#her outburst in the police station makes that clear

[silviakundera]

watching Lovely Runner to check out the hype. 6 episodes completed, I have mixed feelings. (Don't read my thoughts if that's just going to make you upset. Not everyone is going to feel the same way about the dramas you love. My thoughts can't affect your love for the material. ❤) SPOILERS.

I really enjoy all the moments where she is an old soul and bemused at high school life. And her relationship with her mom.

I'm clearly not the target audience because FL being a hardcore super-fan of the kpop star ML in the future timeline is making it impossible to ship them. Like, his teen crush is sincerely adorkable but I keep waiting for a line to drawn where she stops seeing him as the idol and likes him as a regular ass person -- and I'm not feeling it yet as of episode 6. To accept this stan love premise, I think I'd need to see her stop liking him (un-stan) and then watch the process of her falling in love for real.

I like her and ML's characters but in all honesty, I've developed SML syndrome. (I enjoy how she talks shit to SML and they have these delightfully frank conversations with no pretence. I like the contrast in how she's been changing him without trying, in the background of her trying so hard to fix her idol.)

I know from Tumblr that this is actually a serial killer villain and the ML didn't end his own life after all. And being 6 episodes into the drama, I definitely wish that wasn't the case. I feel like it would be much more profound (to me!! just as a personal preference) if truly the only person the ML has to be saved from is himself. It would just be a beautiful mirror for me of how he changed her life. Giving back to him, full circle.

And there's really just SOMETHING that hits for me in the idea of the impossibility of just "fixing" a couple life events to cure depression - the idea of her changing history again & again and it not saving him, because depression isn't just about outer circumstances but what a person is experiencing inside. Her having to come to terms that demanding he be happy and care for himself isn't the solution. (People with depression are so often told to just try harder to be happy and think happy thoughts).

I fully understand this is NOT the story the writer wants to tell and the story the writer DOES want to tell really resonated with people. But that's just how it goes sometimes. 🤷 It simply wasn't written for me.

The story I'd be more enthused about would be FL going into these time travel adventures to save her kpop idol who inspired her to keep living, at her darkest point, and eventually helping him believe in 1 more day. So he lives through THAT DAY in the future. After which nothing is guaranteed. But there is hope. One day at a time. And through that experience, realizing her obsessive fangirl love was never about his real self... the same as his love-at-first-sight teen crush doesn't hold up after getting to know her real self. And she and pathetic teen delinquent Kim Tae Sung fall in love & are dating for real now when she returns to the future, as a rom com subplot. She finally sees her idol as just another struggling person and they do become friends.

This drama is very well made and I can see why this drama and its otp are so popular. Just not exactly catered to my tastes. You know how for some people, fictional incest ships are a deal breaker? well lmao those don't squick me but fan x celebrity pairings do 🙈😂😭

[rainydayathogwarts]

No more ink - Spencer Reid x reader

Summary: reader goes undercover for a mission and the team discovers all her tattoos. Tattoos which might be the reason her life ends. sprinkle of spencer x reader. Warning: gore, blood, SA kind of (if you blink you'll miss it), reader is undercover, reader becomes a stripper for like 2 secs.

Staring at the images of several murdered women, all sporting countless tattoos on their bodies, a chill is sent down your spine. What is so fetishising about tattoos? And more importantly, why were all these women so brutally killed after the assault? The uncomfortable silence in the station's big conference room is broken by JJ, who pulls out her phone, stating "Well I'm going to call someone so we can get the tattoos drawn on, Y/N are you sure you're comfortable doing this?" You nodded, adding "Yeah, but there's no need to call anyone."

Your comment had the entire team and police officers in the room looking your way, some confused, many surprised. You glance up at Spencer's reaction, hoping he didn't look disgusted at your confession. Did he dislike women with tattoos? His put together appearance always led you to believing so. "I mean, it's part of the reason I volunteered, I fit the profile the most." And it was true. Many of the women all had the same coloured and textured hair, body type, height and were all littered with tattoos. "How else are we going to get in?" You insisted, all well aware of the gang's strict policy when allowing people into the club. There would be no chance any of your male counterparts would be let in, because only women had ever been targeted by them, and looking between you and the other two women on the team, there was a clear difference between who hit the profile.

"Y/N, I've never seen you with tattoos." Things Morgan out loud, making sure he understood clearly what you meant by fitting the profile best. "People take me more seriously, professionally speaking, when they're hidden." You reply, shrugging your shoulders, which only puts an emphasis on the long sleeved top you're wearing. "Okay wait, just so we're clear here, you mean like you're heavily tatted? Not just one cute little smiley face on your ankle type of tatted?" You chuckle at Emily's small outburst, nodding along with her words. "You know what, why don't I just show you."

You end up revealing yourself to the team a mere hours later, tugging the mini black dress down your body, barely hiding your backside from any onlookers. You step out of the bathroom, basic black heels clicking loudly on the floor, attracting the attention of the team, packing up their things to head down to the van, fully equipped to keep track of you while you're inside. "Okay, I'm ready to go." There's a moment of silence in which the team fully takes in your appearance, or rather your tattoos.

A dark snake slithers up your ankle, and a mysterious year is written in bold above your knee, thigh illustrated with a mysterious design that resembles both stars and a vintage chandelier at once. Your second leg sports several patchwork pieces - an intricate compass and an angel - with two vine leaves curling around your knee, leading up to your thigh where you show off tattoos of a hummingbird and the sun. With your hair pushed back, they have a clear view of the design on your collarbone, dipping slightly into the gap between your breasts, leaving the rest to imagination. Your right arm is covered in a large abstract piece, and when you finally turn around, leaving due to the silence from your teammates, you allow them a perfect view of the wave tattoo on the back of your left arm, looping around your bicep, and a dagger tattoo on the back of your forearm.

Footsteps scurry after you, a soft hand wrapping around your wrist as you begin to leave the police station, pulling you into an empty hallway. Spencer tugs you to face him, eyes filled with worry. "Y/n, are you sure about this?" He whispers, his breath hitting your face with every word he speaks. "I'll be okay Spence." You reassure him, though you're sure he's already profiled you and can sense your nervousness.

In the van, Hotch reminds you of the protocol, securing the microphone into your dress and the clasping the necklace with a hidden camera around your neck, so that he and Garcia can monitor you from outside. They've given you a code word, and secured a silver bracelet around your wrist with a hidden alarm in the gem. Spencer squeezes your hand before you walk out of the van, a safe distance away from the cameras and insists one last time that you can back out any time you want.

You sneak into the hidden alleyway where the club is located, gulping slightly when you spot the bouncer before plastering a fake smile on your face. Everything will be okay, you repeat in your head, calming slightly when the bouncer steps aside for you to walk into a dark room. The door shuts behind you and your breathing quickens slightly, only to realise that the room isn't a room at all, because it's moving and is just an elevator instead. The doors open from behind you, welcoming you into a dark and mysterious, wide room. Red lights are on, and you can spot a stage with two poles, two exotic dancers performing a routine in exact synchrony.

Standing still, you have no idea where to start when a waiter, dressed in a black suit with his hair slicked back appears in front of you. "Champagne?" You nod, taking a glass from the tray not to look suspicious, but don't take a sip from it either. You make your way deeper into the room, swaying your body to the music, scanning the people in the club. For each man, there's at least two women by his side, giggling and brushing up against their arms, pressing kisses where skin is showing. Each woman fits the profile of those who'd been found dead, heavily tatted up, sporting the same features. Women lead men through red curtains, disappearing into different rooms, strutting proudly.

As far as the sex went, it all seemed consensual, meaning they couldn't have been unconscious or drugged before it happened, which completely changed your profile. "What's a sweet girl doing in a place like this all by herself?" You spun around, to face an older man, looking like he was in his late 40's. He sported a grey beard, and had a full head of luscious hair. He wore a crisp black button up with matching black trousers, and you could spot tattoos crawling up his neck and down his hands. "Looking for a man like you." You replied with a smirk, cocking your head to the side. He slid his free hand into yours, leading you into a round booth, where you had a clear view of the rest of the club.

"Tell me a little bit about yourself." You said before he could say anything, pressing your body up against his, and luckily for you, that's what he did. In the meanwhile, you observed the movement in the room, noticing waiters carrying garbage bags or cleaning empty tables. Weird. All the waiters seemed exceptionally muscular, but in a place like this, you would have assumed the waiters would be half naked and, well, women. "You alright, sweetheart?" The man asks, and you nod, smiling up at him sweetly. "I just need to use the bathroom. Do you think you could point me in that direction?" You ask, squeezing your thighs, where his big hand rests.

As soon as he gives you a direction, you hop up, following the first words he's told you 'Walk straight, take a left,' Once you've taken the left, finally out of the man's sight, you begin exploring the halls, becoming gradually more empty the deeper you walk into the club. For every 'private' room, which is only separated from the rest of the club by a curtain, there's a waiter (or rather security guard) standing at the entrance, protecting anyone from entering, or exiting. When you near the end of the hallway, you internally cringe. You had no where to go and a guard protecting the next room to the left. Exhaling, you stopped in front of the guard, looking up at him. "You the dancer?" He asks, and aimlessly, you nod.

You swallow when he steps to the side, letting you into the room. "Cover-up goes in the basket on your left." He instructs, before stepping back out of the room. You take a moment to take in the client, sitting on a red couch with his legs spread, shirt buttoned down all the way to his trousers. What have you done? You turn around, sighing, pulling your black dress over your body, just in time for music to start playing. You spin around, walking over the the man seductively, swaying your hips to the beat of the music until you stop in front of him, placing both hands on his chest. "Oh you're way better than the girl I had last time" The man mutters, groaning as he man spreads even more.

You have a clear view of the tent in his pants but blink a few times, trying to forget its image. Spinning to the music again, you face the wall, eyes glued on where you can see the guard's shoes in front of the curtain as you keep moving to the music. The man's hands settle on your ass, and you let him grope you, shutting your eyes in discomfort, cringing before he turns you to face him. His hands grip your hips instead, pulling you onto him and you follow, straddling his hips while swaying your body. You continue moving until the music dies down, slowing your movements alongside the decreasing volume.

The man puts his hands up, almost defensively, just in time for the guard to come into the room. He doesn't stop walking towards you until he stands right in front of you, and he grabs your arm, leading you to a different door than the one you came through. You try brushing him off you, chest constricting as anxiety builds up in you. "Can I at least have my dress back?" You ask, scoffing as he drags you into an empty room. "Sure, but I'm sure how much it'll do for you now." Instantly, you're pressing down on the gem on your bracelet, heart beginning to race as you look around the small room.

The cracks in the floorboards are stained a red-ish brown, and a single cuff is attached to a wall, where the man is trying to drag you. You recover quickly from you panicky moment, aggressively shoving him off you and bringing a leg up to push him backwards. He staggers back, but recovers quickly, bringing a knife out of his pocket and immediately charging at you. Ducking under his arm, you grab his wrist, trying to wrestle the dagger out of his hand. He stumbles, falling onto the floor, his grip loosening on the knife, which you tug back so hard it bounces back in your direction, cutting a gash through your arm. Just as you take a step forward, getting him whilst he's still down, the door slams open.

"NOBODY MOVE!" Just as you throw your hands up into the air, dropping the dagger onto the floor, a coat is wrapped around your shoulders and you're being pulled into a hug. You freeze for a moment until you smell the familiar essence of dark coffee and vanilla, melting into Spencer's arms as he whispers muffled 'It's okay's soothingly into your hair. Tears unwillingly build up in your eyes and you bring your hands up to grip the bits of Spencer's shirt that stick out from underneath his bulletproof vest.

Slowly, the coat dampens from where you cut yourself, and Spencer quickly realises, removing his arms from around you. "We need to get you to an ambulance." But even as Spencer leads you back outside, still whispering comforting words, that you'll be okay, you know it's not. Because in that moment you silently vow to yourself that you'll never get another tattoo inked into your skin ever again.

[crossover-enthusiast]

Jdjdjeme yeah

But anyway, John begins to say that in a better scenario, Radford had probably run away somewhere without a word tk anyone at all, and most likely withdrew his savings to go to wherever said place was. Or in a worse case scenario, Radford was probably dead. This seems to make Leon only grow more distressed though.

John then explains that the townspeople have been saying that it was the curse, but he didn't believe any of that shit. Until he could figure out why the deaths and vanishings kept happening, he wouldn't ever see that lie as actually true. Leon seems to agree with this, even though he doesn't really say anything. Eventually, the two part ways, but Leon goes home—now in a state of shock.

The next day, John and Leon meet up again. Though this time, it's at the police station. John begins to explain the whole curse thing more thoroughly to Leon and how it was probably all bullshit. But John also informs that they had caught the guy who killed the aunt, and surprisingly, it wasn't Radford. It was just some drunk asshole guy who probably killed her while hallucinating. They now had said asshole guy behind bars of course.

Yet despite this information, Leon doesn't believe jackshit of what John is saying. And he makes that abundantly clear with his slightly intimidating sarcasm and his soft outbursts of slight frustration and anger.

(Stopping so ya can read)

Ohhh, interesting -- not sure I believe John either, but I wonder who that drunk asshole was

[faerieswrites]

Not sure I can explain how much I need season 2 to have snarky flirty asshole Tyler who annoys the shit out of everyone but the second he senses danger to Wednesday he just goes absolutely feral

smug!tyler drabble

(This was typed out on mobile lol sorry for the weird formatting / typos)

"What can I get you?" Wednesday looked up at the familiar male voice, her eyes slightly wide with shock. Was that - no, it couldn't be. But when her eyes met the speaker's, she couldn't avoid the bizarre, impossible truth - Tyler was standing behind the counter of the Weathervane, flashing her a shit-eating grin and asking for her coffee order.

Enid, who had been getting a drink with Wednesday as part of their new bi-daily "girl time" ritual, let out a shocked gasp.

"Tyler?" Her voice was incredulous, and slightly shaky with anger. It seemed Enid hadn't forgotten about the scuffle she and the hyde had the last semester. Tyler smiled at her, and the grin was all teeth. Enid's claws extended partially, making Tyler laugh mockingly.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Enid. What do you want to order?" Tyler said. Wednesday narrowed her eyes at him, trying to figure out why the hell he was back in town and not in a mental institution or behind bars. Had the sheriff pulled some strings? Had he escaped?

"We don't want your fucking-"

"I'll take a quad." Wednesday interrupted Enid's angry outburst, too curious to walk away. Judging by the smug expression on Tyler's face, he'd expected her to stick around. Wednesday could indulge Tyler, just this once. She was dying to know how he'd managed to assimilate back into normal life with no issue.

"Coming right up," Tyler said, looking far too pleased for Wednesday's liking. Her curiosity was strong, but it would only go so far in excusing Tyler's, frankly, obnoxious behavior. This was all hyde; the boy from before the police station was gone, leaving only the flirty, cocky, dangerous side of Tyler. Wednesday, unfortunately, was hopelessly attracted to him.

Before Wednesday could start ratting off questions or Enid could start pestering Wednesday to leave, someone cleared their throat behind the two girls loudly. Wednesday turned around and saw a squat, blonde woman looking shrewd and angry, her face pinched like a french bulldog's.

"Some of us," God, her voice was nasally, "Have work to get to." The woman pushed Wednesday to the side slightly, stepping forward to get closer to the counter. "You need to have some respect for other people's time." Wednesday had to give it to the woman, she had audacity. The blonde set her arm on the counter, her loose, long-sleeved ugly green cardigan draped all over the wood.

Tyler, having seen the entire exchange, promptly walked back over and sank a knife into her cardigan, pinning it to the counter. Enid, Wednesday, and the now terrified woman stared at the knife in shock. Had Tyler lost his goddamned mind? To his credit, the four of them were the only ones in the cafe at the time, due to it being the dead period of his shift, but still.

Tyler gave the woman his most charming customer service smile, setting Wednesday's quad, poured into a travel cup, on the counter and sliding it towards her. Wednesday took the coffee cup and took a sip. Perfectly brewed. She'd missed Tyler's coffee brewing skills.

"Sit tight, ma'am! I'll be with you in a minute." Tyler was smiling brightly, and his tone was polite, but there was an insanity behind his eyes that had the blonde woman cursing up a storm and trying to tug the knife out of the countertop. Unfortunately for her, Tyler had wedged it too deeply into the wood for her to get it out herself, and he seemed content just to watch her struggle.

Wednesday rolled her eyes at the display, taking her to go cup and pulling a shell shocked Enid out of the cafe. When she looked down at the cup, there was a message scrawled in Tyler's messy handwriting.

I know you have questions. Crackstone's Crypt, 11 pm. Promise there won't be anything Legally Blonde related.

[ateezmakemeweep]

broken (part 2).

san x reader

word count: 12k

angst, fluff (tw: mentions of domestic abuse and rape)

(part 1)

no matter how many times you tried to change your thinking patterns, you still classified your life into two parts: before the abuse and after.

you thought, after watching your ex-boyfriend being escorted out of the courtroom with a one-year prison sentence, that you wouldn’t be scared of him anymore.

you thought that moving out of the house and living in your new apartment would make day to day life easier, not needing to see the floor you were beaten on or counter you were forced to have sex on every day.

you thought that having san would make you feel happy and loved and enough. that having a whole new family unit consisting of seven other crazy boys and a crotchety old lady would be enough.

but as you sit curled up on the bathroom floor with tears in your eyes, you’re seeing you severely underestimated everything. 

underestimated just how much trauma you still had to sort through and how badly that asshole really did mess you up.

six months ago:

“so we have the surveillance footage and witness testimony from your neighbors,” your lawyer explains gently, an older woman with kind eyes and soft-spoken voice that quickly transforms in the courtroom. 

“but a personal statement, if you feel comfortable, would probably guarantee the harshest sentence.”

the harshest sentence being one year, a measly 365 days compared to the 1,825 he subjected you to every kind of abuse: sexual, emotional, mental, physical. 

hitting and grabbing and slapping until your skin was littered with bruises and cuts. 

talking so harshly to you that you believed dying was the best option, stripping you from any sort of confidence or self-esteem you once had. 

making you feel completely inept and useless, solely viewing you as a piece of property he could boss around and use at his disposal. 

you had left the office with shaking hands and a pounding heart, barely being able to dial san’s number before he answered after one ring. 

this was the first appointment you’ve went to without him, insisting he can’t and won’t miss his midterm for this. 

“hi, love. everything go okay?” he asks softly, with the sweet gentle voice that has quite literally kept you alive these past few months. 

you don’t know what you did in another life to deserve san but you know that without him, you probably wouldn’t have made it this far. without his constant support and sweet reassurances, you wouldn’t have believed you could ever do this. 

willingly tell police officers and lawyers about what happened to you, break down and expose yourself in such a way that always made you feel weak and pathetic. 

admit aloud that, yes, you’ve been a victim of abuse and no, those bruises and scars on your body aren’t from clumsy falls into the wall or cabinet. 

without him, accompanying you to the police station or lawyer’s office, where you knew jungkook was lingering, you would’ve never felt safe. 

you would’ve broke down and took it all back, told them that you made it all up and to release him because he didn’t do anything wrong.

but he did so much wrong and you and san know that. the police and lawyers and judges know it too, several outbursts from the man in court and at the station proving that. 

it’s what makes the thought of a personal statement so hard, having to look your ex-boyfriend in the face and watch him stare you down with not an ounce of remorse or sorrow.

san must know it too, if your silence through the phone tells him anything, and you can already hear shuffling in the background as he prepares to leave his class and head to your apartment.   

“are you done with your test?” you ask first, voice sweet but mousy in a way that makes san’s stomach sink

he knew today was gonna be rough for you, he knew he should’ve asked his professor to retake the midterm next week. 

“yes,” the boy answers immediately, knowing he’s about to run back into the classroom, circle c for the last three answers and haul ass to his car. 

“san, are you-”

“i was done, it’s fine, y/n,” he confirms gently, feet moving and body desperate to rush toward your apartment. 

because he knows after all of this time, you’ve learned to hold back your pain and suffering. years of practice and keeping tears at bay that he’s noticed have made these months difficult for you two. 

and he hates knowing that you still wait till you’re alone to cry. 

that even though every time you do, he wipes away every tear and holds you to his chest until you fall asleep, you still feel most comfortable being sad alone.

that you’re probably already home now, about to bury your face in a pillow and sob until you hear his car and wipe your cheeks clean like nothing is wrong. 

but there’s a lot wrong. 

a lot wrong with how you’ve been treated and how hard it is to move past it. 

a lot wrong with the legal system that makes this painful journey even more exhausting, forcing you to recount memory after memory and answer question after question about the worst ordeals of your life. 

that’s why san can’t help but turn in his test and rush out the door to his car, speeding off campus and onto the highway in hot pursuit of your apartment above the bakery.

it had seemed like perfect little place to get you back on your feet, the smell of freshly baked bread and pleasant bustle of regulars greeting you in the early morning hours. 

there was no commute for you, just a walk down the stairs and through the yellow door of the bakery, where simple work waited for you. 

“you just need to ring up the customers and maybe clean a table or two. most people take their things to go,” your boss had told you, a divorced mother of three who spent most of her life baking before she was finally able to open up a place of her own. 

it was simple work but it was more than you’d done in years, something as little as small talk with regulars successfully draining you. filling you with a nervousness and fear that you’re still feeling even without your ex’s presence. 

but it’s in the way a man yells on the phone about a business deal going sour while waiting for his morning coffee. 

a woman chastising her kids saying that they won’t get to eat the cookies she’s buying after dinner. 

the slam of the door when a harsh gust of wind howls from outside and rattles the small bakery with light blue walls and pictures of bread and desserts.

you don’t know how many coffees you’ve spilt or plates you’ve broken from jumping at the harsh sounds, realizing little by little how hard this transition was gonna be. 

even with san and his friends and your boss and the crazy old lady who secured this new life for you in the first place, it’s still hard. 

you can’t even imagine doing all of these new things alone, just living in such a simple way that the average person takes for granted. 

but you suppose it’s not all simple yet, going back and forth between meetings with your lawyer and the police for the court date that’s rapidly approaching. 

you can feel that the closer it comes, the harder it is to breathe. 

the mere thought of seeing the man who hurt you for the longest five years of your life, sitting in front of you with not an ounce of remorse on his face. making  this process even harder because how are you supposed to talk in front of him? 

see clear as day that you’re not safe and you never will be. 

that he’s gonna get out in a year, because that’s the harshest sentence possible without you being hospitalized or dead, and hurt you again. he’s never gonna stop hurting you because he always said you were his and he wouldn’t ever hesitate to-

you don’t even hear the jingle of san’s keys opening the front door or his softly spoken call of your name. 

you’re only aware of his presence when you feel his warm, small hands cup your face, his thumbs rubbing over your wet, salty skin as he mutters your name lowly.

“hey, i’m here, i’m here,” he mumbles sweetly, tone soft and gentle the way it always is no matter what the circumstances are.

he plops down on the couch before pulling you into his lap, his hand rubbing up and down your back gently. you hear the quiet but firm “sh, sh, sh,” against your head, the sharp calming hums always in threes as an attempt to ground you.

you try to focus on his calming sounds and even breaths, the hand on your back so warm and gentle as he lulls your panicked body into a calmer state. 

you bury your face in his chest and breathe in his scent, cologne and detergent mixed with his natural scent that lingers on your pillow every morning. 

“i-i’m sorry.”

the words make his stomach plummet, tears burning his eyes because you never have anything to be sorry for. you never have anything to be sorry for and you say it all the time. 

when you bump into him in the kitchen while making food together.

when you sit on the remote and change the channel by accident.

when you burnt the cookies one night and made the fire alarm go off. 

he remembers that being one of the worse nights, the loud noises making you jump while also flinching away when he lifted his arm up to fan away the smoke. and then you immediately apologized again, cookies long forgotten before he grabbed your hand and led you into the living room. 

he just held your hand as you both watched tv, his thumb rubbing over your skin before you spoke words so quietly, he almost missed them. 

“i wish...i would stop doing that.”

he cranes his neck over to look at you, eyebrow raised and eyes soft as he looks  at you questioningly. 

he wants to tease and say that you’ve never burnt the cookies before but anytime you feel comfortable enough to talk to him like this, he never wants to say the wrong thing.

“i...i know you would never hurt me,“ you continue after a few moments. “and i know i’m just...scared easily, i guess. but it makes me feel bad,” you admit quietly, heart pulling in your chest as you look at the man beside you. 

he has gotten you through the hardest times of your life, has been by your side every step of the way with no questions or complaints, and you haven’t been able to repay him. 

not even with a plate of fucking cookies. 

“you don’t have to feel bad, y/n,” san says gently, his hand reaching out slowly to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. 

your eyes close at his feather light touch and the way it makes your heart jump, his fingers lingering on you in a way that makes you feel so safe and content. 

“and i know it’s hard to believe still but you have nothing to be scared of either. i’m not gonna let anyone hurt you again and i mean that.”

“but i feel like i’m hurting you,” you mumble softly, pulling your knees up as you rest your head on the couch cushion. his brows pull together as his eyes roam your face, a pout on his lips the more he looks at you in silence.

“you’ve helped me so much and i just...” tears fill your eyes as you struggle to find the words and breathe. you’ve only been living in your new house for two months now and almost every day, san has been here. 

bringing you food, helping you clean and decorate, spending late nights with you watching movies, helping you through an inevitable fit of panic when your memories and life become too much. 

he makes it easier to breathe and you’re scared that without him, you’re gonna stop one day.

“i just keep... taking from you. you get nothing out of helping me but you still do it anyway and i...you shouldn’t even bother, san. i-i’m not worth this time and i just want you to-”

“stop.”

he tries to keep the anger out of his voice knowing that all of this is what you’ve been told. you’ve been told your whole life that you weren’t enough, were only deemed worthy by a piece of shit who did nothing but hurt and berate you. 

but it doesn’t make it any less hard to hear. to hear in your voice and see in your eyes that you truly believe you’re not worth the time he wants to put into you. 

“you’re worth the time to me,” he says, voice gentle but firm in a way that makes a lump form in your throat. his finger reaches out to trace small circles on your hand, your eyes following it so he doesn’t see the tears building up. 

“i like seeing you happy, y/n. and i wanna help you.”

your teary eyes meet his and you swallow the growing lump in your throat when you see the look on his face, soft and sweet in a way you still can’t believe is directed toward you. 

“i feel like i need a lot of help,” you mutter, voice barely above a whisper as you think back to how day to day life is so challenging and draining. 

the loud voices and the screaming kids and banging door that sends you into a panic. the broken dishes and tear stains on your pillow that are there more often than not after san leaves every night. 

but san’s hearing each and every word right now, his heart panging in his chest at how vulnerable you are right now. how you let him see this side of you and continue to despite how hard he knows everything’s been. 

“that’s okay,” he smiles softly, stopping the circles on your hand to intertwine your fingers. “i’m gonna be here as long as you need me, okay?”

you look up to meet his gaze and feel a tear slip down your cheek, a cry bubbling in your throat that you so desperately wanna let out. 

but you also don’t wanna make san any more sad tonight, biting down on your lip as you nod your head before leaning on his shoulder. 

you don’t see the smile that crosses his face or hear the content sigh that leaves him, his hand in yours and presence enough to lull you into a dreamless sleep. 

“you have nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you quietly, looking over your face as he wipes at your cheeks. you meet his gaze and your eyes stay locked on one another, his thumb gentle and soft across your skin.

“did you do good on your test?” you squeak out after a few moments of silence, a smile breaking out across his face. 

“of course i did, we studied all night, didn’t we?” he teases, referring to just last night when you helped him with index cards and read them all to him twice before promptly passing out on his chest. 

a blush crosses your face as you look down in embarrassment, a sweet high pitched laugh bubbling out of him. 

“it’s okay, don’t be embarrassed. your drool only ruined a few of them.”

“i don’t drool,” you mutter, a small smile on san’s face as he tightens his hold on you in his lap. 

“did you eat yet?” 

you shake your head as indistinguishable mumble leaves your mouth, curling yourself into his chest more as his warmth and comforting scent envelop you. 

his lips brush against your hair in a small smile, quietly asking what you wanna eat even though he knows you’re gonna say you don’t care. 

“whatever you want,” you mutter against him, the exhaustion of waking up at 5 am and the draining meeting with your lawyer catching up to you. 

and san knows on days like these that chinese food and watching reruns of old cartoons is usually the thing you need to feel a little bit better. 

pretend that just for a few hours, everything is okay and there’s nothing more pressing than spending the night together in what always turns into having a sleepover. 

because just as you found it difficult to live in that house you once shared with jungkook, san finds it difficult to go back to that block every night. 

stay just a few houses away from where he’s reminded of how you were treated while he was just a few feet away.

watching as the backyard once full of flowers becomes dull and colorless and every window reminds him of what was truly going on behind the walls of that house.

it’s one of the reasons why staying with you just makes sense. that and the fact that leaving you always proves to be the hardest part of the night together. 

you with a pout and sad eyes quietly whining for him to stay and him being completely powerless as he throws himself down next to you and wraps his arms around your waist. 

he’s not surprised when the same thing happens tonight, your eyes drooping and body slacking against him before he quietly asks if he should get going. you look up at him tiredly, eyebrows pulled together and one cheek red from you leaning on his chest in a way that makes him hold back a smirk.

“no,” you say quietly, your eyes roaming his face before you quickly realize he might want to leave you. the thought rips a pang of hurt through your chest but you can’t help but feel that might be the case. 

you ripped him away from his test and cried on him all night. why would he wanna stay with you? 

“unless you want to. i-i don’t wanna force you to stay here if you don’t-”

“of course i want to,” san responds, taking your face in his hands gently and allowing his thumb to run along your soft skin. “i was just checking.” 

because he also never wants to overstep. make you feel too overwhelmed or smothered since if it were up to him, he’d never leave your side again. 

his words and touch send relief through you, the panic and fear that attempted to break through quickly dying it. everything about him makes it so easy to be calm and comforted, a smile making it’s way on your face as you nod. 

you place your head back on his chest, sighing contently when you feel his arm wrap around your shoulder a few moments later. you stare at the tv blankly, not sure how long you’re lost in thought about the conversation at the lawyer’s office. 

“but a personal statement, if you feel comfortable, would probably guarantee the harshest sentence.”

could you really do that though? strip yourself to the most vulnerable degree and proclaim to a courtroom full of people how weak and defenseless you were for five years? how the man who’s gonna be seated just a few feet away over you had that much power over you? 

would you feel better looking jungkook in the face and telling him that you’re gonna be strong and come out okay? that he won’t be able to hurt you anymore and will rot behind a cell for what he’s done?

or would you it make you feel worse? seeing him again and the blankness behind his eyes. the pity and sorrowful looks on the judge and court officers when your voice shakes and eyes brim with tears as you recall your old life.

you’re not even sure if san is awake at this point, his arm heavy around you and breaths even under your head but you can’t seem to stop your tired self from speaking.

“my lawyer suggested i make a personal statement.”

san doesn’t stutter under you, the only sign of him being awake when he hums lowly and gently pulls away from you. the bed dips next to you when he lays on his side, your eyes meeting just as he reaches out to smooth out a messy strand of hair.

“yeah?” he mumbles lowly, his soft eyes roaming your face. “how do you feel about that?” 

the question, despite the serious tension in leaves in the air, makes you smile softly, remembering when your lawyer recommended counseling, you thought back to san waiting in the car and felt as if you already had all the support you needed. 

he has the most patience and kindness of anyone you’ve ever met before and you can’t imagine trusting someone as much as trust him. have someone else hear you this vulnerable and genuine, see you cry and feel all the emotions that come with rebuilding your life after being a victim of domestic violence. 

“i don’t know if i can do it.”

the words make san frown, holding himself up on his elbow as he looks over your face with concern. he can tell you’re tired, eyes hazy and drooping but he also can tell your mind’s been preoccupied. 

more so than usual. 

“i...i don’t know if i could do it with him there.”

“he’s not gonna hurt you anymore,” san reminds you gently, his hand creeping down in between your bodies to take ahold of yours. it’s soft and small and warm and everything about it makes you feel safe. 

“i-i know. but...just him being there. watching me and hearing me say what he’s done when i know he has no remorse. and then telling more people how i let it go on for so long and-”

“you didn’t let anything go on for too long. it wasn’t your fault. y/n.”

tears burn your eyes as a lump forms in your throat, hearing those words from almost everyone in your life but still not having the ability to grasp it. 

it feels like your fault, it feels like you’ve allowed yourself to be treated in a way you knew was wrong for far too long. 

because now look at you. trying to rebuild your life but being panicked when the wind howls just a little too loudly outside. 

you take a few deep calming breaks and swallow as you look at him, eyes hazy and glossy and threatening to close shut; you’re so tired but it’s like your brain never stops going these days. 

“she said...it’d guarantee the harshest sentence. but shouldn’t the evidence be enough? the tapes and the witnesses? why- why do i have to keep going through this?” you whisper, voice shaky and tears building as you look at him. the sight alone makes san stomach sink, rolling his tongue between his lips anxiously. 

“i just want it to be over. i don’t wanna keep recounting what happened over and over and over again. i... it’s so hard, san. it’s so hard and i feel like i can’t do it anym-” 

your words break off as a quiet whimper leaves your mouth, crumbling against san’s body when he pulls you forward and wraps his arms around you. your head falls in the crook of his neck as his hand rests on the back of your head, breathing slowly and evenly as quiet hums leave his mouth. 

“I know, baby,” san mumbles, his lips against your head as he presses a kiss to your hair. “you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do, okay? no one can make you do anything.”

"you're hurting me, jungkook," your broken voice tells him, the cracks and pain behind it familiar to even your own ears.

you don't know how many times you've heard yourself like this. so desperate and defeated.

"i wish i didn't have to, babydoll," he says lowly, "but you never listen. you make me do this."

and you don’t even think about if you’re gonna regret it at the time. not use your own voice and speak up in front of the courtroom about what the man on trial did. 

you can only think about his eyes watching you, your friends hearing your voice quiver and shake, the judge maybe not taking your words into account. it all seems too much right now, the crushing weight of anxiety and fear that’s making you feel too weak to do that. 

“you made it this far. and it’s almost all over, okay?” san reassures, his hand stroking your hair as he tries to calm your cries. “if you wanna do it, i’ll be right there next to you. we’ll all be there for you and you’ll be safe the whole time. but if you don’t, that’s okay too. you don’t have to and everything will still be okay.”

and because it’s like the blonde just knows everything when it comes to you, everything is okay - or as okay as things can be under these circumstances. 

your lawyer didn’t bat an eye when you told her you weren’t sure if you could do a personal statement, her hand on your shoulder as she gently tells you that it’s okay. that the harshest sentence would probably still be given, considering the unusual amount of evidence in a case like this. 

you watched jungkook get taken out of court with a one year sentence, thrashing in handcuffs and cursing at you while you gripped san’s hand tightly. 

you had foolishly thought watching that was gonna somehow heal you immediately. 

no longer make you afraid or flinch at the smallest of sounds or movements, make you feel like now you can take san’s words to heart and feel worthy of the love he showered you with. 

but it was with that love, you started to grow too dependent. let it consume you in a whole new way that made you feel like without san, you couldn’t breathe. 

at first, he didn’t know what had triggered the episodes that followed three months after the trial. 

it had seemed as if you were making a lot of progress over the past few months, truly happy and smiley without an ounce of fear in your eyes that had always seemed to linger. 

you were working hard at the bakery, becoming closer with the regulars and even finding it easier to talk with them. they found you comforting and sweet, always greeting them with a warm smile and remembering how many sugars they got with their morning coffee. 

the same warm smile you gave san when he told you he was visiting his parents for his mom’s birthday one weekend, sending him off with a loaf of bread and an array of cookies. 

“don’t eat them all,” you teased lightly, side-eyeing mingi who was one of your many regulars and could also take your advice as he shovels rainbow cookies in his mouth. 

“i won’t,” san smiles gently, looking in mingi’s direction and holding back a laugh upon seeing the boy. 

he was probably the next closest person you came to trust since you all got to know each other, a soft spot for him ever since the moment he deemed sunflowers ‘sunnies’ during the darker times. 

mingi was the happiness and innocence you think you must have had once. finding the good in everything and being happy just because the sun was out and dessert was on the table. 

“and neither should you,” san chastises the younger boy, smacking him in the back of the head lightly. you smile softly at the exchange, holding back a snort as you clean off the table next to the bickering boys. 

the arm around your waist a few moments later would’ve startled you had you not smelt san’s cologne, leaning into him and feeling grateful you’re the only three in the store right now. 

you look over your shoulder and smile softly at him, heart stuttering at the look on his face. eyes full of such concern, you should know he’s about to ask you if you’re-

“are you gonna be okay tonight?” 

he wasn’t ignorant of the fact, the same way you weren’t, that this is gonna be one the first nights you’ve spent alone in months. 

not falling asleep to the gentle lull of his breathing or his arms around your waist. no one to be there if you wake up from a nightmare, where memories torment your body as you hear the shouts of your ex and feel as if your body is still being bruised.

san not being there to wake you with a gentle peck on the cheek before dragging you back to the warm bed when you try to get up for work. 

but you have to be okay, right? you’ve been doing so good these past few weeks. and you’re an adult the same way he’s an adult, it’s ridiculous to think you guys would have to spend every night together. 

“of course, silly” you poke him gently, smiling when his dimples poke out of his cheeks. “have fun with your parents. don’t worry about me.”

“i always worry about you,” he mumbles lowly, his lips ghosting over your hair as you push his chest lightly. he bites back a smile when he sees the blush on your cheeks, pulling away from him immediately so you can stick your tongue out at him. 

and that night, it actually feels as if you’re okay. 

you busy yourself by cleaning and cooking before passing out to the vampire diaries. your sleep is dreamless and calm, waking up to a good morning message from san consisting of a bare-faced, messy-haired selfie. 

but a few days after his return is when he began to notice the little changes. 

behaviors he thinks you weren’t even aware of that made his heart sink into his stomach; it reminded him so much of the first few weeks you were away from jungkook. 

how despite the fear in your eyes, you clung to him because you knew he’d never hurt you. felt safe in his presence and sought him out when you were feeling uncomfortable or upset. 

and he sees you’re back to the place right now, so obviously uneasy and upset despite the major progress you’ve been making. 

it was like the second he came through the door, you had to be by his side. leaning your head on his shoulder as you watched your shows or grabbing his hand when he got up to go to the bathroom. 

at first, he thought it was cute - your clinginess and obvious affection toward him. he thought it was sweet and it made him so happy, smiling softly and kissing the top of your head as he told you he’d be back in a minute.

but the more the weeks went on, the worse it was seeming to get. 

you asking him after only a few hours of him at school when he was gonna be back. nightmares and bad memories haunting you when you’d fall asleep for naps in between your shift ending and his last class. 

“baby... are you sure you’re okay these days?” 

the words cause you to stop stirring the pasta in the pot, craning your neck to where san is sitting on the countertop. 

he meets your gaze with a soft smile and extends his hand out to you, leaning down to press a kiss to your nose before pulling you up.

you squeal at the sensation, giggling quietly because there you two are just perched on the counter like two cats and no regard for the boiling pot of food beside you. 

you giggle again when he places a kiss to your neck, tightening his hold around your waist.

he relishes in the sound of your laugh because it also seems like these days, he’s hasn’t heard it that much. 

“i feel like i haven’t heard that in a while,” he mumbles against your neck, his lips lingering on your skin. he never wants to say the wrong thing with you or make you feel like you’re not doing good enough. 

you pull back and look at him with a small pout, your fingers toying at the end of his shirt nervously. 

“i...i’m okay though,” you tell him quietly, thinking it’s the truth even though you have felt off these days. 

you didn’t know what it was though honestly. it’s felt like ever since san came back from his parents, you’ve needed him extra. clingy and needy and annoying in the sense that the poor man can’t even go away without you needing him. 

and now he seems to know it, too. 

maybe he doesn’t wanna do this anymore. maybe he didn’t sign up for months of you going back and forth, feeling great and confident one week and then back to being clingy and scared the next. 

because you know it’s only a matter of time before two things happens: he gets sick of you and leaves or starts resenting you. doesn’t wanna waste his time with a battered woman when he could be wth fun and carefree college girls. 

“have i been annoying?” 

your blurted out question throws him off as much as it breaks his heart, immediately shaking his head as he cups your cheeks. 

his lips fall into a pout and your eyes immediately fall to them, about to comment on it before he places a sweet, short peck on yours.

you two, despite your close and intimate relationship full of skin-ship, don’t kiss a lot. you can only count of one hand how many times san has kissed you on the lips, most of the time going for your cheek or head.

but you certainly don’t mind. 

you think it’s good to take it slow, since everything else about your relationship is so intense. that’s why the times he does kiss you, you get filled with such a happy warm feeling that usually makes you feel better no matter what. 

that’s how you know you’re not right. that suddenly, for some reason, you’re not okay again despite being so incredibly lucky that the people in you life now care about you. 

they’re trying so hard to help you and it feels like you can’t repay them in any way.

“no, no, baby, not at all,” san says when he pulls back, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. “i’m just concerned.”

the lump in your throat makes it feel like you can’t breathe, biting your lip harshly as you look up at the blonde. 

“i love that you want me around,” he continues softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he looks down at you. “but i’m just...i also wanna make sure you’re okay.”

you nod your head as you take in his words, slightly calmed by them despite the way your mind is trying to tell you otherwise. 

he loves that you want him around, he just said so. and he wouldn’t put up with you if he didn’t want to, right?

“i’m okay,” you assure sweetly, leaning into his touch just a little bit more. “i guess i just missed you.”

your cheeks flush at the soft, almost touched look that crosses san’s face, his lips falling into a pout as he tightens his hold on you.

“i missed you too.”

boiling liquid splashing onto the stove causes you both to look away, a squeal leaving your mouth as the foamy water overflows the pot. 

“shit!” you squeal, jumping down from the counter to rush over and lower the heat. san watches from his spot with a small smile, chuckling lightly when you throw him a look.

“sorry,” he says sheepishly, a playful roll of your eyes causing him to jump down and hug you from behind.

he presses small kisses and laughs into the crook of your neck as you finish making the pasta, feeding him pieces from the pot to see if it’s cooked enough. 

you eat on the couch and spend the rest of the night watching tv, a relatively calm and relaxed night that makes you feel much better than the past few days. 

you think you just got so used to his presence, the comfort and warmth and light he provides by just being in your apartment and smiling at you. 

you were scared by how attached you’d grown to him, depending on him in a way you think a person who has gone through what you’ve gone through shouldn’t.

but he’s so good and makes you feel loved. it’s such a different feeling than one you’ve ever experienced, after your family and friends and ex-boyfriend let you down time and time again. 

you’ve never had someone like this before but you’ve also never tried to rebuild your life before. never had the chance to be your own person and make your own decisions - it’s something you’re still learning and that’s evident to everyone in your life. 

but the next morning, a pleasant surprise in the form of mrs. kim comes bursting through the door and immediately lights your face with a smile; apart from san and mingi, she’s another person you’ve grown extremely close and fond of. 

she’s the one who made everything possible, rebuilding your life with a new home and workplace. it’s why she always tries to push you further out of your comfort zone and into the real world with gentle prodding and much needed assurance. 

she’s at the bakery for almost two hours before she pulls up a chair behind the register and gets that look in her eye you know all too well. it’s the look she gave you the day you accepted the apartment, insisting you take it and make it your own and to not even think about how to pay her back. 

the look she gave you before the trial as she gave you strength, told you that you were strong and you were gonna get through this, with or without your personal statement. 

and apparently it’s the look she gives you when she broaches the topic of you enrolling back in school. 

“so what do you think?” she asks, tone carefree and excited like she’d been thinking about this for weeks. “is that something you’d wanna do?” 

your immediate thought is yes. yes, yes, yes shout it from the rooftops yes. you miss school and learning and all the experiences that come with getting an education. 

you once loved school and had so many aspirations but then your life apart. the prospect of an education or getting a job was dangled in your face as some sort of manipulation tactic.

that when jungkook went too far and left you especially bloody and bruised, he’d mentioned school like it was the answer to all of your problems as a couple. like that was his penance and would win him boyfriend of the year.

and mrs. kim must see the haunted look in your eye, replaying flashbacks and memories from how choices like that weren’t under your control for the longest time. 

“listen to me, stop staying in there,” she says, flicking at your head and making you wince. “is that something you wanna do? yes or no?” 

“yes but i-”

“but nothing,” the old lady says, wiping out an ipad the boys had been teaching her how to use for the past few weeks; the font is the biggest size you’ve ever seen and has a cat case on that almost makes you burst out laughing upon seeing.

“i was looking at the local school, it’s close and cheap but you could always get some financial aid, scholarships or even a loan,” she begins to tell you, eyes squinted and a wrinkle between her browns as she taps on the screen. “this shit is so hard, i’m still trying to learn. oh, great here it is, okay. look, they even have this major.”

you had mentioned once that you thought about a career in journalism to her, one night when you and her were making cookies in her house as the boys tended to her garden (because they were gardeners now, official, professional gardeners who only know how to plant sunflowers). 

tears almost immediately fill in your eyes as you follow her pruny finger, licking over your lips so you don’t start sobbing. 

she looks up at you after a few moments of silence and it’s promptly followed by her smacking your arm, a scoff leaving her mouth that makes you giggle. 

“what are you crying about?” 

the emotion clogged in your throat makes it hard to speak, attempting to talk through the strange contrast of tears and laughter bubbling in your throat. 

“i just... i can’t believe you remember i told you that. it was so long ago.”

“what? you think because i’m old i don’t remember shit? i’m not a senile, y/n, jesus.” 

a wet giggle leaves your mouth as you listen to her talk about the research she’s done, about how to pay and when you can start and her son’s experience at the local college. 

it all makes you feel very hopeful, excited even, as you think about what once seemed impossible. 

getting out in the world and pursuing a passion you as an individual had. making connections and just conversing with different people and seeing relationships form. 

but all of those doubts and fears instilled in you don’t just go away.

you remember months back when you told san you were writing again, he was the one who recommended going back to school. 

was so happy about it that his eyes were shining and dimples were out and you’d never seen someone more handsome.

but now that you guys are...kind of together, would his mind change? does he not want you talking to other people either now? will he think it’s silly or pointless, since you already have you job at the bakery? 

you know deep down that that’s not the kind of person san is. you knew from the moment you met him and risked talking and smiling and laughing with him that he was good.

but that part of you still scared and broken from what you went through, the prospect of school and freedom dangled in your face as some sort of reward or apology, is scared he won’t approve.

and whether it’s unhealthy or not, all you want is san’s approval. 

“c-can i ask you something?” you ask him later that night, both of you cuddled up on the couch.

a blanket’s thrown over your lap with san’s arm around your shoulder, your head now off his chest as you look up at him questioningly. 

he immediately looks down at you with a soft, curious expression, running his hand through your hair as a small smile makes it’s way on his face. 

“anything,” he hums lowly, already making your nervous body feel slightly more calm. 

you have to try and always remember this is the boy who’s been by your side for months, with no complaints. who saved you from your life before this and only wants you to be safe and happy. 

“i was talking to miss kim earlier today...” you begin, his interest already peeked because he thinks he might know where this is going; he was suspicious ever since the older woman asked him how to make the font larger on her ipad. 

he sees the slight apprehension and fear in your eyes so he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your skin gently and giving you a small, encouraging nod. 

you take a deep breath and try to shake the worry off, opening and closing your mouth before deciding to spit it out. 

“we...were talking about me going back to school. and i...kind of thought that would be something good for me to do. i used to love school and learning and mrs kim. said there’s a lot of things i could do to pay for it and stuff, if i needed to...” 

his chest hurts slightly watching you stammer over your words nervously, your eyes moving from him to the wall as you start to unconsciously hold his hand tighter. 

“but if you don’t want me to or think it’s a stupid idea, i won’t. i just...wanted to make sure it was okay with you.” 

you don’t see the way san sits there in contemplation as you’re too nervous and toying with the edge of the blanket, his face sympathetic but also a little surprised. 

there’s a lot of things that san is still getting used to, the way you’re so vulnerable and attached to him (in a way he doesn’t mind at all). 

but it’s like right now he’s seeing the severity of it, watching as a grown woman asks for his permission for something she absolutely doesn’t.

it makes tears burn the back of his eyes but he quickly pushes the sensation and desire away, his hand lifting your chin so you made his gaze head-on. 

“y/n...you don’t need my permission to do anything. you... you know that, right?”

your eyebrows pull together almost in confusion that he didn’t immediately respond with a yes or no, head cocked to that side as you lick over your lips nervously. 

he can’t help but think if this was a fault on his part. did he make you feel like you have to ask his permission or approval for things? did he maybe at any point make you feel scared or judged when he’s been doing his best to avoid that?

your harsh grip on his hand brings him back to the conclusion that, right now, this isn’t about him. 

whether he did that or not, he has to make sure right now that you know you’re your own person and don’t need to run decisions by him or anyone else. 

“baby, i think it’s great you wanna do that and will support whatever you wanna do. but you don’t have to ask for...my permission to do anything,” san tells you softly, his hand cupping your face as he presses a kiss to your head; the words ‘his permission’ even feel gross on his tongue.

“i’m happy if you’re happy. and if going to school will make you happy, i’m gonna be supportive 100%. you got it, love?” 

you don’t even know why you’re surprised by san’s reaction but it still brings tears to your eyes, only being able to nod before you bury your face in his chest. 

he bites back a smile at the feel of you against him, running his hand up your back to gently rest in your hair. 

“you still wanna study journalism?” he mumbles against your hair and again, you can only nod so you don’t let out the whimper threatening to leave you mouth.

because it still shocks you day after day that everyone in your life now truly seems to care. 

they remember things about you and want to see you smile, always remind you that you can do whatever you want and are slowly making you see that, maybe, you will be okay in the end. 

it may not seem like a lot to someone who’s been lucky enough to have these things but, for you, it’s something you haven’t ever had before.

the ability to giggle and smile and spend your night with someone who you can see really, truly loves you. who wouldn’t do anything to hurt you and always has your best interests in mind.

that’s exactly why when you fall asleep, san can’t help but turn to look at your sleeping form. he runs his hand through your messy hair, moving a strand from your face and feeling his heart lurch at how peaceful and innocent you look. 

he still can’t get the thoughts out of his heads from earlier, wondering if, maybe, this whole time, he hasn’t been doing the right thing. 

maybe these past few months, you should’ve been rebuilding your life on your own. he shouldn’t have been here every, single step of the way to sooth and coddle and protect you. 

it was something hongjoong said just a few weeks after you moved in and he nearly attacked the boy, asking how he could let you cry alone every night and feel lonely and scared in a new place?

but he also knows that hongjoong is more logical than him. he’s always let his emotions get to him, empathetic and caring almost to a fault. 

and with you, he was always even more clouded. 

now, though, he’s seeing that maybe hongjoong has a point. he’s seen it in the way you’ve become more clingy and dependent on him, something he loves and makes him feel warm but also knows, for you, is a part of feeling safe. 

and as hard as it is for him to admit, he knows you need to feel safe without him. slowly rebuild your own sense of self and security without him always being there to wipe your tears or kiss your face. 

but how is supposed to do that? he thinks, watching your sleeping face with a pained chest and burning eyes.

he’s about to get up to get a glass of water before he hears you whine, both his feet not even on the floor before even in your unconscious you can sense his departure. 

“going to get water, love, i’ll be right back,” he mumbles in your ear, kissing the side of your head when you still and roll back over. 

he gulps down the cool liquid before resting his head on the cold fridge, letting out a sigh as he realizes he may need to have another discussion with hongjoong.

even more so when he goes back into the room and sees your face, the slightest hint of discomfort in your pinched eyebrows and frowning lips. 

you turn back over when he crawls in the bed again, your head on his chest and arm wrapping around his stomach. 

he smiles upon hearing your sleepy voice call his name, dazed eyes staring up at him as he kisses the tip of your nose. 

“hi, baby. i’m back.” 

“i love you.”

the confession make his eyes widen and heart speed up, shocked into silence at those three, sudden words. 

because while it’s obvious that’s how you both feel for each other, your sweet touches and words exchanged since the moment you met one another, you two haven’t ever uttered that sentence. 

never put it out in the open and really discussed your feelings for one another. 

but your eyes are shut and breaths turn even before you can even hear his softly spoken, “i love you,” in return. 

and it’s because he loves you that he tells hongjoong about the thoughts he’s been having, wondering if he’s been doing the wrong thing the whole time and just making this transition harder for you. 

“i think you’re trying to make it easier because you love her and don’t wanna see her hurt anymore.” 

san’s eyes meet hongjoong’s across the dining room table at their house, a house san hasn’t slept or eaten at basically since you moved out; everyone knew where he was and they understood it completely but they also missed their friend’s presence. 

“but...she does need to learn to be on her own, san. she’s never done that before and she’s always been dependent on someone. luckily you’re just...so fucking good that it wouldn’t be a problem. but even with her asking you if she could go to school...she’s not okay, yet, san. she needs to sort her shit out.”

“i don’t want her to be alone,” the blonde admits, voice tight and eyes threatening to water. “i don’t want her to think i’m leaving her.”

“you’re not leaving her alone. you’re just not gonna be attached at the hip 24/7. it’s normal for couples to be apart. you still live and pay rent here, you know. everyone misses you.”

the sound of bickering and plates crashing promptly comes from the kitchen, mingi’s harsh yelp of wooyoung’s name causing a commotion of bickering to break out. 

hongjoong looks at san with a half pained, half amused expression, knowing that the dimpled boy  will have to readjust to how loud and chaotic the house is all the time. 

“you don’t have to do right now,” hongjoong says, wanting to finish the discussion before the boys notice san is here and lost their shit. “ease her into it. talk to her about it. see if she feels the same way. but let her know you just wanna help her, because i know you do, right?” 

san’s nod is immediate and hongjoong mirrors him, his eyes quickly widening as he looks over the blonde’s broad shoulder. 

he doesn’t even get to turn around before a slew of bodies bump into him, nearly knocking him onto the floor as six large, excited boys are jumping and squealing around him.

“san! you’re finally home!”

you’re nearly two months into your first semester of college by the time you’ve fully adjusted to your new schedule and pace of life.

classes monday, tuesday and thursdays mornings followed by your shift at the cafe during the afternoons. you miss your early morning regulars dearly and don’t know what to do with the 10+ memorized coffee orders still in your brain but you already love school so much. 

you love learning and talking with your professors and meeting the many different people on campus. you’ve even found a small group of friends, two girls who sat next to you and immediately started up a conversation with you.

you were terffied and shy at first but eventually opened up, giggling and sharing your thoughts with them before class started - you even always made sure to be 10 minutes early so you could get in your chats with them. 

unsurprisingly, san had been nothing but happy and supportive for the entire journey. helping you apply and become familiar with the campus while also assuring you everything was gonna work out. 

your days were busy and packed with work and you truly loved it but night was still your favorite. when san would walk through the door with take out or you’d be greeted with the sight of him waiting for you on the couch. 

it really felt as if your life was finally coming together, happy and at peace in a way you never felt before. it was like you finally had some sort of control over what happened to you, long gone the feeling of knots in your stomach or an uncontrollable shake in your hands. 

but when you notice san is a little more quiet than usual today, you feel that foreign feeling make it’s way back into your body. 

“is...everything okay?” you finally grow the confidence to ask, his hand absentmindley rubbing your leg that’s sprawled out on his lap. 

you can tell the question throws him off by the way he snaps his head up to look at you, brows pulled together and his head cocked cutely to the side as his eyes roam your face. 

“’course love, why do you ask?”

“i don’t know,” you hum softly, leaning the side of your head on the couch as you look at him. “i feel like you’re quiet today.”

“just thinking baby,” he tells you, tightening his hold on your leg before looking your way. “how were classes today?”

“good, i have to start my essay soon,” you tell him, something uneasy still pulling at your stomach; you’re not used to san being quiet or so lost in thought, usually the only time he’s silent is during a new episode of your shows.

“you’ll do great on it,” he says encouragingly, the hand on your leg gently calmingly rubbing your skin up and down. “you’re doing really good, you know that?” 

happiness fills you at the thought of making san proud, a small smile on your face that causes one his own to cross his face. his dimples poke out and it reminds you so much of your first meeting, when the sun reflected off of him and you just knew there was something too pure and good about this man.

“thank you,” you smile softly, a faint blush on your cheeks that has san’s heart breaking in his chest even more.

he doesn’t wanna have this conversation tonight but he thinks it would be the best time. bring up maybe not staying over every night to create some more space for you while also allowing you to be more independent. learning how to fill your time with things other than him.

but you’re so happy tonight. 

you’ve been so happy these past few months and he doesn’t wanna be the person to ruin that; it seems, though, you can see something behind his eyes and in his demeanor already, your body wiggling closer to him as your gaze shifts nervously. 

“are you sure you’re okay?” 

he lets out a sigh and you can’t help the way your stomach drops, watching carefully as his face turns contemplative and torn. like he wants to say something but isn’t sure if you’re gonna be able to handle it. 

and that alone is scaring the shit out of you. 

the silence is probably only fifteen seconds but it feels like hours, your eyes staring wide and heart starting to race as you look at him; you don’t know what you did but you had to have done something, right? he wouldn’t just act like this out of nowhere. 

“did i...do something wrong?” you ask meekly, that feeling of fear and panic you haven’t felt in almost a year creeping back. you almost forgot how debilitating this feeling is, fully consuming your body until you feel like you’re about to completely breakdown and crumble. 

the fear and concern on your face immediately makes him frown, shaking his head adamantly as he pulls you closer to him. 

“no, no, no, y/n, of course not,” he assures softly, his lips brushing against your head. 

you feel his calming breaths in your hair, like he already knows from the slight waver in your voice and look on your face that you’re getting worked up and anxious. 

the few moments of silence should make you more anxious but you can only focus on his breathing and the warmth from his body against you, trying to stay calm as you remember that this is san and he would never do or say anything to hurt you. 

“i’ve just been thinking about some things and i wanna talk to you about it,” san says, breaking the silence and immediately making your stomach flip nervously. “it’s nothing bad, baby, i just... you know i always have your best interest in mind, right?”

you swallow the lump growing in your throat as you turn to look at him, the soft look in his eye making you happy as much as it makes you sad. 

because while you love seeing it, how sweet and thoughtful and truly kind he is, you know it’s also there because he thinks you’re about to lose your shit. and you haven’t lost your shit in quite some time. 

“i-i know...” 

he takes your face in his hands when your eyes start to wander, the quiet hum leaving his mouth making you look up at him again. the look in his eyes truly stirs something in you, tears burning your eyes even though you’re not even sure why yet. 

“and you know i’ll never, ever hurt you?”

you nod again, feeling panic deep within your chest at where this conversation seems to be going.

“so what i’m about to suggest, i need you to hear me out, okay?”

he waits until you nod, his stomach sinking at the glossed over look in your eyes before he daringly opens his mouth again. 

tells you that he thinks you living on your own while you start a new chapter of your life will be a good thing for you both. that learning to be independent and on your own will help you immensely in this new part of your life. 

“you’ve been doing so good, y/n, and i’m so proud of you. you’ve started school and you work full time and you’re doing all the things you want to do. but we’re together all the time, baby, and i...i don’t know if that’s healthy, for either of us, you know?”

and you think to the average person, who hasn’t been abused and neglected and spent the last five years in normal, healthy circumstances, they would hear this and understand immediately. 

that being alone and learning how to be on your own is a good, healthy thing that everyone needs to experience. 

but all your brain can hear is he doesn’t wanna be with you anymore. 

he’s tired of your brokenness and tired of looking after you all the time and needs some space from you; and while, you suppose, you can’t blame him, it doesn’t hurt you any less. 

it doesn’t terrify you or upset you any less, even though you know his intentions are good; you can only feel unwanted and unworthy and like your time with someone so much better than you is up. 

“is it...i just...do you not like it here? with me?”

did you not keep it clean enough? did you not cook enough, were the meals too frequently takeout and leftovers? you remember jungkook hated that, demanding the house be spotless and dinner be ready and homemade. 

san would laugh at the question if this weren’t the current situation, a serious talk he’s been dreading having because he knows how you’re gonna take it at first. 

but he loves being here and that’s the problem. 

he would coddle you and love you and protect you for as long as you let him if it were up to him. but he knows that’s not what you need anymore, that you’re both not helping anyone if you continue to live your life in what became too comfortable and safe. 

you deserve comfortable and safe but you also deserve to live happily and freely by yourself. and maybe that’s not his decision to make, he often thinks, but he certainly doesn’t think he’s helping you by enabling you to depend on him. 

“baby, i love it here and i love you and i’ll never leave you until you tell me to,” san says, pressing a kiss to each cheek he prays tears don’t fall on in the next few minutes. “but i want you to be okay, love. i don’t want you to need me every night to sleep or think you need to ask my permission for things that are your choice.”

“is that- is that what this is about? that i asked you if i could go to school?” you ask meekly, the idea of talking back foreign but something you can’t control right now. “or is it because i’m in school?”

because maybe you’ve been too busy. maybe he feels like you neglected him. maybe he just wanted an out and this is it. 

“of course it’s not because you’re in school,” san says, slight outrage in his voice as you even suggest that; he always tries to control his responses to you, knowing you’re dealing with years worth of manipulative behavior and maltreatment, but sometimes it does also get to him. 

he was always supportive of your career and education, even when you were just friends and he admired you from afar.

“how could you think that?”

“because this is so random,” you squeak out, tears breaking through as the knot in your throat grows bigger. “i...i didn’t even know you were feeling this way and now you wanna stop seeing me.”

“i don’t wanna stop seeing you, y/n, when did i say that?” san asks, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you contemplatively. 

“you said you don’t want to be together all the time...” you mutter out, feeling stupid and childish but not yet truly understanding what he means. you guys don’t fight at all and you’re always smiling and laughing together - isn’t it okay to be together all the time if good things like that are happening?

“y/n, i love you, of course i wanna still see you. but i just mean...living together the way we have these past months. you’ve never been alone. you’ve always depended on someone, right?” 

you think back to your dysfunctional childhood, depending on alcoholic parents who never taught you how to fend for yourself until you fell into the arms of yet another abuser who you depended on even further.

restricted company and meals and communication, even restricted in what you could do outside the walls of your house. 

“yes,” you nod, sniffling as you wipe at a stray tear on your cheek. “but they’ve only ever hurt me. you never do.”

that fact makes san’s chest pang with hurt, his own eyes burning with tears now as he thinks about how much pain you’ve endured. 

“i know, baby, and i never will. but i think this’ll be good for us. good for you, mostly, that’s always my mian concern.” 

but you start to wonder how this could possibly be good the second the front door closes a few hours later, leaving you alone in your apartment that now feels far too cold and far too dark and far too empty. 

his lack of presence is noticable immediately and it doesn’t take long for panic and sadness and all that existential dread you once felt so deeply start to come on.

he doesn’t want you, nobody wants you, and the only people who did want you hurt you. 

it’s a mantra you repeat in your head as you cry silently, splashing your face with cold water after your puffy eyes can’t take it anymore. and when you get a good look at yourself in the mirror, tear-stained and blotchy and a big fucking mess, you can’t help but see that same girl who was trapped in that house with jungkook.

weak and afraid and horribly incapable of doing anything right. so similiar to the current state you’re in now, sinking down on the bathroom floor and crying into your hands again. 

this could be about san leaving, you know it has something to do with it, but you’re also crying because you now see just how badly you’re still effected by everything. 

you could be distracted by school and work and san but there’s still so much under the surface that you haven’t come to terms with. 

so much so to the point that even san had to step in and do something about it, him still seeing signs that you’re not okay despite how much everyone in your life is trying with you.

and it makes you feel bad that you have so many supportive, lovely people in your life but still can’t find it in you to feel okay. to not depend on one singlar blonde man to make you feel happy or act as if without him, you’re gonna break.

because you can see he’s tired of it. if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have-

“y/n?” 

his voice coupled with his fist hitting the door causes you to jump, at first thinking it’s a bittersweet trick your deluded little mind is playing on you. but then he knocks again, his sweet murmur of “y/n, please open the door,” causing you to cry out again.

hongjoong told him not to go, that he’d barely been home for an hour before he was already itching to rush back to you. 

but he felt uneasy leaving the way he did in the first place, and then even more so when you didn’t answer his three messages and two facetime calls; he hated thinking that you were crying alone or feeling upset. 

and it’s heartbreakingly evident when you reach up to open the door, curled up on the floor in tears, that that’s exactly how you feel. 

“baby, no,” san hums lowly, immediately dropping to the floor so he can gather you in his lap.

it’s so much like the scene when you ran there after the final incident with jungkook, when you collapsed on the floor and finally told somebody about what you’d been going through. 

what happened?" he asks desperately, voice strained and wavering.

but you can only shake your head and cry. cry for how long you've been dealing with this alone and how you feel trapped and how if you don't tell someone tonight.

"he's gonna kill me," you sob out as you shake your head frantically now, "i-i he's gonna kill me," is all you can repeat through ragged breaths.

san can only act on instinct, sitting down cross-legged and holding his arms out slightly before you crash into him. he shakily inhales when your head rests on his shoulder, sobs muffled by his shirt as he feels tears promptly soak through the material.

but he can only sit there, hand on the back of your head as he rocks you soothingly in his lap back and forth.

he listens to your sobs with a broken heart, tears stinging his own eyes because he had suspected something was going on for months and just sat here and did nothing. and now here you are, broken and bruised and in fear for your life.

"i can't go back there," you cry out, "i-he's gonna-"

"no one is gonna hurt you, anymore," he mumbles lowly in your ear, "i'm not gonna let that happen."

“you’re- you’re gonna leave me,” you whimper into his shirt, the only sound in your bathroom for the past few minuets your crying and his soothing hums. “you’re not gonna wanna deal with me anymore and leave and then i’ll really be alone and i’m so-”

“i’m not going anywhere. i’m not gonna let that happen,” he mumbles in your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he presses his lips to your head. he rocks you back and forth so similarly to that night, his hand running up and down your back as he tries to get you to calm down.

“we’re gonna get you help. real help. and we’ll all be here for you whenever you need us. you’re gonna be okay, my love.”

one year later:

you look back at the breakdown in your bathroom and are always surprised that you don’t feel embarrassed.

you think that was the moment when you finally realized how much you’d gone through and how much you really had to sort through. that you could distract yourself all you want and depend on san as much as you felt you needed but you still had things to work through. 

it took you about four therapist consultations to find the right one, eventually finding a sweet older woman who reminded you so much of your boss at the cafe. she listened to you and encouraged you and helped you find so much strength within yourself, you regret not taking your lawyer’s advice sooner about seeing a professional.

you still had bad days, of course, but now you’ve learned how to properly cope with them. cope with the stressors of everyday life, like the shouting of voices and the slamming of doors and san not being by your side 24/7. 

and san, little to your surprise, had done the right thing in saying you needed to learn to be independent.

it scared you at first, living alone and being alone with your thoughts and memories that tried to haunt you every chance they got. but now your life is so full of happy ones that it makes everything a little bit easier; you now love the freedom of living alone and have come to enjoy the peaceful silences of your apartment.

you now have so many things to laugh and feel happy about, like mingi and seonghwa’s obsession with gardening (even though they’ve moved on to vegetables now and have yet to combat the battle with squirrels eating their tomatoes). 

you have school and classes and friends that you made, making straight a’s while also balancing time with your study group, the boys and mrs. kim and your official boyfriend san. 

there are still some days when you wake up and feel a sinking feeling in your stomach that you think might be there forever, a certain smell or certain pain richoetting through your body that will remind you of what you went through and survived. 

but you know that you’ll be able to get through it, not only because you’re strong enough now but because you still have san to lean on - the boy in question currently with his arms wrapped tight around your waist and snoring down your neck. 

you can’t help the small smile on your face as you turn in his hold, your finger reaching out to trace the contours of his face. 

the warm, overwhelming feeling in your chest should scare you but it makes you feel even more happy and content with life, shutting your eyes immediately when his brown eyes meet yours. 

his loud chuckle fills the room before he lips attack your neck, quiet giggles leaving your mouth that only spur the blonde on more. 

“i saw that,” he mumbles playfully, smiling against your skin as your giggles get louder. “good morning, baby.” 

you pull back and smile at the boy staring down at you lovingly, the late-morning sun beaming through your window reminding you so much of the first time you saw him. 

heard his sweet, friendly voice that you immediately trusted and probably fell in love with right there.

"those are coming out really nice!" you hear a voice say from the yard next door. 

you shoot your head to the side to see a young man standing there, probably about your age, eyes kind and dimples poking out of his cheeks as he holds an overflowing white garbage bag.

your lips quirk up ever so slightly, probably being mistaken for your mouth twitching before you give him a tiny bow.

"thank you."

tag list: @mochibabycakes​ @atinyarmyx1​ @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich​ @minbinwhore​ @chrryhwa​ @chogiout​ @marksflvr​ @bunbaebae​ @markleeyeosang​ @inkigayeo​ @nlost21​ @toffee-hwa​

[shoot-the-oneshot]

DIRTY

Lee Bodecker x reader

Warnings: language and slight violence

He hated her, he hated her the second she walked into his station all chummy chummy with the mayor, who he’s been trying to get down here for a face to face for ages. Having the current mayor on his side would definitely help him when election comes back around. Lee plasters on a fake smile when the pair get to his office door, pulling his duty belt up a bit higher from where it’s fallen.

“Mayor, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He stood, shaking the older mans hand ignoring the woman all together, she was wearing one of their uniforms so he figured if she’s a new deputy she would learn who runs this show and if she didn’t well, he could show her himself one night on patrol. While he wasn’t looking forward to having a girl around a female officer on the department would look great to the voters, he silently thought.

“Bodecker, I think it’s high time we have a talk,” the mayor stated making himself way to comfortable in his office. The brief thought that he knew of his extra curricular activities ran through the sheriff’s head. But Lee knew how the real world worked if anything the mayor should be shaking his hand in appreciation for keeping this shit hole safe, the whole town should in his opinion.

“Now Lee, I know this won’t be easy to hear so I’m just gonna’ come out with it. Miss Y/L/N, is taking over your position as sheriff.”

If Lee wasn’t so appalled at the new information he would’ve seen the shock on the womens face as well. But he was to locked in on the mayor to notice. But for once he took his sister’s advice and took a deep breath, surly it wasn’t what he thought and instead the man was presenting him with the news that Lee himself was taking over as mayor and of course he couldn’t be in the role of sheriff if he were to take over. That had to be it, Lees work had finally paid off. All those late nights in the company of meaningless women would end, he’d have to find a sweet girl to fit the image of a mayors wife. That might be hard to do in this small town but he’d figure it out. He was pulled from his inner planning as the mayor rose from his seat.

“I’m sure you can find a new desk out there and clear this office out for the new sheriff in town!” The old man stated proudly patting the girl on the back, who herself had just met eyes with Lee. Now she has locked eyes with many criminal in her time but she had never seen anger quite like his in this moment. Her back involuntarily straightening had the loud bark he let out.

“What!”

“Now Lee,” the mayor started, expecting an outburst, Quickly getting cut off.

“No! Do you know what I have done for this fuckin’ town? This is an elected position, one I’ve won two times over and you’re gonna’ hand it over to some bitch!”

Lee snarled his hands coming down hard on the desk filling the small office with a sharp clap.

“As mayor I can over rule an election when the elected falls short. And you have been for a while Lee, crime rates have gone up and closed cases going down. Does that sound like a good sheriff to you?”

The only sound in the room being Lee’s huffs like an angry bull when you entered its pin. Which Y/n had felt like that’s exactly what she had unknowingly done.

“The conversation is over, leave us be deputy.”

If Lees jaw could clench any harder it’d surly break. Glaring at the girl as he roughly pushed past her, the whole station hearing the argument between the two and was watching as Lee treaded to a nearby desk barking at the watchers as he went.

“Show’s over get back to your jobs!”

“Yes sherif-deputy”

The assistants sputtering only angered Lee more. Finally the mayor left and you came out of his-your office.

“I understand what a shock the must’ve been to you all, believe it or not it was to me too.” Her eyes shot over to Lee hoping he wasn’t to angry still, he was. “Anyway I know you all have a way of doing things and I’m not here to change anything so let keep up the good police work.”

The months following were rough for the ex sheriff, he never had gotten used to being sent out to deal with house parties that got to loud and the case of Mrs.Jenkins, missing poodle. That was a deputys job not his, no matter what his new title was. And you hadn’t made his time any easier.

Miss Y/n Y/l/n, at first she had tried to make friends with him and the rest of the deputies, him being the only one resisting. After finally giving up she began what he believed was a game of ‘how angry can I make Lee today’ sendin’ him out on those joke cases, all while eating his candy he had in his old office.

And to make matters worse the entire town was practically smitten with her, her sweet looks but hard hand on the crime in the area had won their hearts the crime rate dropping ninety percent in the first three months of her arrival. He had went to the library and dug up some newspaper about her, a hotshot detective from Cincinnati who was hailed a hero there after taking down a mob family, after that arrest the department saw how valuable female officers could be and she was no longer the only one within that department and hearing her success many departments followed in suit. And then she suddenly quit after making such a big name for herself So what was she doing here in this tiny town?

—————-

Knockemstiff, West Virginia. The large welcome sign reads as you drove past the trees flying by as blurs of green, the nature will take some getting used to as you didn’t have much in the city. It reminds you of the tiny potted plant you mother got you for your office when you made detective. It was a long, hard road to get there which makes leaving that much worse. You were at the highest of your career being the only women was rough the men didn’t respect you officers and criminals alike, you had to work ten times harder to make your mark and as ironic as it was when you hit that big break that’s when it all went down hill.

And here you are starting all over again and you figured it would be harder to earn the smalls towns respect. But it would all be worth it when you caught the guy you’ve been looking for. Your old boss had made a few calls when he learned your plans to chase leads on the road and one of the calls had been to the mayor of the town when he asked you to meet him at the sheriffs office you were shocked to hear you’d be taking over. You weren’t however when Lee continued to hate you for months to come, everyone said that’s just how he is but you know it was the sting of losing his position. It didn’t take you long to find out he had been dirty it was almost embarrassing how transparent it was.

But you knew if you were going to make any headway in this town when the time came you’d need someone who knew the ins and outs like Lee did, so you kept trying to get on his good side even noticing he liked sweets and breaking out the fancy ones you had from the city, you got the message quick when he threw them away staring right at you. You had one last trick up your sleeve, back in Cincinnati you partner always said cops and criminals aren’t that different it’s just the way they think. so that’s what you’ll do.

Grabbing your hat you walked out of your office boots clacking as you walked past his desk the gold name plate shining as the sunlight breaks through the windows.

“Come on Bodecker, you’re driving” you toss the keys to the cruiser over your shoulder, you know he’s following because you can feel his glare on the back of your head. You spoke as Lee slammed his door shut the car shifting under his weight a bit.

“Low level pot growers slash dealers on the outskirts of town this is their third warning.” Lee grunts is response and started driving the ride was uncomfortable to say the least.

“I know you read up on me I’m sure you have something to say about it?” Taking the glance he shot you out of the corner of his eye as a yes you continue.

“And I’m sure it’s along the lines of why I’m here?” Cue side glance again, “well when I started looking into the Galindos they didn’t take to kindly to that, they send some guys to my parents house when their threats didn’t stop me, it was completely by chance I was at their house when they came it was a big gun fight. Killed one but the others got away and they are the only members of the mafia still out there, I got the tags off the car they used and tracked it to here.”

You’d been parked outside the farm house for the last part of your story so you stepped out the car and rounded to the drivers side leaning down to meet Lees eyes through the open window.

“I want you to know I never wanted to take your position, I also know you were dirty when you were sheriff. So let’s make a deal.”

You can see him take in the information you’ve thrown at him during the short car ride, and he subtly nods “what’s the deal?”

“I know you’re not my biggest fan, but we can help each other. So deal is if you follow me we start over and you help me find the last Galindos no matter how dirty it gets.” You paused letting it sink in. “And if you don’t want to, leave me here and drive back to the station and we will never speak again, but I also won’t hold back on arresting your old buddies and we’ll see how fast they throw you under the bus.”

His eyes which you just now noticed were blue narrow at your words. Looks like country boy knows he would go down faster than milk with cookies if they got arrested. Tipping your hat you spin on your heel and head towards the run down farm house, your lips pull up hearing the car door shut behind you as his footfalls rushing to catch up.

“Didn’t think an officer of your caliber would resort to blackmail.” He grunts, as much as he hates that you’re right he also respected you a tiny bit now, lord know what he covered up for Sandy, so he understands the familial bond that you’re doing this for.

“That wasn’t blackmail, blackmail would be leaking those pictures of you on duty with a girl in your patrol car as you unload into a Pepsi cup.”

Now that made Lee pause in his steps, how the hell did she know that, he hasn’t had a girl around since she popped in. “Yeah I’ve been in town a while.” The pair make it to the paint chipped door, the deputy still slightly stunned but jumping back into action as you kicked the door down without so much as a knock first, Well that’s not protocol. The few men in the the house jump up at the sudden intrusion but are quickly pushed back down with a swift kick to the chest from you.

You know who you’re looking for you’ll leave the rest to Lee, grabbing the boy still sat at the table by his hair and yanking him face first on the floor as he yelped, knee pressing down on his back pulling his head back by your grip on his ponytail. “I’m not here for you.” Your snarled leaning down to his ear, throwing down a baggie with the families grower logo that you found outside your family home. “Next time you see the Galindos you tell them there’s a new sheriff in town.” Barley aware of the deputy entering the room you slammed the mans face down, blood already pouring out of his nose and onto the floor, that’s gonna’ stain.

Not casting Lee a glance as you strolled past him and back to the car, him on your heels, he definitely wasn’t expecting that from you. But he’d be a liar if it didn’t turn him on a bit you know what they say, the line between hate and lust is thin. At least that’s how it goes in his head.

He takes the long way back to the station wanting extra time to think how to ask his question. “You really have pictures of me?”

You looked over when you heard his gruff voice. Oh now he want to have a conversation. “I knew I’d need help with my investigation, you willing or not.”

“And how did you know I was dirty and wouldn’t have arrested you for that show back there?”

Did he think you were stupid, there were thousands of signs you just admitted to following him did he think you didn’t see his dealings. “You’re not the first crooked cop I’ve met, you let your ego get ahead of you, you were sloppy the signs were everywhere, plus.” You couldn’t help the smirk from on. “I never gave you the dealers address.”

Lee couldn’t stop the chuckle from escaping his mouth, she was smart he’d give her that. “You know I think this is the beginning of a great partnership deputy, perhaps even friends.” You tease him smiling as he huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Don’t call me that!”

“No problem.....deputy.”

[penguinkinggames]

“Cerebos: The Crystal City” Actual Play Part III: The End

This is the third and final entry in a series of posts recounting a session of actual play from Cerebos: the Crystal City, currently crowdfunding on Kickstarter. The first two parts can be found here:

https://tumblr.penguinking.com/post/646498084013195264

https://tumblr.penguinking.com/post/646788426842128384

This session was conducted on March 20th, 2021, with Matthew Dorbin as GM, and Amelia Gorman, Ashley Flanagan, Will Mendoza, and Kevin Snow playing. The events of play were recorded by Zach Welhouse.

The First Leg of the journey has ended, and the Lady in Blue is the Seeker. She remembers her past: she was a small-time crook who left the City by the Sea to kill her murderous, thieving sister. Having pieced together her past, she has until arriving at Cerebos to decide if she still wants to kill the Lady in Red.

The Unqualified Robot, Tinderling, and the Lonesome Seafarer won’t find the answers they were looking for in Cerebos. However, they’ve ridden the rails with the Lady in Blue long enough they may have learned something else. Aiding her in her journey may clarify their own futures.

Tinderling and the Unqualified Robot hope the Lady in Blue will kill her sister. Actions have consequences and violence is sometimes necessary to restore balance. The Lonesome Seafarer has had enough pain. She hopes the Lady in Blue will be able to move on – or find common ground with the woman who did her wrong. 

Sixth Round of Train Actions

Tinderling notices an enormous marble building in the distance. From its Greek pillars and statues of Justice, it’s probably a courthouse. None of the travellers are on especially great terms with the law, but the train stops anyway. This journey isn’t just about them. There are other passengers too!   A trial is in session when the passengers arrive, and it requires four jurors. As outsiders, the travelers are unbiased. Wigged functionaries encourage them to attend the day’s arguments.   It’s the trial of Hodur, Norse god of winter and accidental murderer of Baldr. Baldr is testifying when the jury enters: “My death was absolutely necessary! My death was all part of a larger plan!” He cites Romulus & Remus, Osiris & Set, and other famous examples of fratricide. Sometimes a death is necessary for the greater good.

Tinderling’s player spends 1 Momentum to create a Danger 2 Stop as a Saintly Revelation. She doesn’t want to make the journey to Cerebos more difficult for anybody, but she does present the Lady in Blue with an argument to stay the course.

As with the previous Stop, the other travelers should have received a Train Action before arriving at the courthouse. The GM had been keeping an eye on the clock and made an executive decision to ensure the trains kept running on time. The whole session, including several snack breaks, fit into a four-hour session with only fifteen minutes of overflow!

Stop Actions: The Trial of Hodur

The Unqualified Robot has decided to Seize the Opportunity to divest itself of its past wares. It is defined by actions now, not junky gadgets. It offers gadget after gadget from its backpack to passing barristers, seeking some way to communicate. It rolls a Success and scores a giant foam finger with “FRATRICIDE” written on it. The new jury is fitting in with the trial, so the Danger reduces to 1.  

The Lonesome Seafarer waits for a lull in the trial and vaults out of the jury box to cross-examine Hodur: “Did you mean to kill Baldr?” She rolls 1 + 5 = 6, but spends a rank of Tunnel Vision to really focus on the heart of the matter and eliminate all obstacles. The rerolled 1 becomes a 5, netting the Lonesome Seafarer an Inspired Success -- and one Momentum to her authoritative hat for rolling doubles!   Hodur begins to weep under the incisive questioning: “I could never have done it if I had known! Even if I had to for a better future, I couldn’t kill my brother!” The Stop Danger is reduced to 0. Had Tinderling paid an extra Momentum while setting up the Stop, the Unqualified Robot or the Lonesome Seafarer would have received a keepsake for their efforts.  

Tinderling, disgusted by Hodur’s breakdown, starts carving something rude in the juror’s box with her bird bone sewing needle. She’s learning that she’s really into this justified violence thing. How come these people don’t understand progress is impossible without sacrifice? She rolls to Release the Touchstone – a symbol of peace – and succeeds.   The needle snaps. She burns with clarity and gains one Contemplation.  

The Lady in Blue isn’t in danger. She rests, shakes hands with a few visiting gods, and loads up on jury cookies. She removes one Momentum.

The court is in an uproar over Hodur’s outburst. The travelers aren’t interested in being further embroiled in someone else’s problems, so they sneak out back and return to the train.

Sixth Round of Train Actions (Continued)

The Lonesome Seafarer triggers a Revelation to counter Tinderling’s full-throated endorsement of fratricide. Two high-pitched voices begin shouting from the next car: “I hate you! I wish you weren’t my sister anymore!” The fight spills over into the travellers’ car as two six-year-old girls shove and cry into each other. It’s a Danger 2 Event demonstrating that just because siblings fight doesn’t mean they have to be enemies.  

The Unqualified Robot triggers its Saintly Revelation. Since leaving the courtroom, it has been busy building an effigy – a new sibling – from its unsold junk and extraneous body parts. If it can’t communicate with people, maybe something closer to its temperament will do the trick.   Calamity strikes! After a disagreement, the Robot and its twin begin to fight. Encouraged by the violence they’ve recently observed, it escalates. Presumably the twin was at fault. The Robot’s player explains, “I think the moral here is the danger siblings hold and how they must be destroyed.” The Robot Battle Event is Danger 5, threatening to strip the train to its bones. Luckily, Cerebos is in sight!

Since the Saints and Demons have introduced their Revelations, it’s time for the Endgame. Cerebos arrives! Its towering spires of crystal and neon illuminate the night. Squabbling siblings, a pair of robots engaged in an all-out hurly burly, and passengers who have begun to take sides pour from the train, attracting the attention of a number of station agents armed with stern frowns and truncheons.

Normally, the gates of Cerebos are a Danger 2 Stop, but the unresolved Events from the train boost it to a worrying Danger 4. 

Stop Actions: The Gates of Cerebos

Tinderling stands on a barrel and fans the flames of animosity, pulling unrelated passers-by into the fight: “Hey! This is what happens when you have an evil twin. Monsters are monsters and they don’t change!” She Causes Trouble to boost the Stop to Danger 6 and extend the scene. Everyone receives an extra cycle of Stop Actions.  

The Lonesome Seafarer also trusts her words to address the growing riot, arguing for peace. She draws on the harsh lessons she learned from Scurvy, her missing mate: “You have to give people a chance to change!” It’s like shouting into a storm. Fists and rocks fly as she takes Damage, her words unheeded.  

The Unqualified Robot briefly breaks free from its apocalyptic struggle with its evil twin. These… emotions are just holding it back. It tries to Release its last remaining expression slide, a smiley face defaced by angry eyebrows.   An Ugly Break. Communication is easy when it involves throwing things. It gains Momentum on its whiskey flask and gains Contemplation. It thanks Tinderling for introducing the path of rage.  

The Lady in Blue lays into the fray with elbows and right hooks, clearing people away from the Unqualified Robot. They’ve shared whiskey. Everyone just needs to stand back. She takes Damage and reduces the Danger to 4.  

Tinderling is taken aback at the chaos she has unleashed. It was all going so well, but the Unqualified Robot is taking a lot of hits. It’s burning too bright! She Seizes an Opportunity and starts laying into station police and onlookers alike. Even spending Burns at Both Ends to flare up like a hero, she takes Damage to reduce the Danger to 3.  

The Lonesome Seafarer pushes through the thinning crowd of combatants to the main event: robot vs. robot. She engages the evil twin with watertight logic and the Coat of Thesus Trait: “That robot is made out of your same parts! Why would you fight yourself? That’s not fratricide. That’s suicide!” After a string of unlucky rerolls, she ekes out a Partial Success, taking Damage while wrestling the Evil Twin off the Unqualified Robot. Danger 2.  

The Unqualified Robot scrambles back, throwing everything in reach at its evil twin: unsold junk, garbage, rocks. It’s not enough. The only way to end this is to carry its actions to their logical conclusion.   The Unqualified Robot tears off its head and flings it at the effigy.   The effigy, stunned by the extreme act of violence (and the high-velocity assault) explodes. Danger 1.  

The Lady in Blue needs a moment. Watching her travel companion tear off its head to kill its sibling is a lot. Battered passengers and station police slink off. A siren wails in the distance.   The Lady in Blue turns to the squabbling children from the train, who stayed focused on one another the whole time the battle raged around them. “Kids. Let’s talk. What happened?” she asks.   The sisters explain a very long, very important story that involves teasing and boysenberry (or possibly poisonberry) tea. It is ridiculous.   The Lady in Blue sighs long and deep. “It’s not like I’m not already headed to Hell. Try this, kids. This is what real poison tastes like.” She offers them each a sip of whiskey, transferring their animosity to her as they taste the rough, foul drink. Two-vs-one isn’t fair, but the Lady in Blue weathers their coughing and shin-kicking.   Failure. The Lady in Blue takes stress Damage and the round ends: “I solved a fight between two children and I feel terrible about it.”

Epilogue

Tinderling, the Lonesome Seafarer, and the Lady in Blue walk the backstreets of Cerebos. They don’t glisten with empyrean light like the main thoroughfares, but neither are they patrolled by gendarmes searching for whoever it was who started the brawl at the train station.

The Lady in Blue takes out her revolver, spins the cylinder, and stares down the barrel. She pops out the last bullet, sheathes her gun, and leaves her fellow travelers. She has chosen the Devil’s Path, deviating from her initial goal thanks – in a strong part – to the tragic brutality of the Unqualified Robot.

Everybody looks at their goals, laughing at the fresh round of revelations. The only thing left to do now is tally up Momentum and Contemplation to make epilogue rolls.

The Unqualified Robot died doing what it loved: throwing something. The end. No moral.  

Tinderling is a member of the Walking Wounded, unable to settle down in Cerebos, which seems just as bad for workers as the City by the Sea. Nevertheless, she’s gained a newfound appreciation for robot rights.   Before leaving for Cerebos, robots were machines, jerks, and scabs to Tinderling. But the Unqualified Robot taught her that treating robots like tools would only lead to calamity. Maybe her redemption lies in solidarity with all workers...  

The Lonesome Seafarer’s epilogue roll is similar to Tinderling’s. Scurvy isn’t in Cerebos, but she’s found moderating influences elsewhere: “That robot ripping its own head off has taught me some valuable things about myself.” She still hopes to find her missing mate someday, but it isn’t quite the obsession it once was. In the meantime, she’ll keep traveling.  

The Lady in Blue rolls a 4: Self-Actualization! She acknowledges the wrong the Lady in Red did to her, but finds peace in putting aside revenge. She’ll live her own life, not one controlled by a further descent into bloodshed.   Strolling the streets of Cerebos, she sees Tinderling passing out leaflets and the Lonesome Seafarer inspecting a ship-in-a-bottle in a shop window. She feels a fondness for the Lonesome Sea Captain, perhaps from the adventures they’ve had or perhaps because it was she who first directed the Lady in Blue to Cerebos.   “Captain,” says the Lady in Blue, taking the captain’s arm. “How do you feel about having a whiskey with me?”   “I’ve only had grog before,” the Lonesome Seafarer hazards.   “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

The Lady in Blue and the Lonesome Seafarer walk through the electric streets, arm-in-arm, in search of drinks.

[miyacchis]

Notes from a Con Man - Musical Great Pretender Stage Report Act 1

This is a bit extremely rambly, but I want to give some description of the distinguishing features of the staged version of Great Pretender as compared to the anime, although my plan is not to give a complete recap of the plot, as I’m sure anyone who is choosing to read this has watched the anime - or so I assume, but you know you do you. I try to control myself and keep it just to what is relevant, but I’m also a wordy bitch and that will never change, so, reader beware, I guess.

 The stage is set up with three levels (the stage level, the second floor, and the third floor where the band is). Both the stage level and second floor have a couple of rooms that can be pulled out or opened, and backgrounds are projected onto the set to create different settings. With the exception of the opening theme, which is taken from the anime, all of the music is live, and there’s very good interplay between the band and the performers, and I don’t know if I’d ever been to another show that felt so vibrant/alive/idk?

First, the biggest change made for the sake of clear storytelling on the stage is the addition of a framing device: the plot is conveyed to the audience through Edamura’s (Miyata Toshiya) narration as he tells his story to a prosecutor after the events of LA Connection. The play opens where LA Connection ends with Edamura being questioned at a police station, where it’s clear that he has been attempting for hours to convince detectives to believe the team-confidence-wild-and-wacky-adventures ™  explanation as to how he came to be in possession of a bag stuffed with foreign currency. Detectives are fed up with him and ready to go berniewiththesteelchair.jpeg on his ass. Enter Kitaoji (Kato Ryo), an elite prosecutor who seems to be on track to become attorney general, although it is unclear to those at the police station why he would take interest in Edamura’s case. 

Edamura is initially reluctant to open up to Kitaoji (Kato Ryo), certain that he won’t be believed, but after Kitaoji quotes from Shakunetsu (side note: I had no idea that in English Shakunetsu was turned into Die Hot which is an absolutely incredible pun and I really commend the translator), Edamura thinks Kitaoji might be just the person to believe him and help him to make amends to all those he had harmed through his life of fraud. Kitaoji encourages Edamura to start at the beginning and goes to eat a piece of candy, prompting Edamura to question, “What would you do if this simple piece of candy was sold for $5 million?” at which point he begins telling his story, transporting us first to a club in Hollywood where we are introduced to the plot with Sakura Magic and, more importantly, Laurent (Miya Rurika, goddess, dressed devastatingly in green), who is identified in quick succession as a French trader, an arrogant Don Juan, and the “bastard who got me into this mess.” 

Edamura bumbles through Laurent’s plot to build hype and clinch a deal with Cassano (Otani Ryosuke) by having Abby (Yamamoto Chihiro) “test” the “drug,” while giving small asides to Kitaoji to explain the main players and reveal to him that this is all a con job, but when Edamura is called to sign the contract to supply Cassano with the drug for $5 million, he flips out, pulls Salazar’s (Mikami Ichiro) gun, and flees the club, without the excuse of believing that he had taken drugs as he did in the anime. It is also not at this point that Edamura makes the connection between Laurent and Kudo and realizes that he’s been set up (Miyata!Edamura is overall a bit less perceptive than Kobayashi!Edamura, as we shall see, although I think this was a function of simplifying aspects of the characters’ interactions for the sake of clarity for the stage). 

Kitaoji pops in and out of the story from this point, donning different costumes (an unhoused person, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, Razzie from the Shakunetsu series, etc.) to illustrate different aspects of the main characters’ conversations, and he serves as a way to get into Edamame’s head, allowing him to express what he is thinking and feeling as events in the story play out. It is in the metanarrative that we get some of these more comedic scenes, as well as additional insight into Edamura’s character as he grapples with his own identity as a scam artist and the son of a child trafficker.

After escaping Cassano’s henchmen outside the club, Edamura rejoins Kitaoji to ask if he’s following the story so far, which of course he is not (lol), so Edamura dives into how he met Laurent and came to be in LA. From here we flashback three days, joining Edamura and Kudo (Fukumoto Shinichi) in Asakusa as they spy Laurent as a potential mark. Edamura pulls the wallet-switch trick, and this scene generally follows the anime, although parts, such as the scenes showing Edamura selling water filters and Edamura and Kudo being raided by what seems to be the police, have been cut. After realizing that Laurent pickpocketed him and saw through his grift, Edamura quickly follows and catches him as he is about to depart in a cab to the airport. Just a moment to talk about this cab because it was such a cute, clever idea; it was really just a little push car driven by one of the supporting cast, and it can be disconnected in the middle, so as the driver pulls off, the back seat can be left behind, allowing the audience to watch Laurent and Edamura’s conversation as they are taken to the airport. 

Similarly to the anime, the successive scenes are nominally delivered in English, so Edamura switches to a dialect of Japanese to represent his accented English, which I mention only because Miyata discussed Edamura’s code switching with Kobayashi (Edamura’s Japanese voice actor) in an interview in vol. 51 of Stage Square and how he was concerned that he might confuse Standard Japanese and the dialect during scenes where he has to go back and forth quickly. Kobayashi reassured him that as he got into the character of Edamura Miyata would naturally fall into dialect whenever speaking to Laurent and Abby, and I’m very biased, buuuttttt throughout the run of the show, Miyata performed this beautifully, and as someone who for several years lived in the Tohoku region, the dialect of which Edamura’s accent reminded me of, his accent made me really nostalgic. 

Anywayyyyyy

After Laurent and Edamura bet on the outcome of Laurent’s upcoming “business negotiations” and it’s agreed that they will travel to LA together, the opening theme plays, the main cast is introduced, with Edamura running up and down the set to give a sense of action, the title in massive letters is lowered onto the stage, and we rejoin the main plot with Edamura trying to elude Cassano’s gang on the streets of LA by hiding behind the title. The supporting cast gives us some great background color as like random people in LA, like we’ve got some girls with Starbucks cups, some people breakdancing while simultaneously mugging a Dodgers fan, a skateboarder shouting “STREET”...for some reason. Perfect encapsulation of America *chef’s kiss*

Laurent finds Edamura and tells him to come home because he’s a good boy (😳), and Edamura is then introduced to Abby who, just as in the anime, kicks and knocks him out, after which they collect him and take him to an upscale hotel where Cynthia/Paula Dickens (Senna Ayase) is performing as a jazz singer. Laurent greets her briefly, but we don’t properly get introduced to her character until a later, very frustrating scene, but I’m not going to get started on that yet (it’s not her that’s frustrating, but it’s how they chose to have her and Edamura meet, but anyway we’ll get there). She sings “Summertime,” and it’s a lovely performance; all of her acting choices are very clearly informed by her experience in Takarazuka - she has these really dynamic, almost over-the-top movements and she uses that to her advantage to be one of the more comedic actors - and it’s really entertaining to watch.

Laurent orders them drinks; Edamura has something pink in a little martini glass, and he splutters when he tries to take a sip because he can’t handle his alcohol, which makes Laurent laugh, giving a lot of credence to Laurent’s statement soon after that he derives a lot of pleasure out of toying with naive boys like Edamura who pretend to be tougher than they really are. There’s also some funny adlib with Abby at this point where she gets brought different plates of food like fake fruit on one day and a tower of donuts on another. Laurent explains who Cassano is and the plan to defraud him and gives Edamura a notebook with a fabricated recipe for Sakura Magic, so the notebook is not part of what Edamura prepares himself when he goes later to get himself captured by Cassano to negotiate with him. Edamura has a couple of outbursts accusing Laurent and Abby of putting on airs, pretending to be carrying out justice, repeatedly interrupting the band who give him dirty looks and Shi-won, dressed as one of the saxophonists, loudly blows the saxophone back at him, and this prompts Laurent to be like nah we’re getting too much attention here let’s continue this back at the hotel. 

The hotel scene is fairly similar to the anime, but once Edamura is left alone, we get the first instance of him thinking about his family as he reflect on what Laurent had to say about how people don’t always believe the truth that is in front of them as they would rather believe whatever is most convenient. He flashes back to his family going home together after his father finished a case (the hotel room is on the second floor with his mom and dad entering on the stage level; the younger version of Edamura is done in voice over), and of course they seem like a happy family, although it’s interesting that what his dad has to say about ethics was cut from the script. The scene focuses more on Edamura idolizing his father as a great lawyer.

Okay, so we’ve finally come to the scene I absolutely hated and did not think was necessary, after Edamura leaves the hotel room. He is approached by three unhoused persons, one of whom he at first thinks is Kitaoji coming to interrupt the narrative again, but he soon realizes that they are “real homeless.” It was really just a disgusting, cruel stereotype; one of them is playing with a rat they found, another is acting like a junkie, and the ringleader is trying to get money off of him because they haven’t eaten in three days and then they steal his little Toyotomi Hideyoshi figurine and play keepaway with it and don’t stop until Cynthia/Paula Dickens (at this point she’s Paula tho so I’m going to refer to her that way) enters and is like knock it off. So that’s how they meet. Cool. They could easily have come up with something else and they just didn’t.

But, anyway, since he got his figurine back, he explains to Paula that his hobby is collecting capsule toys, and during his explanation, a gacha machine is projected up on the stage, out of which comes Kitaoji dressed as Toyotomi, followed by a bunch of other figures from Japanese history. This part always got a pretty good laugh out of the audience, and I think it was a pretty cute way to stage it. Paula insists they go to dinner together, so she can hear more about Toyotomi, and the capsule toy figurines all follow to a diner (serving “breadfast” 24hrs lol) where Shi-won is dressed as someone named Ricardo. The figurines all start to get drunk, while “Ricardo” fixes Edamura and Paula some tacos; meanwhile Edamura explains that Toyotomi began as a simple peasant, but because of his hard work and study, he was able to climb all the way to the top and unite all of Japan as a powerful lord. 

Edamura asks why she decided to help him before and he despairs that he must seem like a beaten dog, but she explains that while she might seem confident, she faces tremendous anxiety getting on stage every day, particularly as she wants to make it big as a performer but can’t expect to get the attention of a label just because she can sing a bit. (In the background, Francis Xavier is completely sloshed and ends up drinking with Ricardo) Edamura suggests that she take inspiration from Toyotomi as someone who was able to trick even his enemies into working with him and represent herself as someone more important than she is to get music producers onto her side. She seems fired up by this proposal, and she says that she’ll follow the example of Toyotomi, “Japan’s best confidence man,” which gives Edamura his own motivation to get back to trying to win the bet with Laurent. He asks Paula to wish him good luck and runs off, and we get the first dance scene with Edamura and a number of samurai as he builds up to confronting Cassano. The scene ends with him running into a video shop, presumably to rent Cassano’s movies.

Laurent and Abby are called to Cassano’s mansion - they argue if Edamura is capable of pulling off a job like this, although Laurent insists that he has a natural talent - but they are certain that he must be dead when they hear from Salazar that Edamura was taken into their custody at the airport trying to run. However, Edamura bursts onto the scene, dressed in a new Hawaiian shirt, and at this point, Miyata looks as though he has been in a swimming pool, but it’s just sweat lmao. Cassano informs them that he’s made a new deal with Edamura for $10 million, and when they ask how, we get a flashback showing how he got onto Cassano’s good side by praising Shakunetsu with Kitaoji, as Razzie, acting out scenes from the Shakunetsu movies on the second floor of the stage. Whenever Cassano hugs Edamura in these scenes, it was really funny because his jacket would get just absolutely covered in Miyata’s sweat just ugh gross lol 

Cassano’s accountant joins them and they play out the whole bit about confirming Edamura’s credentials as a pharmaceutical scientist, at which point Edamura finally realizes that Kudo is working with Laurent, when he calls Kudo to thank him for deceiving Cassano’s attorneys. After Cassano has confirmed Edamura’s identity, he takes the crew to his factory and insists that Edamura make Sakura Magic for them right there and then so that they can be sure to properly replicate his recipe. She does this the whole play, but particularly during this scene, you can really see how well Miya Rurika portrays Laurent as always calm and and in control before Edamura but as quietly losing his shit whenever he feels like they’ve been backed into a corner, and we also get some very cute like Laurent clearly being exasperated with Edamura but the two of them starting to be able to play off one another as they convince Cassano that the factory isn’t up to snuff for making Sakura Magic. 

They have to clear out because they hear someone coming, but Cassano promises that he will build a new laboratory for Edamura and entrusts his care to Salazar. The police bust in after everyone has left; Anderson does the absolute most to show off to everyone that he’s properly securing the scene, but he’s clearly relieved that Cassano slipped through their fingers once again oh my how does this keep happening oh well better luck next time. We get a proper introduction to Paula and Shi-won as members of the FBI who have come to investigate Laurent and his organization (Paula has changed into this beautifully tailored brown tweed pantsuit and she pulls it off so well), and Paula threatens to expose Anderson’s connections to Cassano if he doesn’t follow her lead.

After the scene in the factory, we return to the present in the interrogation room with Kitaoji and Edamura. Detectives bring Kitaoji additional files on Edamura, asking if the prosecutor has heard of the attorney Ozaki. They inform him that Edamura is Ozaki’s son, and Kitaoji is a bit shocked; he leaves, saying that he will review the files. The detectives collect the money before exiting the room, but not without getting in a dig at Edamura, telling him that he clearly takes after his father. Edamura is stricken by this statement, and the act ends with Edamura battling with this internal conflict. 

I don’t think anyone would want to read all of this, but if you have, thank you so much. I hope some of it at least was interesting or informative. I’m going to end there for now, as I’ve already gone on for too long, and I’ll finish writing up the second act in another post.

[i-am-a-whimsy-boy]

Reasons why George Crabtree and Henry Higgins have ADHD

It’s my opinion that both George and Henry have ADHD, but Henry has a predominantly inattentive presentation (ADHD-PI) where George has a combined presentation, leaning slightly towards a more hyperactive-impulsive presentation.

I’m just gonna go down their list of ADHD traits here, feel free to add any if you think of more:

Inattentive Symptoms

Often fails to give close attention to details or makes careless mistakes in work/other activities. Fits Higgins to a tee. He often makes careless mistakes in his duties and overlooks small details. George does this occasionally, especially in earlier episodes.

Often has trouble holding attention on tasks and often gets distracted easily. Both Henry and George have rather short attention spans and get distracted easily.

Often does not seem to listen when spoken to directly. Both Henry and George have done this occasionally. George does it when he is absorbed in another activity or thought.

Often does not follow through on instructions and fails to finish duties in the workplace. How many times has Henry failed to follow through on instructions?

Often avoids, dislikes, or is reluctant to do tasks that require mental effort over a long period of time. Higgins in particular has trouble with this, but George has shown this before as well. Henry gripes whenever he needs to perform a tedious task like comparing finger marks. George doesn’t usually complain, but it is clear that he often finds the tasks boring or unfulfilling.

Low tolerance for boredom. Both George and Henry crave excitement. Henry tends to get frustrated about having nothing to do whereas George tends to make his own excitement.

Hyperactive/impulsive Symptoms

Often fidgets or taps hands or feet, or squirms in seat. While he doesn’t do it very often, George occasionally will tap his fingers or pens while thinking. He’s also been seen chewing on pens when he’s thinking or working.

Often leaves seat in situations when remaining seated is expected. George doesn’t seem to like to sit down very often and if he can be standing, he will be standing.

Often unable to take part in activities quietly and often talks incessantly. George fills nearly every silence he finds himself in, and he often goes off on tangents and stories when speaking to people. He also has a habit of speaking without thinking beforehand, especially when sharing half-baked theories, and this can occasionally lead to him speaking at inappropriate times. Henry also tends to speak without thinking, but his outbursts usually come in the form of insults or sarcastic remarks.

Interrupting conversations. George needs to share any idea that pops into his head the moment it happens, and he often ends up interrupting people with them.

Often makes impulsive decisions without much thought beforehand. George tends to be at his most impulsive in high stress situations, i.e. the Archibald Brooks situation, but he does have smaller moments of acting without thinking, usually in the form of touching or picking up things he shouldn’t. George and Henry have also made impulse buys in the past, specifically with the motor car they shared with Jackson that they bought on a whim.

Low frustration tolerance, mood swings and hot temper. George has a very quick temper and tends to react strongly to mild annoyances, particularly with Henry. George has a very low frustration tolerance, evidenced by his first meeting with Effie. Henry also seems to have a very low frustration tolerance and gets frustrated very easily, especially with tedious tasks that seem fruitless.

Other ADHD traits:

Trouble with relationships. People with ADHD often have trouble maintaining relationships and they tend to be very rejection sensitive. Higgins in early seasons has difficulties with maintaining relationships with women. George has trouble maintaining long-lasting relationships, but that usually isn’t his doing, but because of all of his relationships that have ended, he is very rejection sensitive; he gets upset about Florence Nightingale leaving town after knowing her for less than a week.

Hyperfixation. A hyperfixation refers to prolonged fixation on an interest for a long period of time. Neurodivergent people in general often have hyperfixations and it isn’t just limited to ADHD. George has a hyperfixation on the supernatural: werewolves, vampires, martians, etc. He thinks about the supernatural almost constantly and it’s usually the first thing that comes to mind when he’s coming up with a theory.

Creativity. People with ADHD tend to be very creative people. George is a creative writer and his thinking style tends to be divergent and very outside the box. He has a very vivid imagination.

Interest-based thinkers. People with ADHD are often able to maintain focus for long periods of time on something that catches their interest, but will have difficulties staying focused on anything that doesn’t. George appears to be very interested in solving crime and police work, which means he doesn’t have too much trouble focusing at work. Higgins, on the other hand, only seems to have an interest for the action-packed, field based parts of the job and he has difficulties maintaining focus on the more tedious, desk based tasks.

I love the idea of George and Henry having ADHD because they’ve both found ways to flourish despite their difficulties and everyone at Station House Four is really patient with them, even if they get annoyed by them occasionally. Just my thoughts, but I like the idea.

[zoinkshaggy]

stats --

name: remus russell rogers

faceclaim: ricardo hoyos

age: 21 years

pronouns: he/him

sexuality: bisexual, biromantic

birthday: february 4th

zodiac: aquarius

abilities: none

occupation: college student

traits: boyish, committed, selfish, sarcastic, caring

likes: fallout, drums, allison, pumpkin spice, picnics, smoking, sneakers, camping, swearing, taco bell

dislikes: papercuts, feeling stupid, mustard, celebrities, lavender scents, urinals, peeps, set times, baseball caps, skinny jeans

biography --

remus didn’t know stability until he was eleven years old. dropped off at the police station with no explanation the year he was supposed to start kindergarten, he bounced from foster home to foster home until he landed in the rogers’. no one wanted the angry kid. and the longer that he went on feeling unwanted, the angrier he got. he assumed shaggy and velma were just another stop along the way, already accepting of the idea he’d end up aging out of the system and he’d be in someone else’s house next year. but they were different. their kindness from the beginning never wavered. they didn’t see a stubborn, rebellious, broken preteen. they saw a sad, lonely little boy. he didn’t need to be fixed, he just needed to be loved. he fought the love at first, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never did. eventually he was able to accept that this was his family. instead of changing homes in a few months, he changed his last name. and his first, because he didn’t want to be the namesake of the man that abandoned him. trouble always found its way in, though, and just as he’d allowed himself to believe everything was okay, his new parents shipped him off... with no explanation, the way his birth parents had. he’d noticed that his father had stopped joking as much, wasn’t eating, sleeping in too late, but he still managed to convince himself it was all about him. it was his fault. his family had come to realize how much they didn’t want him, and instead of admitting it they decided to get rid of him by sending him and his sister to a school in another city. they kept in touch, but remus began to become reserved and angry all over again. it was a slippery slope. it led to alcohol addiction before he was legal, outbursts at the people that were supposed to be his friends. he was destroying everything he knew, including himself. but he reached a point where he realized he needed help. it’s been over a year now since he’s picked up a drink. therapy has helped some, but it’s the support system that made him able to get through it. now he can see with a clear head that everything isn’t always about him. shaggy had been struggling too. it wasn’t that he was a burden, it was that sometimes things aren’t okay and you have to work through them. people make mistakes and bad decisions. the world doesn’t revolve around him. his family is still his family. he’s still loved. along with his sobriety, remus has been turning to healthier coping mechanisms --- apologies to the other people who live in his apartment, he bought a drum set --- and being more open and honest. he’s in love, in a healthy relationship for the first time. life is all around better than it ever has been before. except for one little thing. the person that keeps trying to contact him and broke into his home, insisting they’re his birth mother. his birth mother, whom he recently found out died seven years ago.

connections --

*annyoance: any gender, any age. he’ll try his best to be nice to them. but this person just gets on his very last nerve. he doesn’t wish them any ill will, he just wants them to leave him alone. childhood friend: jordan bellefonte. now that the angst has died down from him practically abandoning her when they were foster siblings then pushing her away, he considers jordan one of his best friends again. family, even. dad: shaggy rogers. his dad is pretty lame, but it’s the coolest thing about him. he’s glad he’s doing better now, and he knows that he can come to him whenever he needs to. *ex girlfriend: female, close in age. before his relationship with allison, remus was definitely toxic, and there’s plenty of room for angst and regret on his end. maybe he even loved her, but they just couldn’t work. ex, kind of: perry van dort. they had a... thing. shortly after remus was adopted and realizing he might be into boys too. it’s safe to say perry was his bi awakening, but he was too afraid to make anything public, so to this day he’s his biggest secret. *foster family: any gender, any age. either fostered by their parents and it didn’t work out or someone else that was in the system and ended up in the same home at the same time. girlfriend: allison hawkins. remus has no idea how he got so lucky. from the moment he met alli, he was drawn to her. now that he they’ve been official for over a year, he still can’t wrap his mind around being able to call her his. honorary friends: mystery inc and van dort kids. his parents are loyal to the people they care about. it’s only natural he’d also care about their friend’s kids he grew up around. mom: velma rogers. remus is definitely a mama’s boy. he had a lot of distrust coming into yet another new home, but it was easy to warm up to velma. he loves her so much. probably his favorite person in the entire world. *music buddy: any gender, any age. they can come over and sing or play guitar or something while he bangs on the drums. fair warning, he isn’t that great, but he’s getting better. past drinking buddy: aya leu. the two of them partied hard when they partied. he kind of abandoned her, because he can’t be around that kind of life and stay sober. *tutor: any gender, any age. remus has never been good at school. his grades have been better lately, mostly thanks to this person taking the time to explain things how he can understand it. he’ll pay for the service. he just wants to graduate. sister: olive rogers. remus wasn’t sure he ever wanted siblings because that would draw attention away from him, but he got over that hurdle and he’s glad olive came around. she’s the best big sis he could ask for.

* open connection, this could be you !! hmu.

[echotrinityme]

Foolish Chapter 1: “Friends with Benefits”

My StickPrice fic! Rupert and Henry have a friends with benefits relationship but Henry has fallen in love with Rupert but he doesn’t feel the same way, how long will Rupert be in denial and keep hurting Henry in the process.

Rupert was putting on his clothes and fixing his hair, he turned to his bed to stare at his bed mate indifference. Henry Stickmin was still sleeping peacefully after their "activities".

They had been doing this for a while now, how they got to using each other is beyond Rupert. It all started back when Rupert was still a police officer,he arrested Henry and for some reason began to flirt with him.

Johnny, his partner at the time, started snickering at his predicament. Rupert got so annoyed at Henry he pulled over and made Johnny get out the car, Johnny was confused and he did what he was told.

A couple minutes the car started moving a bit, he furrowed his brow and he opened the driver's seat to check on them when he saw the windows fog up and two figures moving in the back.

"What are you doing!?" exclaimed Johnny, he was shocked and confused.

"Oh...Johnny you ain't supposed to see  this." said Rupert, his shirt was opened and his pants were opened.

A pair of handcuffed hands wrapped around his neck and he was pulled down, a soft moan came from the other person. Johnny noticed Henry was on the bottom and his face became scarlet with embarrassment.

"Why are you screwing him!?" shouted Johnny, Rupert was so busy fucking Henry that he almost didn't hear Johnny's question.

"I-I d-d-don't know." replied Rupert, he was thrusting deeper judging by high pitch moan coming from Henry. "I was trying to teach him a lesson but the next I know, I'm fucking a thief."

"I thought you were above that! If you wanted to get laid you should have done it later!"

"Oi! I wanna to punish him for annoying me so I just did this!"

"You're disgusting!"

Johnny shut the door in frustration and he leaned against the car, the car was still moving. He also felt something tight in his pants, he looked down and saw he was hard. He cursed and checked the area they were in to make sure no one was driving by, he put his hand down his pants to take care of his needs.

Moments later, Rupert came out with his uniform wrinkled, hair messy, his face red but content, and tucking himself back. He turned to look for Johnny when he saw him on the dirt just sitting with him staring out at space,he shook him to get his attention and he did. Johnny stared up at him with an unamused expression and he motioned his head towards the car.

Rupert blushed and he quickly went to the driver's seat, he buckled his seat belt and started up the car. He waited for Johnny to get in which he did, he buckled himself in and off they went to jail. Johnny glanced at the backseat to find Henry asleep, he had all his clothes except for his shoes.

"You got a bunch of hickies on your face, mate." said Johnny, pointing to Rupert's neck.

"Aw shit! I have to cover them before I get into the police station." said Rupert, hastily. "I don't wan' them to see and laugh about them, especially Dave."

"Why Dave especially?" asked Johnny.

"Cause...it's none of yer business!" bellowed Rupert, he was getting defensive.

Johnny was surprised at his outburst but before he can ask what's the problem, they have arrived at the police station. Johnny went to go wake up Henry but he was already awake and content, considering he was fucked by a police officer. He also had hickies on his neck, how he's going to cover them?

"Hey Rupert, we need to cover Henry's neck too." said Johnny.

"Yeah, let me find some concealer." replied Rupert, he searched the gloved apartment for the concealer.

While they were both distracted, Henry sneakily grabbed the keys from Johnny's belt and somehow got the handcuffs unlocked. He quickly ran off as fast as he could which was a challenge for a bit cause he was sore from the sex.

Rupert finally found the concealer and gave to Johnny to put some on Henry first, he went to the back but saw he was gone.

"He escaped!" exclaimed Johnny, he searched around for him.

"What? God damn it." cursed Rupert,he was going to get in trouble for this.

"What are you going to tell the chief? You're not gonna tell her you fucked him and he escaped?" mocked Johnny.

"No! I...just...maybe...I don't know!" growled Rupert, he was screwed.

Henry stopped being active for a while now, Rupert didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. He quit the police force and joined the army right after, he thought he could do more good in the army than the police force.

He didn't even thought about Henry until they recruited him to take down the Toppat Clan, they needed him to gather evidence and he'll get a pardon if he does the job.

He did and got the pardon, he joined the Government soon right after which suprised him. However he and Henry didn't interact that much cause of what happened between them the last time, Henry wouldn't even look him in the eye.

Before Rupert could confront him about what happened that day, he disappeared. No one knew where he was, not even Charles, his partner. Rupert thought he went back to his criminal ways but Charles apparently saved him and another person named Ellie Rose, he and her escaped from a prison called the Wall.

She also joined the Government and they all became the Triple Threat, which kinda sounds cheesy to Rupert. Once again, Rupert tried to talk to Henry about what happened that day but he keeps on avoiding him. "What's his problem?" thought Rupert as he was walking to his tent to turn in for the night.

Rupert was trying to searched for Henry when he spotted him alone, just leaning against one of the storages. He looked a little sad, Rupert stalked over to him and Henry didn't noticed his arrival. He cleared his throat and it made Henry jumped, he stared at him in fear which surprised Rupert.

"Okay Henry, we need to talk." said Rupert, firmly.

"About what? " signed Henry, he was looking down as if the ground was more interesting.

"You know what."

"Oh right."

"Let's head inside this storage to talk for privacy." said Rupert, he gestured to the storage that Henry was leaning on.

Henry nodded and he followed him into the storage, Rupert closed the door and found Henry sitting on one the crates. Rupert slowly walked up to him and he folded his arms, he stared at Henry with curiosity.

"Why do you keep avoiding me?" demanded Rupert.

"Cause I feel guilty." said Henry.

"About what? The stealing or the sex?"

"Both."

Rupert scoffed at him and he started to get angry at him.

"Why? You avoided me ever since you joined us and you feel guilty?"

Henry got up to leave but Rupert grabbed his arm to stopped him, Henry reacted badly and tried to stop him. It resulted in a few punches and Henry's back against the wall and Rupert holding his hands above his head, Henry had managed to get one his hands free and accidentally rip Rupert's uniform top.

They both stopped for a moment and stared at each other, then they both kissed each other.

"I do-"

"Shut up, take off your shirt." demanded Henry, breathlessly. He was finally using his voice which shocked Rupert, he never heard his voice until now cause Henry always uses ASL because of his selective mutism.

Rupert picked up Henry and set him down the floor while he was taking his shirt off, Henry took off his shoes and pants leaving only his black shirt. Rupert unbutton his pants and his used his spit as lube, he added wet fingers and a few moments later he added his cock into him.

They both moaned and kissed each other, lucky the storage was soundproof or else everybody would have heard them. Charles and Ellie were looking for Henry but couldn't find him, and that's how they started sleeping together.

Rupert sighed heavily and he took out a paper, he wrote something and set it on the table beside him, he left and went to do his duties.

[finaldreams1106]

Buried Alive Part 4

Okay, I'm having too much fun for this now, too many ideas for where it will go. I will probably start naming more characters in the upcoming parts. :D

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Pat was panicking. She had no idea how to deal with the situation. She had thought Jay was just messing with her at first, trying to trick her so he could catch up. She hadn’t expected to hear someone to shout for help. So, she did the sensible thing. She grabbed her brother and ran for home.

Of course, none of the adults believed her. Someone buried an hour’s walk into the woods? Don’t be ridiculous. They had told her she was too old to be making up stories, told her not to mess with her brother, even though said brother had heard it first.

So, Pat did the sensible thing again. She took her parent’s shovel and started back to the circle of recently dug dirt her brother had found. Her sister Sandy caught her, and even though Sandy was older, she was not larger. After failing to take the shovel from Pat, Sandy resorted to following her and threatening Pat with how much trouble she was going to be in all the way there.

When the pair had almost made it to the voice Pat tripped and dropped the shovel, where Sandy quickly snatched it.

“Give it back.” Pat said, glaring at her sister who was poised and ready to run back home with her prize.

“You know you aren’t supposed to take the tools out into the woods, pretty sure you also aren’t supposed to go digging in the woods for that matter,” Sandy answered, glaring right back, “making up stories doesn’t change that.”

“I’m not making this up, look I’ll do all the chores all summer if I’m lying, okay! Please, it’s right up here.” Pat said, pointing towards the small clearing just off the dirt road they had been following.

“So, you heard someone shouting for help from under the ground?” Sandy rolled her eyes, twirling the shovel as she followed Pat the last few feet.

Pat gave in to her sister’s taunting, “Yes!” she shouted, “See! There’s a tube thing!”

“Help Me!” a tiny voice rose from the loose dirt, silencing whatever Sandy had been about to say.

“Mother fucker” Sandy said, then raced the last couple of steps to stand on the loose dirt and plunged the shovel into the soil.

Pat wished she had brought two shovels now but started digging the dirt away with her bare hands. She would take over the shovel when Sandy got tired.

After a couple hours of switching the shovel between them Sandy screamed and threw the shovel out of the hole. Pat jumped and ran over to see what had happened. They could just barely see skin in the dirt, then nothing as blood covered it.

“What happened?” Pat asked, staring at the dark liquid.

“I, I, I hit the leg.” Sandy whispered, kneeling and digging out dirt by hand. “Help me, we need to see how bad it is.”

Pat jumped down and followed suit, clearing the last of the loose dirt away from the mud smeared legs. She couldn’t tell how bad the leg was hurt, but Sandy was older, almost 17, she would know, right? Pat bit her lip and shoved more loose dirt out of the hole as it trickled down around them.

“We need to get help, adults,” Sandy said, poking at the leg. It was limp, unresponsive.

Pat poked the other one and nodded, she didn’t think about the voice that hadn’t said anything more, or about the legs that should be moving on their own.

The pair jogged back home; their legs as tired as their arms as they raced to the police station.

*~*~*

“Sandy, I thought you knew better than to do this sort of thing?” the policeman asked, smiling gently at the pair. But his eyes were hard, and Pat could see he didn’t believe them. He hadn’t believed her several hours ago.

“Officer, I do know better. And I’m telling you someone is buried out there.” Sandy jutted her chin out, staring at the adult. “Will you take responsibility when they die because you didn’t believe me?”

“Are they alive?” The officer asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sandy glanced at Pat and looked away again as soon as she saw Pat staring back. “I hope so,” she said.

Pat chewed her lip and looked at the ground, she had heard the voice. Of course they were still alive.

“Fine. Let me call up some officers and we’ll head out. It’s getting dark but I bet the newbie will come at least.”

“Then get some flashlights, it can’t wait for morning.” Sandy slapped her hand on the desk as she said it, then immediately looked embarrassed and let her hands fall in her lap instead.

The officer looked surprised at her outburst, then shrugged and left.

*~*~*

It took over an hour for the officers to gather shovels and flashlights. Sandy realized as she saw them that she had left her parent’s shovel back at the hole. It didn’t matter, she would tag along and grab it once she was there.

The officers and a paramedic loaded into an old truck and started up the old dirt road, at least Sandy didn’t need to convince them to go hiking somewhere. Much faster to just drive up a road.

As the group trundled out of town and started to pick up speed Sandy saw a lump by the side of the road. White, but covered in dirt.

“Wait!” she shouted, causing the driver to curse and slam their foot on the breaks.

“WHAT?” they shouted back, clearly unhappy with the whole situation.

Sandy pointed at the lump, finger trembling as she focused on it. “Is that a person?”

The truck went silent as everyone else tried to stare, then it broke into a flurry of activity and obscenities as everyone threw themselves out of the cab or the back and raced over to the collapsed figure.

Sandy stayed in the back of the truck, standing over the adults so she could see what was happening. It looked like someone in a straitjacket, their hair cropped so closely it was almost non-existent. Blood was smeared all over their face, and one leg, she realized guiltily. They looked so pale in the harsh brightness of the mobile light tower that the officers had somehow managed to already set up.

“Don’t let them out of that jacket,” an officer warned as the paramedic finished cleaning the visible wounds and started reaching for the figure’s chest. Sandy didn’t recognize them, which probably meant they were the new transfer from some city.

“What? But I need to check for injuries.” they protested, hands hovering over the buckles.

“It’s one of them fancy jackets, set up for Villains,” the cop continued pointing at silver lining that ran throughout the whole thing, “we don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

The Paramedic hesitated a moment more, then nodded, “we need to get them to a hospital, who knows what contaminants got into their bloodstream with so many open wounds.”

The Paramedic, new officer, and a couple of others heaved the body into the bed of the truck. Only then realizing that Sandy was still back there.

“I’ll ride with them,” the new officer said as the Paramedic clambered into the truck, waving off the other’s concerns, “as long as whoever this person stays in the jacket, we’re safe.”

The truck then did a three-point turn and raced to the local hospital, a tiny building more doctor’s clinic than anything.

Sandy watched as the officer’s rushed the body inside, the door swinging shut behind them.

She felt exhausted, after spending all day digging and worrying about this person who may or may not be dead, she hadn’t even considered the possibility that they were a Villain. She wondered how bad she should feel about the ankle wound.

[anotheronechicagobog]

Bulletproofness and Playing God Jay Halstead x reader

written by: @anotheronechicagobog​

requested by @confusedpimp​, I hope you like it!

warnings: swearing, addiction, Hannah Asher is NOT porprayed well in this you have been warned, malpractice, emergency c-section complications, involves Chicago Med episode ‘Do No Harm’, police being idiots and assholes, warrants served incorrectly, drugs, drug dealers, bad neighbourhood created by systematic oppression and gentrification, Will is a prick with issues, and canon compliant violence

A/N: I am very sympathetic and supportive of people who have addictions because not only are there a tone of genetic factors that weigh in on it, but environmental factors that most people have very little to no control over. That being said, I am strongly against people with addictions working in healthcare, first responding, and/or law enforcement who spend most of their time with vulnerable people who don’t have much of a choice about whether to trust them or not. If someone works in an area where they have someone’s life in their hands they cannot be addicted to a substance that will control their ability to make judgements, affect how/their ability to work, and function as a whole.

In the past eight months, a warrant has been served to your apartment twenty-one times. You haven’t done anything wrong, the name on the warrants was always for your upstairs neighbour, did this make being woken up and the fucking crack of dawn and being interrogated (sometimes arrested) any easier? Not even a fucking bit. So you weren’t surprised when at 3:28 am, your door was busted open (again), heard shouts of “Chicago PD!” (again), and heard your house being “cleared” (again). You groaned and sat up, holding your hands up. Your bedroom door was thrown open with a bang. “I am unarmed, Marcus Evans lives in the apartment upstairs, and I have no association to him.” In the blandest voice possible, you recited the statement the legal aid at your university wrote you. “Uh... Sorry? Hey, Sarg, I think I’ve figured out why there were so many unsuccessful warrants on this place.” The blonde man was still pointing a gun at your head, but more members of his unit came to surround him.   

“Can I put my hands down now? I have documents that prove I am innocent, that the warrant was served to the wrong address, again, and that the only connection I have to Marcus Evans is that he is my annoying upstairs neighbour.”

They all sheepishly looked at you. The Latina woman spoke up, “the apartment is clear of anything even remotely illegal. Well, aside from the power lines attached to her box outside that show that her neighbours have been stealing power and internet from her.”

‘Sarg’, an older man with silver hair with a surprised look on his face nodded. “Alright, put ‘em down and get us the papers.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Despite all the evidence that the warrant wasn’t meant for you, they still insisted on taking you down to the station. You refused since they couldn’t arrest you and had no grounds to hold you on, and Sergeant Voight did not like that. “I’m too tired to give a shit about what you want. I have three jobs, student loans, and university to deal with. The only things of value in my apartment are my crappy laptop and internet access. The only time I am ever here is to sleep. You already disturbed what little sleep I was able to get, and I have work in... Forty-five minutes. Just great. Please leave, and can one of you, for the love of all things holy put a note in the system that this is NOT Marcus Evans’ apartment?!” Everyone flinched at your outburst, all looking both sympathetic and annoyed except for Detective Halstead, he just looked very sad for you. “Of course,” he said as he handed you a business card, “if you could call me when you have time, we have some pretty important questions.” Sargent Voight shot him a look, one that clearly said ‘what the fuck are you doing? That’s not your call.’ “Okay. Now seriously, please leave.” Irritated and muttering under their breath, barring Halstead who gave you a smirk and a wink, they all left stepping over the splinters of the door you replaced three weeks before.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day after entering your sparsely decorated apartment, dropping dead on your bed/couch, you heard the distinctive sounds of a door being broken down, followed by the police announcing themselves, and an apartment being searched... Above yours. They finally got the right apartment! Despite the ache in your muscles and bones, you jumped up and cheered. Complete and utter elation surrounded you and your soul. A few minutes into your dancing and celebrating there was a knock on the door. Smiling brighter than you had in years you answered the door. “Good morning detective!”

“Well, good morning to you too, Ms. Y/L/N. You’re in a much better mood.”

“To be fair, you guys busted into my apartment at three in the morning, again, and I just heard everything that happened upstairs, you guys finally got the right apartment!”

“Hey, we never served more than one warrant here.”

“Your unit only served one, but your brothers in blue served twenty-one. Destroying property, unlawful arrest, causing severe anxiety, and just general harassment for eight months. The only reason I didn’t move was because I couldn’t afford to. I’m just happy it’s over now, I’ll never have a  Marcus Evans warrant served at my apartment again!” Halstead looked happy when you opened the door and your conversation began, but when you finally took a breath you noticed how guilty he looked. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, looking like he was in physical pain, before he nodded at you and walked away, leaving you feeling incredibly confused.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two days later you returned from two ten-hour shifts to Jay Halstead in front of your door. “Detective?”

“Please, call me Jay.”

“Alright, Jay, what are you doing here? Is everything okay with Marcus’s arrest?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine with that. I came here because of this.” He handed you a large manilla envelope. “What’s this?”

“Compensation. For everything that happened over the last eight months. And apartment listings in better neighbourhoods. Seriously, you need to get out of here, it’s way too dangerous.”

“Thanks for the advice, and the compensation, I’ll think about it. But it just might not be doable for me.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You couldn’t afford to move, something that irked Jay to no end. So he came around often. Dropping by with coffee and Irish breakfasts. Sharing his Netflix password and watching B99 together. Driving you home from work or university when it was late. The days grew shorter, and your hours of work grew longer. Jay worried. About you. About the number of hours you worked. About how much university work you had. About your health, how much (or little, really) you slept and ate, how you didn’t see the doctor as often you should (ironic considering you were in med school), and about how you never took time to relax, always jumping from one task to the next. 

You slumped against the passenger seat of Jay’s truck, exhausted after working for thirty hours straight, ten at each of your jobs. “Okay, seriously, you can’t keep living like this. I have a spare room, I can get you a civilian job at my precinct. You are wearing yourself to the bone. Please, Y/N.”

“I get my residency assignment tomorrow. I quit today.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

“All three.”

“And you’ll move out of your apartment?”

“Nope.” Popping the ‘p’. Jay sighed and shook his head, before looking at your half-asleep form. “I’ll take you to the shithole you call a home.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TWO YEARS LATER

Jumping up and down you waited for Jay to open the door. The envelopes sitting on his coffee table glaring at you. You flopped onto his couch (that didn’t also double as a bed) and huffed impatiently. Fidgeting.

The door opened and you jumped up, startling your best friend. His cop/ranger instincts taking over. He stiffly dropped his jacket and yanked out his gun before aiming it for your head. Panic coursed through you, tightening your chest. Reflexively you put up your hands, not able to control the words that bubbled out of your throat. “I’m bulletproof... But please don’t shoot me.” Jay lowered his gun, laughing. “‘Bulletproof’? Really?”

“Hey, I panicked, shut up.”

“What’re you doing here, anyway? I thought you were taking another shift?”

“I was, but then Sarah’s plans fell through so she decided to take her shift back, plus I got my fellowship applications back!”

“Where did you get accepted?!”

“I don’t know I was waiting for you to get back to open them!”

“Well I’m here now, so open them!” 

“Okay, okay, here we go; Honolulu general, accepted, Seattle Grace, no, but they had a bomb blow up there recently so I’m not heartbroken, Chicago med, yes, and Miami Dade Memorial, yes. Okay 3/4, that’s great! What do you think?”

“Well I’m biased, so Chicago Med, but it would be fun to visit you in Hawaii.” 

“Hawaii is so expensive though, I’d probably have to have a part-time job to make rent.”

“In a decent apartment this time.”

“Two part-time jobs, then. So Hawaii is out, now Miami... It is hot there, beaches, the ocean, the food, but Miami Dade Memorial isn’t very prominent in the research department and the crime rate is awful in the part I’d need to live and work in. I mean I know isn’t a whole lot better but... It would feel a bit like moving from bad to worse, especially on my budget.”

“So that leaves Chicago...”

“It does, but I think I need to find a new place that’s closer to Med and filled with less dug dealers.”

“Please tell me this was a subtle way of asking if you can move in with me.”

“It wasn’t, but now that you bring it up, would that be okay?”

“YES! Oh thank fuck, you’re finally moving out of that rat’s nest! C’mon, let’s go get your stuff now!”

“But Jay I just paid this month’s rent-“

“Let’s gooooooooooo!”

——————————————————————————————————-

FOUR MONTHS LATER

Because your apartment was in such a “great location” (in the same building as three drug dealers) your landlord was willing to give half of your rent back. It had only taken you twenty-something minutes to pack your things and leave. Now you were starting your surgical OB/GYN fellowship, excited to not be working multiple jobs at once for the first time since you were twelve. While Jay’s brother, Will, worked at Med as well he worked in the ED while you worked in the gynecology unit and you were thankful you only had to work together for consults or in an all hands on deck situation because he could be a fucking prick. When you first met him years ago he spent two hours quizzing your medical knowledge, and he got annoyed when you got everything right and he couldn’t correct you. So when you got a consult from him your first week there, you were apprehensive. “Hey Y/N, treatment room four.”

“Thanks, Maggie.” You pushed back the curtain and were met with the sight of a pregnant woman clearly in immense pain and a frustrating ginger. “Dr. Asher is her OB but we can’t find her anywhere. She was on-call but I, and a couple of nurses, and her secretary have been blowing up her phone and we’ve got nothing back. This is her patient Sienna. She’s in a lot of pain but is refusing painkillers, you’ve been working with her a lot lately-“ You snorted. His facial expression hardened. “Just come out and say it Y/L/N.”

“First of all it’s doctor Y/L/N, second of all, I haven’t been ‘working’ with her, I’ve been taking care of ‘her’ patients because she’s almost never at work. She just cancels the appointments short notice and since these women are kind of on a timeline their appointments get reassigned to other doctors. She’s listed as their doctor on all the forms but she’s never even met half of them. Sienna is the only patient that Dr. Asher has seen more than once.” 

“Don’t talk about her like that, you don’t know-“

“That she’s an addict? The entire OB floor knows we just don’t have enough proof to do anything about it. And don’t get me wrong, I know that there’s a lot of genetic components to addiction and I would be sympathetic if she wasn’t responsible for multiple lives at a time on a daily basis.” You turned on your heel and entered the room, done with Will Halstead and his bullshit. “Hi Sienna, my name is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, and I’ll be filling in for Dr. Asher, I understand that you don’t want any drugs and while that’s fine, if your condition gets bad enough we may have to intervene but we’ll do everything we can for you and your baby, okay?”

“Where’s Dr. Asher? I need her here, she understands!”

“Okay, we’re still trying to find her okay?”

—————————————————————————————————

“So I heard that you and my brother locked horns today.”

“Your brother is a prick.”

“I know that he is, I’m just wondering what happened this time.”

“He’s doing this weird ethical-puppy love-guilt trippy-Romeo and Juliet level of doomed-unnecessary drama-thing going on and it’s completely affecting how he treats his patients. We already had one loose cannon we couldn’t disarm, now we have another. It’s come to the point that I’m genuinely worried about the patients that come into Med, and I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sorry, I wish there was something I could do.”

“Just try not to antagonize Will, okay? He’s more on edge and that makes him erratic, I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t make it worse.”

“Okay. I’ll leave him alone.”

“Thank you. I’m starving, what should we do for dinner?”

“Vietnamese is on the way.”

“Have I told you how amazing you are today?”

“Yes, but I would love to hear it again.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Asher’s medical negligence had finally caught up with her, and for once Will wasn’t even remotely involved. He and Asher were having one of their silent spats again when Asher dropped the ball, or baby rather, during an emergency c-section of a patient she misdiagnosed and mistreated because she was in need of a fix. The only reason the mother didn’t hemorrhage and baby didn’t crack his skull was because of your observations and quick reflexes. The baby was healthy and mom was recovering and you were fuming. After scrubbing out you approached the, understandably distressed, father and told him that on your best medical opinion he and his wife should file a malpractice suit for missing an easy and obvious diagnosis, screwing up a routine surgery, and almost killing his son seconds after he was born.

You met with him, his lawyer and Asher two days later in a conference room with Goodwin and Peter the Stressed Out Lawyer. You accused her of having an addiction. The father requested a drug test. Goodwin glared, you glared back. If she didn’t want it handled like this then she should have dealt with it months ago when you brought it up your second week at Med. She tried to approach you in the hall, condescension on the tip of her tongue when you levelled her with a glare so fierce it rivalled that of Godzilla. “You do not get to scold me like I am a child. I told you when I first got here that she has a problem. That she is a danger to everyone who comes into her care. That she is a danger to other doctors. That she is a liability. Do not bitch to me when I told a husband and father who almost his wife and son to her recklessness to sue. To get angry and fight back. Do not take that petty, catty, condescending tone with me because I went around you. You have absolutely no ground to stand on. Because. You. Were. Wrong.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were surprised you had a job to come back to the next day. So was a very pissed off and ‘heartbroken’ Will Halstead. He kept running around to your colleagues, badmouthing you, trying to get them to join in and turn on you, but that didn’t happen. They not only agreed with you but rallied around you. Doctors are not gods. They do not get to ignore a patient’s wishes or act like they don’t have restrictions and limitations. It came to the point that Will told Jay he didn’t approve of you and that he had to dump you... Despite the fact that you weren’t dating.

Jay had rolled his eyes and pushed Will out of the apartment before giving you a hug and made you pancakes for dinner. “I’m sorry that I messed up your relationship with Will.”

“Don’t be. We’re brothers, we fight from time to time, and sometimes those fights are bigger than others and that’s okay. Will, well Halsteads in general, are pretty good at torpedoing any and all romantic relationships.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“My parents only got married cause my mom got knocked up and fought non-stop, Will was and still is in love with Natalie but he was too controlling, secretive, and refused to tell her about Burke, and me... Lindsay and I were on a break before we left because my Vegas wife refused to divorce me and I didn’t tell her I had even been to Vegas.”

“Okay, so maybe it’s a little true, but it’s not because you’re bad people or  Even just saying ‘yes there’s something going on but I don’t feel ready to talk about it with you’ would go a long way. Cause all you Halstead guys say is that you’re fine but you never are and if you lie to yourself you lie to your partner.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. And tell Will when his head is surgically removed from Asher’s ass. You’ve seen that he follows her around like a puppy, right?”

“Yup, everyone on the OB floor has been talking about it nonstop since he started his whatever it was with Asher.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

Because of the suit, the hospital conducted an internal investigation in relation to Dr. Asher that pretty much everyone could confirm. Erratic behaviour and attendance, leaving other doctors to tend to her patients while keeping her name on the case files, and horrifying evidence of being high while working. Granted that had only happened twice and she literally just sat in her office staring at paperwork the whole time. Still, she was fired, the suit was settled, and Asher lost her license. You had destroyed her career and while there was a part of you that felt guilty, you knew that in the end she did the right thing. She refused help and kept carrying on in a way that would have been detrimental to more patients if other doctors hadn’t stepped in. Will still wasn’t talking to you and had started avoiding Jay recently because you two started dating.

Barring the tension from all the Will stuff, your relationship was doing well. You had great dates (both out and at the apartment), were radiating happiness together, and Jay was taking your words about communication to heart. Not once has the phrase ‘I’m fine’ dripped off of his lips. If he didn’t want to tell you something or was more comfortable talking about it with his therapist or Upton before you he’d let you know. Most times he would just talk about what was bothering him, even if it was only bullet points sometimes you both felt relieved that functional relationships were actually possible. 

You were on a date with Jay at your favourite Jamaican restaurant when you ran into Hannah Asher. She did not look pleased to see you and quite honestly you could have lived the rest of your life happily if you never had to see her again. After a few seconds of glaring at you and your boyfriend, an annoying ginger put his arm around her. “Hi Will. How are you?”

“My girlfriend and I are doing well Jacob.”

“Really Will? You’re using my whole name because my-”

“Okay, you know what? Let’s go our separate ways. It looked like you guys were just leaving, and we’re probably confusing our poor hostess. So let’s both just walk away.”

“You ruined my life.”

“Asher-”

“You took everything from me!”

“Do you have any idea how many patients you almost killed in your time at Med? Because I do, and it’s a triple-digit number. You shouldn’t have been practicing in your condition and you know it. So you need to drop the victim act and walk away.” You saw her face contort into complete and utter rage, then everything is hazy. There were lights, bright red ones, and screaming, you were pretty sure Jay was there, and there was... Copper? Why did your mouth feel like it was full of liquid pennies? There was gurgling, was there a baby? Were they okay? You tried to speak, get up, look around, but you were too tired. You were begging yourself to move, to do something, but it felt like your bones turned into melting iron.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You didn’t remember waking up, or falling asleep for that matter, you were just looking at the glass door and suddenly it came into focus. You didn’t even know how you got to the ED, what happened at the restaurant. Dr. Choi entered your room apprehensively. “Y/L/N? How are you feeling?”

“Like I was mauled by a tiger.”

“That’s... Actually pretty close to what happened, honey.”

“Jay?”

“Hey, I’m right here. So, what’s the prognosis Choi?”

“Multiple contusions on the right side of the abdomen, lower back and around your neck, multiple lacerations all over your abdomen, forearms, and two on your head. Your liver was also perforated, we couldn’t stop the bleeding so we had to remove half of it, which you know means it’ll take a couple of months to grow back and you won’t be able to drink for around a year. We’re going to need to monitor you and run some tests, so you’re gonna be here for a few days.”

“Well I should hope so. What? Why are you two looking at me like I have eight heads? I could’ve died.”

“... You actually want to stay in the hospital and be cared for by your colleagues?”

“I trust you, besides I’ll only make things worse if I check myself out AMA, doesn’t matter how good of a doctor I am. It’ll be hard and I’m not going to enjoy it, but I have to stay here and get treated regardless so I might as well be as positive as I can about it.”

“You are officially my favourite patient.”

“And I love you even more.”

“Thanks guys, I appreciate it.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What happened Jay? I don’t remember anything after telling her to walk away.”

“She went berserk. Attacked you. I tried to pull her off but Will lost his mind, telling me not to hurt her. I managed to toss him after a couple of seconds but I was too late. She’d already slashed you up and stabbed you twice. I grabbed her but she managed to get a bunch of kicks in while I was hauling her away from you all while screaming that she was going to kill you. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you. She’s sitting in a cell at the 21st right now with Platt breathing down her neck. We also did a drug test on her, she was high as all hell.”

“Please don’t feel bad Jay, I know that you reacted as fast and did as much as you could. And I know that Will did what he could to stop you. How is Will by the way?”

“He’s in the cell next to hers. He assaulted a police officer and was an accomplice in assault. Voight’s been asking if I want to drop the charges against him because he’s my brother. And I just don’t know, I wanted to talk to you first.”

“I don’t want to charge him. And I don’t want you to press charges either, but I won’t stop you if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t want him to go to jail, I want him to go to therapy. He needs it.”

“I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but he really does. And I think you need to be the one to bring it up with him. We can do some research, too, and find psychiatrists that have their own practices so that it’s not connected to the hospital at all.”

“That sounds like a great idea, but I think you mean I do the research cause you are supposed to be resting and not doing any physically or mentally strenuous tasks.”

“Fine, fine. Just give Will a hug from me when you see him.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ONE YEAR LATER

The day of the trial had finally arrived and you were pissed off about it. The date of the trial was the same day as your due date. The defence had done everything they could to delay the trial, and when they finally settled on the worst possible day three weeks ago, you’d tried to have it delayed again because you didn’t want to give birth in a courtroom. The defence had convinced the judge to deny it, so here you were, sitting in a sweltering room that smelled like old wood and seventies carpet for five hours beside your husband behind the district attorney doing your best not to glare at the judge. “It’s going to be okay, honey, she won’t get away with anything, it’s cut and dry. The only real thing to do is to determine her sentence.” Jay kissed your forehead and placed his hand on top of yours on your protruding stomach. You winced. “She just kicked again, Jay.”

“That’s seven minutes apart.”

“I’m in labour, we need to go.” Jay nodded to your lawyer who motioned to the judge for permission to speak. “Your honour, my client is in labour, may we adjourn so that she and her husband can go to the hospital?”

“Objection your honour!”

“Ms. Asher, do not interrupt the prosecution. I’ve heard and seen more than enough evidence. Ms. Asher, you are hereby sentenced to twenty-five years in prison for aggravated assault and attempted murder. The court now is adjourned. Oh, and Dr. Y/L/N and detective Halstead? Congratulations.”

[maevemarethyu]

Unexpected (1/?)

Summary: A Bucky x Reader fic

You weren’t expecting it. Neither of you were.

That didn’t mean you weren’t happy with how it ended.

Warnings: Cheating, Threats, Sad Boi Hour, Heatbreak, I’m not quite sure what else.

“Your husband is fucking my wife.”

Those were not the words you were expecting to hear when you open your door on a cool Wednesday night. Even more shocking was the man who said them: James Buchannan Barnes.

An Avenger was on your doorstep with red-rimmed eyes and a stoic look on his handsome face.

Your first instinct is to deny the accusation. Your husband loves you! You’d been married for nearly six years. You had been high school sweethearts, you never went to bed angry, you had your neighbors over for game days, hell you had just gone on your weekly date night yesterday!

A date night that he had to leave early because of an emergency at the station but, he couldn’t help that. He was a police officer for the NYPD and he couldn’t control when bad guys decided to be bad.

Right?

Yes. Your husband loves you which is why he hates working late all the time and he spoils you with gifts and flowers. He’s been planning you both a surprise trip for vacation which is why he never let you see his phone or laptop. He had gone to your favorite store to buy you a new perfume which is why his shirts smelled like rose instead of your signature lemon and rosemary scent.

Right?

The tears welling in your eyes make you realize just how much of a fool you really were and suddenly, all you want to do is scream. Your lips fall open to follow through but, your voice won’t comply and all that comes out is a single syllable.

“Oh.” You had never thought a two-letter word could hold so much heartbreak and, apparently neither did the ex-Winter Soldier because his mask of aloofness falls, revealing raw and unhidden heartbreak in his blue eyes.

The two of you stay silent for a moment, processing his words while staring at one another. The unspoken question of now what? lingers between you. What does one do when their world is shattering around them? When you find out that the person you thought was the love of your life was sleeping with another woman.

Last night… Patrick came home late and you two…

“I’m going to be sick.” You announce blearily before rushing to the bathroom and emptying the contents of your stomach. This couldn’t be happening. This was all just some sick dream because there was no way Patrick would do this to you; with the Winter Soldier’s wife no less. You were normally impeccable at spotting a liar but, you had been duped.

“I’m sorry.” The aforementioned soldier’s voice startles you and you wipe the sick from your mouth before facing him. “I-I thought you deserved to know.”

You appreciated it. Really, you did but, you couldn’t bring yourself to thank him. Ignorance wasn’t a good color on you but, you needed time to let the thoughts swirling in your mind settle. Speaking of swirling, you suddenly remember to flush the toilet with a cringe. You could handle blood, excrement, urine and everything in between but, vomit? That was your weak point and it made this whole situation burn more than the acid that had crawled up your throat.

Yet, there was no judgement in his blue eyes when you finally get the courage to look at him; only understanding.

Of course he was understanding. He was probably the only person on the planet that could understand your situation in depth. He was in the thick of it with you.

“I’m sorry too.” You manage after several deep breaths and his jaw clenches tightly. You didn’t know what you were apologizing for but, you could tell he appreciated it; his face was quite expressive for a well-known soldier turned assassin turned hero. “I’m Y/N.”

You knew he knew your name (how else would he have found you) but, you still felt the need to introduce yourself no matter how shitty of a situation you were in. His blue eyes widen in realization before shooting to his boots.

“Ah, shit. I really just rushed here and- That wasn’t the right way to go about this.” Understatement of the century. “James Barnes.” He finishes.

You would have called the way he stumbled over his words cute if your heart wasn’t currently lying in the bottom of your stomach in a million pieces with Patrick’s name written on every shard. It hurt.

“You know, I used to think writers exaggerated how heartbreak felt.” You let out a humorless and bitter laugh. “I didn’t think it could hurt this much.”

The cold tile of your bathroom floor was starting to make you butt ache but, you can’t bring yourself to move from your position resting against the bathtub and you accept this as your new life. Counting the tiles until the pain passes.

He hums in response, sliding down to the floor across from you, back against the wall. “This definitely ranks in the top five shittiest things to happen to me.”

That said something if everything you read about the Winter Soldier and HYDRA was true. You never could understand how people could treat each other so cruelly. Why someone would go out of their way to cause another pain. It just didn’t make sense to you.

Your next door neighbor’s music lilted through the walls as it did every night and it gave you an odd sense of comfort. She was a cello player and always seemed to play whenever you were having a bad day. You and James sit in silence and your eyes fall closed as you listen to her rendition of Electric Love.

It was one of your favorites but, Patrick always complained about the noise. Patrick.

The cheating, lying, manipulative piece of shit.

“How did you find out?” You hiss, immediately regretting the words as soon as they leave your mouth. You didn’t want to know. Right now you just wanted to curl up on your couch and eat enough ice cream to put you into a coma.

He clears his throat and you open your eyes to meet his. The pain in them shone clear and you could feel tears welling up again.

“I had my suspicions. Cla- She had been acting weird for a few months but, she kept turning it onto me. Told me I was imagining things.” His voice was thick with emotion and it broke the dam keeping the tears in your eyes. “It was Sam that saw them. He was testing out Redwing and we thought it would be funny to check on ou- the apartment; maybe tap it on the window and scare her a bit. Guess the joke was on me.”

Oh. You got sick just thinking about it. You couldn’t imagine seeing it first hand.

“I didn’t go home last night. Steve made me stay at the compound while Tony ran facial recognition on your… Tony told me he was married and I came straight here.”

His words cause you to sputter. “You mean they don’t know we know?!”

He shakes his head and a shaky breath leaves your lungs. You were half hoping Patrick got his ass handed to him Avengers style and that’s why he hadn’t come home yet; save you the trauma of confronting him yourself.

The other half of you was glad. You had more than a few choice words for your husband; the first ones being We’re getting divorced.

“I didn’t know how to face her.” He whispers and your ears barely catch it. He sounded so defeated and you were sure it matched the look on your face. You didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve this. He was a goddamn hero.

The anger doubles in your chest, making up for his lack of. You’d never seen anyone so broken, hell, you’ve never felt so broken in your entire life and the people causing it were none the wiser. Patrick had told you he was staying at the station tonight but, you knew better now.

He was with her. They were together while you and James were crying on your bathroom floor, trying to salvage what was left of your hearts.

And you were starting now.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and dial the number of one of your best friends, ignoring James’ curious blue eyes. It rings exactly two times before you hear a warm hello?

“Hey Mattie.” Trying to keep your voice level fails miserably when you sniffle. “I- uh. Can we meet for breakfast tomorrow? Foggy too?”

“Y/N. What-“ You cut him off with a please and he agrees reluctantly. You agree to meet him at your favorite diner at nine tomorrow morning. You just had to get through tonight.

“Thank you Matt. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You hang up the phone and chuck it past James’ head, through the open door, and it hit the wall with a satisfying crack; catching the Avenger off guard. You weren’t a pacifist but, you weren’t usually so violent. You almost pitied Barnes, he was seeing the worst of you tonight and it was his first time meeting you.

“Friend of yours?” He asks with a barely there smile and you nod while chuckling at your own outburst.

“He’s my best friend… and a lawyer. I want the divorce papers ready so I can shove them in Pat’s stupid face when I confront him.” You notice his jaw twitch at the mention of divorce and you eye his sour look curiously. “What? You don’t expect me to stay with him after this, do you?”

Wide eyes meet yours and he shakes his head slowly. “No. It’s not that. It’s just divorce wasn’t really common in the thirties.”

Oh his sweet summer soul. You had almost forgotten he was a man out of time; still adjusting to the new age. It made your blood boil to think that his wife would betray him like this.

“Welcome to the twenty first century. Where you don’t have to stay married to cheating spouses.” You mutter, raising an invisible glass in a toast.

“How?” He asks, catching you off guard.

“How what? How does one get a divorce?” He nods, looking lost and you don’t hesitate. “Come meet my friends with me. This is all new for me too and I trust them with my life.”

You didn’t want to mention that you honestly wanted him there because he was proof that you weren’t the only one fooled. You weren’t alone in this.

“Are you sure? I understand that its private and-“

“Privacy went out the window when your wife fucked my husband.” You scoff, mirroring his crude language from earlier; he winces before apologizing again.

Your phone goes off in the hallway, signifying the timer you had set was finished and you stand with a groan; joints popping from sitting on the floor for too long. Your mind immediately switches in to work mode; eyes going dry and breathing evening out. It was a superpower of yours; the ability to compartmentalize your feelings.

“I need to feed Laysa.” You walk past the man on the floor, missing the look of horror on the man’s face. “She gets cranky when she’s hungry.”  

He doesn’t speak but, he follows you into the kitchen. You had premade the bottle so all you had to do was microwave it for a few seconds. You suppose having a stranger following you around in your home should be more worrying but, you were just happy you weren’t alone; having the ex-Winter Soldier near you felt as natural as breathing and you didn’t have the mental capacity to question why as of right now.

Barnes opens and closes him mouth a few times, looking as if he wanted to ask you a question but, unable to get the words out.

“How old is she?” He manages after nearly a minute of silence and you answer without much thought.

“Four weeks.” You hum, pulling the bottle out of the microwave and testing the temperature on your arm. “You know Ophelia’s Diner on West 49th?”

Once you’re sure the bottle is warm enough, you meet his blue eyes and a slight frown mars your face when you notice how pale he had gotten. He looks mortified but, nods anyway.

“Meet us there at nine tomorrow morning. Are you going home tonight?” You don’t know why you ask but, the thought of him having to go home and face- huh, you never actually got her name- left a rock in your stomach.

“S’gonna stay at the compound again. Make up some excuse. What about you? Are you two going to- I mean are you alright with- Is your husband?” He was stumbling on his words again and you find it oddly endearing that he was worried about you.

“Patrick is staying at the station tonight.” At least that’s what he told me You add under your breath but, its clear he hears you when his face turns grim. A painful silence envelops the room and can’t stand it so, you clear your throat and re-test the bottle.

James takes the hint and shuffles his feet, looking smaller than a man his size should. “I’m sorry again for showing up like this.”

“I appreciate you for having the balls to come here and tell me the truth.” You say with an honest, albeit dim, smile. “I’ve gotta get this to her before she gets cranky. I’ll see you tomorrow James.”

He tries to return your smile but, it comes out as more of a grimace. “Goodnight Y/N”

You watch his broad-shouldered form walk down the hall and disappear before opening the door to your spare bedroom turned nursery; weak mewls reaching you ears. You were late with the bottle and Laysa knew it. Cubs could be so dramatic.

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (14)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Rage... A sudden outburst of this emotion can turn a man into a real beast. A lot of things can make you get angry. Most often, it’s when someone is attacking your loved ones. And when you end up finding those responsible... let's say doctors have a hard time repairing some of the body members.

But when rage takes a narcissistic and sadistic assassin like Danny... Well, it's like you're treating of beast... A beast. He had spent the whole night looking for the one who stabbed you, thinking and imagining how he would take care of his "guest". He wasn't angry because that man wanted to steal the show by killing you, no... He was DRUNK with rage because that filthy bastard wanted to KILL you. If there's someone who has to scare you... if there is someone who has to hurt you... if there is someone who has to kill you... That's him. him and him ONLY.

He had fallen asleep in his office, passing his rage on the photo of McKellan who was unrecognizable, the knife planted on McKellan's forehead. He was lying on the couch with his glasses resting on the little table next to him, a plaid serving as a blanket. He moaned slightly and moved a little in all directions. Like when a child has a nightmare. And he had one. He remembered the long corridors, the nurses and doctors who passed through the rooms, the patients who were lying in their beds, others in wheelchairs and.... That door. This room: number 012. That's where she was... that's where she...

“Danny...”  

He awoke startling, drops of sweat beading on his forehead, panting as if he had run a marathon. The simple fact of having seen the façade of the hospital in which you are... brought him back bad memories. He thought he would never go back, he never wanted to go back... and yet... He got up, left his office to go into the bathroom, and put some water on his face. He needed to wake up. As he wiped his face with a towel, his phone rang. Mattew or Melina, probably.

“Hello?” Danny said, his voice sounded tired.  

“Hi Jed...it’s me Mattew... I know it's a silly question after what happened yesterday but...how are you? You seem tired. I don't mind you, do I?” said Mattew embarrassed.

“You never bother me, you know that. I... let's say I had better nights... I'm worried about (Y/N) . Even though I know she's safe there. How about you?”

“I didn't sleep better than you if it makes you feel better... Neither did Melina. The boss called me... you don't need to come to work if you don't have the strength. You can work quietly at home until you feel able to come back.” replied Mattew.  

“That's nice of him... I'll be back on Monday morning... I think I'll take advantage of this weekend to... to clear my mind. And go and see her. Until she got out of the hospital.” said Danny, rubbing his eyes.

“Do you feel able to go on your own? Do you want us to come with you? Because yesterday you were completely... paralyzed at the thought of getting inside.

If only you knew the reason, poor man...that's way too personal for Danny to talk about. But if he ever has to talk about it... there is one person, whom he "judges" worthy of being aware of.... It's you. Of course, he'll have to change two or three little things.

“Jed?” ask Mattew on the other line.  

“Sorry, I was somewhere else. I promised her I would go and see her. Then I'd go. Don't worry about me. I think I'll be fine on my own. I’m sorry but, I have things to do before I go to see her. Say hello to everyone for me. And don't forget to tell the boss.” respond Danny.

“Sure! Rest well Jeddy! See you Monday then!”

Danny hung up before returning to his office, putting on his glasses and removing the knife from his hunting board. He observed the photo, at least what was left of it, a bad look, but a crazy smile on his face. Oh, when he finally gets his hands on him... He's going to torture him like never before. A slow, painful, unbearable agony, before slaughtering him, tearing his skin, making him so unrecognizable that no one will be able to approach his corpse without immediately throwing up on him. He will no longer have the skin on his bones... it will only be a putrefaction heap.

Mike was a work of art... But McKellan will become a masterpiece. A bloody, twisted, disturbing masterpiece. The most beautiful trace of his existence, the most beautiful signature of Ghostface. And when it's over... He will ensure that no one comes near you. As I said, Danny does not share what belongs to him. And he intends to make it clear.

It's amazing that we found the headless body of the dealer but not the body of Mike as well as the photos... and his basement of fantasies. Danny had worked on it more than on the other and he felt a bit vexed. But sooner or later...someone will find him. And with the bloody arrows Danny left on the walls, he's not going to get lost. It's so nice of him that he surprises himself.  

Well... it's time for him to get ready, he said he'd come to see you, and he will. But first he had to go to the police station, witnessing what happened, the police asked him to come to hear his testimony as well as the description of your attacker. If only they knew who they were going to welcome, just thinking they were getting a poor witness... It's no longer taunting the police at this level, it's this openly mocking them.

And then he's going to do something he hasn't done in years... buy a bouquet of flowers. For you. Even if the beauty of the flowers will never surpass yours. His sweet little angel. What kind of friend would "Jed" be to you if he came with nothing? Of course, you wouldn't mind, but for Danny who has studied other people's stupid behaviours, bringing flowers is always well seen. And "Jed" is supposed to behave like that.

He tied his hair, put his glasses back in place, took his bag and left his apartment to go to his van. It’s not the desire that he lacked to go sneak into your apartment but, the police of this small town are not very friendly when the person they summon doesn’t respect the schedules. And for the moment he must not draw suspicions on him. Brush the police in the direction of the hair during the day, provoke them and humiliate them at night. So far, that's what he's always done. And that always worked.  

The police station... hmph. For Danny, getting in is like letting the wolf into the sheepfold, or a demon going to heaven. How ironic... But funny. He pushed the door and went to the reception to show his summons. The policeman showed him the way and knocked on the door of the man who was handling the case: Inspector Daniel Wilhelm. What a surprise... Wilhem was also in charge of the Ghostface murders... It's a small world. Or he did it on purpose.

“Inspector Wilhem...” said Danny with a smirk.

“Jed Olsen... Of all the witnesses who could have been there... You must have been in the heap. Are you going to follow me until I die?”

“I can turn the question over to you... But you didn't summon me to talk about coincidences and fate, did you?”  

“No. Take a seat. Coffee?” said Wilhelm turning his back on Danny to serve himself a cup of coffee.

“No thanks.”  

Wilhelm relocated to his office, taking out all the necessary to record the testimony and called a graphic designer for the description of the suspect. Danny told everything that had happened this morning, down to the smallest detail. Wilhelm asked questions as he went to see if there was a special connection between you and your attacker. Then came the portrait of the aggressor that Danny described without any problem, this idiot had his face completely uncovered... Amateur. The whole thing lasted many hours and once the graphic designer left and the deposition signed, Danny put his stuff in his bag.

“You said you suspect a certain... McKellan to be the instigator of this... attempted murder. Do you have any proof of that? Because such an accusation can cost you dearly if you're wrong, Olsen.” said Wilhelm looking at the file and then Danny.

“Well, he threatened her for a simple order that she could not carry out; And I know that this man is not the type to stop at the legal means to get satisfaction.” said Danny without looking away from the inspector.

“Always sticking your nose all over Olsen.... You're worse than a weasel. It will also cost you dearly one day …"  

“If it's to allow people to discover the truth down to the smallest detail, even the most disturbing, I don't give a shit about dying, Wilhelm...”

“Tsk...By the way Mike Harris' name must be familiar to you, right? It seems to me that he was working with you... Do you know if he had any connection to drug trafficking?”  

“I don't get myself into the lives of my colleagues... but recently I learned that he had big addiction problems, which would explain why he went after me and my colleagues... Why this question?”

“We found the headless body of a guy last night... autopsy revealed a high level of cocaine... and apparently after doing some research, we discover that he was a dealer and Mike was one of his regular clients. But if you don't know... I'm not going to hold you any longer. You can leave Olsen.”

Danny got up and left the police station after shaking Wilhelm's hand. Once outside, he insulted Wilhelm in a low voice before getting in the car and going to buy flowers. Then he drove to Zanesville Hospital. He went to the reception where he asked for your room number. He remained frozen for a few seconds when the young woman in the reception told him that you were in room 012...They say history repeats itself but... that's too much.

What are the chances that two people from his entourage, two women, will end up in the hospital, in the same room? knowing that this happens years after she... Danny clutched the bouquet in his hands and inhaled deeply before knocking on the door of your room. He waited for you to allow him to enter, to open the door and face you, his eternal angelic smile on his lip.

“Jed! I’m glad to see you!”  you said happily, as if nothing had happened.

“Hey...” he starts before giving the bouquet of flowers. “I'm not an expert in flowers... and I don't know your tastes but... I thought you'd like iris flowers.”

“Hawn you’re so sweet...you don’t have to Jed...Thank you. Don’t stay there, take a sit!” you said, taking gently the bouquet from his hands. “So, how are you? I must have worried a lot of people... I'm sorry.”  

“For what? To have been stabbed? Even if you didn't do anything or say nothing?  you don't have to apologize. And... I should ask you the question: How are you? What did the doctors say?”  

“I was lucky... the doctors took me just in time. The blade didn’t hit any vital points fortunately. Normally tomorrow or the day after tomorrow I could go out. But I'll have to be careful and not make too much effort. I owe you my life... Once again.”

“Good...You don’t have to thank me; you would have done the same for me. Mattew and Melina told me to say hello to you. they didn't sleep better than me.”

You talk for hours. Laughing about everything and nothing. That laugh... Danny could hear it for hours. And see you with that smile... that angel's smile. it reminded him of those same moments he spent with her. History repeats itself... but compared to her... You're alive and you're going out. But all good things have an end. And the time for Danny to leave came. He got up and prepared to leave when he felt your hand holding his arm.

“You... Will you be back tomorrow? I'd love to talk with you again.” you ask like a little child.  

“...Of course. Rest well.” he said, heading to the door before he stops and turn to you. “By the way who was this man...Parkson?”  

“Oh...He...He’s my banker! I told him I would call him when I was settled and ...as it had been a while, he preferred to travel in person to see me. I know it's not common but... He's a little weird. But I can trust him. Just like I trust you.” you respond with a smile.

Danny nodded and, waving his hand, he left the room and then the hospital. He still had a lot... A lot to do. He was not going to go after your attacker, knowing that Inspector Wilhelm had his robot portrait... But a little visit to McKellan's house couldn't hurt. And he's going to leave him a little passing gift. Nothing very extravagant... a little bloody on the edges... But something simple. or maybe go back to the traditional method of phone calls?

In any case, don’t face a man until you know all the details about him. A little surveillance in the middle of the night, that's Danny's favorite activity. He got into his van and went home to pick up his other bag. The one that contained his outfit and his mask. No Ghostface for you tonight... Too bad. But don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to make up for lost time when you're in your apartment.  

He picked up his mail, went back to his apartment, put his belongings in his office and then picked up his other bag to leave. He went back on the road to McKellan's house, he had carefully searched for his place of residence, which frankly is not very hard to find. Look for Roseville's most eye-catching home and you'll know this is where McKellan lives. Quite isolated from everything and everyone which did not surprise Danny, when you saw the oversized ego of this rich rotten up to the marrow.

He parked in the little corner of the forest that hid his van to perfection, put on his outfit and mask before getting out of the vehicle. He observed the building that stood in the distance, the mad look and a bad smile on his face. Tonight, is not your time McKellan... You're lucky...

But soon...The devil will come and get his prize...

Your screams and your death.

***

(And it’s done! My head hurts as if a monkey had taken me for a bongo. But everything's fine! I'll be able to rest on my weekend! hoping you'll like this chapter! See ya!)

[youreobsessedwithciminalminds]

Back To Where I’m From (Part 1) (Criminal Minds x Reader)

I’ve been re-watching the Twilight series and decided to place the case in Forks and have the reader be from there. I’m getting all my information about there from Google. If you live there and I get something incorrect, I am sorry, and will try to correct it

Except the Police chief won’t be who it was at that time

Also, with the teams, I mean for who they prefer y’know? And I am team Jasper and Emmett because those boys need love from the fans

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Warnings-um...none I don’t think

Rating-PG

I sighed as I laid down onto the ground. The flowers of the meadow surrounding me. This meadow, was a clearing in the woods. Trees all around the opening. It was calming being here again. I moved to Las Vegas as soon as I graduated High School. Thinking I wouldn't miss, this, all of this. But I did. I missed the constant cover of rain, sitting in the woods until nightfall. Reading, doing homework, drawing, being...normal, here in this meadow.

I gasped as I woke up suddenly. The light from my window in my glaring into my room. The loud sounds from DC coming through. I looked at my clock and saw it blinking 6:00. I sighed and pushed myself out of bed. I walked into the bathroom and looked into the mirror.

My face was flushed, small bands of sweat on my forehead. The bags under my eyes were worse. I rubbed my eyes and tossed a washcloth into the sink, turning the hot water on. I grabbed the soap and put it on so I could wash my face. I sighed when I was done, I put my makeup on. A simple brown smokey. It was the middle of winter so I planned on just wearing a light brown sweater and black jeans.

I grabbed said outfit from my closet and the brown boot heels from under my bed. I walked into my kitchen and started the coffee. I walked back into my bedroom and slipped my clothes on. I walked to my kitchen and grabbed my bottle to put my coffee in. I grabbed the sugar and milk and grabbed the coffee when it finished.

I made my coffee, grabbing my bag and slipping my scarf onto my neck. I walked out of my apartment and down to my car.

-

I closed the case of the tablet and stood up from my seat. The case was happening in my hometown on Forks, Washington. Yes, where Twilight took place. It wasn’t that small nor that big. Population 3,320. Around the same from when I lived there. It was surprising that anything was happening there. Almost nothing does.

“It’s crazy to think that we’re gonna be in the place that Twilight takes place!” I shook my head. Garcia was going with us on this case because Hotch felt like we would really need her help.

“I know! This is gonna be fun! Wait, team Edward or Jacob?” JJ stop both me and Garcia.

“Edward.”

I shook my head, “Neither, I’m team Emmett and Jasper.”

“Really? You prefer those two over Edward and Jacob? You prefer a confederate soldier over Edward?!” I gave a small laugh at Garcia’s outburst.

“What are you three talking  about?”

We looked over at Derek and JJ spoke, “So, Twilight, I book series and upcoming movie series. New Moon, the second book and soon movie, comes out this year. The movie that is, the book came out September 6, 2006. Anyways, Twilight takes place in Forks, Washington. And there are two teams, team Edward and Team Jacob. Garcia and I are Edward while Y/N is sitting here saying that she wouldn’t choose either of them.”

“Are you gonna look me in the eyes and tell me that Jasper Hale and Emmett Cullen. Aren’t, one, the best people ever, two, aren’t cute? C’mon! Sure! Jasper was a confederate soldier, but, most people who grew up in the south were forced to be! We have no idea what his opinion was!”

They shook their heads, “I don’t understand.”

We all looked at Spencer and I walked over to him. I placed my hand on his shoulder, “Good, you don’t need to.”

-

The jet had landed and we were driving to the police station. Good part? It’s still the same police chief as it was when I lived here. Bad part? My exes father. Not that me and my ex broke up in a bad way. It’s just that we were engaged and meant to get married in a month. I was moving to DC to join the FBI, he didn’t want to come with me. Which I understood. We went our separate ways. Only speaking to say happy birthday or see how the other was doing.

I was in the same vehicle as JJ, Emily, and Garcia. The guys were in the other. I wished I had taken the lead, I could’ve taken the back road and we would’ve been there by now. But I hadn’t told the rest of the team I was from here. 

Of course I knew that would come out as soon as people see me.

-

I parked the SUV and got out. We followed in behind Hotch and where greeted by Chief Watson. “Thank you all for coming. I’m Chief Jeremy Watson.”

JJ nodded and shook his hand. “I’m technical liaison Jennifer Jareau, JJ is fine, we spoke on the phone.” I watched as Chief Watson nodded, “This is our Unit Chief SSA Aaron Hotchner this is my team, technical analysis Penelope Garcia, Dr. Spencer Reid, SSAs David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, and-”

“My god, Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?”

I gave a soft smile and moved from the back to the front. Grasping my hands in front of me, “Yes Chief Watson.”

He pulled me into a hug. When he pulled away he finally spoke again, “My god dear, I haven’t seen you in, what? 7 years?”

I nodded, “Yes sir. I’m sorry about all of the money you probably had to spend on the wedding that never happened.”

He shook his head, “It was no problem kid. It wasn’t that expensive as most of the things were being made by your family and my wife. I don’t understand why Jay didn’t want to go with you. Oh, and Melinda and I are extremely proud of you. Making it into the FBI!”

I smiled and nodded, “Thank you sir. Um...where can we set up?”

“Oh, that back room, you know the one.” I nodded and walked back to it.

When the team was in the room Hotch was the one to speak. “Y/N, you aren’t going to have anything personal with this case, correct?”

“I won’t Hotch, I promise.”

He nodded, “Alright-”

He told everyone what to do. Since I knew the grown he had me and Spencer stay back to work on the geographical profile.

-

We had been here for 2 days, if the unsub sticks to the schedule he has made, today was the day a new body would be found. I groaned and laid my head down on the table. “You good kid?”

“Rossi,” I lifted my head up, “We’re in my hometown. Last time I was here I got broke up with someone, as well as cancelling a wedding. I am terrified I will run into someone I don’t want to. Plus, this case seems way to familiar to me.”

“What do you mean?”

I shrugged my shoulders, “I don’t know. Maybe it was in some book I read. Besides, how do we know these aren’t just animal killings?”

“Because, it’s to precise and clean, as well as the fact that every 3 days a new body shows up. No way that it’s just an animal.” I looked over at Emily, “Besides, if you grew up here, you would know that.”

I sighed and got up, “I don’t know, but I’m gonna go on a walk to clear my head.” Grabbing my bag I walked out of the police station. Walking down the steps of the station I just started on the trail next to the road, I just walked until I made it to town.

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