cup balanced delicately in his fingers. "I’m still the most dangerous man in any room I walk into, Eggsy. Whether I’m holding a gun, a grenade, or my son. But if you’d like a demonstration, I’d be happy to oblige," he said coolly, though the teasing edge in his voice wasn’t lost on Eggsy or Merlin.

Merlin, not one to miss an opportunity, joined in, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "Oh, don’t let him fool you, Eggsy. I remember a time when Harry here swore up and down that he’d never settle down, never get married, and certainly never have children. 'Kingsman is more important than any relationship,' he used to say. 'The mission comes first.'” Merlin’s voice dropped an octave, mocking Harry’s serious tone.

Harry gave Merlin a sidelong glance, lips twitching as he fought back a smile. "I don’t recall being that dramatic about it, Merlin," he countered, though a faint blush crept up his neck. He shifted slightly, crossing one leg over the other, his calm demeanor never wavering.

Eggsy wasn’t letting up, though. "Nah, mate, Merlin’s right. I remember you being all 'I don’t need attachments,'” Eggsy mimicked in a posh accent, leaning forward with a grin. "And now look at you. You’ve got a wife, a kid, and I bet you’re trading in your bulletproof suit for nappies and baby bottles."

Merlin chuckled, shaking his head as he took a sip of his tea. "It’s true, Harry. You’ve gone soft. Used to be all about the mission, all about duty. Now? You’re more likely to be found changing a nappy than taking down an international arms dealer."

Harry rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Don’t mistake fatherhood for weakness, Merlin," he said smoothly, setting his tea down on the table with a soft clink. "I’m perfectly capable of changing a nappy and taking down a room full of armed men, all in the same day." His eyes glinted with that familiar confidence, but there was a softness there now, a warmth that wasn’t present before.

Eggsy, never one to leave well enough alone, leaned in with a mischievous grin. "Come on, Harry, admit it. You were all 'no attachments,' but now you’re attached as hell. You’ve gone full domestic. You’ve got a kid hanging off your hip and a wife upstairs who’s got you wrapped around her finger."

Harry glanced at Eggsy, his brow arching in that calm, authoritative way he had mastered over the years. "There’s nothing wrong with being attached to the people who matter most, Eggsy," he said smoothly. "Besides," he added, his voice dropping just enough to be dangerous, "my wife has more than earned the right to wrap me around her finger—among other things."

Merlin nearly choked on his tea, while Eggsy’s eyes widened comically. "Bloody hell, Harry!" Eggsy exclaimed, laughing despite himself. "Didn’t need to know what goes on in the Hart bedroom, mate!"

Harry’s smirk deepened, his brown eyes glinting wickedly. "If you can’t handle a little innuendo, Eggsy, then you’re clearly still not ready for the big leagues," he quipped, his voice laced with that familiar dry humor. "But don’t worry," he continued, picking up his tea once more. "I’m sure, given time, you’ll find someone who’ll give you a proper education on the matter."

Merlin chuckled, shaking his head as he set down his cup. "It’s hard to imagine this is the same Harry Hart who once said emotions were distractions. Now you’re waxing poetic about love and loyalty."

Harry leaned back in his chair, his eyes softening ever so slightly. "There’s nothing wrong with emotions, Merlin. They give us something to fight for. Something worth protecting." His gaze drifted upstairs, toward where you were with Thomas. "And some things," he added quietly, his voice filled with conviction, "are more important than any mission."

Eggsy raised his hands in surrender, laughing softly. "Alright, alright. You win, Daddy Hart. Just don’t expect me to call you if I ever need babysitting advice."

Harry’s lips twitched in amusement, his gaze sharpening once more as he turned his attention back to his tea. "Don’t worry, Eggsy. I’m sure you’ll need far more than babysitting advice when the time comes."

Eggsy groaned, throwing his head back with a laugh. "I walked right into that one, didn’t I?"

Merlin smiled knowingly, raising his cup in salute. "You always do, Eggsy. You always do."

As they continued to joke and laugh, the atmosphere in the room remained light, but beneath the banter, there was a deep sense of camaraderie and respect. Harry, despite the teasing, was no less the formidable spy and gentleman they all knew him to be. But now, he had something more—something that made him even stronger. And as he sat there, sipping his tea with that faint, satisfied smile, it was clear that Harry Hart had never been more complete.

You woke up with a groan as Thomas’ cries echoed through the baby monitor, breaking the peaceful silence of the early morning. The small digital screen on the nightstand displayed 2:58 a.m., far too early for any sane person to be awake. You let out another sigh, rolling over in bed to face Harry, who lay next to you, dead to the world.

Gently, you nudged him with your elbow. “Harry,” you whispered, still half-asleep. “Your turn.”

Harry stirred slightly, but instead of getting up, he buried his face deeper into the pillow and grumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “It’s your turn,” he muttered, barely coherent, his arm wrapping tighter around the duvet as if that would shield him from the morning duties of fatherhood.

You blinked, half amused and half exasperated. “No, love, I did the last two feedings. It’s your turn,” you insisted, nudging him again. Thomas' cries grew louder, his wails carrying the urgent demand of a newborn who was thoroughly unimpressed with the delay.

Harry groaned dramatically, rolling onto his back and rubbing a hand over his face. “He’s only been alive for a few weeks and already he’s got the lungs of a bloody opera singer,” he mumbled, his deep voice laced with tired humor. “Fine, fine. I’m going,” he sighed, pushing back the covers.

You couldn’t help but smirk as you watched him sit up and swing his legs over the edge of the bed. "Thank you, darling. I knew you'd see reason."

Harry shot you a tired but playful glare, his brown eyes twinkling with mischief despite the early hour. "You owe me one," he grumbled as he padded toward the nursery.

Thomas' cries were still going strong as Harry entered the room. He approached the crib with all the grace of a seasoned spy on a mission, but his expression softened as he looked down at his son, whose tiny fists were clenched in frustration.

"Alright, alright, my little troublemaker," Harry said softly, leaning down to pick Thomas up, his hands gentle and sure despite the exhaustion. “What have you done to yourself now?”

As he lifted the baby, the unmistakable smell hit him, and Harry's face contorted in a comical grimace. "Bloody hell, Thomas," he muttered, holding the baby at arm's length for a moment, his brow furrowed. "That’s impressive, even for you."

He laid Thomas on the changing table and quickly undid the diaper, only to discover the full extent of the disaster. "Christ, you’ve outdone yourself, son," Harry said, his tone somewhere between amusement and horror. “I’ve seen less carnage in a Kingsman mission.”

You, still in bed but awake enough to hear the running commentary, couldn’t suppress a laugh. "Everything alright in there, love?"

Harry glanced toward the door, shaking his head. "Define 'alright,'" he called back, his voice laced with dry humor. "Our son appears to be an overachiever in the art of diaper destruction."

You snickered, pulling the blanket up to your chin as you heard Harry muttering to himself while cleaning up the mess. “You’ve handled much worse, Harry,” you teased, “I’m sure a dirty diaper is no match for Galahad.”

Harry shot a mock-glare in your direction, though you couldn’t see it from where you lay. “I’d rather face a room full of armed thugs than this,” he muttered, wiping Thomas down with practiced precision. “This is the true test of my mettle.”

With a clean diaper finally secured, Harry picked up Thomas and cradled him against his chest, his earlier grumbles forgotten as he looked down at the tiny, content baby. "There, all better, my boy," he murmured, his voice soft and affectionate as he rocked Thomas gently. "Now let's give your mother a bit of peace, shall we?"

Harry walked back to the bedroom, the baby nestled comfortably in his arms. You watched them enter, a small smile tugging at your lips as Harry stood in the doorway, looking every bit the picture of a proud father despite the chaos of the last few minutes.

“I’ll feed him,” Harry offered, his voice a mix of tiredness and devotion as he headed toward the rocking chair in the corner of the room. "He’s already had his fun with the nappy. Let’s see if we can get him back to sleep without more theatrics."

You smiled sleepily, your heart swelling with affection as you watched Harry settle into the chair with Thomas. Despite the early morning disruptions and the dirty diaper, there was something undeniably heartwarming about watching Harry with your son. His gruff complaints and dirty jokes were only a thin veneer over the genuine love and devotion he had for his family.

As Thomas began to feed, the room quieted, the only sounds now the soft suckling and Harry's low, soothing voice as he murmured to the baby. “You’re going to be just like your mum,” Harry whispered, his words barely audible. "Strong, stubborn, and far too clever for your own good."

You chuckled softly, burying your face into the pillow. “I heard that.”

Harry glanced over at you, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “I meant every word, love.”

As the room fell back into the peaceful quiet of the early morning, you closed your eyes, feeling content despite the late hour. Harry might grumble about dirty diapers and sleepless nights, but there was no doubt that he was made for this. A protective, loving father and husband who, despite his dirty mouth and occasional grumbles, wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

“Just wait until he starts crawling,” you whispered, half-asleep now.

Harry chuckled softly from the corner. “God help us both when that day comes,” he murmured. "But until then, I suppose we’ll survive. Even if our little Agent-in-training here enjoys testing our limits.”

You smiled, drifting back into sleep, comforted by the knowledge that whatever challenges came your way—whether it was late-night feedings or another dirty diaper—Harry would be right there by your side, cracking dirty jokes and making it all just a little bit easier to handle.

Thomas drained the bottle of milk, his small, delicate mouth working rhythmically until the bottle was empty. Harry watched with a gentle smile, the warmth in his chest growing as his son’s tiny hand rested against the bottle. Once Thomas had finished, Harry set the bottle aside and gently lifted him onto his shoulder, patting his back with careful, practiced movements. It didn’t take long before a soft, sleepy burp escaped the baby, and Harry chuckled quietly, his voice barely a murmur in the dimly lit room.

"That’s my boy," Harry whispered, rubbing Thomas’s back soothingly as the baby began to drift off into sleep again. He stood there for a moment, rocking him gently, making sure he was completely settled before carrying him back to the crib. With the utmost care, Harry placed Thomas down, his movements slow and deliberate as he tucked the blanket around the tiny, sleeping form.

For a moment, Harry lingered by the crib, watching Thomas’s chest rise and fall with each peaceful breath. The sight of his son, so small and vulnerable, filled him with a quiet sense of awe. He reached down, gently brushing his fingers against the sole of Thomas’s foot, watching as the baby’s toes curled reflexively. A soft smile played on Harry’s lips, a mixture of love and amazement.

"Sweet dreams, little one," he murmured softly, straightening up but not leaving just yet. He couldn’t help but watch Thomas for a few more seconds, soaking in the moment of quiet bliss that came with seeing his son sleep so soundly.

Eventually, Harry tore himself away from the crib, padding softly across the nursery and back into the bedroom. The house was still, and when he slipped back under the covers beside you, he moved with the same care, not wanting to wake you. You were fast asleep, your breathing soft and steady, completely unaware of the world around you.

Harry turned toward you, his arm sliding gently around your waist as he pulled you close. He nestled into you, his chin resting against your shoulder, his body relaxing into the warmth of yours. In the quiet darkness, with Thomas peacefully asleep in the next room, Harry felt a wave of gratitude wash over him, deeper than words could express.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, though you didn’t stir. He knew you couldn’t hear him, but the words needed to be said. "Thank you for our son. For this family. For everything."

Harry’s grip around your waist tightened ever so slightly, his lips brushing against the back of your neck in a soft, affectionate kiss. You shifted slightly in your sleep, but didn’t wake, your body instinctively pressing back into his embrace.

For Harry, this was perfection. The chaos of the world outside, the dangers of his work, the sleepless nights—none of it mattered when he had this. You and Thomas were his world now, and in this quiet, still moment, he allowed himself to feel the fullness of his love for you both.

He closed his eyes, his heart full as he whispered one last time, "I love you," before letting sleep finally claim him, content in the knowledge that his family was right where they belonged—safe, loved, and together.

[nataliawrites]

My Boyfriend’s Not in the Mafia // Charles Leclerc

I’ve been having issues with my posts disappearing from the tags so I’m going to give reposting this a try

It was funny at first. You didn’t really think anything of it the first time … or the second … or the third.

When you landed your dream job straight out of college and traded in the familiar streets of your hometown for the glitz and glam of Monaco, you didn’t know what to expect. But the reality ended up being more than you could have dreamed of.

You had a crooked cobblestone and poorly closed latte to thank for that. One wrong step saw you flung across the sidewalk. Fortunately, someone managed to catch you before your head became the street’s next victim. Unfortunately, his white linen shirt also caught the remnants of your coffee.

That’s how you met Charles Leclerc. Who needs a meet cute when you could have a “I’m mortified and can’t ever show my face in the second-smallest sovereign state in the world again” cute?

Of course you didn’t exactly know who he was at first but the gigantic billboard of his face next to the Prancing Horse that you passed on the way to your first date clued you in pretty quickly.

As you became more serious, you never intended to keep your relationship secret. But it was the off-season and that meant that Charles could mostly stay out of the spotlight while the two of you relished in your own little bubble. The honeymoon phase never felt sweeter.

But then your coworkers started asking questions. They saw the Ferrari (and the other Ferrari and the other Ferrari and the other Ferrari) that often dropped you off in the mornings and picked you up at night. They saw how you started to rush out for your lunch break instead of spending it in the office. They saw the new earrings and bracelets and necklaces and shoes and lots and lots of red accents.

“Who is he?”

You turn towards your coworker, Stephanie, as you go to refill your water bottle after lunch. “Who is who?”

She wiggles an eyebrow, “Your new man!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Your other coworker, Jacob, walks over from across the room. “Don’t be coy. We have eyes.”

Stephanie laughs, “And my eyes are telling me that you’ve found yourself a trust fund kid. No judgement here — get that bag!”

“One,” your raise a finger, “he’s not a trust fund kid. And two,” you raise another, “it’s not about money. I really like him.”

Stephanie squeals with as much zeal as she can manage in a corporate office, “I knew it! You have a man.”

Jacob chimes in, “So trust fund kid’s out … I’m betting on an oligarch.”

“Or a torrid affair with a politician.” Stephanie seems way too excited at the prospect.

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, “He does something much more dangerous.”

“He’s in the mafia?”

“Damn, you’ve got yourself a mobster.”

You don’t grace them with a reply, just laughing the teasing away.

You should have just straight up denied it. You knew that. But you were having too much fun and what harm could a little joke possibly have? You just didn’t expect the photos you posted on Instagram from when you joined Charles in Maranello and then explored northern Italy together to have your work friends quite so suspicious.

Stephanie and Jacob corner you as soon as you step out of the elevator on your first day back from vacation.

Stephanie starts, “So Italy …”

“Where the mafia is from. What a coincidence!” Jacob finishes.

“Wait,” Stephanie focuses on your neck, “that’s a new necklace.” She spots the patent red bottoms of your new more fashion than function stilettos, “and those are new shoes!”

“We were in Milan!” You explained. “You can’t not go shopping in Milan.”

“Yeah,” Jacob laughs, “you and your mafioso sugar daddy.”

To be fair, the phone call they overheard between you and Charles the next day didn’t help much.

“Did you manage to get the blood out?”

He sighed through the phone, “Yes, finally! Only took me two hours of scrubbing. Remind me not to scratch my leg on a cliff and not notice while it bleeds on my car’s leather the next time we go to the beach.”

Your back turned to them, you don’t even notice the wide eyed look that Stephanie and Jacob exchange.

When your birthday approached right before the season started up, you finally decided to introduce Charles to your friends. Your family, the Leclercs, and your friends would be joining you for dinner at your favorite local restaurant.

Charles was standing next to you, welcoming your guests and inviting them to sit down for dinner, when Stephanie and Jacob walked in.

You think they would’ve looked less shocked if Charles was actually in the mafia.

Jacob stutters, “You’re … you’re-”

“CHARLES LECLERC!” Stephanie managed to find her voice.

Charles extended a hand and chuckled, “Hope I don’t disappoint. Y/N told me you thought I was in the mafia. I’m not quite at that level.”

Your best friends from work turned the same color as Charles’ race suit.

[metalmonki]

Objection!

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

1k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Next Chapter

The day had finally come. I had successfully graduated Harvard Law. My Mum, Dad, brother Sonny and sisters Bella, Teresa and Gina had made the trip out of Staten Island to witness the graduation. The youngest of the Carisi clan, I choose to follow Sonny into the criminal prosecution career track. Sonny had recently transferred to the Elite Manhattan Special Victims Unit and was also studying at Fordham Law ‘to make myself a better detective’ he had said. Sonny and I, despite our 11-year age gap, were completely inseparable. He had been the one who got the rest of our family together to be here today. Sonny is the whole reason I was graduating today. He had encouraged me even after Mum and Dad had voiced their disappointment at my choice.

I had barely made it off the stage when Sonny had scooped me up in his arms and began spinning us around. He had the worlds biggest smile on his face and repeated over and over again how proud he was of me. Our parents and sisters soon joined us.

“I’m going to cook a big feast tonight just for you” Mom smiled.

“You always cook a big feast, that’s every meal for you” Dad scoffed.

“Oh shush you cranky old man” Mum swatted at him with open hands.

We all laughed at the pair and walked off to the cars. We had a long drive ahead of us back to Staten Island. After dinner I would then have to drive back into Manhattan with Sonny. I had come here with Sonny yesterday from his apartment in Manhattan and had no choice but to go back there with him tonight. Now I had graduated I had no clue what I was suppose to do. I had been applying for positions in almost every law firm in New York with no luck. I’d even applied for the DA’s office with no success. I knew Sonny would let me live with him for however long it took for me to find my feet. He had insisted on it in fact when I’d moved back to New York last month. This had been Mum and Dads complaint. I would waste my time on a piece of paper that would lead me nowhere. I’d even put in an extra two years on a masters degree just to increase my chances.

“Hay kiddo is everything okay?” Sonny spoke up “You’ve been silent for the last 45 minutes and you look worried”

“Maybe Mum and Dad were right” Was all I could get out.

“About what? Don’t tell me your doubting yourself now” Sonny smiled over at me.

“I spent the whole month applying for positions with no luck, all I’ve managed is a minimum wage bodega job. I can’t rely on you forever Sonny, you have your own life, the woman at work you said you fancy, while I just wasted six years to get a piece of paper that’s turning out to be useless. I wanted to be up there with the greats like Alexander Cabot and Rafael Barba” I sighed picking at my nails.

“Y/N Carisi always worrying” Sonny chuckled “Give it time you’ll get something soon; you don’t need to rush”

“I’m not trying to rush I just don’t like not knowing” I threw my hands up.

But wait I did. For 9 months I applied for any law jobs that came up. I worked my ass off at the bodega, saving every penny I could to get out of Sonny’s flat. Then one day it happened. I had been busy cooking dinner, a simple chicken alfredo, when Sonny basically smashed his way through the door. I hadn’t expected him home until much later. I knew they were having trouble catching the Central Park Strangler as the papers had dubbed him. A horrid man who would stalk lone women in central park, strangle and rape them. Sonny had said he was escalating an attack every night, he hadn’t killed anyone yet but Sonny was sure he would soon. He had made me promise not to leave the flat alone at night until they got the guy. He had left DNA at every scene so as soon as they got him he was going away for life. No chance of a plea bargain, no way to weasel out of it. Sonny had a huge smile on his face as he walked into the kitchen.

“I’m guessing by the smile on your face you caught your guy? That or you finally grew a pair and asked Amanda out and she said yes” I chuckled.

“Yes, well no, but yes” Sonny stumbled over his words while he hung his coat up and took his shoes off.

“Well which is it?” I laughed.

“We caught the guy, Barba had him shipped to rikers an hour ago” Sonny put his brief case on the bench and dug through it producing a manila envelope. “I also got this for you” he handed the envelope to me. 

I wiped my hands off on my apron and took the envelope. I turned it over in my hands taking note of the District Attorneys office logo in the corner. I disregarded it as just being an envelope Sonny had handy. I turned the envelope over once more and unwound the string keeping it closed. Inside was a stack of paperwork maybe 30 pages thick. Written on top of the first sheet in bold letters were the words OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT. I looked up shocked at Sonny before looking back at the papers. We are pleased to offer you a position as an assistant to ADA Rafael Barba at the New York District  Attorney Office.

“Oh Sonny this is amazing thank you”  I pulled him into a hug.

“It was nothing I just called in a favour when I heard Barba needed some extra help”  Sonny chuckled “All you need to do is fill in the forms and drop them off to Barba tomorrow. He says he’ll in his office from 3 onward”.

“I’ll fill them in first thing but for now lets eat!”.

“Oh you mean the food that’s burning on the stove?” Sonny chuckled.

“Shit!” I spun back to the stove but it was pointless the chicken had already started turning black and the pasta was almost boiled dry.

“I’ll order out and you can trying to salvage my pot and pan” Sonny laughed walking off phone in hand.

[hamilando]

ੈ✩‧₊ One Step ੈ✩‧₊

Pairing : Seunghan x Gn! Reader

Genre : Idol au, Angst

Song : Happier than ever ( rock version) by Billie Eilish

TW: Depression, cyber bullying, idol life , suide

A/N : This is a very sensitive fic, I wrote this because all that's happening with Seunghan is absolutely not fair, not only him but other idols also suffer. We need to realise they are also human and it's their first time living too.

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

The car horns were blaring, the wind forcing the boy to keep his eyes open. Standing on top of the roof edge, his eyes blurred, with tears or with regret, he could not tell. He may have made mistakes in the past, but he wondered how much he could take before he could give up.

His ideal dream of debuting in an idol group, discovering the wonders of the world while touring and singing his lungs out had been reduced to an hope which was being extinguished by some jealous friends of his on the Internet. Seunghan debuted as a member of RIIZE, a group under the biggest entertainment in South Korea, fame finding them before they could even step out of the basement.

It scared him, how he was not afraid to die, rather afraid of being wrong in front of some users on the internet.

The life he sacrificed everything for, snatched away because he had a few moments of joy, but now he was fighting for the courage to live than kill himself. He felt broken, like that last piece in a puzzle that was not fitting. He was only human, 'it was your fault' ringing inside his head. He brought disgrace to his group, he brought disgrace to his family, all would be gone if he took a step. One step to his freedom, one step to his new life, one step to happiness.

"Does it ever stop hurting?"

Seunghan turned around and saw a person's shadow, but the tears flowing made it difficult to make out who it was.

"Of course it does, once the blood seeps out." His voice quavered.

"Go ahead and leave then, everyone does."

"They hated me in life, maybe they could love in death."

"It's worth giving a try to relive."

"Reliving where I don't have to starve myself to sing, carve my name in trophies to redeem myself."

"You failed in living, what makes you think you will succeed in dying."

"I kept running behind success, let this fall make it run after me."

Seunghan could feel a smile creep on his face, the feel of ending it all making the adrenaline rush in his body, the same adrenaline feeling he got before his first ever debut stage. Oh, but look at irony, a smile starting the movie, an even bigger smile to finish the movie. A movie well criticised by those who could never feel the making of it.

"If all you had to do was run, you should have joined a marathon team."

"At least there I would run towards my goal and not away from it."

The person took a few steps forward, hands in pocket due to the cold wind blowing, Seunghan just staring at the person in front of him.

"Is this you speaking or the adrenaline in you speaking because you are standing on the edge?"

Seunghan scoffed at the question, he was considering taking his life right here and this person was taking it as a joke,

"Of course it's me, I won't be standing here because of a dare."

"Well, then I dare you, come down the edge and say you want to jump off, look me in the eyes and say you want to jump off."

"I can say all that from right here."

"I know you can, but just come down once."

"Once you reach the top, it's difficult to come down"

"Then don't look down, look at me, I am here for you."

"I am glad, but it's a little late to be here for me."

Talking made it all the tougher for Seunghan to clear his mind. With a last glance at the person in front of him, he turned facing the city lights and said with confidence,

"Why would I come down when right now I feel the happiest man on top of the world?"

With that he took the step, deaf to the screams of the person behind him, deaf to the car horns blaring, deaf to the screams of his fans on debut, deaf to affections of his parents, deaf to the laughter of his members,

deaf to the little voice in his brain saying "one more chance was all that was needed."

[kairiscorner]

Hii! No need to rush but could you do a fic where the reader is also a spider-person and gets sucked into Miles’ dimension just like in itsv and noir and them get a long really well and end up being shipped by the rest? I think it’d be quite cute :D also sorry if this isn’t that elaborate ToT

hiya anon !! ╰(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)╯ dw about it !! i just hope you like this <:))

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

well, this was certainly a conundrum. the flashing lights of brooklyn practically blinded you, coupled with the sudden sounds and buzzing from the people, establishments, and cars passing by. you were disoriented, your spider sense was out of whack for the time being, and you could only wonder, 'this isn't my city... where am i?'

you aimlessly wandered around the city, accidentally bumping into people here and there, almost getting run over when you missed the green pedestrian light, and bumping into a few too many streetlamps. you hated how familiar yet foreign this city felt to you; one minute, you minding your own business while swinging around your city, doing your rounds and all. but as you were swinging... you felt yourself gravitate to something. everything else around you--leaves, newspapers, plastic bags, even you yourself were getting drawn to this force.

it turned out to be a portal that opened up from somewhere else into your world; and try as you might to resist it and its pull, you were eventually sucked in and thrown into this city. "what i would give to... find someone who had the slightest clue about what the hell is--oomph!" you exclaimed as you felt a slight tingle crawl up through your shoulders, raise the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck, but the sudden collision between you and what felt like a tall man had interrupted that sense of yours from telling you what, or who, exactly was in front of you.

"oh, good heavens, you okay there?" asked a gentlemanly, kind of dapper-sounding voice. the man you bumped into held you up, with you eventually clinging on to him as you nearly fell over due to how disoriented you were from this new city's endlessly bright lights and loud noises. "i'm fine... sorry." you murmured as the man held you up and dusted you off a little. you got a better look of the guy and he tipped his fedora a little, and you noticed when you glanced at his attire from head to toe, you felt the tingle again through your bones this time--and you could tell he did, too.

"you're like me." you both announced in unison. you sighed in relief and felt yourself smile from underneath your mask. "yeah! yeah, i am, and you are! ok, um... do you have any clue where we are?" you asked him, hoping the monochrome man in the trench coat and fedora had any idea where you two were, but it seemed he was just as lost as you were. "i'm afraid i'm in the dark about this whole place too. i was kind of hoping someone would come along and show me around, but i guess the universe is too much of a joker to take peter parker seriously." he said with a slight chuckle as you sighed in disappointment, now.

"well... guess we're both lost, parker, was it?" you asked him with a raised eyebrow as he tipped his fedora again and nodded. "peter benjamin parker, please to meet ya." he said as he extended his gloved hand. you introduced yourself, and you noticed peter looking over your spider suit in awe. "you have such... a wonderful taste in fashion." he said with a smile underneath his mask. you smiled back, without even seeing his smile. "thanks, i've been told it's a little too colorful, though. i was considering toning it down, but i'm glad you like it." you replied. "ah, i've got the same problem, too. a lot of people have told me my getup is more like a mortician than it is a private investigator, let alone as a 'superhero'." he rambled a little as you listened to him.

"i guess we both have our problems with how people see us, then. but it's better than facing those problems alone, no?" you asked as you looked up at him. "certainly is." he responded. you two had agreed to swing over to the nearest rooftop and find answers from there, and all the while, you two talked on and on about each other's home universes and the lives you two lived there. "sounds cool, your universe, i mean. what if i brought you like, maybe, a glow in the dark ceiling decor?" you offered, to which peter almost lost his grip from his webbing. "you decorate ceilings? with... things that 'glow in the dark'? fascinating..." he said as he held on to his webbing tighter and his hat as the wind threatened to blow it away. "i'd love to have you over, though! maybe after this whole debacle, i can show you all the finest spots my home has to offer!" he said as you two swung around, and you found yourself agreeing to it already before even knowing him for an hour.

after the whole collider fight, you rushed up to peter and embraced him tightly. "i knew you could make it out, with a champ like you, of course you would!" he exclaimed happily as he held you tightly. "and so did you, big man." you said as you chuckled in excitement and happiness at your group's victory. you could feel everyone else's eyes on you two, and the best part was... they were waiting for this moment to happen ever since you two joined their ensemble.

"i told you they had something going on together." peni said with a smile as ham held her hand, blowing a comically loud and exaggerated sniffle into a cloth he summoned from his hammerspace. "they were always destined to be in love!" he exclaimed as he cried into the cloth. you looked up to see them all looking at you and peter, and you immediately took your hands off him, a little hastily and still smiling widely like a dork. "we're just really happy we won!" you tried clearing it up, but peter wouldn't let go of you and still hugged you tightly. "yeah, we won, now lemme hug 'em, yeah?" peter said as the others chuckled, with some crying out of happiness for you two.

you looked at peter, with peter looking back at you. you placed both of your hands on his cheeks and smiled. "can i... visit your world for a little bit, when we find a way to do that safely?" you asked him as he leaned a little closer toward you. "oh, darling... i'd let you be with me every time. i do wanna see your world, too--maybe the universe will finally come along for peter benjamin parker now and let us be happy at each other's sides--" "oooookay, that's enough people, move along, chop chop, let's go home." said peter b as he cut off your peter at the sight of how loving he was being to you. "quick word of advice, if you two get married, never invest in a spider-themed restaurant, they will hate you forever." he whispered to your peter, who took mental note of that.

"guess this is... goodbye." you told him as you held his hand, not wanting to let go. "no, doll... it's a see you soon, i promise." he said as he swiftly planted a soft kiss on your forehead as he let go of your hand and lifted his mask up to show you his face--his charming, sweet smile that promised to meet you again very soon.

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @connors-cumslurper

[colossalcriminal]

One for the Money, Two for the Show - a.h

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: The title of father looms on Aaron, and he can’t seem to let go of his mistress, and she wants nothing but for him to provide her with release.

Content warnings: cheating, swearing, takes place in s1 episode 1. angst??

Aaron Hotchner’s lifelong tenure as a family man begins now.

He’s got his wife, his baby’s on the way, a nice house and a big car, a true family man.

It was inevitable for him, he wasn’t the kind to doubt marriage or children, life would take its course and he would let it, and he was sure he’d never have the chance of interacting with anything that would change that.

This odd, perhaps even life-altering, wonder had arrived in 2004, in the form of a new team member, a pretty girl. Mankind's greatest enemy would be a pretty girl. One singular woman could be so captivating she could tear down industries and destroy the world's infrastructure, and he was sure he had met her.

He himself was fresh in Quantico, just in from Seattle.

"Do you need any help?"

He wanted to decline her offer, he really did, but the intoxicating scent of strawberries had taken over his brain, and he could not produce the word 'No'. "You don't need to."

Y/N waved him off, sitting down across from him, picking up half the stack of his papers. "No worries, I like helping. I'm also trying to make a good impression."

“Don’t worry, I think you’ve made a good one.” He reassured.

Several hours passed them by, the sun had risen in their hours of work, light was peeking through the closed blinds and it was finally Saturday morning. They were much quieter now, and she had moved to sit beside him rather than across. "Take a coffee break?"

The older agent shook his head. "If I drink any more coffee, I'm never going to sleep again." She giggled, pouring herself a mug before leaning on the desk, looking down at him. "You can go now, really, I can finish this off."

She didn't budge. "I'm not leaving you behind, Hotchner." Her tone was teasing, a smirk accompanying her words. “What was it like in Seattle?”

“Rainy.”

“Oh, I love the rain.” His eyebrow is raised. “It’s romantic.”

Their faces are close together, she can smell the remnants of his aftershave and it’s nearly intoxicating. “This is not ideal.” She whispered to herself, and he pushed his lips onto hers, and despite her initial internal debate, she kissed back with equal ferocity.

He still doesn’t know what possessed his body, nor does he recognise the electricity flowing through his veins when he touches her.

In the distance, heavy shoes hit the cold floor of the BAU as the pair sprung apart in fear of the new presence in their office. "What the hell are you guys doing here? It's Saturday."

Y/N downed the last of her coffee. "We could say the same for you, Gideon." She quirked a brow at her unit chief and the unknown man beside him. "We've been here since yesterday, literally."

"Since Friday evening, yesterday?"

"Yeah."

Gideon shook his head, turning to gesture to his counterpart. "Well, while we're here. This is Dr Spencer Reid, he'll be joining the team. Dr Reid, this is SSA Aaron Hotchner," Aaron nodded in acknowledgement, offering his hand to shake.

"I don't really do handshakes." Spencer said, sheepish, relieved when no one was offended.

"And this is Special Agent Y/N L/N." She merely smiled. "I just wanted to show Dr Reid around on a weekend so the office is empty." It was smart to avoid Monday morning's usual rush in the bullpen.

“It’s good to meet you, Spencer.”

"You both should go home."

"It's too early, the subway doesn't start up for another hour." She interjected.

Aaron looked at her with a softness in his eyes that would be difficult to decipher unless you were at the receiving end. "I could drive you home."

The woman couldn't get a word out before Gideon snapped his fingers. "There you go. Now get some sleep and stop wasting your weekend away."

It has been determined, every family man needs his young, alluring mistress.

She was on medical leave in 2005, Adrien Bale’s warehouse bombing had done a number on her. He payed her visits, like any good lover. "How have you been?"

Y/N got up, moving to straddle his waist, he welcomed the intimacy, his fingertips drumming along her waist. "I've been okay." They joined in a kiss, him smiling against her lips. "How are you, Unit Chief of the BAU?"

His smile did not cease as she praised him with his new title. It was nice of her, too kind, as his own wife didn't celebrate such promotions. The higher the rank, the longer his working hours. "Better."

"You want something to eat?" Her hands travelled up his arms, soon to rest on his chest as he shook his head.

"I need to tell you something."

The seriousness dripping from his words, tinged with regret, had her pushing off of him and sitting on the other end of the small sofa. "What is it?"

His eyes narrowed from pure stress. "Haley's pregnant."

"Oh." Her mouth was left agape, just a little, until she regained the will to close it. "Congratulations, I'm happy for you."

"Y/N."

"I hope it's a happy, healthy baby."

Aaron attempted to take her hand, only for it to be snatched away. "Don't react like this."

"Act like what? I'm just happy for you."

“Don’t go quiet on me.”

It’s sounded like an order, and she was never one to disobey. Y/N scoffed. “What, you want me to scream and cry like a crazy mistress? Do you think I like knowing that you're going to bed with her every night? That you spend Christmas, New Year's, every fucking holiday, all with her!" He was quiet, and she stood, chest heaving. "All I get is office quickies and sneaking around on cases, because I'm the other woman! That's what I deserve."

“You deserve better than that.”

Her hands ran through her hair, clutching at the roots. “I’m the other woman,” She repeated to herself in disbelief. “This has been the biggest mistake I’ve ever made in my life.”

She was stumbling, grabbing her bag, she left the apartment and slammed the door behind her.

Aaron remained seated for a moment, his head in his hands. Her declarations of hate were loud, and clear as day, yet he found it difficult to breathe when she wasn't in the room.

Y/N hadn’t been around since then, not even at the grocery store, until Spencer’s faithful call.

"They want both of you back in the saddle. Medical leave's over."

Her and Gideon exchange tentative looks. “You're sure?"

Aaron smiles, just a little, at the hint of excitement in her eyes. "Order came from the director."

"Well, we better get started."

They each file out of the room, all except for two. Y/N intends to stay just to read the case file a little more, while his objective is to catch her alone for only a minute. "I came to your place a few weeks ago."

Her voice is monotoned. "You shouldn't have."

He seems unaffected by her response. "You weren't there, no one knew where you were." Her head tilts upward a little, flattered by his efforts to find her.

"I’ll send out a national announcement next time I go on holiday." The man plucks the manila folder from her grasp, just about softly catching her left hand in his grip. "Aaron."

"I didn't know if you were coming back to me."

"Don't do this because you know I'll give in." He comes closer, and closer, with every half second that passes.

Her hand is flat on his chest, halting him. “I was so attached to you, Aaron. My life depended on you,” She dares not look up at him, her gaze fixates on his tie. “Our affair had made me jealous, and I don’t want to hate your marriage, and I really don’t want to hate Haley,”

Y/N peers up at him through thick, wet lashes. “so please, don’t make me.”

His actions have a mind of their own, encouraging him to lean down and just kiss her like he’s been itching to for several months, and so he does. Because Aaron Hotchner can’t always do what he wants, but when it came to her, his Y/N, she’s putty in his hands, and vice versa.

"I miss you." He murmurs after they part.

"I know, but we can't do this anymore."

He steps away, and she’s the first to leave the tiny office.

When they’re alone there’s a potential to hurt a lot of people, it’s dangerous, and so they don’t catch themselves making that mistake until they’re outside Richard Slessman’s house, towards the back.

She’s on a call. “I love you.” The affections he hears pang at his heart. “Bye, mom.” He can breathe, she tucks her phone away.

"Everything alright back home?"

Y/N shrugs. "Yeah, she just gets worried.” She looks down at her shoes, and his eyes flicker to it for a second. "I didn't ask, earlier, how's Haley? And the baby?"

"They're good. It's a boy." Her chest inflates a little, he notices, and his eyes tear away from her silky blouse.. "I'm sorry, I don't want to-"

"You're having a baby, Aaron, you're allowed to boast." The grin that envelopes her lips was one that should been photographed, but he can’t ignore the way the corners of her eyes don’t crinkle like they usually would, or how her eyebrows knit together ever so slightly. "That's amazing, though. I'm happy for you. A boy."

Her actions contradict her words, she looks away, a way of avoiding the obligation to smile any longer. "Thank you."

"By the way," She grabs her handbag from the nearby ledge of the house, pausing at the sight of it before rummaging through. He recognises it, he bought it. A small stuffed animal is outstretched to him. "I got this for him when I was away. In the future, maybe he could look at it and think of his Aunt Y/N."

He chuckles, looking down at the toy in his hands, a little plushie of a dog. "Of course. Haley and I really appreciate this." She nods, unsure of what to say.

“I have something for you, too.” His is smaller than hers, it’s in a small velvet box and it makes her breath hitch in her throat. “I wanted to give it to you a while ago, I wanted to tell you that I was finally leaving Haley, that we could be together properly in the way that you deserve.”

She opens the box, and the ring inside is nothing short of exquisite. “Fuck, Aaron.” 

"But things didn't go the way we, I, had planned."

Her head is slowly shaking in incredulity. “This is crazy.”

"A good kind of crazy?" His features are hopeful.

Her breathy laugh is pained. "This is a crazy kind of crazy, border-lining insane."

A smile plays on Aaron’s lips anyways.  "This is it, my final, grand gesture. I love you, Y/N, I always will and I would give up everything I have for you right now if you asked me to."

She takes a single step towards him. "You don't mean that, because I won't let you. I won't let you do it." She places her right hand on his cheek, the other still holds the open ring box. "You love Haley."

"But I'm in love with you."

"It'll go away eventually, and I'm telling you this because I know you. You'll hold that beautiful little boy in your arms, and you'll forget about all of it."

The older man shakes his head, but not necessarily in denial as the surface of his eyes become glassy. "I'll never forget."

"I won't either, but we have to let this go."

“The ring is yours, you deserve it.”

Y/N shuts the box, and it makes that satisfying sound, and she drops it into her purse with a smile, and the wrinkle at the corners of her eyes makes him grin like a boy. 

And although she wants nothing more than to shout her love for him from rooftops and kiss him while August heat slips away as September looms on them, she readjusts her handbag on her arm and turns the corner around Slessman’s house.

[violetmuses]

Part 2 of a request! - Part I ❤️‍🩹

@thomasrunner @nelo0wesker 🏷

Despite hiding around the world for quite a while, criminal Armando Aretas finally returned to Miami and would learn this brand-new chapter of life. 

To cut his grounded time in prison, Aretas would even continue working through the Miami Police Department and officially joined AMMO's squad.

No more running.

______

Staying with Detective Mike Lowrey until further notice, Armando pulled together and headed down for breakfast, not rushing to the precinct. 

“Morning, man.” Mike still wanted to greet Aretas without pushing boundaries. Their estranged relationship proved cordial at best  now. 

“What's up?” Armando offered slightly accented English before sitting down at the kitchen table. 

“Good morning, Armando.” Mike's wife Christine, a physical therapist, smiled. 

“Hey.” Armando nodded, still not comfortable enough to grin back. 

Christine also helped Mike heal throughout the shooting recovery that took place years ago. 

“Listen, we'll eat first and just get outta here, all right?” Mike spoke up. “Don't wanna be late.” 

“Kay. Who made the coffee, though?” Aretas glanced toward Mike and Christine for a second. 

“Me.” Mike joyfully confirmed. Even Christine laughed while Armando finished the meal. 

*****

“Don't worry about Marcus. I got you.” Mike almost whispered near Armando after driving the classic Porsche to work. 

Before Lowrey and Aretas could even walk inside, one voice called out. 

“Aw, Mike! Why didn't you tell me?” Sniffing through dramatic tears, Mike's longtime partner and best friend Marcus Burnett reached the curb. 

“Please stop crying, Marcus.” Mike shook his head while exiting that car. 

Embarrassed, Armando nearly shrunk in the passenger seat to hide and even veiled further by wearing Mike's sunglasses. 

“Armando dressed like you, too.” Marcus continued anyway. “Look at the gun holsters placed on his back, Mike.” 

“Stop.” Mike repeated himself while entering the precinct with Aretas and Burnett. 

_______

To make this return even more unsettling, Armando noticed that fellow law enforcement officials and other staff members wouldn't talk. 

The building neatly turned silent when everyone recognized Aretas. 

Even AMMO weapons expert Kelly and tech genius Dorn looked elsewhere. 

“What the hell’s wrong with everybody?” Marcus Burnett spoke up this time. 

“Marcus….” Mike Lowrey warns his best friend for the umpteenth occasion. 

“No, Mike. Listen, y'all. Stop tripping for five minutes, all right?” Marcus quickly defended Armando. “Focus on the job because Armando's not leaving anytime soon. You can't give up normal things just because he showed up either. He's part of our team like everybody else.”

Voices responded in all directions until Captain Rita Secada entered the precinct and headed toward that briefing room. Everyone else trailed.

_______

“We'll need all hands on deck regarding this new assignment.” Rita explained details while standing behind this podium. “Look for the witness described on screen.” 

Once Rita offered this large-scale viewpoint of that witness, Armando, Mike, and Marcus nearly froze. 

 You centered this case. 

*****

Shortly after that briefing concluded, everyone braced themselves for your arrival. Different officers would bring you to the police station. 

“Who does she want in there?” Armando offered the important point over your questioning. 

“Marcus and I have a much better chance of talking to her, man. I'm sorry.” Mike would never forget how you “woke up” after nearly drowning that day. 

“You're right. I'll wait.” Aretas nodded and walked toward his desk for the day. 

Mike and Marcus know exactly what happens next. Aretas could outright trigger your escape from this station. 

_______

“I know that you're scared right now, but we won't hurt you.” Mike repeated his vow from the wilderness as you sat in this horribly gray room. 

“He was looking for me.” You speak with Detective Mike Lowrey, otherwise there's no chance that you'll ground this case for yourself. 

“Who?” Mike sits up. 

“McGrath.” You reveal. 

“James McGrath is dead.” Mike answered. “We shut down his operation recently.” 

“I know. McGarth took me hostage right before Captain Howard was framed.” You exposed brand-new information. 

Mike's heart dropped and Marcus stood flabbergasted in the corner. 

“Hostage…” Mike Lowrey whispered. 

“Yes.” Your statement confirms the truth with each passing moment. 

Your fear. Running away from strangers. Not trusting anyone. On and on. 

“What do you need?” Mike asked, gently trying to ease the situation. 

“There's nothing else to do because McGarth is already dead at this point.” You shake your head, looking down. “Can I ask you something though, Detective?”

“Of course.” Mike locked eye contact with you for a reason and even stepped closer. 

“What happened to that criminal?” You bring up the question that plagued thoughts ever since you run in those woods. 

Shit! Mike silently acknowledged that you remembered Armando. 

“It's a long story…” Mike struggled to answer your question. 

“Is he still on the run?” You whispered over rumors from different places. 

“No.” Mike began. “The department will give Armando another chance, but you're not in danger. I promise.” 

“Armando?” You grounded the criminal's name this time. “Why…” 

You trailed off because Detective Lowrey spoke up again. 

“He's my son…” Mike cleared his throat and handed reality straight toward you. 

“Your son?” You can't believe how invisible cobwebs  tangled this place. 

One of the most well-known professionals in Miami fathered someone who lurked with darkness. 

“We didn't bring him for questions with you, but his name is Armando Aretas.” Mike continued speaking. 

Realization slapped you in the face! 

“Armando Aretas, the drug dealer?!” You shouted, almost leaving this chair. Even your voice resounded. 

“I knew she would react, Mike.” Marcus grumbled from the corner. 

“Shut up the fuck and help me!” Mike tried catching up with you, but failed. 

Within  seconds, you kicked that door open and found one of the back exits, immediately heading outside.  

“Shit!” Marcus finally realized the mistake of arguing. 

“I need backup! The witness has escaped our building. All units: respond to the situation immediately!” Demanding communication, Mike ran down this street. 

“She's not a fucking dog, Mike! What the hell are you doing?” Marcus shouted back and defended your reaction. 

Ignoring Marcus, Mike continued racing down while members of the AMMO squad emerged. 

“Armando, stay here!” Marcus noted Aretas over you just in time. “She escaped the building.” 

“No!” Armando refused to hide once more because anything could happen near you. Even sirens began wailing in the distance. “If she's mad, I'll deal with it.” 

On instinct, Armando races outside, leaving Marcus in the dirt. 

_______

“Nobody's safe!” You glance over your shoulder while bolting and realize that officers have caught up with you. “Get Aretas out of the damn building or I'm not talking again.”

“Armando won't hurt you.” Mike acknowledges you first. 

“Prove it, Mike!” You rasped, pissed off and worried at the same time. 

Moments later, Armando emerged and stepped toward you in broad daylight, not holding weapons. 

“Just tell us what happened.” Armando wouldn't stop looking at you. 

Even Mike and Marcus turned silent, waiting for the next plan here. 

“Stand down.” You took charge for once. “I can't explain everything in public.” 

Deal. Armando thought. 

******

Police tape riddled the scene while you joined Mike Lowrey's Porsche. 

While you became Mike's passenger instead, Armando crammed the back seat to dodge your glare. 

“My wife knows what happened.” Mike grounded this plan to settle everything in his home. 

“Thanks.” You nodded when adrenaline stopped for good. 

******

Parking at the house, Mike greeted Christine and stepped back, letting everyone enter. 

Once Mike locked doors and food set around this table, questioning resumes without Marcus Burnett. 

“What happened just before you were kidnapped?” Mike asked. 

“It was my birthday that night.” You remembered. “Right as I'm leaving the club, McGarth cornered me.” 

“South Beach.” Mike shook his head, already painting thoughts and images. 

“Scars?” Armando refuses to eat anything until you finish the story. 

“No physical assault. McGrath didn't hurt me, but his goons patrolled.” You don't express more. 

“How long were you there?” Armando nearly whispered. 

“I don't even know.” You almost struggled. “No lights in the room.” 

“How did you escape?” Aretas pulled this big-time question to score that previous tragedy in the water. 

“Tricked someone to help me with restraints.” You answered. “By the time McGarth hijacked your federal transport, I tried swimming away.” 

Flashbacks pulled right away and Armando's heart shattered. 

Aretas realized that McGarth controlled your every move until this point and reaching that unknown water should've marked freedom. 

You would rather die just to escape hell.

[betterbooktitles]

I had placed a stack of albums on the counter of a tiny strip mall record shop when my smartest writer friend called me out of the blue to tell me I should “always have a mistress.”

Relax. She meant a metaphorical mistress. That is, a writing project on the side. You have your main squeeze (a novel or a script) but then you flirt with the idea of writing a YA Romance or a Thriller or (god forbid) poetry. You need something to write that feels like a break from your “Big Project.”

I was staring at the cover of Tears for Fears’ Songs From The Big Chair, imagining the person I would be once I heard “Head Over Heels” on vinyl when my phone rang. I only had the ringer on because I was waiting for a potential call from a casting director. A certain late-night show sent out a casting notice for “shirtless man” and I, without any shame, turned on the lights in my wife’s office and had her take a few shots with my phone. I had the ringer on in case a stranger got my (half) nudes in an email, and said “That’s it! Get me that torso!” I’m sorry to say, enough time has passed without a call that you will not be seeing my chest on TV any time soon. Usually, my phone remains on silent when I’m out in the world. It also remains on silent when I’m at home because I’m staring at it all day anyway. Who needs to bring noise into that equation? If you call, I’ll see it.

Between the tone of her voice and the occasional swoosh of a car going by, I could tell my friend was driving and had me on speakerphone. She was on her way to lunch with someone on the business/agency side of Entertainment, heading to a mix of pleasurable banter over food with a friend but also a business-minded networking session with someone she hadn’t seen in 6 months. This call, pleasurable to me but in retrospect a bit of business since we talked instantly and almost entirely about work for 20 minutes, was eerily fortuitous. It was like she knew I was writing this week about work and relationships.

“You have the mistress project because it makes you feel young,” she said, telling me about her decision to write 50 pages of a Romance novel. “The problem is that you think ‘Maybe I should leave my wife for this younger project.’” She had submitted the first chunk of her frivolous manuscript to an agent, and, to her horror, the agent loved it. Now she has to live with it for a while. She has to explain to her previous project that they are either in a polyamorous marriage now or about to enter a trial separation. Plus, she had to see if the mistress project was wife material or if she’d fall into the same patterns as her previous relationship. OK. We get the metaphor.

“I’m afraid my new mistress is buying dollar records,” I said, watching the traffic go by, sipping from a lid-off paper cup full of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee that, between the time I’d spent looking at records and chatting in the parking lot, had turned cold. I felt the urge to rush back into the store and apologize to Timmy the manager for stepping out. I worried he’d already re-shelved my copy of The Go-Go’s Beauty And The Beat or that someone had seen the Tears For Fears on the top of “my” unpurchased heap and bought it for himself. This shopping trip was supposed to be an Artist Date (I guess the metaphor is still going), a weekly outing you do solo to engage with your Muse before journalling about it because a book called The Artist’s Way says it’s the only way to remain creative. You woo the Muse by engaging with art alone. Typically, I’d go to a museum or a movie by myself for my Artist Date but I’d had a record player for over 2 months and had only amassed a measly hundred-plus albums in my house so far. My next Artist Date will be a trip to IKEA to buy a shelf to hold more.

“No, Dan.” My brilliant friend said, “Replacing your main project with records or books is like saying you’re not going to have a mistress and instead get into sex dolls. You need a creative project.”

Read the rest of the essay here.

[emmililyan]

The Spotlight

It was like the song of engines and noisy spectators muted the off-track personalities of the athletes, like Lando Norris who sort of on had to find a ideal ratio so it all works out. His love affair with Angelina transpired in a relatively quiet fashion, without the glaring eye of the cameras or the adoring public. In those vulnerable moments they shared smiles, warmth, and the presence of spunky little Theo, Angie’s son, who made his mark on Lando’s life in ways he could not have foreseen.

The pair eventually went public as their relationship blossomed. Lando was feeling both exhilarated and terrified. He was well aware that the limelight could be brutal, and the media's endless search for stories was a recipe for havoc. However, he also realized that he loved Angelina and they had future that he wanted to be open about, if not for himself, then for Theo.

On a sun soaked race weekend in Monaco, the infamous couple rolled up to the track, everyone abuzz with excitement. Lando was not only excited about the race but also seeing Theo's eyes sparkle as he saw all of the cars and the people. He took pride in showcasing his girlfriend, and now their son, into his world. But when they walked through the paddock, the vibe changed.

Paparazzi circled like vultures, flashes exploded from all angles. Lando squeezed Theo's tiny hand, moving in front of Angelina and their son protectively, even though Lando could've been considered one of the oldest there. The din intensified, and Lando had no choice but to put his instincts to work. Long enough to know the fine line between fame and privacy, he was unwilling to subject Theo to such an invasive frenzy.

“Just stay close, okay?” Looking down at Theo, who was both enraptured and terrified by the scene unfolding, Lando said: Angelina smiled at him, firmly, but Lando saw the tension in her eyes.

They were making their way through the throng when a sudden crush of lensmen closed in, hoping to catch the racing star with his family. As clowns and clam sandwich crazed adults streamed past, Theo stumbled, his tiny foot just tripping a barricade. Lando felt his heart drop as the kid wen down, knee raw and bloodied from the hard unforgiving pavement.

“No!” Get down — Lando shouted, charging toward Theo as he howled in agony. He quickly captured the boy in his arms, his blood boiling against the photographers that had caused this. “Don’t worry, bud, I’ve got you,” came his low voice, soothing, even though he was churning inside.

With a heart of a mother Angelina rushed to their side. She peered at the abrasion on Theo's knee, his tears breaking her heart. Just a small scratch, darling, she muttered, wiping his cheeks with soft fingers. “You’re so brave.”

But Lando was well and truly overcome with protectiveness. "We need to get him to a medic," he said, pacing firmly with Theo wrapped in his arms. Angelina laughed a little. Lando is a first-time dad and it is the quietest thing in the world. Indeed, the boy's whimpers echoed in his ears; Lando's heart felt heavy with the need to keep him safe. And in that moment, all the adrenaline of the race weekend melted away, and he was faced with the urgent call of needing to protect those he loved.

"Let's go, finally Angelina agreed, taking the lead through the throng and her eyes scanning for the nearest medical tent. Lando is close behind, his body shielding Theo from the onlookers. He was so riveted on the boy in his arms that a new layer of responsibility washed over him; he was not just Lando-the driver, but he was becoming a full-time father.

Finally in the medical tent, Lando carefully laid Theo down onto a cot, kneeling beside him. The medic came over, a friendly smile on her face as she began to clean the scrape. "You're going to be just fine, young man," she said calmly. Lando held tightly onto Theo's hand, rather wishing he could take the pain away himself.

In a matter of moments, Theo stopped crying and looked up to Lando with big, trusting eyes. "You okay?" Lando asked, his heart still racing. Theo nodded, the courage shining through the tears.

Lando, can you get me back to the race?" Theo said, his voice small, resolute. Lando's chest swelled with pride at the bravery of the boy. It was then that he realized being in the limelight meant battling not only with the chaos of fame but also protection and nourishment of relationships that mattered most.

"Of course," Lando said, running a hand over Theo's hair. "Let's get you back out there. And if anyone gets too close, I'll make sure they don't bother you." He shot a glance toward the exit; the urge to defend was spurred fresh.

Angelina smiled, a wave of relief washing over her face as she wrapped her arm around Lando. "Thank you for just being amazing," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Lando shrugged-as if to brush it off-but inside, he knew this was only the beginning of their new life.

Only as they went their separate ways toward the paddock did Lando realize he would never be out of the limelight, but he knew that from now on it was all right because his loved ones were secure in it. With every race, with every victory and setback they would face, he would be there-overprotective, unyielding-prepared to fight over what truly meant something to him: his family.

[we-are-siege-engineer]

Titan: Don't Fuck With the Ocean

So this has been delayed, and everyone and their mother has already commented on this. We’re well past the virality mark on this topic. But whatever, I want to crack in and get this thing wrapped up anyways. For context, I study mechanical and manufacturing engineering. I’ve grown up around submarines with my dad being an engineer on US Navy subs, and I was able to ask him about this. I’ve also got a diving cert and enough experience living coastal to at least get me a knowledgeable respect for the ocean. Being 60 ft under should instill that, at least. 

I will not make any comments on any of the other four victims. However, I reserve the right to be fully derogatory to the CEO who died in the submersible, Stockton Rush, for his disgusting flippancy towards safety in such a dangerous environment as 4,000m below sea level, for disregarding multiple warnings against the project, and for subjecting other passengers to this. I intended to start with my favorite source on this, but it looks like I’m beginning with spite. I claim that in engineering, if safety disregards don’t immediately boil your blood, you have to turn in your card. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-65998914 “Titan sub CEO dismissed safety warnings as 'baseless cries', emails show” Some people may have seen the quote “At some point, safety just is pure waste,” Stockton told journalist David Pogue in an interview last year. “I mean, if you just want to be safe, don’t get out of bed. Don’t get in your car. Don’t do anything.” Stockton Rush has typed "We have heard the baseless cries of 'you are going to kill someone' way too often," he wrote. "I take this as a serious personal insult." *Frankly*, the response to this should very much not be personal insult, but a call to action. There is no reason to take this personally. “I have broken some rules to make this…The carbon fiber and titanium, there is a rule that you don’t do that. Well, I did.” 

“At some point safety just is pure waste…I think I can do this just as safely by breaking the rules.”

“[The sub industry is] obscenely safe, because they have all these regulations…But it also hasn’t innovated or grown—because they have all these regulations.”

This is gruesomely hilarious when you remember the CEO isn’t the actual person running the stress tests, manufacturing it, checking materials charts and costs, calculating max tolerances, or anything else. He’s the little funny man with the money and the reputation who tells people do what he wants anyways. He has no right to play maverick when he is hardly doing any of the work, and especially when it involves other innocent people. While he has a bachelor’s in aerospace engineering, a very commendable thing to get, that’s not what he does hands on as the CEO, and aerospace does not directly translate to submersible understanding. You do not get to be flippant with other peoples’ lives. These comments would be bad enough for anything on the surface, or even in the sky. But again, the ocean is a completely different beast, where it is much more difficult for emergency services to reach people.

As well as this, I need to state the difference between submersible and submarine. If I don’t, I feel the entire US Navy breathe down my neck. It’s like boat vs ship. Submersible: needs to be supported by a vessel up top, not designed for long term deployments. Smol boy. Submarine: can be operated independently, can go on six month or so deployments. Big boy. Going forward, the primary difficulties of the ocean are first and foremost the atmospheres of pressure on the vehicle. The dangers of no breathing air in the ocean are of course, a major issue, but the pressure of the ocean will be what breaks this and makes that lack of air a huge issue. A submersible needs to be properly pressurized to withstand the changes and keep the passengers inside also safe. The ocean is also very difficult to reach communication through. https://www.hindawi.com/journals/wcmc/2019/6470359/, so the submersible losing connection isn’t entirely unsurprising. But other factors listed here lead to its delay.

[stilespeters]

SALVATION (series)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

pairing: colin zabel x reader

words: 3863

a/n: Im so excited for the next couple of chapters because reader's whole world is gonna turn upside down (again) plus, Kai is a piece of shit in this universe (multiverse?) he will show his wrath when he finally gets to shine and do what he does best🤭

summary: the killer is revealed, but Colin found something in room 64 in the Cortez that might twist the whole case. What happened in room 64? What did Colin see?

warnings: swearing, murder, switch from present to past

part 6: room 64

Thursday, two days ago 01:19 am

Location: Marie and Bernard Allen’s residence

“What did you see, Adelaide?” Colin asked carefully and the little girl in front of him looked up at the sky for a few seconds before answering. “I heard the ice cream song. I looked outside and saw a big car with ice cream on it. A clown was driving it. I love clowns.” She explained before rubbing her eyes. “Were you the ice cream man?”

Colin flipped to the new page of his notebook.

“Can you maybe describe him for me?”

She looked up and placed her index finger on her chin. In the meantime, he grabbed a recording device and started recording. “He wore a black jacket, and his head was gray. He had multiple heads. One face was happy and another face was sad. I don’t remember what the other two faces were. Oh, and all the faces had really long noses!” She giggled and Colin wrote everything she said on his notes. “He also wore a funny black hat.”

“Anything else you noticed?”

“Nope.” she placed emphasis on the p. She then yawned “Grandma, to be honest I am kind of tired, can I get ice cream tomorrow? Please?”

“I know sweetheart. And yes of course, we’re gonna get ice cream tomorrow.” The woman looked at Colin before he nodded at her, giving her a signal that he was done here. “If your granddaughter in any way remembers something else, something she left out just now, can you call me? It could be the smallest detail, if you hear anything, please contact me.” He handed the woman a card and she nodded.

Colin then walked back to the house.

“Janssen,” Colin walked up to the perimeter. “I got a witness mentioning something about a clown, she described it for me, maybe we can make a sketch and see if people recognize it. Someone had to have bought it somewhere.”

“Alright, send the description over and we’ll look at it. I can see if we can get a composite sketch,” Janssen patted Colin on his back “Great work detective. There isn't anything you can do at the moment, so why don't you go home and rest.”

“Alright, I’ll go through the files tomorrow. I can see if there are any more witnesses and I can thoroughly see if there are any correlations with the previous case.” Colin remembered the two invitations to the Hotel Cortez that were in the living rooms of the previous victims. Maybe Marie and Bernard also had an invitation somewhere. Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, three times is a partern.

“I’ll call you when I have the results of the CLA, we’ll find a match of the DNA found and then we can look further into it. Send me the description of the clown’s mask and I’ll call someone to make a sketch.” Janssen walked back to the crime scene and Colin grabbed his notebook again.

Black jacket

gray head

multiple heads

different expressions -happy, sad etc

long noses

black hat

Colin sighed as he read it aloud. Where the hell could he find something like this?

--

Saturday, present time, 10:12 pm

location: the Hotel Cortez

After you showed Colin the list, you and he made eye contact for a brief moment. It didn't take long for you to know you were on the same page. You had to rush to Alma Irwin. You had to make sure she was alright, but you feared the worst.

Colin took your hand and together you ran through the halls of the Cortez once again. Your heart was beating erratically and there was sweat evident on your forehead. Your feet hurt like hell from the stilettos you were wearing, and after meters running, you stopped Colin. He shot you a look of question before you gestured to him to wait a minute.

After you crouched down to take off your heels, you adjusted the hair in your face, and you grabbed Colin’s hand again.

You decided to take the stairs, and when you reached the ground floor, you saw James March stopped talking to a man. He glanced at you and Colin who ran to the lobby, and you took one last look behind you before you ran outside. You could see in your last glance that James pressed his lips together in a thin line. He didn't look happy, sad or angry. He just looked. You were afraid for a second that he knew you had the guest list in your bag.

As the cold breeze hit your skin outside, you and Colin ran through the dark streets away from the Cortez, and a few people who were on an evening stroll raised an eyebrow at your dress and Colin's suit. However, you didn't care. You had to be as fast as possible. You were basically flying towards Colin's car.

“I know where Alma lives.” You said as you got into the passenger's seat, and Colin started the ignition. “She and her boyfriend own the Woodall Gasoline, a tankstation and auto repair shop. It’s near the edge of Brookfield Heights. I crashed my car into a traffic sign while trying to parallel park like a week ago. I went there just to get it fixed, my car is still there.”

“Alright, lead the way Miss Goode.” You typed the address of Alma and her boyfriend Kit's residence on the navigation and you tapped your foot onto the floor of the car. You were stressed as hell, since you knew Alma. Deep down you hoped that the list had it wrong, but after checking again for the 100th time, everything stayed the same. Alma was the only one who didn't show up and has an I as first letter of her last name. You tried to convince yourself that she may have canceled because she had the flu or something, but deep down a nasty feeling crept upon you.

Colin rested his hand on your knee to stop it from trembling, and you made short eye contact with him before he focused back on to the road. You got shivers as his hand rested on your thigh, and you started breathing steady again. After a short while, he retrieved his hand back to the steering wheel.

“The cops are on their way to the Cortez.” Colin spoke and his hands gripped the wheel tightly. His knuckles turned white. You frowned. “What? Why? What happened?”

“I went to room 64.”

“What did you see?”

Colin didn't answer, instead he clenched his jaws and seemed to be thinking long and hard. “Colin, what did you see in room 64?”

Colin didn't answer again, instead, he gulped and his adam’s apple wobbled. “I don’t know exactly, I’m still trying to process what I saw.” You could see he was visibly tense. His eyes darted nervously around, and you knew that you should leave it to him for now. He would tell you once he felt comfortable. It obviously bothered him. Seeing the reaction of Colin’s face by only asking what he saw, made you believe that it must have been something really serious. Whatever he saw in room 64 was enough to call the cops.

It felt weird knowing that the police would arrive at the Cortez soon. It was the opening week full of elites in the Hotel. Police infiltrating the place definitely did not look good.

What could he have seen in room 64?

After thirty minutes of driving, you neared the edge of Brookfield Heights. Alma’s home was in sight, and as Colin parked in front of Alma’s car in the driveway, you saw that there were no lights on in the home. It was nearing 11 pm, and it was already pitch black outside.

“Stay behind me.” Colin said as he approached the house. He’d rather have you stay back in the car, but he wanted to keep an eye out on you. Yes he knew that you could handle yourself easily, but he was carrying a weapon at the moment. He could protect you with it, and he’d be damned if he let you stay in the car if something serious really was happening.

Colin reached for his side, and when you saw the lantern illuminate it the slightest, you quickly realized it was a gun. You gulped at the sight. It wasn't like you’ve never seen a gun before, but seeing it again after so many years made you nervous as hell.

You didn't know if you were supposed to feel safer because of it, or more scared.

When you reached the front door, you saw that the door was ajar, and you stayed behind Colin as he pushed it open carefully. Your legs were kind of wobbly but you remained steady. “Alma?” he questioned. No answer.

“Ms Irwin?” still no answer. You two stood there for about five minutes before Colin walked into the house.

Everything was dark, and as you walked further, you saw a light coming from the kitchen and you heard soft music. Colin approached it slowly with his gun in his hands. Once you and Colin rounded the corner, you saw nothing out of the ordinary.

TRING

You almost got a heart attack as Colin’s phone buzzed. Someone was calling him. Colin quickly declined the call. Luckily nothing was happening, and everything looked normal.

That’s until you looked down and were met with the horrendous sight of a man crouching over something. The thing that stood out was that a puddle of crimson liquid surrounded the thing lying beneath the man, and your eyes widened.

Colin immediately held out his arm in a protective manner to shield you from the man, and he raised his gun. “Hands in the air, turn around slowly.”

The man slowly stood up with his back turned against you, and when he slowly turned around, his hands were covered with blood and his face was contorted in pure fear. You recognized him as the boyfriend of Alma, the one who was gonna fix your car. “It's not what it looks like. I saw her like this. I swear." He had a Boston accent and his words were slurred out.

When he didn't block the thing he was crouching down to, you saw what it actually was. It was a body. Not just some body, it was the body of Alma Irwin. You had spoken to her last week with her and you got a nasty taste in your mouth. You immediately covered your mouth with your hand and your eyes went wide.

“Hands where I can see them,” Colin stated clearly and the man on the ground began sobbing. “Please, it isn’t what it looks like.”

Colin still aimed the gun at him, and he grabbed his phone to call for backup. However, when he looked at his screen, he saw he got a text message from Janssen.

Got a call from the CLA, forensics examiner Anya Lewis. Call me ASAP, it’s urgent. We found a DNA match from the Bernard’s house

Colin immediately called Janssen back and still watched the man closely.

“Colin, we found traces of fingerprints at Marie and Bernard’s place, it matches the fingerprints of Kit Walker, the boyfriend of Alma Irwin. The cops are on their way, where are you?”

“I’m already here.”

Colin eyed you for a second before he looked at Kit Walker who looked like a scared puppy. He then lowered his phone.

“I didn't do it.” Kit let out in a silent sob.

Your eyes were still on the corpse of Alma.

You didn't know her that well, but you had small talk with her last week. It felt weird knowing that she was gone, murdered by the person standing in front of you.

It felt like you were standing there for eternity.

All you remembered was the room lighting up in blue and red lights through the windows, and the vague sounds of police cars. It felt like you were underwater. Like you couldn't breathe. The next thing you knew was three officers walking into the room and taking Kit with them. Kit looked back at his wife on the ground, and it looked like his heart shattered to pieces. He then glanced back at you and Colib, before he disappeared behind the corner.

"Are you alright?" Colin asked, his voice laced with concern. He held your arms steady so you wouldn't fall.

"Yeah, I'm- I'm fine." you looked him in the eyes and you gulped.

He held you closer in his arms and he then noticed you were trembling. He took off his black coat and hung it over your bare shoulders. It was too big, but it was comfortable and warm. You sank into the warm feeling of the jackwt. Colin was now only left with his white blouse, and it hugged his upper body perfectly. However, your eyes were still set on Alma, and you couldn't help but feel guilty. The goal was to prevent this from happening, but you were too late. Too late to save Alma.

"Y/n," You turned to look at Colin and he saw your eyes were glossy. "Let me take you home, it's been a long night."

You nodded, and he supported you by placing an arm around your waist and walking you outside. You still wore your dress and heels, and you saw multiple police officers look up at the two of you. It was kind of odd that two people dressed in attire were leaving the murder scene.

--

You opened your front door and stepped inside. As soon as the cold air left your skin, you could finally let out a sigh of relief. What a night this had been. You had attended an elite opening of the Hotel previously owned by your parents, you had stolen the guest list from the woman you helped become who she really is, you had been the first to step foot on the crime scene together with Colin, and you saw the person that was going to fix your car crouched over his girlfriend’s dead corpse.

Saying you were tired was an understatement.

You dropped your bag on the kitchen counter, and you looked outside the window to see Colin drive away. After he brought you home, he was called back to the crime scene, and he promised to call you tomorrow morning. He said that for now you needed to rest.

The weirdest feeling was knowing that you two had catched the killer. Something just felt weird about everything. It felt too easy. This person was too smart to just leave DNA at the previous crime scene, since there was no DNA found at the other crime scenes, and it felt really convenient that you two had gotten to the crime scene at the perfect time.

However, you didn't question it any further. It had to have been Kit. You didn't know the motive, but you knew that one person could be driven to madness fairly easily.

You walked upstairs with your heels in your hands, and your body ached for a warm bath. When you reached the first floor, you saw both Zoe’s door and Violet’s door were closed. You decided to enter Zoe’s door first, and when you opened the door a little, you saw that all the lights were out and that she lay in her bed. You heard her soft snores, and you closed the door again. You then moved to the other side of the hall.

When you walked to Violet’s door and opened it, you saw that her lights were on. She was seated next to her window with her cigarette in hand. For some reason however, you weren't mad. Usually, you'd scold her for lying to you, but at the moment you were too tired to start an argument.

Violet looked startled when she heard the door open and saw you standing in the doorway, and she tried to hide the cigarette. “It’s not what it looks like.”

It’s not what it looks like

The words that rolled out of her mouth were the same words of Kit, and it replayed in your head as you visioned him towering over Alma’s body. The way crimson as red as the color of your dress painted his face. It was a horrendous sight. When you closed your eyes, that was your only vision.

You stood there for a split second before walking into the room. Violet was scared of you, but as you stood in front of her, you held out your hand.

“Hand me the cigarette.”

She slowly reached her hand up to give you her cigarette, and she expected you to throw it out of the window again. However, once you had the cigarette in your fingers, you placed it between your lips. You inhaled and closed your eyes.

Violet was absolutely baffled to see you smoking in front of her. She had so many questions.

Even though so many questions had been answered tonight, it didn't feel satisfying at all. You knew that the killer finally got caught, the police were at the crime scene AND at the Hotel Cortez, but you couldn't help but feel like something wasn’t right.

You just couldn't help but wonder what Colin saw when he was searching for physical evidence while you were in room 53 with Liz. It must have been something big and serious, since he called the police.

So what the hell happened in room 64?

--

Saturday 09:46 pm

location: the Hotel Cortez

“You’re a good person, Detective.” you gave him a smile and he looked at the ground. Hearing those words come out of your mouth was different than when other people say it. Everything that came out of your mouth just seemed majestic.

“Now let’s get this list and figure out who the next target is, before we’re too late. I’ll go to room 53”

“Alright, in the meantime I’ll look around to see if there is anything suspicious in the hotel. There has to be some sort of physical evidence.”

“Okay, I’ll call you when I get the list.”

Even though he only knew you for a few days. He felt drawn to you, you had this aura that attracted him. He was intoxicated by your presence and he somehow felt like he knew you for years.

That's the reason why he wanted you to be safe. He trusted you, yes. It were others that he didn't trust.

Before you could walk away, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back. His touch was like velvet silk and you looked at your intertwined hands.

“Please, Y/n. I know you can handle yourself but I… I…” he didn't finish his sentence. “Just be careful, not everyone is as nice as they seem.”

“I know, I’ll be careful.” you gave him a smile, a smile he adores. “You too, stay safe.”

Colin nodded “I will. See you soon.”

As he saw you leave for the elevator, Colin thought about where he could look first. He scanned the room with his eyes and he saw James March already returned from whatever Iris asked him. He didn't like James one bit. Colin was usually the person to give people the benefit of the doubt, but after James slipped out information that hadn't been released to the public yet, he felt weird about him. Especially when James flirted with you in front of him. Okay, you and him didn't date, but James didn't know that. And still he had the nerve to kiss your hand in front of Colin. The problem was that Colin didn't know if it was just James' charm or because he was taunting him.

James looked angry about something as he was talking to a woman with platinum blonde hair. He seemed to be in some kind of argument with her, and as Colin narrowed his eyes, James suddenly looked his way. Colin immediately turned to look at something else and cursed under his breath.

His head snapped the wrong way, however, since he was now looking at a lone woman who stood next to the bar. She eyed him, and when she saw he made eye contact, she made her way over to him. Colin cursed again as he quickly glanced away again.

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and a presence next to him.

“Hello, Mr. My-date-ditched-me.” She tried to joke but Colin didn't know if she was serious or not. “In need of a companion?”

Colin didn't give her attention and instead looked at the vacant spot where James just stood. It was almost as if he could teleport.

“No, sorry.” he mumbled and she clicked her tongue. “That’s a shame, a handsome man like you shouldn't be alone on a gorgeous evening like this in a beautiful place.” Colin didn't know what to say to that. “I don't have any money.” Colin referred to the other men who were loaded.

She laughed at that like it was the funniest joke in the world and she ran her fingers on his chest. Colin felt uncomfortable. Sure, she was pretty, but she wasn't you. And the way she acted made him feel kind of weirded out.

“Excuse me.” he said as he tried to pry her off of him and he heard her scoff. However, that was the least of his worries, since he now had to search for James March.

After Colin lost sight of James he just decided to look for anything suspicious. Anything that was out of the ordinary. Colin was walking through the endless halls of the Cortez as he tried to find something. He didn't know anything of how the Cortez was structured, and so he cursed under his breath that you and him split up. If you were there with him, you could've shown the way. It felt like he was lost in the halls, as if the walls were eating him up.

A nasty feeling crept up on him when he thought about you in room 53. Should he have left you there alone? Again, he knew you could handle yourself, but he just wanted you safe.

That’s when he suddenly heard the deep voice of James, and Colin stopped in his tracks and stepped back to stand behind the corner to be out of sight. When Colin peeked, he saw James enter a room. It was room number 64.

Colin stayed put behind the corner of the hall. He heard nothing, and when he stood there for several minutes, he sighed. He was aout to walk back, but he stopped again in his track as he heard the door open. He peeked again and saw James marching outside of the room with his phone against his ear. He seemed angry and annoyed again, and he walked through the halls as his voice raised.

When his back was facing Colin, Colin tiptoed to room 64 and just when the door was about to close, he slipped inside.

Compared to the hallways, it was really cold inside of room 64. It was clear that it was the room of James March, since there was a photograph on the small table against the wall, that showed James standing next to the Cortez while it was still being built. Colin saw more photographs of James on the wall. There were only pictures of him in suit. When Colin looked around once more, the right side of the room looked a bit like an office. There was a laptop and papers on the desk and a bookshelf on his left.

Colin didn't see anything out of the ordinary, and he was afraid that James could be back any minute. He unfortunately didn't have any success, so he hoped that you had more luck.

He leaned against the desk and tapped his foot, and when he stood up, he knocked the cup that stood tall on the desk behind him. He cursed as his reflex tried to correct it, but he was too late. The cup fell down with the head towards the laptop. How was Colin gonna explain that coffee spilled on James' laptop?

However, when he widened his eyes, his scared expression turned intl a frown. No liquid came out of the cup. Instead, the bookshelf on the left side opened.

“What the-” he muttered and he slowly moved to face the bookshelf. All he saw was black, until his head looked down. He saw a set of stairs and a light. With adrenaline running through his veins and his heart beating erratic, he slowly walked down the stairs.

How was this even possible? Why would there be some sort of basement in a hotel room?

Colin was faced with another big book shelf as he stood in the room, and as he made his way around it, he saw a brown couch in the center. There were some cabinets against the wall. On the right was a table with two chairs, and a well lit lamp, and in front of the couch was a tv. It looked kind of like a mancave.

Except, there was one thing that Colin immediately noticed when he walked down the stairs into this weird room. It was an object that caught his eye that lay on the small table in front of the tv.

He walked towards it and crouched down till his face was at level with the object. In the bright light of the lamp above him, he could clearly see what it was. However, his mind couldn't seem to comprehend it. It couldn't be real...

It was a mask, but not just some mask. It was A gray clown mask with four different face expressions and a long nose with a black hat.

Thursday, Colin had given the descriptions of the mask to Janssen, and he said to get an Composition sketch of the clown's mask, but he hadn't gotten word from Janssen. But staring at the clown's hat right now, made him 100% sure that this was the one the little girl was talking about. Colin stood there for a short while to take it all in, and he gripped the mask tightly. It was as if he was afraid that it would slip out of his fingers. It was as if he was afraid his mind was playing tricks on him. But no, this was solid matter in his hands.

He fisted his phone out of his pocket, and he then dialed the authorities. This was enough evidence to link James and the Cortez to the murders.

“My name is Detective Colin Zabel, I need immediate backup. I’m at the Hotel Cortez.”

Colin gulped and he started to feel really warm all of the sudden as he kept staring at the faces of the mask. The expression that looked at him was the sad face. His mouth was shaped in an U shape but downwards, and it looked menacing in this light. Was this the mask of James March? Was James the person in the ice cream truck?Colin scanned the mask, each of it's faces until his hands reached into the hat. He pulled out a strand of hair.

A strand of long, blue hair.

Colin carefully picked it up and looked around for some sort of bag. This was evidence that should be restored. He rushed to the cabinets that stood against the wall, and as he opened them one by one, he saw a box with ziplock bags.

Luck was on his side today.

He carefully laid the blue hair in the small bag, and placed the rest of the box back. He then placed the small bag in his pocket and scanned the room one more time. His eyes settled once again on the gray mask, and Colin felt weirded out. It looked so... disturbing. Could it he true that the person who wore this, killed Marie and Bernard, plus all the others? Why would someone get off on that?

Colin felt like the walls were shrinking. He didn't want to be here in this room any longer. He rushed upstairs and walked to the door of the hotel room. He'd wait for the authorities to arrive. That's when his phone buzzed. He shrieked at the sound. It wasn't that loud, but due to the previous silence, it was as if it was a bullet next to his ear. He looked at the screen and your caller ID was visible. He immediately pressed his phone against his ear and walked outside of room 64. He then heard you suddenly yell his name through the phone.

"Colin!"

Colin immediately stopped in his tracks. “Y/n? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He started walkinf through the halls with his phone to his ear.

“No, everything is fine, I just- I know who the next target is.”

“You saw the list?”

“Yeah, I’m on the second floor,”

“So am I.” Just as he said that, your figure appeared from behind the bordeaux walls, and you both stood in front of each other, about 5 meters away as you both lowered your phones.

Colin saw that you had the list in your hands and you then both ran towards each other to meet each other in the middle. He stopped in front of you and saw you were catching your breath. Your hands were placed on your knees and you breathed heavily “I know who the next victim will be.”

Colin's eyes widened “Who?”

“Alma,” you said “Alma Irwin.”

Colin’s heart beated erratically and he had his hand over the small bag in his pocket. In that bag was the blue strand of hair he found in the mask. He didn't know what he was gonna do, all he knew was that Alma was in danger. And so he grabbed your hand and together you ran away. He was going to get to the bottom of this.

Saturday, present time, 11:32 pm

location: Colin's car

After he had dropped you off at your house, Colin watched as you closed the door nehind you. He wanted to make sure you were safe inside before he'd drive off.

As he saw you stand in the kitchen, he grabbed the bag with the blue hair from his pocket. He couldn't help but wonder to whom it belonged to.

Whose hair was in the mask? Why was it blue? James and Kit certainly didn't have blue, long hair, so who could it possibly be? Colin didn't know what it meant. All he knew was that it couldn't be good.

Something just didn't make any sense about Kit being the killer. But then why was his DNA found at the previous crime scene? Was he being framed? It was plausible, but why would someone do that?

There were just so many questions with so little answers. Colin knew that they had enough evidence to claim Kit as their killer, but something deep down said that that wasn't right.

Colin tried to push those thoughts away but they kept resurfing. It was plaguing his mind and he rested his head against his steering wheel.

He knew that there was only one way to find out to whom the blue hair belonged to. He grabbed his phone, dialed a number that he hadn't called in ages, and he waited for a response. It was a woman he met the first day of his training as officer. A woman who worked as a Crime Laboratory Analyst. When he finally got her on the line, he cleared his throat.

"Hey, uhh it's Colin. I know it's been a while, but I need to ask you a favor."

"Holy shit, Colin fucking Zabel, It's been a long long time since I heard your voice," Colin heard her chuckle. "What kind of favor?"

"I need you to run something in the database." Colin stared at the blue hair in his hands, and the woman on the other side of the line clicked her tongue. "You know what, why not. It'll be just like the old days."

[brazyspirit]

 blasting  stay frosty royal milk tea  by  fall out boy  down  main  street  we’ve  spotted  KODA JACKSON   sporting  their  leather  trench  coat .  the  twenty nine  year  old  VAMPIRE  who’s  been  in  town  for  ONE YEAR  often  can  be  seen  walking  the  streets  late  at  night , nursing  a  whiskey , spinning  his  favorite  record  or  working  as  a  BARTENDER  at  THE OLD HAUNT.  people  say  they  display  LOYAL  and  IMPULSIVE  traits,  but  we  rather  trust  their  vibes: hot  cups  of  coffee , discarded  cigarettes  on  the  floor , an  air  of  mystery  surrounding  him . also,  we’ve  heard  they  love  GAMBLING !   aren’t  they  fascinating ?   

FULL NAME ⸻  KODA JACKSON. AGE ⸻ TWENTY NINE (AT TIME OF BEING BITTEN - CURRENTLY 30). GENDER ⸻ CIS MALE. SEXUAL ORIENTATION ⸻ GAY. PRONOUNS ⸻ HE/HIM. OCCUPATION ⸻ BARTENDER. FACECLAIM ⸻ KIT YOUNG. INFLUENCES ⸻ SPIKE (BUFFY), DAMON SALVATORE (THE VAMPIRE DIARIES), RAPHAEL SANTIAGO (SHADOWHUNTERS)

BIOGRAPHY ⸻ tw: assault – twenty years in the bustling city of london was how koda’s path started. a devoted stay-at-home mother and a hard-working farmer of a dad adored their boy despite his antics. as he made his way through the schooling system, it was evident that koda would most likely follow in his parents footsteps. it was the beginnings of a troublemaker; after-school detentions, letters home, an undiagnosed boy who needed more support than what was offered. he tried his best to be good, in order not to disappoint the person he cherished more than anything; his mother.  during his teenage years, koda’s mother fell ill. It was his duty to care for her while his father remained working on the farm, providing a roof over their heads and a stable environment for his mother to recover in. despite his best efforts, recovery was not god’s plan for mrs. jackson, and she succumbed to her illness just a few short weeks later. the once lively boy fell into the deep end of despair and struggle. no longer attending school and spending long nights out of the house, the frustrations of his father only grew. he couldn’t control his son, he knew the boy was hurting, if the whiskey bottles stashed in his bedroom or empty cigarette cartons thrown on the floor gave anything away. koda found his way into local gambling dens, betting his most valuable personal items in exchange for an hour of rush, never returning home with less than what he started with. he was good. he could read a poker face like it was written on their forehead, always knowing when it was time to bow out. that was until he hit his first real jackpot. freshly eighteen, koda found himself going home with thousands in his pocket instead of merely hundreds. he had a skip in his step, overjoyed that he could finally action the plan he had been dreaming of since that fateful day at fifteen. he returned home for what would be the last time - a note scrawled on an old piece of paper with a goodbye and the money on the kitchen table, enough in his pocket to buy his one way ticket to america. leaving the city of london behind, koda tried to get a fresh start in the world of new york. it was only a few months before his depression got the best of him. he missed his mother, his father… but he knew the man would be better off without his behaviour hindering him.  the night it happened started much like the others. he spent the day scribbling away in his notebook, shielding it from passersby in the coffee shop he frequented, followed by making his way between the various casinos that the nearing cities had to offer. it was as if his stroke of luck that had kept his pockets filled for years had finally vanished. before he knew it, he was out of money. he’d bet his car keys, his apartment, each round spiralling until he had nothing more to give. he’d thrown away everything in a feeble attempt to chase the feeling of euphoria he so desperately needed. stumbling into one of the rougher bars not far from his apartment, one drink became five, his smart mouth got him in trouble with people he shouldn’t, and fights broke out. before long, koda was shoved onto the floor of an alleyway next to the bar, steel-toe boots being kicked into his stomach, a few strangers watching from afar. It was new york - no one would report it, no one cared. no one batted an eyelid when fangs reflected in the moonlight, koda being left there for dead, surrounded by his own blood.  what he didn’t expect was to be bitten. he’d heard of vampires, grew up listening to stories of dracula and the little vampire, but he never dreamed it would actually exist. he prayed the fangs were a figment of his imagination, the desire for death and blood loss conjuring it up.. but it was real, and so was his first feed.

[lovebillyhargrove]

Wake me up when July is around

Chapter 14/?

***

They don't talk much after, the three of them still standing there, frozen, eyes glued to the place where the monster was burning thirty seconds ago.

Steve whispers out a question.

"Was it the .. what got Barb?"

"Yes, we believe so. It is also why Jonathan's brother went missing for a week right before Barb disappeared." Nancy answers quietly

"You can't talk about any of that with anyone." She adds

"Why not?"

"It's not that simple. Government is involved. Top secret research or something." Jonathan answers just as quietly

"Research ?? .. What kind of research is that ..?!"

"We are not sure."

Steve might ask a couple of follow-up questions later but right now he feels like he has reached his limit of absorbing new information for the time being.

They haven't moved from the same spot yet.

Steve's feeling a bit .. helpless. Like he needs some advice now, some guidance. What is he supposed to do with all of that?

"What do we do now?"

"You should definitely go home, Steve."

It's unfuckingbelievable. Nancy's major idea is still just for him to leave.

You know what, Steve might've been in love with her, but he's kinda glad it's over now cause the level of pressure? Constant disregard? Nancy sure is beautiful and smart and strong but Steve is so tired of her dismissive attitude

Since the imminent danger seems to be gone and everything is quiet, maybe it's really time for Steve to get going.

"Okay. I'm gonna go home. I guess."

He's reluctantly turning around and heading to the door when Jonathan speaks up

"We're gonna be right behind you. I'm bringing Nancy to her place."

Awww you lovebirds. How domestic. How sweet.

It's funny but it's like

It doesn't even matter now. Nothing matters anymore. There are real monsters crawling from ceilings.

Maybe there's gonna be one falling from the ceiling in Steve's room later, who knows?

Steve pauses near the door

"Actually, Nance, I initially came to apologize for the slut thing, so .. I'm sorry."

"Yeah .. okay."

Okay. Also ..

Steve's looking at Byers and holding up the bat that he's been clutching all this time

"Do you mind if I keep it?"

Jonathan nods

"Yeah, I mean .. No, go ahead."

"Alright."

"Steve! Uhm .."

What, Byers wants his bat back already?

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For .."

"No problem. Yeah, and sorry for that shit I said once about your family."

Jonathan makes a gesture with his hand like it's all forgotten now.

Good.

Steve steps outside. The air is fresh and frosty. It feels nice after all the disgusting stench and the noxious smoke.

He's not wearing his jacket cause he left it in his car. He really thought the whole conversation that he'd been planning on having would take like .. five minutes.

It's January, but Steve doesn't feel cold.

In fact, he's unsure of what he's feeling right now. The adrenaline rush is only now starting to subdue, and Steve .. he needs ..

He honestly doesn't know anything anymore.

Steve gets into his beamer, starts the engine.

What is he gonna tell his mom?

"You can't talk about any of that with anyone."

Nothing, apparently. Hold on, his parents aren't even home. Fuck, FUCK, he doesn't want to be alone right now.

He also doesn't want to be here. He really needs to get home, lock all the doors, hide under the blanket. It's senseless but that's what he wants to do now.

Steve turns the car around, drives to the asphalt road and presses the gas pedal.

There's a little tremor in his fingers, so he grips the steering wheel tighter.

Maybe that's all just a super realistic dream.

Maybe he'll open his eyes soon and he'll be in his bed and he'll be like

Wow that was one fucked up dream

And he would tell Tommy about that during lunch at school tomorrow and he'd be like

That's sick, man.

And they'll smoke under the bleachers and everything will be like it usually is, and the world is still gonna turn around its axis and be the same.

No monsters.

Only in horror movies

Steve's looking in the rear view mirror to check for the lights of Jonathan's car

He's not so sure he's gonna be able to watch any horrors any time soon

FUCKING HELL WHAT THE FUCK

Someone .. something ?

An animal .. ? A .. a person ??

All of a sudden

Without any warning

Runs or .. jumps .. fucking stands in front of Steve's beamer

SHIT !! GODDAMN FUCKING SHIT

Steve isn't even given a fraction of a second to hit the brakes

He doesn't have time to swerve sideways

He only hears the sound of his car hitting a body

And sees it crashing into the windshield

It rolls over the car

Steve steps on the brakes, they screech piercing the night

But

Oh my god oh my god

When is this night gonna finish?

It's too fucking late

He fucking ran someone over!

The beamer stops abruptly, somewhere on the side of the road, and Steve's looking behind

He can't see anything, it's too dark, this damn Kerley road has got no street lights

He has to get out of the car and go check

What if ..

Steve grabs the bat and jumps out

There are weak shrieking sounds, and the body .. the mass on the dark asphalt starts moving as if trying to get up

The sounds are just like ..

Oh my fucking god you have got to be kidding me

In the faint red light coming from his beamer taillights

Steve sees what looks like the monster with a huge flowerlike head

And inhales the smell of burnt flesh

FUCK

As quick as lightning

Harrington is back in the driver's seat, drops the bat

The engine is still running

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck

There's only one thing for him to do

He puts the car in reverse and floors the gas

Tires weep and squeal

The car surges back

The wheels roll over the solid mass

It's not enough

Harrington switches gears

And runs the body over again.

Reverse, backwards

Switch, forward.

He can't

He can't let the monster stay alive

He fucking can't

It's gonna come get him

It's gonna kill him, it's gonna kill his family, his friends and everyone in this town

If it stays alive

Reverse, backwards.

Switch, forward.

Faster.

For the love of god, just fucking! Be dead already !!

Again. Again dammit !!

He feels like a psycho. His heart is beating so fast, it's about to burst his chest open.

There's one single thought on his mind.

KILL.

What else is he supposed to do?

Call a fucking ambulance? Hold the monster's hand till it arrives??

With every time it's easier for the car to run the beast over

Put it in reverse, backwards.

Change gears, forward.

Repeat.

Enough ?

Is it enough ??

Steve's getting out of the car not forgetting to grab the bat and looks at the

Oh my god

It's not .. it's not even a pile

Not anymore

It's not a body

Or anything anymore

It doesn't have any form

It's greyish slimy shapeless, seemingly without a huge amount of blood

Grim something

Smeared on the asphalt

Practically leveled with the asphalt surface, like with a road roller

Steve hears the car approaching and turns around

The car stops

It's Byers' old ford galaxy. He and Nancy are opening the doors and

Steve's relieved to see them?

He's standing in the middle of the road in the beams of his smashed up BMW's bright headlights

"Steve, what is it?" Nancy's asking in disbelief

Steve wants to explain but somehow

He can't say a word

All sounds are stuck in his throat

Heart still trying to rip out of his chest

He's just looking at everything and still clutching the nail bat

Like a lifeline

He is ..

Jonathan is suddenly grabbing his shoulder

"Hey! Hey man, it's .."

Squeezing it.

"It's okay."

Steve wants to shrug Byers' hand off, he wants to run again, run the fuck away from here, wants to ..

Why did he ever decide to come to his house to fucking .. what?

Apologize ??

He also wants to laugh because it's insane

The world's insane

Who needs his apologies?

Who's gonna make everything alright now ??

He feels like screaming, it's too loud in his head, it's too fucking loud

He can't ..

Bear the screaming in his head.

Oh shit. There's another car coming, it's heading towards them, fast

"Is it .. the government?"

Steve's not sure if the question was only in his mind, or he actually voiced it

The car comes to a halt, and Steve sees now, it's the police, it's the Chief's truck

Is he supposed to be afraid of the police now, or are the police still good? He hasn't been filled in on all the rules of this new game yet.

Either way, Steve wants to .. confess.

When the Chief comes up to them, looking around and trying to understand the layout of the situation, Harrington starts blabbering

"I don't know .. I guess it was disoriented. Half-burnt. I didn't see it. It ran in front of my car. I couldn't stop. I didn't have time to stop. But it's also .. it's also .. it's not .. human."

Hopper gets on one knee and looks at the mess on the road. Steve shuts up.

There's a woman asking Byers questions.

The Chief looks up at Steve

"It's Harrington, right? Steve Harrington, the one from Loch Nora?"

He nods.

"Steve, do you hear yourself? You didn't run over a person, Steve. You ran over a dangerous monster."

Hopper is getting up.

"It has killed people before. It would've killed you, given the chance."

The woman comes up to Steve and hugs him. He doesn't hug her back or anything.

Who is she?

Oh, that's Mrs. Byers.

"Hello, Mrs. Byers."

"The poor boy is in shock." She addresses Hopper who continues with his speech

"You did good, kid. You did the only right thing in this situation. You've got nothing to blame yourself for. You did good, okay?"

Steve nods again.

He couldn't have possibly called an ambulance or something for .. the monster, really, could he? Tried saving its life? Let it go?

Like, he gets it. Why does he want to cry so bad then? Why is the world so scary? It wasn't perfect before but now there are also monsters and there's its blood on his hands ? If this kind of monster has any blood .. And on the wheels of his car, his car is totally fucked

"Do you have something to put on, Steve?"

Mrs. Byers' question makes him realize that he does, indeed, feel very cold

"Yeah .. in the backseat." Steve gets the jacket, zips it up. He only now notices that a January night is freezing.

"Alright, let's get this mess cleaned up then."

Hopper sighs and takes out two shovels from the trunk of his police truck. He hands one over to Jonathan and they scrape the monster's remains off the road putting it on a piece of tarpaulin.

While they are doing it, Steve overhears parts of a conversation

"Are you two out of your mind?"

"It could've come back for Will, for anyone, mom! You know how he's been lately!"

"All I've been saying and still am, you can't do something like that without telling the adults!You can't! What if it killed all of you?"

The sounds of metal scraping on the asphalt are harsh and grating

"I don't think it has any chance to come back to life, does it?" Nancy's speculating

"Don't think so, but uh .. it's better to be safe than sorry." - Nancy's comment makes Hopper reconsider something. - "Actually, we don't have to drag this body bag around."

He takes out a can of gasoline from the truck

That's an interesting range of tools the chief of police is keeping in his car

But Steve actually gets the idea why. Who knows how long such nasties have been running around Hawkins and Hooper has had to deal with this ghastly business.

"Let's do it right here, I don't think we'll be getting any company."

Jonathan helps Hopper to drag the tarpaulin to the side of the road. Chief generously pours gasoline over what's left of the monster's corpse, ties the tarpaulin up and again pours some liquid on the canvas.

He lights it up and

It's a jolly bonfire, hot and bright, sending sparks high up in the night air.

When it stops burning, there are only black ashes left, but Hopper stomps on them making sure nothing is left unburnt.

Steve's car has got massive dents - front bumper, the hood, the windshield is all fucked up, he has no idea why it still hasn't fallen to shards

It can still drive though, but the visibility is awful at night, especially when the windshield is all cracked. There's a patch of uncracked glass right on the drive's side, Steve will actually be able to see the road a bit.

"No, you can't get behind the wheel of that baby, Harrington. We'll tow it to your house."

Hopper digs around the trunk again and finds a towing rope. They attach it both to the police truck and the beamer.

Mrs. Byers hugs Steve again

"Thank you for saving them tonight."

And tells him to call if he needs anything. Their phone number is in the phone book every Hawkins household has.

Steve gets in the truck with Hopper, Mrs. Byers gets in her son's car and they set off in the same direction. The Chief is bringing Harrington to Loch Nora, and the Byers are driving Nancy to the neighbouring street.

The night doesn't seem to hold any more surprises.

***

Steve starts feeling jittery when he gets home and is left alone. He lies when Hopper asks him if his parents are home, yeah they must be sleeping already. He doesn't need any company. He's okay.

When Steve's inside the house, he makes sure to lock the door, runs upstairs to his room, locking its door as well, and gets on the floor near the bed waiting. The nail bat is lying near him.

No-one and nothing comes to get him. He sits like that through the night, unable to close his eyes for a second.

This is what you get for wanting to be fucking decent. For wanting to make up for your mistakes.

This is what you fucking get. Everything that you knew before becomes irrelevant, revealing one simple overwhelming truth -

No-one is safe. It's all an illusion.

Steve does get in bed close to six in the morning when the gray light starts creeping through the blinds. He shuts the heavy eyelids and falls into oblivion.

Steve doesn't wake up to to school.

When he opens his eyes, he's still feeling exhausted. The

This is crazy. The world is crazy. Everything is just so fucked up, it's crazy

is playing on repeat in his brain.

His parents are still away in Indianapolis, Steve remembers his mom told him something about staying there for the whole week.

At about four in the afternoon the front door bell rings, and Steve's contemplating whether to open it or not. If you think of it, monsters aren't gonna ring doorbells, right?

He opens the door, and there's Hopper, obviously, checking in on him

"Hey, kid. Just wanted to see how you are."

"I'm okay." Steve mumbles

"Where are your parents?"

"At work."

"I thought your mom doesn't work."

"Yeah, she's out uh .. shopping."

Technically he's not even lying. They might be doing these exact things at this exact moment, only not in Hawkins.

"Of course. You doing okay?"

"Yeah."

"Been to school?"

Steve scoffs.

"And what if I haven't?"

"It's fine, just don't make it a habit."

Steve's nodding.

"Steve. Life goes on, okay? I'm sorry you got involved in all of that. We can't spread gossip around but the people who are in on that, we can talk. Remember, I'm just a phonecall away.'

"Yeah. Good to know."

He actually means it.

"Alright. I'm gonna get going, just uh .. don't do anything stupid, and if anything, contact me right away. Deal?"

"You got it, Chief." Steve salutes him and closes the door.

***

He skips school next day as well. Doesn't go out of the house. Lingers by the windows, looking at the empty swimming pool and the bare woods around their yard, awaiting another monster. Sits around holding on to the bat, staring at the ceiling and the walls

Steve remembers that blood chilling horror freezing him up, when he saw the ceiling in the Byers' living room .. fucking sagging - sagging under someone's weight, under someone's bony limbs. The ceiling itself was turning from a solid substance into .. fabric through which terrible sharp claws were trying to scratch their way

To this world. That used to be safe.

So that's the Big Secret. The one that Nancy and Byers have been so quiet about all these months. Every time Steve felt that Nancy was hiding something from him -

All the little misunderstandings, all the lowered glances and subtle changes in moods and conversation topics

All the lies -

All of it was supposed to hide this abominable terrifying secret.

Now Steve knows too. He sort of wishes he didn't.

Steve doesn't come to school for three days straight.

***

On the third day he gets three phone calls.

First, it's Mom.

"I'm fine, mom, just got a slight cold.. No, I didn't go to school today because of it. When are you coming back? I uh .. I kinda miss you. Yeah .. Also, don't get mad. I got in an accident. I hit a deer with my car. Yes, I'm fine. The car's not. I'll take care of it, yeah .. No, I don't need dad's help, just uh .. with the bill, yeah. What? .. Oh, the deer ? Uhm .. it died, Mom."

Second, it's his ex-girlfriend.

"I'm okay, Nancy, just uh .. how often do these things come out from another dimension? Is it possible to predict when and where it's gonna happen? Would be nice to be given a heads up, you know. Yeah, I'm .. No, I remember I can't talk about it with anyone. Okay. Okay, it's not a good idea to speak about it on the phone. Alright, I understand !! I don't know when I'm gonna come to school."

Then it's Tommy.

"I'm fine, I'm just sick, man, it fucking sucks."

"You coming to school tomorrow? Teachers are wondering where you are. You're gonna get a detention for skipping school, you know that, right?"

Tommy, my man, what are you talking about? What fucking detention? Who cares ?? We're all gonna die ! There are monsters falling from attics and jumping in front of cars

"It's fine, I don't care."

"No, but seriously? You don't sound that sick."

Steve's rolling his eyes. Tommy is worse than his mother sometimes.

"Yeah, I'm gonna come tomorrow. Hey, can you pick me up in the morning? My car's fucked up."

"Your car is what?"

"Yeah I kinda crashed it."

"You crashed it?? How bad? You know what, I'm coming over!"

And before Steve can protest, Tommy hangs up.

***

"Yo dude that's bad. Your dad's gonna be mad." Tommy whistles looking at the state Steve's beamer in.

"He won't. It was an accident. Wasn't even my fault."

"What happened?"

"A deer. I was driving late at night, and the next thing I know, there's this big deer on the road, and I wasn't even given the chance to do anything. It jumped right under the wheels."

Tommy slides his palm over the shattered windshield and purses his lips, thinking

"Take it to Hargrove, they say dude's a wizard at fixing cars."

Hargrove?

"Nah." Harrington cringes

"Nah to what? To taking it to him or him being a wizard?"

"To both? I dunno."

Tommy's looking at Steve funny.

"Why not?"

Yeah, Steve? Why the hell not?

"I uh .. you know I don't like the jerk."

"Oh, come on, man. He's okay. He's actually very good with cars, gotta give him that. We can go together, I'll drive you back."

Tommy touches the windshield again and the whole thing comes crashing down on the dashboard.

Fucking hell

"Come on, Steve! Gotta get it fixed! How many days do you think I'm gonna drive your ass around for?"

"It hasn't even been one day, Tommy!"

"No, but am I picking you up before school tomorrow?"

"Yeah, okay."

Steve's flailing his hands in the air

"Whatever. Still don't understand why I have to take it to Hargrove. It's like we have only one repair shop in Hawkins." He keeps on grumbling

"Come on inside, I'm gonna get dressed."

[mirror-to-the-past]

Even MORE KH3 Assorted Thoughts- because this game is giving so much, for real:

San Fransokyo is absolutely sick and I've been bouncing around the skyscrapers while jamming to the Spiderverse OST. As long as Flowmotion and Shotlock exists, KH as a franchise has gotta give me more urban settings to zip around in.

The cutscene where Sora/Roxas kind of intertwine with their experiences on top of the Golden Gate Bridge. 😭"And when you're not strong enough, he'll make up the difference." Oogh, Roxas being likened to a brother figure for Sora is painful and delicious. I like the inclusion of Hayner, Pence, and Olette through Roxas' eyes. If he had looked to his other side and seen Axel, and a glimpse of Xion, that would've really completed the scene. All the people Roxas had watched the sunset with...

Was a bit confused by the Big Hero 6 plot, not gonna lie. Like, I thought our new Org. member was the Riku Replica, but then this guy says he's KH1 Riku that gave up his body in order to time travel. That and, as I see later, the Riku Replica was just hanging out with Riku in his final moments, so... I dunno, that plotline is just all sorts of fishy. In an attempt to scrutinize here the plot's going with this... I'm unsure if it's really KH1 Riku as he claims he is, especially since Maleficent dropped a major hint with the "though I'm not sure I could tell you from when," Which, given her familiarity with KH1 Riku, tells me that me that we're supposed to be questioning the validity of the Org. Riku's claims.

RIKU'S NEW KEYBLADE LOOKS LIKE A MF CAR KEY HAHA.

Oh. My. God? The World of Darkness scene, guys. So much. It looks like Sora was able to have his Power of Waking activate in order to save Riku (since he used Eraqus' Keyblade and not a Keyblade of Darkness to dive in, the only possibility left as to how that was possible would be using his Power of Waking, so...). 😭 Damn, this is what the Disney world build up was there for, guys. Foreshadowing of power of love, my beloved. Also very sweet/funny how Riku had no way of knowing about Sora rushing to save him, so he's just in the thick of battle, desperate, and mumbling "Sora..." under his breath to keep himself going. Godspeed, champ. 🫡 Then he wonders if he somehow summoned him as Sora proceeds to jump right in for a certified mind blown moment.

Riku's slow-mo POV of Sora splashing in was hilarious. Boy looked like this ->😳

How is Reality Shift Keyblade existing outside of the Sleeping Worlds? Question mark?? So sick that they brought it back but uhm? So many questions with these World of Darkness cutscenes... But wow, goddamn.

The little smile Sora turns around to give Riku after parrying off Aqua's attack. My goodness... so sweet. Not to mention the musical side of the scene, with how Sora's theme melded beautifully into Dearly Beloved when he and Riku used their Keyblade. Man... this game really feels a bit like Sora's answer to Riku's journey in DDD. They've got each other's backs, man!

Sora reaching in to grab Aqua... and the group hug afterwards... Aqua's got to be so on edge, now, after all this. If only Keyblade wielders could get complementary therapy.

Also big-sis Aqua cradling Ventus' sleeping face. 🥹

Also, also Aqua unlocking Castle Oblivion looked so cool.

Vanitas crashing the party was hilarious, considering how hard the boy must have been hustling to get there. "I have been falling through doors for THIRTY MINUTES!"

Ventus flashing between seeing Vanitas in Sora's face was interesting. Definitely a readjustment and a half. Really excited to see dynamic between Ventus and the Destiny trio. Y'know, how he perceives them due to living life through Sora's eyes in a long dream of his own. Love how he saw the Dream Eaters and thought they were adorable...

Aqua got to have a "you got so big" moment with Sora and Kairi and I just find that adorable. I expect one with Terra to Riku once we get him un-possessed.

Btw, everything with Axel/Lea (we love a multiple name king) and Kairi has been driving me crazy this game. I love them. The redheads who get left behind, the stable anchor for their groups who go through the pain of abandonment and the guilt of helplessness. Obviously, they're different people and it'd be nice to hear more of each of their own perspectives, but KH is a series of parallels, and I think that most things haunting Axel/Lea haunt Kairi as well.

...In a similar vein, I was just as gutted by and perceive the wonderful sunset scene between Sora and Kairi to be Kairi's own "You just keep running, but I'll always be there to bring you back," equivalent moment. But since it's Kairi, and not Axel, she's melancholic in her subtle pleading to Sora. "I just want to be a part of your life no matter what. That's all." She verbally minimizes herself and her presence in Sora's life because of the growing distance between them, and that's heartbreaking, dude. Still, I'm happy that Sora agreed to have a Paopu Fruit with her to give her some level of affirmation, even if he looked a little confused/unsure at first. She needs that semblance of stability before the shit goes down so much right now, and I wonder if he realized that to some degree... Kairi, my poor child. I hope she realizes how important she is, later on.

Also, I'll just say it here, because this is just me spitballing but it's on topic. I get the feeling this scene might have been foreshadowed by the Hundred Acre Woods story (and why was that world so SHORT, AAA-). I had my suspicions back in KH2 due to the amnesia subplot, and now feel pretty confident that the Hundred Acre Woods are meant to connect to Sora's perception of "home/childhood" and therefore his perception of Kairi as well. While ecstatic to see Pooh and gang in KH1 and KH2, here he was placating and ready to leave in KH3 (which was hilarious contrast to myself, btw, because I was more like "LFG" 😂). I thought it was perhaps just strange writing at first, but then the game goes out and says it when Sora considers how he feels his connection to everyone is weaker, and he's not sure why. And this is after Pooh is all "Welcome home," (KH2 ending, anyone) and worries about "forgetting [Sora] away" (Sora's absence making Pooh lose his place in his life, also alluding to KH2, possibly). Of course Sora doesn't like that and panics, because similarly to how Kairi struggles with change of character and circumstance, Sora struggles with the idea of relationships changing or growing apart- he's very stubborn about it. So, I appreciate Merlin saying the thing about relationships merely changing form, and that it's not the end of the world. Anyway, all of this is making me very morose, because it makes me think of all of those people you grew up with that you don't talk to much anymore but still think of fondly and would love to hear from them again, as you remember them in your mind's eye.

*shakes them* SORA. KAIRI. TALK TO EACH OTHER. SORA, LET KAIRI BE AT PEACE, HER SAD-ASS SOCIAL MEDIA POST THING ON THE LOADING SCREEN IS BUMMING ME OUT. Anyway, this is why I'm happy that Kairi is making friends with Axel/Lea, so she can have other people in her life that won't necessarily go galavanting into the universe and leave her behind at a moment's notice (/hj, no Sora hate, for real, just look at my blog, he's my favorite 'lil guy along with Roxas).

Uh, so... now I'm putting off progressing the story by getting chests and finding lucky emblems, lol. Right now, all my dudes are happy and taking a little break before they confront the baddies, and I'm slightly nervous to see if the game also delivers on the foreshadowing of the Disney Worlds also having a lot of dying in them. 😬 Obviously whatever happens will get fixed with the power of love and whatnot, but I don't exactly want the gang to go through more suffering than they've got to, lmao. And GIVE ME ROXAS AND XION ALREADY.