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solelifauna · 1 month ago

Note

So this NOT to imply the writing is bad

But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser

Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?

Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used

Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael

(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)

Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.

Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.

Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.

Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.

He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.

Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.

Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.

He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.

Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.

"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.

It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.

For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.

“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”

The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.

Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.

With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.

You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.

Finally, one of your spells strikes true.

The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.

You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.

But the celebration is short-lived.

Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.

“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”

With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.

You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.

The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.

You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.

Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.

“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.

You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.

You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”

His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”

You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”

“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”

You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.

The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.

“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”

“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.

“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should’ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”

Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.

“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.

You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.

“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?

Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.

Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”

You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.

Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.

The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.

“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.

You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.

“We’re not done here.”

And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.

Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.

“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.

He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”

His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.

By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”

His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?

“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”

Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”

“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.

“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.

You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”

Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”

Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.

“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”

Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”

And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.

For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.

As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.

Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.

What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?

Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.

How did you get so far away?

He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.

Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.

But the moment is fleeting.

He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.

Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.

"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”

Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.

"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"

Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"

"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”

That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.

"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."

"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"

A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.

"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”

Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”

“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.

Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.

Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”

With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.

Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.

He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.

Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

#batfamily #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #neglected reader #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere cassandra cain #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #john constantine #yandere john constantine (kinda)#batfamily x neglected reader #batman #batfam #batfamily x reader #justice leauge dark

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rabid-dog-steve-horn · 7 months ago

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Listen up you ignorant sheep.

He lies about everything is the point of me posting this.

He didn't have the power himself to ban fracking cause the state and federal government have control of the land involved and the laws and the regulations they passed due to democrat climate change agenda which Joe Biden is a democrat and said he agrees with climate change many numerous times himself. Look that up. Strange how only democrat areas banned fracking, eh?

He didn't stop them, he didn't try to find any way to reach any compromises, he left them go ahead and push their agenda forward. Why? That's what democrats do.

Look online, I posted a few things to prove you jerks wrong and nobody said a word cause there's the proof. There's tons of stuff online about it across the country, but I'm from Pennsylvania so I found a few examples close to home. Believe me there's a shitload online. I only picked a few cause I shouldn't have to waste time looking shit up cause nobody else is willing to cause they're too busy posting TikTok videos of silly animals and crying on Facebook they had a bad hair day.

We were energy independent, we weren't relying on other countries for oil or fossil fuels of any kind until Joe Biden came in passing executive orders that reversed every single fucking thing Trump put into effect to better our country. And that's why Trump jokingly said he'd be a dictator on day one cause sleepy Joe did that exact same fucking thing to him & our entire fucking country.

You assholes must like paying more for gas and helping terrorist countries earn money to buy weapons to murder people. Where are we getting our oil from you idiots? Joe depleted our oil reserves and prevented the pipelines on American soil from being completed while letting Russia finish theirs. Then rejoined that Paris Agreement that Trump took us out of to be more energy independent and free from environmental climate regulation nonsense.

You like funding China so they gain power? They can frack & mine for minerals to build your fucking electric car batteries and cell phone batteries which we could be doing ourselves if not for the democrats.

You might wanna look online to learn gas and fossil fuels are used in a lot of everyday products not just to make your cars drivable and heat your homes.

Perhaps if you'd look things up and do some fucking research instead of playing candy crush and gambling online you'd realize how wrong the democrats really are.

#cocofun #lying biden #fuck joe biden #maga #trump #fracking #joe biden is from Pennsylvania but took fracking away in Pennsylvania #fracking was one of Pennsylvania's largest assets #sleepy joe has got to go

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juniperskye · 9 months ago

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Chewing Gum

Summary: Eddie gets gum in his hair, so Steve takes him to his favorite salon to get it out. The events of season 4 did not happen.

Eddie Munson x Hair Stylist (Fem)Reader (she’s kind of sunshiny emo lol also she’s described to have colored hair, tattoos, and piercings)

Fluff

Word count: 1474

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, no use of y/n, language!, Jason Carver being an ass, half assed salon info, let me know if I missed any!

not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Jason Carver is a dick. He treated Eddie and the boys like shit and went out of his way to make sure they knew they were “freaks”.

Eddie saw Chrissy get bumped by one of the other basketball players. They were messing around in the halls like a bunch of Neanderthals and Chrissy got struck in the crossfire. She was body checked into a locker and her books went flying.

“Here.” Eddie offered Chrissy her science book that had slid across the hall.

“Thanks Eddie.” Chrissy smiled.

Eddie nodded back to her and moved toward his homeroom, but not before Jason stormed over, purposely bumping Eddie in the process.

“Let’s go babe.” Jason said, pulling Chrissy along with him.

This had been a pretty tame reaction from Jason…or so Eddie thought. Eddie made it through homeroom and history no problem, it was when he got to lunch that all hell broke loose.

“Woahhh dude! You have gum in your hair.” Garreth said to Eddie.

“HA HA very funny Garreth.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Oh shit! Ed, man he’s not joking.” Dustin informed the older boy.

With that, Eddie reached to the back of his head and brushed his hand over his hair. As he shifted from the top of his head down towards the nape of his neck, he felt the sticky wad of chewing gum, causing his curls to tangle up.

Laughter erupted across the cafeteria, as Eddie’s gaze shifted to the disruption his eyes met Jason’s who shot him a smirk and a wink. Further proving Eddie’s theory that the asshole that was Jason Carver had, in fact, been the culprit of this incident.

“Eddie, I could call Steve, his hair guy could probably fix you right up.” Dustin offered.

“Hell no. The last thing I want to do is get help from Steve.” Eddie scoffed.

“We could just cut it out.” Mike shrugged.

“Fuck it. Call Steve.” Eddie conceded.

Dustin and Eddie made their way to the school’s payphone. Dustin was quick to dial the number and explain the whole situation to Steve once he picked up. Steve had offered to take Eddie to his hair guy, but only if Eddie asked nicely and said please…which he reluctantly choked out over the phone.

“I’ll come pick you up.” Steve told Eddie, before hanging up.

Fifteen minutes later, Steve pulled up to the school in his burgundy BMW, yelling at Eddie to “hop in”. The drive started off in an uncomfortable silence. This was the first time Eddie had hung out with Steve alone, not that they were hanging out.

“So, listen Eddie, nobody, and I mean NOBODY, knows that this is where I get my hair done and honestly I’d like to keep it that way.” Steve explained.

“Okay…you’re freaking me out. Where is this place?” Eddie said as he looked around the unfamiliar neighborhood.

“Just up here on the left.” Steve said, pulling up in front of a hair salon.

Eddie initially felt confused, he figured that Steve would go to a barber, like any other guy from school, but this actually made a lot of sense. Steve cared about his hair the way any girl would and he’s very particular about it so naturally he would go somewhere that would take better care of his hair.

As they made their way up the curb, Eddie was able to get a better look of the inside. It was painted mostly black but there were bright pops of hot pink and teal around the place. There were pink velvet couches and those smiley face daisy pillows strewn about them. There was only one employee in the place, and she was currently blow drying some girl’s hair.

Eddie’s eyes scanned the hair stylist, you were beautiful you had pink streaks in your hair, dark tattoos littering your arms and a nose ring. You took Eddie’s breath away.

“Steven Harrington you better not be back here to ask me to cut your hair shorter. You made me take so much off last time and I still haven’t gotten over it!” You shrieked.

“Would you relax! I’m not here for a haircut, I’m here with my uh, my friend.” Steve said, glancing over at Eddie.

“Hi Steve’s friend! Oh, my goodness your hair is beautiful! Please don’t tell me you want me to cut it off!”

Your theatrics were making Eddie’s heart sing. The compliment had him blushing.

“God no! I don’t want to cut my hair, that’s actually why I’m here.” Eddie exclaimed.

“He got gum stuck in his hair.” Steve replied waving him off.

“I didn’t get shit stuck in my hair. That asshole Jason Carver spit gum in my hair.” Eddie explained.

“Ugh the Carver boys are all terrors. I remember being a sophomore when Michael Carver was a senior and if he wasn’t the biggest douche bag, then I don’t know who was.” You said, shaking your head. You shifted your gaze over to where Eddie and Steve were sitting. “Wait a minute! I know you, Eddie Munson, we had freshman English together!” You said, reintroducing yourself to him.

“I knew you looked familiar!” Eddie smiled.

You told him that you’d be with him in just a minute, you wanted to get your client finished up and checked out. He watched in awe as you effortlessly sectioned and styled her hair, led her over to the register and cleaned your station quickly. He noticed you gathering a few things, which he could only assume would be for him.

“Okay come over and sit!” You gestured to your chair. As Eddie made himself comfortable you began explaining what you were going to do. “So, I am basically going to load your hair up with oil which should allow the gum to slide out. I will wash your hair after too, so you don’t leave here looking like a greasy mess. I have a reputation to uphold!”

“Okay, thanks.” Eddie said, pushing his bangs out of his eyes.

“If you want I can trim your hair too, just clean it up, make it so your bangs aren’t in your eyes so much.” You offered.

“Oh um, that would be great but I uh, I don’t have any…”

“It’s on the house Eddie. Just a favor for a friend.” You said quietly.

Eddie nodded slightly and you got to work, slipping on some gloves, and pouring the hair oil into your hands. You started working it into his hair, really targeting the areas around the chewing gum. Slowly but surely the gum started to untangle itself from Eddie’s chocolate tresses. Once the gum was completely out, you led Eddie over to the shampoo bowl and proceeded to wash his hair. You couldn’t help but smile down at the soft expression he wore on his face. His eyes had fluttered shut and you thought he truly could have been asleep the way his face was relaxed. After washing, conditioning and finally rinsing his hair, you gently grasped his shoulder.

“Eddie, you ready for me to cut your hair?”

“Huh? Oh yeah.” Eddie said, carefully getting up and heading back to your chair.

Eddie sat and you and him chatted back and forth as you trimmed his hair. You had made sure to communicate through every part of the process, which products you were using and why, the way you were cutting his hair and adding in some natural layering to help with the bulk, trimming his bangs a little shorter than he was used to so they wouldn’t be too long so quickly. You pulled out the hair dryer and attached the diffuser, explaining what it did to Eddie and letting him know that blow drying definitely isn’t necessary for him to do.

Steve couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that plastered its way on his face at the interaction playing out before him. He had never seen Eddie sit still this long or listen this intently to anyone. Steve couldn’t help but think that Eddie had better thank him for bringing him here.

“Alright Eddie you are all set.”

“Thank you so much, seriously! I really appreciate it and I don’t think my hair has ever looked or felt this good.” Eddie said, admiring your handywork.

“Of course! And by the way if you ever get gum in your hair again, peanut butter or cooking oil can get it out, it just takes a bit of work.” You explained. “But know that you can always come here, and I can help too!” You couldn’t help but mentally facepalm.

“Yeah. That sounds good! You know, I would need your number…you know to get a hold of you..” Eddie smirked.

He couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of thanks toward Jason Carver…he had brought you into his life, all with a piece of chewing gum.

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kerubimcrepin · 2 months ago

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LIVEBLOG: Wakfu Season 4, Episode 8 [PART 2]

Our guy is finally starting to understand how bad things are. <3

I think what he hates the most (after teleporting one singular time) is how this makes him lose his face. The #1 thing Joris hates the most, always, and forever, is appearing weak or unprofessional.

Yeaa lmao, everyone except for him has immediately oriented themselves in the portal, while he's struggling with the process and the landing...

Joris is way too confused to even begin being mad at this shit. Like ok. This is happening now.

I think the reason he isn't mad at this later is that it's a logical decision to [grumble, grumble] support a member of their party who was [deep sigh] struggling with teleportation for their common good as a team. Even if it was him.

The voices in my head compel me to screenshot him more.

I think Joris said this because he heard Yugo wonder if it's a trap and Yugo's opinions are very important to him <3 He's just like "man Yugo was right. 😑 as he tends to be when he's not being blinded by emotions. [is himself blinded by emotions as he is saying this]"

Joris is probably starting to get mad at Ad by now, but once again, "ughh I guess carrying the guy with the teleportation sickness, while we are all being chased by an eldritch horror, is logical... fuck's sake..."

I could write a novel about how good Toross is at randomly guessing Joris's insecurities and hitting them like every button on the keyboard.

He literally put the meaning of "You're 3ft tall, and I don't really take you seriously, and also the juxtaposition of all these three words diminishes your serious air of adulthood. You look a bit pathetic and boring, btw, despite all the expensive clothes and earnest airs. You're compensating very hard for something you don't have, and I can see that. :)" into two lines of dialogue.

And then he also uses the scare tactic of "btw I can see your Wakfu. And you are very good prey. Because you're a prey animal here. Did I mention I was going to eat you." (and also, unknowingly, this is striking at Joris insecurity #2: people learning information about him and, god forbid, perceiving him.)

AND the finisher is "however you're not good enough to be the main dish and I don't give a shit about you."

Loving Joris's little pout here. A very cute and balanced reaction to psychological warfare. Despite Toross hitting multiple good attack points, he only shows a little bit of seething on his face (but probably enough for Toross to know this got him a reaction. <3)

OF COURSE the guy whose feelings were insulted the most goes immediately after Adamai. He's so transparent about being mad, it's so funny...

When given swords, he literally fights like Atcham. [starts throwing up blood everywhere] Yeah no, no, I'm fine. Ignore me.

Of course you'd be good at dodging magical projectiles, and using your front paws to help you with jumping and standing while keeping your spine low to the ground (to avoid hits and get ready to jump/run once again). Where did you get these moves from? Your uncle? 🤣

He's so maddd.

Yeah he is mad, but also he is his usual calculating self: trying to get close to him to find any possible weakness, while trying not to show that it is, in fact, what he is trying to do. He is locked in.

Cat behaviour once again. Looking like a wild animal is a normal thing for him to do.

You see: for Joris, this is revenge for all the shit this guy said — and also a way to prove his worth as a human being, despite the fact that all those things Toross said are true. If he acts like he is cold and calculating and useful, nobody will know that it actually bothered him. His status as someone thick-skinned and heroic will be proven.

(He learned the "circle them to try and get closer while they're busy shooting you, and then attack them from the back" method from Atcham too, btw.)

#ro liveblogs dofus #krosmoz #dofus #wakfu #wak4 #joris jurgen

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just-j-really · 1 year ago

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Concept that grabbed me and wouldn't let me go:

Dreamling soulmate AU, only they're not soulmates.

I have ideas for the canon timeline, but for the sake of argument, let's go with a modern AU. Dream and Hob aren't friends, exactly, but they're in the same friend circle, so they see each other fairly often. And one night, Dream's been dragged out drinking with some friends, and he overhears a very drunk Hob saying that soulmates are stupid, HE'S not going to go along with it, he'll fall in love with whoever he wants! So Dream (a hopeless romantic) makes some sort of bet with him, that when he finds his soulmate he'll be blissfully happy with her.

After that, whenever they run into each other at other's friends' events Dream will ask Hob if he's met his soulmate (Eleanor, according to the messy handwriting on Hob's arm), and Hob will be like "Nope! But I've got a job at this weird startup!" and then talk at him for three hours. The bet goes from a bet they're taking seriously to an excuse to talk to each other to a Weird Bit that's an essential part of their friendship.

And they are, genuinely, friends at this point, which is why it's such a betrayal for Dream when Hob answers his joking "found your soulmate yet?" with a quiet, "I think I might have. He's been asking me that question for like a year now."

Dream does not take this well. He believes in soulmates, wholeheartedly. He can't figure out a single interpretation of Hob's declaration that doesn't leave him feeling used: best-case scenario Hob legit believes what he's saying (but is still using Dream in this obviously doomed experiment of his), worst-case scenario Hob's noticed that Dream is attracted to him (even if that will never ever go any further than meaningless attraction because they are not soulmates) and is deliberately trying to take advantage of him to prove his point.

They argue. Dream storms off.

Somewhere in here, Dream has a relationship with his Actual Literal Soulmate, Alianora. It is extremely Messy, and she breaks it off because they may be soulmates but clearly this is not working. She's not the first person ever to end things with their soulmate, but it's extremely rare, and the fallout is shit-awful for both of them because everyone in their lives is trying to figure out whose fault it was, never mind that the answer was "nobody's- they met under really awful circumstances and the specific cocktail of that and the pressure, both internal and external, they were under to Be Perfectly Happy Together Forever just. Poisoned their relationship and they didn't deal with it until it exploded and by then it was too late."

Eventually, Dream and Hob resolve their argument, complete with an inn-building-equivalent Big Gesture from Hob. Their relationship goes back to the way it was, mostly, except that Dream is undeniably aware that Hob is sad and pining after Dream and trying to hide it from him. And Hob being sad is Basically the Worst Thing That Could Possibly Happen.

Dream is... more aware of the implications of that thought than he'd like to be.

And once he's noticed that it's really, really hard not to notice how gorgeous Hob is when he smiles, the way his heart flutters whenever Hob calls him a nickname or makes sure to grab Dream a coffee when he gets one for himself, the fact that he'd be perfectly happy sitting and listening to Hob talk for hours...

And things are different now. Dream's soulmate doesn't want him, he's not betraying her if he starts a doomed relationship with someone else. Hob will be happy. The only person getting hurt here will be Dream, when Hob inevitably meets his soulmate. He's setting himself up to get hurt, yes, but at least he'll get to be happy with Hob before that.

So one night he very tentatively asks if Hob still meant what he said, about Dream being his soulmate. Hob's like "Crap I thought I was hiding it I'm so sorry I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

Dream's like "You are not actually that subtle. But I'm. Glad. You still feel that way."

It takes Hob a few seconds and a fairly terrible emotional rollercoaster to figure out what Dream meant by that, and Dream is not good about clarifying. But when he does he asks Dream on a date, and Dream agrees, and before he knows what's hit him Hob's moved in with him and is very cautiously hinting around about engagement rings and he can't possibly be in love with Hob, right? Whatever's between them is too easy, too natural, too much like they added romance to their existing friendship and somehow it worked perfectly and-

Oh. Shit.

And just when Dream realizes he's invested- not just invested, committed, this was Absolutely Not how the story's supposed to go and it's terrifying but he desperately wants it anyway- just when he's got something to lose-

Hob meets Eleanor.

And almost immediately asks if Dream would mind him explaining things to her one-on-one, since he thinks it would go more smoothly that way. Dream says he doesn't, and braces himself. It's not that he thinks Hob is lying to him. He 100% trusts that Hob has made this meeting to turn Eleanor down.

He's just also 100% certain that the moment Hob has a conversation with his soulmate he'll realize just how important a soulmate is, that Dream was right and that next to the person he's destined for, Dream means nothing to him.

When Hob gets back from the meeting he's happier than Dream's seen him in months, maybe ever, and Dream braces himself.

But the first thing Hob does after closing the door is kiss Dream, for several minutes.

And the second thing he does is excitedly tell Dream, "It went really well! She said I'm not worth it!"

And Dream's like "...what."

And Hob explains that he'd told Eleanor that he was very sorry, but he already had a soulmate, and she'd been upset but essentially told him "Yeah fine, if you're this adamant about not wanting a soulmate it is not at all worth it for me to pursue anything," with a grudging sort of understanding.

And Dream's like "...what."

And they go back and forth for a bit until finally Dream's like "But she's your SOULMATE. You're not even going to TRY to have something with your soulmate in order to stay with a man who is so bad at romance his soulmate left him."

And Hob's like "I've been saying for years now that you're my perfect other half, soulmates and destiny be damned, and I meant it. You're perfect, and I'm not letting you go for anything."

And Dream... still can't entirely believe in an undying non-soulmate romance the way Hob does. But he wants to, and he trusts Hob enough to try. And several years later they're married, maybe talking about kids, and in some mundane little domestic moment Dream realizes he does entirely believe in this now, in a way that snuck up on him gradually.

And he tells Hob he's won the bet.

#dreamling #the anti-soulmate au #the follow up to this is Eleanor and Alianora doing an enemies-to-lovers thing #with dreamling being obnoxiously domestic in the background #my fic #unsoulmates au

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madjosie · 4 months ago

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Thorns and Roses | Bangchan (pt.1)

f!reader x detective!bangchan

Part two here

Note: mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, mentions of abuse, use of tobacco, detailed scenes of murder, mental illness

Words: 12k

The repeating flashing of red and blue lights in the distance jolted Christopher out of a long trance. For the entire twenty-minute ride, his mind was completely blank. His first murder investigation. His real chance to test his own ambition and knowledge he acquired over the long and hard years of college. But most importantly, to prove he didn’t get this job for nothing.

After finishing college and doing a couple of internships, his friend landed him a job at the local police investigation unit. At least that's what Changbin thought was the least he could do for his friend, who had gotten him through far more shit in life than he should have. Christopher and Changbin had been friends since the start of university and after realizing he failed his initial career path, Changbin encouraged Chris to try the justice system instead of his original choice of music. It was a hard decision for him to leave the thing he most loved behind, but Chris decided to follow his friend's words and got into criminology. On some nights he found himself dreading the decision, but his friend was always there to encourage him that the path he now found himself on was a real calling for him.

A few years later, the pair found themselves assigned to the same investigation. Changbin was well-loved within their unit, often described by coworkers as a witty chihuahua but also extremely hardworking, with a couple hundred cases behind him already. Christopher, on the other hand, had mixed reviews. Some thought he got the job just because of his friend, while others believed he had great potential, but not enough experience to be anything more than an assistant to Changbin. For the first month, his job was to act as a printer and coffee machine; nobody took him very seriously, including his boss. He thought maybe that was the process for everyone, that everyone had to go through the "maid phase" before getting assigned. He never spoke of it to Changbin, but he was already well aware of what was happening.

Upon arrival, a swarm of butterflies, or rather angered wasps, went crazy in Christopher’s stomach. Anxiety or excitement, he didn’t know. He came with the task of finding out how the crime happened, and he wasn’t going to let a few loose screws mess up his chance.

“Seems we’re a bit late,” the driver said, the buckles clicking as they frantically tried to take them off.

The scene was painted by flashing lights of cameras and police tape. To Chris, it resembled more a creepy movie set rather than an actual place. It was the middle of December, the cold air lay thick as two police officers made their way over to the two men. His companion Changbin mumbled curse words under his breath, rubbing his hands together frantically, trying to warm them up at least to comfortably greet the approaching officers.

“Evening, gentlemen.” One spoke, his breath painting shapes in the air.

“The forensics took the body for autopsy, feel free to head on over there.” The two investigators only nodded, the atmosphere seemingly not conducive to starting any conversation.

As they got closer, the scene became clearer. A plastic folder found its way into Christopher’s hands, his companion gesturing for him to flip through the pages.

“Only 26 years old?”

“Yep, and a quite successful businessman.”

His eyes turned upward to look at the rather underwhelming house. Maybe it was due to it being December and no flowers finding the strength to bloom under the thin coat of snow, or maybe it was due to the old musty doors and windows and an unkempt porch. Chris found the strength to let out a chuckle. “Sure seems like it.”

Changbin rubbed his temples. “Apparently his girlfriend was the last one to have contact with him, but she says that at the time of the murder she wasn’t even in town.”

“Is she in for questioning?”

“Yep, they got her in right now.”

Chris’s fingers traced along the glossy paper, outlining a few news reports of the man. He seemed to be quite a successful real estate agent. Ironic, considering he lived in what looked like a literal garbage truck.

Upon entering the house, Christopher’s stomach turned at the odor that hit him like a slap in the face. “Fucking shit.” Fortunately for him, he hadn't had the glory to inhale the lingering smell of a deceased body until now, which was now a shock to his gut. Taking a few seconds for his nervous system to calm down, his mind focused on the task. If he wanted a good reputation so badly, these kinds of things shouldn’t be an obstacle for him.

The suprisingly narrow hallway of the house led right to the living room, the floor and wall painted with crimson liquid. Trash decorated the floor along with evidence markers. Trying not to move anything around and make an even bigger mess, they made their way deeper into the house, the blinking of forensic cameras flashing every now and then.

“Forced entry?” Chris handed the folder back into Changbin’s hands. “No, we’re assuming the killer had a key,” one of the remaining police officers informed, bowing her head to both of them.

The red liquid that outlined the body stood in the living room, but the trail led farther out. It seemed that the conflict started in the kitchen and proceeded to the living room. Changbin left Christopher’s side, occupied with his own brainstorming. Chris took a better look at the evidence marked with the yellow plastic. Bloody shoe prints, knocked over chairs, the kitchen utensils untouched. The killer either brought their own weapon or took the one from here with them. Flipping through a few more pages of the folder, it seemed that the footprints belonged to the victim. No found fingerprints, no DNA left anywhere. Making his way to the backyard of the house, Chris was greeted with a fresh thin layer of snow.

“How long has he been dead for?” Maybe if it hadn’t been long, he could find footprints or any type of trail. It hadn’t snowed a lot these past days, so if it happened at least two days ago— “Four days,” Changbin was heard from the bathroom, making Chris sigh in frustration and shut the back door with a loud thud. He leaned his back against the kitchen counter as his eyes fell on the small dining table in the middle of the room.

A splash of purple caught his attention from his peripheral vision. A small bouquet of purple flowers covered in glitter was thrown in the corner of the kitchen counter, barely visible because of the microwave.

“Seems like he did have a good relationship with his girlfriend,” Changbin followed his companion's gaze. “There’s no sign of struggle in the bathroom.”

For some reason, Chris decided to pull out his phone. With a quick tap and a 'click' sound, he captured the lonely pile of now long dead roses.

Time flew by, and by the 60-minute mark, they decided to call it a day. Nothing new was found except for the small sign of affection thrown away in the kitchen. The only thing they could do was wait for the analysis of the evidence found and the autopsy results to reach their hands.

3:37 AM blinked on the clock. No sign of sleep.

Chris usually had a very hard time falling asleep, being prescribed sleeping medicine ever since he got into college. His body seemed to prefer the nocturnal lifestyle. Chris rubbed his eyes, turning in his bed for the twelfth time in the past half-hour. “God fucking dammit.”

His feet hit the cold apartment floor. Step by step, he made his way to the balcony. The lights of the city drew warm shapes on the white snowy canvas, but the city had never felt this cold. With a deep sigh, he took a seat on a not-so-stable wooden chair, pulling out a box of tobacco that had been squished in the back of his pocket for the whole day. He knew it was a bad habit, and at some point in life, he might even regret it, but for his mind, it was the only option. Putting on one of his own tunes in the background, he looked over at the city, focusing on making shapes with the clouds and lights rather than the running worries.

He knew he should be extremely grateful for how far he had come, but the feeling of a missed opportunity never left his tough head. Is this even his real calling? Maybe he should have pursued music when he said he wanted to? Maybe he should have stayed on the path he started on when he got to university? Maybe it’s not his coworkers but him? His own performance? Instead of waiting for work, should he have gotten up and demanded it?

A loud groan left the deepest pit of his throat as his head fell in a desperate attempt to quiet down the most annoying and loud part of his brain. He felt as if the engines in his brain had been working for a year without stopping, and he was a minute away from overheating and shutting down. He felt a pair of eyes looking at him, his gaze spiking up immediately.

His eyes met with a girl’s. Her face was defined by only a couple of shadows from the old streetlights. Her expression seemed startled and puzzled; he could only make out the shadow of her softly curled jawline and her long hair. It seemed like she was carrying some bags with her.

“You scared me, are you okay?” Her voice was sudden, a soft melodic vibration merging out of the darkness. To Chris, her voice had become one with the now soft jazz melody playing on his phone. “Sorry. I burned myself with the cigarette.” He awkwardly chuckled as he pulled up the almost-done cigarette to show her. Probably not the most attractive thing a guy could have said for an excuse. Seemed like the only logical option, he was not going to vent to a random stranger at 3AM about how his life choices made him miserable.

She awkwardly laughed with raised eyebrows and nodded, shifting on her feet before taking a quick step, trying to escape making this conversation far more awkward than it is by now. Before he could say anything more, she sent a quick wave to the weird shirtless man on the balcony, disappearing away from the orange street lights, back into the darkness.

With a huff of relief, she set down the two bags in front of the shop’s entrance. Fiddling through the pockets of her cardigan sweater, she caught hold of a flower-shaped keychain with a pink ice cream cone glued to it. Her own work of craft.

The bell of the small shop rang as the door pushed it, usually signaling an incoming customer, but now signaling her despair and urgency. “Okay, three hours to finish it, it’s enough time.” She breathed out in a desperate attempt to calm her nerves.

She autonomously set down one bag on the counter of her work place, while the other got chucked into a big wooden box that was hidden under a broken piece of wooden flooring.

She doesn't really remember when she got the habit of doing that, or what kind of materials are even in there, but she still liked to keep them in case she ran out of something in the middle of crafting.

The pickup was scheduled for 7 AM, and did she completely forget about it and sleep through the whole afternoon and half of the night? Yes. Were an angry bride and a ruined wedding on her bucket list for this month? No.

Who the hell even has a wedding in the middle of cold December?

Her worktable, usually filled with colorful ribbons and glitters, was now covered in various shades of white, gold, and pink. Placing every flower in its designated place, not one should be even an inch off. In her mind, every misplaced glitter particle could be seen, every wrong shade diamond could ruin the whole piece, every miscolored petal could completely destroy the bouquet. She was a skilled artist, and flowers were her medium, her self-defense of choice.

Flowers could make everything pretty. Even the saddest lawn with a few daisies turns into a cozy backyard. Flowers even make funerals beautiful. It’s a sign of life. But they won’t bloom in the wrong conditions. They need sun and water to grow, to become beautiful; otherwise, they rot and become one with the ground, the ground they grew from. When you plant a flower, you have to look after it, just like a mother and father look after their children. Feed them and watch them grow into a person.

Roses hold a special place in her heart. The symbol of love, affection, and life. But roses come with thorns, and what do you do with those thorns? Thorns are there to protect the beauty of the rose, and if you touch them, they hurt you. Then what do you do with them? You remove them from the rose and throw them away.

The clock struck 7:48 AM, and the bell this time signaled a customer. A late customer, nothing new.

"Pick up for Watson," a friendly voice sang from behind the counter. Adriana emerged from the colorful beads in the doorway of her little workshop, greeting back in the same cheerful tone.

"Here you go, I hope the bride likes it." She handed over the carefully crafted bouquet of white roses and transvaal daisies, decorated with various ribbons and glitters.

"Oh my god, she will love it. Thank you again."

The cheerful woman exited the store, leaving only the faint sound of the TV to set the ambiance in the store.

Winter was always slow in the shop. Not many people find snow and harsh winds perfect for holding outside weddings or birthdays, hell even funerals get rescheduled. But, of course that is not always guaranteed, such as today. For these kinds of situations she decided that maybe it was worth it to stay open during winter.

The calm atmosphere was cut short by the ringing of Adriana's phone, her favorite song indicating that someone was trying to reach her. She picked it up and swiped the green button across the screen. "Hello?"

"Adriana, can you please come over? Some shit happened. I was at the police station until now—"

"Lila?"

"I came home last night, I didn't even enter the house and-"

"Wait, Lila, slow down. Where are you?"

The voice on the other line stopped to take a breath. "I'm at my apartment. Please come over. Jaehyun was found dead last night."

The apartment complex suddenly filled with the sound of hard footsteps. Moments later, Adriana found herself wrapping her arms tightly around her best friend, whose cries were quick to be muffled by Adriana's cardigan. In this moment of despair, Adriana didn't know how to feel; she usually kept her emotions very well under control, but now, they ran wild.

She didn't like Lila's boyfriend at all. The history between them only made Adriana's body boil with anger rather than happiness for the couple, and for all the right reasons. But seeing Lila break down in her arms naturally put all of that aside, how could she focus on anything else but tightly wrapping her arms around her.

“The police questioned me the whole fucking morning. They think I did it,” Lila managed to say between sobs.

“Oh, fuck,” Adriana broke the hug, her face painted with disbelief. She couldn’t grasp the accusation of her sweet best friend killing a human being, the amount of monstrous venom that needs to run through your veins to take the life of another living and breathing being. Lila was completely incapable of such an act.

Lila’s voice grew louder, filled with desperation. “I didn’t do it, I swear. I was out of fucking town. How the hell could they accuse me of that?” The cries got louder as Adriana’s comforting became more and more useless.

“Listen, I know you were out of town. We even texted about it.” She took Lila’s hands in hers. “I’ll be the witness for your alibi. I know you didn’t do it, Lila. We will print out the texts that you sent me and give them to the police. You’re gonna be okay Lila.”

The room eventually quieted down as Lila caught her breath, nodding in confirmation at Adriana's words. Only a faint ‘thank you’ could be heard from Lila before she got pulled into a hug once more.

Her boyfriend Jaehyun was a pretty sketchy guy. Adriana didn’t know much about him, except for the fact that he was a pure asshole towards Lila, and that he had a history of abusing drugs. Great combination.

Adriana was convinced the drugs led to his aggressive behavior. On multiple occasions she tried to sit down with Lila and convince her to break things off with him, but that just erupted an argument between the two girls. She didn’t want their friendship to end, so she stopped trying and only offered a shoulder to cry on when incidents with him happened. On couple of occasions he even threatened Adriana, which spiked an unfamiliar feeling within her. A feeling that she could maybe be the last page of his book, and the first chapter of Lila’s new life, but choosing morals, Adriana deleted the text and never mentioned it to Lila.

The cafeteria was filled with the bustling sounds of plates and chattering, every group occupying their own little table much like a high school cafeteria. Chris took slow bites of his now cold and tasteless mashed potatoes while the two men in front of him argued about something he didn't pay much attention to. It was amusing enough for him to just watch them bicker.

“Yeah, but if you leave it on for 10 then you're basically eating a rock.”

“I didn't say 10, I said 7. Are you even listening? Who the fuck boils eggs for 10 minutes?” Hyunjin spoke while pulling on Changbin's ear.

Changbin was quick to react to that, slapping Hyunjin's hand away. “Ay, you can't do that to your senior.”

Chris, on the other hand, stayed quiet, chuckling to himself at the two grown men pushing and pulling at each other’s nerves. One thing about Hyunjin that Chris valued the most was his sense of self. Nobody could tell that man anything; he followed his own path. Even though his main occupation was to nitpick at rotten dead bodies and analyze bloody weapons, he still didn't throw away his love for art. That man painted day and night, no matter how much his job as a forensic tired him out.

Their laughter was cut short by the appearance of a usual, grumpy face. “Christopher, I need you in the interrogation room. You too,” Hank pointed at Chris then briefly at Changbin.

The two men shot the long-haired boy an apologetic look while standing up from the plastic cafeteria chairs.

“We will finish this discussion later,” Changbin whispered under his breath to Hyunjin before the long-haired man was left alone to finish his lunch.

“We have a witness for Miss Bennett. You need to make a formal report of it and add it to the record. Christopher I believe you have the skills to do atleast that, right?”

He couldn’t say no to Hank, he was already terrified of him as it is. This was the first time their boss directly gave a task to him, and it felt like a huge responsibility to take it, and most importantly, do it right.

Hank handed a stack of papers to Changbin, shooting a polite smile to both of them, or more like a threatening one as it seemed.

“You’ve done this before right?” Changbin turned to look at the dumbfounded boy in front of him, raising an eyebrow at his expression.

“Twice,” Chris nodded. “I think.”

Picking out a couple of papers, Changbin handed them to Christopher, before grabbing him by his shoulders and turning him towards the big black doors. The words interrogation room bolded above a small frosted window.

He stood on the other side of a one-way mirror, awaiting the sign that he could seat himself on the chairs that stood on the other side of the reflective glass. He didn't really know what to expect; he didn't even have questions formed in his head yet, but with a few nudges and looks from Changbin his nerves let loose for at least a second or two.

To Chris, it felt like not even a second had passed before he was sitting in a pretty uncomfortable chair. His fingers fiddled with the rims of the pages of a series of notes in front of him. He was well aware the conversation was being recorded, and he for sure didn't want to have any mistakes on his record.

Just take a deep breath and stop being a bitch.

He heard the door of the interrogation room open. Three quiet "good mornings" were exchanged, but he was too anxious to look up at the women now sitting across from him. He finally pulled his gaze up, first catching a glimpse of the uniform of a police officer in the corner of the room, then at a strangely familiar pair of eyes.

Chris cleared his throat before speaking, “Good morning, ladies. Today is the 7th of December 2023, 11:05AM. Please state your names and relations to the victim for the record.”

As they spoke, he pulled out a blank piece of paper, writing down the date in the corner as he waited for them to voice out their names.

“Lila Bennett.”

“Adriana Lee.”

The man in front of them felt his breath stop for a second, the voice of the woman echoing through his ears, reminding him of a jazz melody. His eyes looked up at her, the woman calmly awaiting for the witnessing to continue. His eyes traced the familiar outline of her jawline.

“And your relations to the victim,” he cleared his throat once more, desperately trying to get the clump of anxiety out of it. He barely even spoke to her last night, but now that he sees her in the clear light instead of the streetlamp lighting, he's finding it hard to organize his thoughts.

“Girlfriend.”

“Lila's friend.”

“Okay, and miss Lee you are here to comfirm the alibi of miss Bennet on the night of the murder, December 6th, 2023?”

The woman in front of him just nodded.

“Correct?”

“Yes.” The jazz-like voice spoke up again.

“Can you confirm the location of miss Bennet of the night of the murder?”

“Yes, she had previously announced to me that she had a business trip to attend from the 4th to the 6th of December. She even sent me photos of the trip.”

“Mhm, and where were you off to, Miss Bennett?”

“I told you already, I was on a business trip to New York.” Lila's voice broke. Adriana could tell that the police weren't on her side at all with this. Hell, they are probably too lazy to even do any real investigation and just want to get it over with. She took her hand under the table, squeezing it tightly.

“I told you, I have proof she was there,” Adriana spoke to the man. “I can show you, I have them printed out.”

She reached for her bag, pulling out five printed photos of their chats from the last few days. Christopher's eyes scanned the text, noticing the photos were sent at the right time. He put the photos over the stack of papers on the table.

His attention turned from Lila to Adriana. “And can you please confirm where you were on the night of the murder?”

“I was at home sleeping. At around 3AM, I had to urgently get up to run some errands for my shop.”

Chris just nodded at the reply. “I can confirm that.”

Adriana's brows furrowed in confusion, trying to recall if she came in contact with anybody last night. She was so occupied with running to the store to finish that damn bouquet and by the lack of sleep for the whole entire morning that digging for any more information in her brain felt like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Maybe she didn't hear him right.

“Oh, the shirtless guy.” Her mouth formed an 'O' shape, her finger pointing at him.

His ears perked up at the response. He loudly cleared his throat before continuing. “Alright, and when did miss Bennet arrive back from New York?”

“It should be in the text.” Lila spoke up before Adriana could get a word out.

“You didn’t text me, you called me in the morning.” The other girl whispered to Lila. The hand holding hers suddenly getting sweaty.

The man in front of them eyed them both, switching his gaze from the girl on the left, to the girl on the right. His gaze seemed to stop at hers.

“I told you, I called the police as soon as I got home and saw him lying ther-“

“Please, sir. You even saw me on my way to the shop. You were on the balcony, I remember-“

With a swift motion, Chris got up from his chair, gathering all the papers and binders from the table. “Okay, the hearing is done. I will send the photos for further investigation. Have a great day, ladies.” He barely even finished the sentence before he was already out the door.

“The fuck was that, Chris? You could have asked so many more questions.” Changbin exclaimed, his tone not very angry but rather just confused and laced with dissapointment. He knew Chris never acted weird unless something was bothering him, but he couldn't really guess what was happening to him. He had a simple job of asking a few questions and writing down the answers on a piece of paper.

“We have enough evidence with this. Just send it over and rule her out.”

Dropping the few papers in Changbin's hands, Chris decided to return to the cafeteria, hoping at least Hyunjin was still there.

For the third time this month, a man has been found dead in his home. Autopsies reveal that all three victims showed signs of struggle, but unfortunately, no murder weapons or significant clues have been found. The crimes are still under investigation, and we are currently awaiting new information. We kindly ask all citizens if they have any information about the victims or possible suspects, to please contact the number below or the local police department. On the further note, authorities recommend keeping homes locked at all times. I am Tina Mitchell with ABC News—

The monotone voice of the news anchor was quickly cut short by Lila turning off the TV. Adriana sighed, her hands handling the hot glue gun with precision.

“Do you think they're all connected?” Lila questioned, rolling a plastic diamond between her fingers before sticking it onto the fresh layer of glue on the decorative paper. The two had been in the shop for the past couple of hours, sipping tea and trying to shift their minds to anything but the last few days, but to no avail. Every channel they turned to, every video they watched, every radio channel they tuned into—everyone talked about the murders of these three men. Knowing the topic hurt Lila, Adriana never thought of bringing it up first, but if Lila brought it up, she was more than willing to continue the conversation. Adriana, to some extent, understood her but a big part of her also didn't. Jaehyun was abusive, and as crazy as it was to admit to herself, Adriana was happy that the man finally had no way to control and harass her. He was a pretty rich and put-together guy on the outside, but when the covers lifted, he was actually a raging psycho, or in Adriana's words—a devil that should have never walked this earth. Every time he broke Lila into pieces, Adriana was the one gluing them all back together.

“Could be. There are no weapons found in any of them.”

A moment of silence fell between the two. Adriana’s eyes briefly caught Lila’s fingertips picking at the skin of her hands. “I told you to stop doing that.”

“Do you think Jaehyun deserved it?”

Tears brimmed in Lila's eyes, but she tried her best not to cry. In her mind, she thought her best friend had suffered enough because of her, and that her crying again would just set them back. Her friend worked so hard to try to make her feel better, cooking her meals when she couldn’t, cleaning her apartment, letting her cry in her arms.

“Do you want the honest answer?”

“Yes.”

“I do.”

A tear managed to escape Lila’s eye before she could wipe it with the hem of her sweater.

“Lila, he abused you, you are finally free from that.” By her words, Lila seemed to be letting her tears fall more freely.

“I know it hurts, but it was for the better, no matter how heartless it sounds.”

Lila knew Adriana wasn’t the best person to feel remorse for such people, but she couldn’t deny that her best friend’s words did pull at the strings of her heart. She took one more deep breath, finally wiping the last tear off her soft cheek.

Finally, a sob escaped her lips “But it hurts,”

“I know honey, its going to hurt until you tell yourself it doesn’t.”

The girls exchanged a quick tight hug, and a quick smile before turning their attention back to the peals and stems surrounding their table.

The cheerful bell of the store rang as footsteps echoed through the store.

“Good afternoon, welcome to Petal Paradise, how can I—” Lila's sad voice quickly changed by the cheerful customer voice, but it suddenly stopped without a warning, alerting Adriana in the back of the workshop. “How can I help you?” Lila finished in a quiet, almost unhealable voice.

“Oh hello, we didn't know this was your shop.” The shorter man spoke in a soft tone, trying not to alarm Lila by their appearance. “Oh this is not my—”

“Hello, how can I help you?” Adriana took her usual position behind the counter, staring at the two familiar men. The appearance of them sent a protective signal in her mind, quickly pulling her best friend behind her, hiding her behind her own body.

“We're not here because of the investigation, he just wanted to—”

“I saw the arrangements on your display, so I wanted to buy my date a nice bouquet. We don't mean to cause you inconvenience.” Changbin butted in the middle of Chan's speech. Both girls visibly relaxed at the statement.

“What style of bouquet are you looking for?”

Adriana’s words were still laced with caughtion, but she knew she should act towards them like she would to any other customer. Maybe it was a better idea for Lila to come to her shop another day. Seems like this would only bring more trouble on her already weak heart.

“Ermm...” The shorter man rubbed his chin while his eyes scanned all the displayed bouquets, ranging from sunflowers to roses to tulips in all different styles and colors. “This one.” He pointed at the one hanging near the TV. A rich pink and red bouquet with silver ribbons and small pink angels glued to the wrapping. The tulips of various colors hugged each other, making their colors resemble a pink sunrise.

“The tulip one?” Lila spoke up, finally finding the courage to look at the man that she had been pushing and pulling with for the past week.

Still after the confirmance of the alibi, she was still up for questioning for a couple of times before they finally decided to drop her as a suspect from the case. The man who mostly interrogated her was the one who was now standing in front of her, taking interest in the work of her own hands and mind.

Lila quickly made her appearance right in front of Changbin, eager to inspect his wishes for the boquet, much like he questioned her, except this was a much more lighthearted discussion for Lila’s mind.

Lila wasn't a full-time worker at Adriana's shop, but trying to be a good friend, she often hopped in to help Adriana during busy hours. Over time, Lila started to catch a grip on it. In bad moments, the two girls would find themselves covered in glue and glitter, smelling like a Lush bath bomb. Adriana noticed Lila's talent, so she decided to display some of her works in the shop, and Lila couldn't be more proud of them.

To her best friend’s surprise, she visibly got rid of all of her fear and dread by the mention of her own little bouqet.

After a minute of debating, the two found their way to the back of the workshop to discuss futher about the decorations.

“Very romantic for a first date.” Adriana chuckled, looking up at the brown-haired man in front of her as she typed in her register, the only thing making her feel at a safe distance from the man in front of her.

“He sure is.” He nodded in agreement. “Oh, I'm Christopher. I think it would be time to finally formally tell you my name.” His hand found itself reaching out to her.

Adriana hesitated before her eyes fell on the growing pink color on his nose. The faint dimple showed on his cheek as his eyes formed creases while he politely smiled

She took his hand into hers, giving it a few shakes. “Adriana. You're the weird shirtless guy, and the detective.”

He let out a laugh as he let go of her hand, nodding his head. “Don't know about the shirtless guy part.” He chuckled once more, rubbing his nose, resulting in the soft color rushing back once more. “Sorry about that, I was having a rough night.”

“No need to apologize to me. You burned yourself.” Adriana turned on her heel, walking to the outside of the counter and plopping herself on a fluffy emerald green couch placed in the corner of the shop. “You can come sit while we wait on those two.”

The pair found themselves in comfortable silence as they waited. Given that the couch wasn't very big, their knees often bumped into each other, causing a fit of quiet 'excuse me's' and 'I'm sorry's'.

In hopes of trying to avoid another awkward memory in the making, the pair found their focus shifting to the small pastel pink radio and the classical music that was coming from it.

“Enemies to lovers. Joshua Kyan Alampour?” He questioned.

“You listen to classical music?”

“Not really, I just know Clair de Lune and this one.” He chuckled. “I’m more of a rap guy, i'd say.”

“Oh, wow,” Adriana nodded, trying not to erupt in laughter by his awful attempt to strike a comfortable conversation. No way he is an actual interrogator. “I don’t think rap would be suitable for this kind of place.”

“Oh definetley not, stick to classical.”

Adriana was biting her lip, trying not to let the bubbling pit of laughter burst out of her, while on the other hand Chris was trying not to bang his head on the nearest coffee table.

Finally, the moments of despair ended, and Lila and Changbin emerged from the colorful door decorations.

“I'm so glad you like it. Have fun on your date.” Lila exclaimed as Adriana joined to greet them out.

“See you around.” Chris turned to send one of those dimpled smiles again, and with the sudden restriction of the possibility to form a functional sentence, Adriana just smiled and nodded goodbye.

The cold winter streets got washed by a wave of rain and wind. The sound of it hitting the ground accompanied by the sound of police sirens and curious groups of neighbours, set the atmosphere of that night. Fourth victim this month. Same settings as always. No forced entry, no sign of any murder weapons, no hopes of Chris ever growing in his bosse's eyes. The police investigation unit had been putting the last few cases as priorities, thinking that maybe this was all a connected act. An act of greed for money, or maybe just pure jealousy, or even just raging partners. The team got called out for yet another eary hour investigation, making Chris curse everyone and anyone that was in charge of distributing cases. He finally managed for once to fall asleep without taking his medication.

The house where the new homocide took place looked monotone as usual, making Chris feel like he got teleported back to the first time he even went on these types of investigations. The floor beneath their feet creaked as groups of forensics and investigators and police hoarded the house, sending comments to eachother every once in a while in hopes of puzzling up a convincing story, but to no avail. Leads were impossible to find and as minutes passed the atmosphere at the crime scene indicated more and more that the only thing they agreed upon that the past few incidents were calculated and connected.

„Do you think somebody was hired to do this?“ A tall man in a white hazard suit spoke up, the suit crincling as he put his hands on his hips.

„Why would anyone spend that much money to kill people like this?“ Changbin answered Hyunjin, widening his arms to point at the state of the house. As usual, the house wasn't very well kept. With empty bottles and various kinds of trash littering the, what seemed like once was, a very light and spacious living room.

Hyunjin shrugged his shoulders. „Debt maybe?“

„Could be, they all seemed to be quite successful at some points in their life. Don't know how that could turn into this.“

A faint sound of moving chairs and the closing and opening of doors could be heard in the background. Hyunjin and Chanbing didn't think to look at the man, figuring he had something mapped out in his mind and that it was best to leave him to it.

„Do you have any connections to the victims?“

Nobody has really came foward about these men. They have gotten a few calls from former employees or from ex-friends, but nothing to make the story significantly change. The girlfriend of the last victim has been ruled out long ago, leaving the case pretty much cold, and by the pace they were going with, it seems like the remaining three ones will end up just the same.

The autopsy report was also long due, looking at the fact that the first body has been sent in for inspection almost a month ago. Without the reports they was nothing they could really do, not knowing the weapon used and not having found one at the crime scenes.

The tensions in the department were heating up. Chris has been assigned to the case for a few weeks now, and by the looks of it, and by the looks that his boss sends his way, he was not in for a good time. Could he potentially be fired? Probably not. Changbin would not let get Chris fired in any book, but was there a chance of him getting landed just heavy paperwork and coffee stains. Very much possible.

The man now inspecting the kitchen floors has working the hardest he had ever been, not even a single peck of dust going unnoticed, and most certanly, not even a small purple petel that had suddenly caught his attention.

It was squished between the cracks of the musty beige tiles of the kitchen floor, leaving some purple pigment smeared across the cold tiles. The glitters from it seemed to be speckled everywhere, from the tiles, all the way leading up to the dining table. It couldn't be that this one tiny thing travelled so far and left such a trail. Chris dug through an archive of memories, trying to remember where exactly he saw that sparkle once before. He twisted the small petal, delicate and vibrant, between his gloved fingertips. It was a dark shade of purple, with a subtle light gradient towards the area where it once used to be connected with the stem.

With a quick whip of his phone, his fingers glided through various apps trying to find the one that would revive his memory, and not long after, a picture of a chucked boquet at an old kitchen counter stood before him.

„I might have found something.“ Chris's voice was finally heard from the next door room, alerting both Changbin and Hyunjin. Soon enough, the suited man found himself next to the investigator, analyzing the small flower remain after snatching it from the investigator at the speed of light. „It's just a rose.“

Leaning over the two men to take a look at the new found item, Changbin cimmed in. „How the hell will that lead to anything?“

„Remember the real estate agent guy, from like a week ago? We saw the same type of flower at his own kitchen. See?“ Chris flashed up his phone of the same flower he took, trigerring a not very amused look on his partner's face.

Changbin wasn't really having any of it, wile on the other hand Hyunjin was quite intrigued by what Chris had to say. After all the pushing and pullin they might have actually found some type of clue that could help them progress, and not spin in circles.

„Wow congradulations, now we can show the jury that if you buy a bouqet of purple roses that look like a unicorn shit on them you might end up getting slashed by the throat.“

Couple of scoffs were heard. „Come on Changbin, don't be an ass. It could really mean something.“ Hyunjin spoke up.

„How the fuck do we go from here, we follow the glitter trail into a fairy killer's house?“ It was visible to the both men that the last couple of weeks took a toll on Changbin aswell. Everyone expected a lot from him and he expected a lot from himself. „Oh or even better, maybe we should send it to the lab to wait another fucking month, and have Hank bickering above my head for the whole week like a fucking seagull.“

Hyunjin sighed once more as his fingers found their way to rub his temples. „You're such a dick these days.“ And with that, Hyunjin left the two men in the kitchen of the crime scene. Changbin knew he was, but the frustrations came over him like an avalanche.

„I know someone I can ask.“ Was the last thing Changbin heard before he was left by himself, surrounded by the familiar yellow markers and a nausious mix of chemicals.

The heavy sounds were muffled by melodic beats, ringing in the ears. Thousands of voices tried to pick the right from wrong, creating a cacophony that drowned out any lost hopes of peace. Thoughts collided, creating a storm too powerful, turning the once melodic rhythmic beats uneven. The storm overcame and swallowed any last bit of clarity. The trees that once grew in the palace of a beautiful mind, planted and left to grow, twisted and turned out of their roots, swallowed by the heart of the storm. One by one, they disappeared.

Eyes shifted from one crimson puddle to another, the scenery resembling a collision of two rivers. The rivers twisted and turned around the room, colors blending with numerous shades of gray, consuming any vibrant speck. Making sense of the surroundings was almost impossible. The body moved on its own, while the mind struggled against a force that wanted total control. This force ordered the body to pick up anything that could potentially give it away, anything that could lead to the destruction of the little paradise the force had created for itself.

Each step was driven by an unseen compulsion, an urgency to erase traces, to cover tracks that could lead to exposure. The air felt thick with tension, every breath heavy with the weight of the task at hand. The rhythmic beats grew more erratic, mirroring the turmoil within. Shadows danced on the walls, fleeting glimpses of a reality that seemed just out of reach.

There was no room for error. The voice echoed, layered, each letter bouncing off the walls. After the final order, it stopped. The limb that once snuffed out the burning candle of life caught a velvety texture. The royal purple splash of vibrance found itself consumed by the crimson river.

The morning was greeted by the sun after the last night's storm, creating a rainbow here and there in the light blue sky. It wasn't a busy morning, so Adriana chose to take it slow and not bombard herself with tasks like she usually did when opening the store. With the ring of a bell, she left the colorful little building and headed over to a small coffee shop right across the street.

"One coffee with milk, please."

The young girl behind the counter flashed Adriana a smile accompanied by a nod. Adriana took a seat in a booth near a window overlooking her store, her eyes darting towards the once snow-covered street. The smell of sweet pastries and brewing coffee calmed her mind. For some reason, her body seemed more tense than usual today, maybe due to a lack of sleep or the stress circulating for the past few weeks.

Closing her eyes, she tried to shake away the chills, but to no avail. A dreading feeling had found a home in the back of her mind. Her body felt dirty, and her mind felt even worse. She dug deep into her memory to find the cause but couldn't even remember coming home. The last thing she recalled was going for a couple of drinks with Lila and her friend at the downtown bar, but that was way before the storm even started, yet somehow, she could still feel the wind and rain hitting her skin. Could it be—no. She would never let that happen again, drunk or sober.

The face of her father flashed before her eyes. The feeling of his fingertips brushing against her bare skin, and that stupid smile as he looked at her with every emotion but the one a loving father should have for his daughter.

Her eyes abruptly opened as her name was called. She quickly gathered her stuff from the booth table and made her way to the counter where two coffee cups were sitting. She reached for the wallet in her purse, counting out the loose change to give to the cashier.

"How much for the both?"

Her head turned to look at the voice behind her, and her eyes met with a familiar pair of light brown orbs.

"Chris?" Her brows shot up at the sight of him. "4.40 for the two coffees."

He flashed her a smile before handing a bill to the cashier. "I went to look for you at the store, then I saw you from the window. I was hoping I could have a chat with you."

"Yeah, sure."

Adriana must admit it was a pleasurable shock to see Chris in front of her, but something told her she wasn't in for a sweet chit-chat. With goodbyes exchanged with the cashier, they exited the sweet-scented coffee shop and made their way to the building across. They both set their belongings on the emerald green couch, the couch where Chris felt his legs were going to give up on him last time he sat there. He knew he had to stay professional today, even though he really wished he had an excuse to talk to her about anything but the cases he was assigned to.

He didn't understand why, but the pure sight of her made some type of feeling wash over him, a feeling of his chest tightening and his brain getting foggy. He must admit to himself that he felt very pathetic to be experiencing this in the presence of a person he saw only three times, two of them being completely awkward, and the third being purely professional. It was like he couldn't help himself but be completely drawn to her. Maybe it was her long chestnut hair, or her piercing eyes that seemed to hold as much wisdom as they did mystery. He couldn't really put his finger on it, but he had to snap out of it. He was talking to her for a reason.

"We can sit and chat here. I usually drink my morning coffee here anyways." She led him through the back door to a tiny porch. It was pretty hidden off, a line of big trees and bushes creating a tall fence around the small garden of the store. On the wooden floor sat a tiny light wood table with two foldable chairs overlooking a row of clay pots waiting to be planted with colorful flowers. The garden was quite lively for this time of year, a few winter-thriving plants occupying their space along with the birds that found their home here.

A tiny greenhouse sat in the corner. He figured that's where she grew most of the flowers she used for her crafts.They placed their coffee cups on the table before a comfortable silence took over for a minute.

It felt absurd to Adriana to let a random man sit with her and drink coffee in her place of peace, but unlike with most strangers, she felt quite comfortable with him. It was odd to her rather than alarming. She was always cautious and observant around strangers; she had to be.

"It's quite chilly," he said, breaking the silence. He took a short sip of his coffee before rubbing his hands together.

"Much less than last night."

"Right, I got called to investigate while it was going on." His lips pressed against the paper cup to take another sip. "Barely came home alive."

A chuckle fell out of Adriana's lips as she took a sip from her own. "Now imagine that but you're drunk and in heels."

A small fit of laughs erupted from both of them. "Who the hell thinks of going out in that weather?"

"Wasn't my choice. Lila needed some company. I wasn't gonna turn her down." She shrugged her shoulders, letting out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

"How is she holding on?"

"She was fine until the funeral. Now she's back at the beginning, it seems."

Chris nodded. He knew it took a long time to get over such a death, especially if it was a close person, but it felt weird how Adriana talked about it with such ease. Surely, they were close. He was her best friend's boyfriend.

"I'm sorry we couldn't come back with any clues. The body was found with a slash over the throat, nothing more nothing less. We asked left and right, and nobody could recall seeing anybody."

She just nodded, not a word escaping her mouth.

She felt weird talking about it, or rather listening. It's not that she felt much dread about the death at this point, but the atmosphere in the air didn't seem to sit right. She waited for him to speak up again, but he didn't. Soon they fell into the same silence once more.

The once excitement to be talking to Christopher turned into pure anxiety, to an extent even fear. She knew he didn't come here for no reason and she anxiously waited for him to bring it up, but he didn't.

She looked over at him. He seemed to be lost in his mind, focused on something. He didn't notice her gaze shift onto him, so she took the chance to admire his features. A voice in her head seemed to be screaming at her to stop, to resist the urge, that it was no use to fall into these feelings, that he's going to hurt her just like the way the man closest to her did. That he is capable of the things both her father and Jaehyun did. But despite the effort, she still focused on the way his brows knit together in thought, and the way his rosy lips puckered out, chapped from the cold and harsh winds.

In her mind, he represented danger. Not the kind of danger she was looking out for in a man, but the kind of danger that seemed to turn off all her sensors. His presence was like the polar opposite of what she was used to. The presence he held was calm, comforting, so intoxicating to her mind.

"How often do you sell those roses?"

Her head snapped toward the direction he was looking.

"Which ones?"

"The purple ones." His eyes seemed to be set on a bush of dark purple roses inside the greenhouse.

"Not very often, I mostly grow them for my own pleasure."

A hum escaped his throat, his eyes not moving even an inch from the dark flowers. "You like them?"

"Do you recall the last time you sold or gave them to someone?"

"I'm not sure. I removed them from the display in the shop not long ago, so probably before then."

"How long ago?"

"Are you interrogating me?"

The sudden change of her tone caused him to finally look away from them, and rather set his eyes on hers. Her gaze seemed to stiffen and her eyebrows furrowed in defense. With another sip of his almost cold coffee, he reached for the phone in his pocket.

"I found this at all of the crime scenes, including the one last night."

A series of pictures of dark petals submerged in a thick red liquid were shown on his phone. Most were just petals, but the one that caught most of Adriana's attention was a bouquet. A sparkly bouquet with dark brown wrapping, words "I miss you" written out in cursive with red ink.

She felt her breath being caught up in her throat. The sight of it sent a painful sensation in her gut, almost like a sharp knife piercing through her. Her vision got blurry as a wave of tears threatened to fall onto the lit-up screen. "No, no, I—"

"I'm not saying that you're the culprit, I just want to know if you recall who you sold these to last." His voice was awfully calm, like trying to calm down a crying child.

Her voice broke as she spoke up. "I made those for my mom last. I took them down after that. I swear to God I'm not the one who did it. I saw those men barely once in my life—"

"You know them?"

She stood still for a second, rewinding her own words, before fully letting the tears slide down her cheeks. To Christopher's surprise, his suspicion of her didn't grow. Instead, his eyes softened at the sight of the girl in front of him. Her cheeks flushed red as her tears fell each second at a more rapid rate, coating her eyelashes with the salty liquid.

"How do you know them?"

He tried to choose his words carefully. He never imagined being in a situation like this with anyone, let alone with her. With every approach he calculated in his mind, he felt like there was nothing he could do to minimize her tears, yet he still tried to soften his voice the best he could.

"I saw them with my dad in meetings sometimes, mostly when I was little. They were all a bunch of scumbags, rich people trying to become richer." Her voice suddenly changed, laced with bitterness.

"Could I perhaps get in contact with your dad or mom then?"

A couple of moments that felt like hours passed before she stood up from her seat, almost knocking down the now cold and unfinished beverage. She slid the glass back door open and entered the store, her heavy and obviously angry footsteps fading away.

He knew he had messed up badly. It was a dumb mistake to pursue this line of questioning alone. He should have brought Changbin with him, someone with more experience. Doing outside work without his boss knowing could easily lead to being fired.

The sound of footsteps grew louder, but he didn't dare to look up, fearing he'd be met with either a slap in the face or with those bright, glossy eyes that tugged at his heartstrings.

"Here is my mom," a voice said.

Chris finally looked up, his eyes widening at the sight before him.

Forever in our memory, Anita Lee. 1979-2022.

"The dad is at the graveyard, search for the name Leon."

"Isn't it weird though?" Changbin sat on the edge of the table, eyeing Chris who remained motionless, the only sound in the room the tapping of a pencil on the armrest of Chris's chair.

"Those damn flowers don't grow at this time of year, and she told you herself that she made the bouquet," Changbin continued, frustration creeping into his voice as Chris remained unresponsive.

With a heavy sigh, Changbin slid off the table. "Should I talk to her?"

"No," Chris replied curtly.

"Oh, come on now," Changbin exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Chris knew the aftermath if the word got out within the unit that he had spoken to Adriana privately. Someone was bound to draw a connection between her and the murders, and just the thought of it sent a chill down his spine. Part of him feared it might be possible, but another part, the emotional part, screamed that she couldn't possibly be capable of such acts. She seemed so... harmless.

"A young girl that works at a flower shop kills four men in their own homes with no forced entry, and no murder weapon. You sound stupid, Bin," Chris muttered, rubbing his temples.

"You're the one being stupid, firstly by going to talk to her before informing anybody, and secondly by being so fucking oblivious," Changbin retorted, pacing in circles around Chris's desk.

Chris sighed, realizing Changbin wasn't going to drop the topic easily. Changbin finally stopped pacing and pulled a chair from a nearby desk, positioning it in front of Chris.

"How about this. I don't tell anyone about your little private investigation, and you let me come with you," Changbin proposed, leaning forward with a serious expression.

"No chance," Chris replied firmly.

Without another word, Changbin stormed off towards Hank's office, clearly intent on taking matters into his own hands, or better yet, to force Chris into submission.

Chris scrambled to his feet, hurrying after Changbin. "Wait, hold on."

Changbin stopped abruptly, turning to face Chris with a raised eyebrow.

"I could use the backup," Chris admitted reluctantly.

Changbin smirked at the response he knew he was going to get either way. "I knew you'd surrender so easily.”

„Adriana. Adriana what the fuck?“ A loud and terrified voice screamed, but there was nobody in sight.

Silence.

„Adriana please, you're scaring me.“ There it is again, louder this time.

„Lila?“

„Adriana please, put that down.“ Louder. She knows too much.

„Wake up, please.“ Louder. She is going to give us away.

„I beg you, please.“ You have the rose in your bag. Just kill her already.

Silence.

„What the absolute fuck is wrong with you?“ A voice screamed, as the scene in front finally cleared.

Lila stood in front of her, a completley unreadable expression plastered on her face. It was like a mix of terror and relief in one. She looked around. Lila's kitchen?

„What the fuck?“

„Yeah, what the fuck is right. Put that shit down.“

Only when Lila grabed the object from her hand, she realised what she was holding.

„When the fuck did you get the idea to sleepwalk into my fucking kitchen and start banging your head, with a fucking knife in your hand?“ Lila's screams got louder than before, clearly fear masked by anger overcoming her senses.

She opened her mouth to say a word, but nothing came out. Absoutley nothing. The only thing she could do is cry. She doesn't even know why she was crying, or how she got there in the first place, but the tears rolled down like a waterfall.

„I'm so sorry,“ Were the only words Adriana said through tears before she stormed out of the apartment.

This was his second pack of the day. Actually, maybe even third. He couldn't be bothered to count at this point. With the flick of the lighter he inhaled the deadly smoke once more.

Thankfully the weather was calm tonight, maybe too calm for his liking.

With the year being over, the department had an annual meeting about how everyone was progressing in their path, or in other words, public bullying. At least it seemed like that to Chris.

After an underwhelming review that Hank announced to the whole department about Chris, he decided to try to get his mind off of things with a short walk. That short walk turned into a two-hour sitting session by the sea with a pack of cigarettes and two bottles of cheap beer. He thought of inviting Changbin, but by the end of the meeting he figured he would rather let him celebrate with his girlfriend rather than drink his boredom away with him; after all, the other cases Changbin had been assigned to, other than the ones with him, had been successful.

They did find some information, but nothing significant to the case, but more about Adriana's father. They decided to snoop around and ended up finding some news articles about her dad. He was a highly respected man, a business owner. Neither Adriana nor her mother were mentioned anywhere in the articles, but a weird piece of information did get noticed. Supposedly, he died at the start of last year, and by the looks of it, nobody knows how. There were no signs of struggle on his body, and no culprit in mind. In the pictures of the funeral, there were no family members, or in other words, no Adriana. The articles suspected it might have been either an alcohol or drug overdose.

Nothing about her mother was found either, and despite Chris's attempts to gather Adriana's phone number from the records, she was never picking up his calls.

He came to a point where he didn't even know what he was searching for. Was it information to catch the killer, or to frame Adriana? Probably not the second one. Firstly, he didn't want to think about that even being a possibility, and secondly, it was absurd to think a flower from the local and only flower shop in town would automatically make the owner the killer. As sure as Changbin was that something might be up with her, to Chris all he heard from him was nonsense.

He took a sip of his beer, deciding to focus on the sound of crashing waves rather than the shit his mind was trying to come up with.

Taking a deep breath, he scouted the beach. The moonlight above made the sand light up like thousands of diamonds. Furthering his gaze, he caught a glimpse of a silhouette sitting on a bench, a couple of meters away from where he was laying on the sand. The light breeze combed the silhouette's hair as the moonlight drew lines of their nose and chin. She looked like a painting from that far away.

The silhouette's hands made their way to her face, seemingly to wipe something off. Tears, perhaps.

She stayed still for a moment—a moment that felt like days—before catching her face in her hands and bursting into tears. The sobs wouldn't be so loud if it wasn't the dead of night, and awfully quiet to begin with.

He decided he would rather leave her alone, figuring his presence would just be a bigger burden for the girl. That was until her voice managed to say something in between sobs. Hold on.

„Adriana?“

She didn't seem to stop crying, but she lifted her head towards the voice. A familiar feeling of shame washed over her once she realized whose eyes she had met. The shame that always manifested itself when she was crying in front of someone.

„You alright?“

It was a stupid question. Of course she wasn't. She was choking on her own tears, for fuck's sake. He decided to get up, step by step coming closer to her. The only thing she could reply with was her head shaking no.

„I get that we're not friends or anything, but you can tell me if you want.“

He was now sitting next to her, closer than usual.

Keep your mouth shut

With a sniff and a wipe of her tears, she cleared her throat. „It's just my mom.“

She didn't understand why she was saying that. Maybe deep down inside, she thought he would view her differently, maybe even as crazy. Even if she really wanted to, she couldn't form the words to explain to him what had just actually happened. It was like something was screaming at her, threatening.

„You miss her?“

She didn't answer, but rather burst into tears once more. Not because they were mentioning her mother, but because she couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth.

He felt his heart shatter at the sight of her. He couldn't shake the urge to reach out for her cheek, to wipe away the tears that escaped her light eyes. Maybe that was crossing the line. Maybe this wasn't the right time. He could potentially make the situation even worse. He quickly pulled back the hand that had started to reach for her tears.

Her head started to pound. She couldn't understand her behavior, and it made her want to scream at the top of her lungs. His presence was so calming, but her mind was like a storm. She really had hoped he could be someone she would let her walls fall down for, the one that would know her more than anyone, even Lila.

„Yeah, I miss her, a lot,“ she croaked out.

His eyes stayed focused on her, watching how her chest moved, how she wiped her cheek every now and then, and how her gaze never left the scene in front to look at him.

„Come with me.“ He extended his hand for her to take. Finally taking her gaze off the ocean, she looked up at him. She tried to focus on his features through her blurry vision, how his dark hair perfectly complemented his pale complexion, how his eyes creased at the corners, and how his lips curved slightly upwards.

Soon, her soft fingertips made contact with his. He pulled her up from the bench with a light tug.

Maybe it was an act of loneliness from both sides, or maybe it was that they found peace in each other, but for the whole walk across the beach, neither one of them disconnected their hands from one another's.

Chris led Adriana to a secluded spot above the beach, almost like a cliffside that looked over the shore. The place was well hidden behind some trees, and it seemed quite tricky to get to, but he managed to help her climb all the slippery and stern pathways.

The place itself was made of smooth, weathered rocks, their surfaces polished by years of relentless waves and wind. They formed a natural seat, comfortably wide and just the right height to sit on and dangle your feet above the beach. Patches of moss and tiny, tenacious plants clung to the crevices, adding a touch of green to the grey stone.

Empty bottles were scattered around them, remains of past visitors who had discovered this hidden gem, and also the remains of their own. The only noises heard were their own laughter, mingling with the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore below.

Chris opened another beer and handed it to Adriana, who took it with a tipsy smile. "Cheers," he said, clinking his bottle gently against hers. The moonlight above made the moment feel almost surreal, casting a silvery glow over everything.

Adriana took a sip and sighed, her shoulders relaxing a little. "How did you even find this place? I feel like I should deserve a medal for even climbing all the way here."

Chris shrugged, looking out at the vast expanse of the ocean. "Needed a place to clear my head one day so I wandered around and stumbled upon it."

She nodded, staring at the horizon. "It's peaceful up here."

For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the weight of their own respective burdens momentarily lifted. The tranquility of the place seemed to work its magic, easing the tension that had gripped Adriana's heart.

Chris glanced at her, his gaze softening. "You know, I don't wanna push your buttons or anything, but why aren't your dad and mom buried together?"

Adriana's eyes didn't well up with tears this time. It took her a moment to form her words, but that only made the boy's body tense up.

"My dad was an asshole."

He stayed still at her words, not wanting to disturb her train of thought.

"He was pretty, let's just say, agressive-" She took a deep breath before continuing. "He killed my mom in a burst of anger."

There it was again, that heavy, unsettling atmosphere. The train of words suddenly woke up Chris's tipsy mind, making him feel like he just got slapped in the face with a cold wet towel. "I, I'm so sorry for asking."

"Chris, it's fine. I'm coping, see?" She tried to crack out a smile while picking up the half-drunk bottle of beer, wiggling it in front of his face.

As she put the bottle back down in its place, she kept her eyes to it while carefully placing it down, "He got home drunk one night after going out with his business partners for a few drinks, some were the ones that got killed not long ago. He got mad at my mother for some stupid fucking reason and slashed her throat with a pair of kitchen scissors."

Chris felt a wave of nausea mixed with sorrow wash over him. It was his job to listen and see these kinds of situations, but now that she was there in front of him talking about her own family, it felt like a completely different situation. It's like his professional part of the brain that was supposed to be intrigued by those stories got turned off, and replaced with pure sorrow. "Jesus, Adriana... that's..."

"Yeah," she interrupted, her voice steady despite the heaviness of her words. "He never got to pay for his actions, well, he did pay with his money. He bribed the police, there was nothing I could do about it."

Chris didn't know what to say. The weight of her story hung in the air between them. He wanted to comfort her, to say something that would make it better, but he knew there were no words that could heal those wounds. Instead, he just squeezed her hand gently.

Adriana looked at him, a stern expression still glued to her face, despite feeling her jaw relax by the sudden contact. "I guess someone took the situation into their own hands, one day I just got a phone call that he died, I don't even know how. I couldn't really be bothered to give a fuck either."

Chris stared at her, his mind racing. He wondered if her father's death was linked to the recent murders. There were too many coincidences, too many connections. "Do you think... do you think the same person who killed your dad might be involved in these recent murders?"

Adriana shook her head, her eyes distant. "I don't know, Chris. Maybe. But whoever it was, they did me a favor."

He nodded in response, emptying out his sixth bottle of the night. "Did he hurt you?"

"That night? No. But he did do some things when I was little." She felt the words come out so naturally. It wasn’t usual for her to talk about what she went through with her father, but the mix of booze and quietness made her speak before she could think, yet still managing to avoid bringing up the reason that resulted in them sitting together like this.

The boy’s ears perked up. Like a bullet his head shot towards her, eyes widened like an owl. “No fucking way-„

You're giving us away

A searing pain stabbed through Adriana's head like a hot needle, causing her to cry out and clutch her head in agony. Panic started spreading through her body like venom, distorting her vision and making her ears ring. The world around her spun uncontrollably.

"Adriana!" Chris exclaimed, his voice filled with concern and urgency. He knelt beside her, gently trying to support her as she trembled in pain. "Adriana, what's happening? Talk to me."

Get away from him

Adriana's mind felt like a chaotic storm, every step pounding in rhythm with the searing pain that lanced through her head. Despite Chris's desperate calls, she couldn't stay still. Her body moved on its own accord, driven by a force she couldn't name.

Chris watched in shock as Adriana bolted away from him, her figure disappearing into the darkness between the trees. "Adriana, wait!" he shouted, scrambling to his feet and running after her. It was like a demon possessed her. Did he once again step over the line he swore he would not cross again?

He followed the path she had taken, his heart pounding with worry and confusion. "Adriana, please," he called out again, hoping she would hear him, hoping she would stop.

Despite his efforts, she was long gone.

“Shit.”

His fingertips found their way to tug at the strands of his brown locks. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? His slow steps brought him back to the scattered bottles.

A tiny purse laid on the cold ground, the ground where Adriana was sitting just minutes before something took over her.

#stray kids #bang chan #christopher bang #changbin #hyunjin #bangchan x reader #bangchan x you #bangchan x female reader #skz #skz x reader #bangchan x y/n

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voidedaurora · 4 months ago

Text

Alrighty guys, Since she decided to get her friend Gaia in the mix and write a big document stressing "LEGAL INFO LEGAL INFO LEGAL INFO " and didn't even really say much about the screenshots I provided (and when they did it was "omg look she's pressuring her to apologize for being horrible to people") which is crazy on its own, Overall her response is JUST as bad as I thought it would be and I have no choice but to prove my point by sharing alot of blatantly sexual texts/interactions :,) didn't want to do this for the privacy of everyone involved but she's currently trying to make herself into a victim and that is absolutely NOT what happened Alrighty then. sorry Mel but you've genuinely brought this upon yourself by being a lying piece of shit and trying to be the victim in every situation, you are a vile person Clover's messages will be censored/blocked out unless they absolutely need to be there for context

Context may be added to some screenshots to make sure they are not interpreted a different way TW: Sexual topics, coercion, S/A, general toxicity Firstly I'm going to go through a bit of their doc and what Mel apparently was "thinking" during this whole thing happening

Clover and I never pressured, forced, repetitively insisted on, or anything else of the sort towards Mel and us all having "group activity" , Clover and I only were comfortable/did any of this to begin with to her to help her heal from her own sexual trauma, she was our friend and she had mentioned alot how it affected her and how she couldn't do "stuff" on her own, we essentially extended a helping hand that she did NOT have to take and had every opportunity and right to say no or back out at any point, we made that very clear to her. (2nd time) Her randomly letting us know she was horny/going to jackoff [please note that alot of what I said towards her was playful banter and not any attempts to coerce or force her into doing it]

Skipped a bit of irrelevant convo (was mostly just laughing/Lmao's and doesn't add to the convo at all)

Skipped a bit more irrelevant convo (to clarify if anyone needs the in-betweens I'm more than willing to provide, there's just a limit to what I can put in a tumblr post)

As you can see with just this instance by itself, she was a willing participant and nobody pressured her into anything.

She could theoretically claim "they pressured me in vc" but just by using the context of these screenshots and her behavior AFTER we all fucked you can tell she wasn't in any distress or anything, actively making doodles about it and such. I'd like to state that even if what she is saying is true and she didn't want to do any of that with us that it doesn't change anything, it doesn't change the fact she lied about it being mutual to get into my pants, and It doesn't change the fact of it being assault. Additionally, the point I am making is not lack of consent that makes it assault, we all consented at the time BUT the important part of that is the fact that she'd lied to gain that consent and later admitted so to me personally.

What Gaia wrote in the doc is indeed the definitions for coercion and assault BUT context is just as important, in situations like this if someone lies to you to get you to have sex or anything of that nature with them it is coercion and assault I and many others consider what Mel did Assault and I think that theoretically within a court of law this same conclusion could be reached, especially with the context I've provided. You should agree shouldn't you? context is very important.

Furthermore If she continues to deny all of this and make excuses, I am more than willing to provide more context, more screenshots, and more proof backing up how willing she was. (I'll share the 1st instance which was a lot more sexually charged, along with some other personal things) I am not going to let her deny this and make herself out to be a victim, she needs to take responsibility for once and admit what she's done. Aswell, I don't believe she addressed the fact that she told me she'd only done things as a group to do things with me in that response. Here's some things to mention within your own document that support what I've claimed aswell

as stated here, what mel did would fall under trickery.

I will state once again, none of this is out of spite, I'm not out to "get" mel, this isn't a overreaction or me spreading false information specifically to make her look bad just because we aren't friends anymore, its none of that.

All of this is things I (once again) stayed quiet about for a very long time and am only now coming out about because of the events that have gone on, I have no reason to keep it private anymore and she has proven (once again) she's willing to lie and lie to cover her ass. With the situation about the apologies

There is alot of things wrong with this statement, Firstly she did NOT only apologize for the public discourse it created she apologizes for multiple things within this doc including the ones below (I say she apologized in airquotes because she didn't write any of these apologies as we all know) Here's a few relevant separate apologies within the doc that aren't just troubling the public 1. response

2. apologizing for spreading misinfo about RED/MAGENTA

3. Apologizing for the drawings she made of her and EX being all lovey as their child selves

4. death threat apology for EX

5. Honest (video) apology

She did not JUST apologize for the public, she also offered personal apologies within the doc that obviously were not written herself and were not in any way, shape, or form genuine thoughts or feelings of hers, I think the screenshots in my previous post are more than enough proof. I'd like to also make a point that I know what Khai, Mel, and her friends/fans have all been saying about this whole thing in her server. Everyone, especially Mel and Khai/s attitude towards this entire thing absolutely disgusts me and proves just how bad you all actually are. If anyone in her server that's participated in making fun of me, the claims, etc. are seeing this right now then please stay safe and I hope you all become better less vile people. Absolutely wild that when Mel made her s/a claim even though she never provided a lick of proof everyone supported her but the second I open up about Clover and I/s experiences I have to violate our privacy to try and prove my words are true. Don't get me wrong, I have had people support us, and I'm extremely greateful for that fact, but knowing people are making fun of me for speaking up about this? Calling me crazy because of my bpd? Literally disgusting Not to mention initially when they all first told everyone "hey no misinfo! not true! wait for mels side!" none of them had actually read the doc and assumed I was talking about something else (guilty conscience I guess) That is all I have to say for now, if more evidence is demanded I can provide, I am extremely uncomfortable and honestly angry that I had to share any of this to begin with but it was to be expected with her denying everything once again, so sorry for this possibly not being written and formatted the best, I'm not a professional and I just wanted to speak on what's gone on. If anyone has any questions, there's something I didn't address, you need anything clarified/want to see the missing screenshots, have something to say, or anything else you are free to send an ask or possibly dm me on discord (mostly try and ask for stuff through asks but if you need to dm its ok!) Edit: since I've also caught wind of people being like "omg this should've been handled in private" I gave her 3 months to handle this in private and she refused to come to me to clear things up, apologize, or take accountability, seeing some of these people following her blindly when she's done NOTHING to refute any of my claims, no evidence, nothing is absolutely beyond disappointing , im not going to force anyone to believe me nor can I but I have every right to speak about all of this since nobody will ever get closure and what mel has done/does is not ok and hasn't been for a very long time. Edit #2: aswell for the people saying that the screenshots aren't proof of s/a, you are correct! that is not what the screenshots were for, the screenshots were to refute the claim that she was pressured and was an unwilling participant, I cannot prove what mel said to me (aka, the her admitting that she only slept with both of us to sleep with me) because it was said in a vc but I am providing literally everything I can and have been providing extensive amounts of context, proof, and information to back up what I've been saying Hopefully you decide to tell the truth mel

#🍉#Quartelz

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toomuchracket · 2 months ago

Note

i know we've talked about jealous office nerd but what about girlie? like imagine they ran into his ex or a girl tried to flirt w him or smth

the girl who gets a trial week at the magazine before marianne decides if she wants to hire her - you're not particularly bothered initially when it transpires she's an art writer and thus will be in your and matty's department, but when she LATCHES onto your boyfriend and the questions go from "so is this word limit, like, set in stone? i just have so much to say" at the start of the week to "you know how i've written for frieze? well, i have an in at the team running the art fair, and i think you should come with me this weekend - they've given me a hotel suite we could stay in" at the end of the week... you can't even hear matty's reply from the desk across from yours because your rage is making the blood pump faster into your ears, and luke from film reviews just slides you a pack of cigs and whispers "i think you should maybe go and have one of these. you look murderous, mate" lmfao. but he doesn't have a light on him, so you actually do need to go up to matty and cut the girl off (while blatantly ignoring her) to say "matthew, i need to borrow your lighter" and respond "nope" when he offers to come for a cig too; you're not annoyed at him per se, other than the fact he hasn't told the girl he's with you (although tbf you don't tend to with new people for a minute, because you want to make the magazine seem strictly professional lmao), you just need to decompress alone. you do tell marianne what just happened, when you run into her on her way in, and she just rolls her eyes like "for fuck's sake. don't worry, her work's shit, we're not keeping her on. and don't worry about matty, either - he loves you, babe, and he's not about to throw that away for the frieze fucking art fair". she's right, of course - you don't know what he told the girl, but when you go back in matty moves to sit next to you and asks "can you take a look at this for me, please?", and on his laptop screen is a word doc saying "i love you. sorry about her. i didn't know how to nip her flirting in the bud without being a dick/ruining the professional relationship, and she took it too far. obv i'm not going with her to frieze (this year looks really shit anyway, would've taken you otherwise) and i told her the hotel room thing was inappropriate. and then i didn't hear any of what she said because i got distracted thinking about the inappropriate things we got up to in hotel rooms and also i booked a night away for us tonight so we can recreate them lol. but yes i love you so much xx". it's actually so cute, and you nod at him like "yeah. let me just..." and add a reply like "i love you too. just got a bit upset seeing her like that with you. but i'm sure you'll cheer me up at the hotel xo"; i mean, you do inadvertently end up edging him while you wank him off when you get there, just grumbling about the girl so much you stop moving ("'ohhhhh look at meeeee i've written for frieze ooh!!' i could fucking write for frieze if i wanted. she's not special" and matty's crying desperate to cum nodding like "you definitely could, baby, you're such a good writer FUCK please please just let me cum" lmfao), and while matty's fucking you you're giving it "nobody else feels as good as me, do they, baby? nobody else you wanna fuck, is that right? just me. you're mine, and i'm yours" and he's moaning into your mouth like "just you, only want you, only NEED you. love of my life". it turns a bit sweet at that point, honestly, murmured i love yous and kisses and all that, but it's still a dirty, dirty fuck that ends with cum in you and on you and matty practically passed out from how hard he went to prove you were the only one for him. kinda obsessed actually <3

#and you never see her again!#mads answers asks #matty asks #fluff asks #smutty asks #office nerd au

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tigertofu · 1 year ago

Text

ok i've been chipping away at this Thing for a long time and i think it's finally ready to be vomitted out into the internet. without further ado, here is my

Stupid-Long List of Trevor Headcanons

divided into chronological sections !

((the NSFW shit is hiding at the bottom))

CW's for: mentions of drugs/alcohol, addiction, cannibalism, violence, gross sex stuff. typical Trevor things

and heres a gif of him cuz ig thats the tumblr thing to do idk i never made one of these lists b4 :x

the past

• he's a scorpio and the reason he has a scorpion tat on his hand is bc he's like. very mildly into horoscopes. he was born some time in november

• he doesn't have a middle name cuz his mom didn't give enough of a shit to give him one

• despite playing hockey and golf as a kid, he was never really that into the sports themselves. he only did hockey because he saw it as a way to beat up other children and not get reprimanded for it, and he did both in the hopes of being good enough at something to earn his mother's praise for once (it did not work :()

• hates his dad bc of how he treated his mom and is glad he abandoned him at that shopping mall when he was a kid

• he (w/ Brad's help) would play "pranks" on (aka BULLY) poor Lester during the north yankton days. some fav pastimes included (but were not limited to): pantsing him, hiding his walking cane, and replacing his asthma medication with laughing gas

• was highkey jealous of how easy Michael could get girls during the north yankton days. when he actually was able to convince a girl to come back home with him, he would make sure to be loud as hell about it so that Mike would know he wasn't the only one getting chicks

• all of his hand tats and a lot of his other tats were done in prison, even tho he was only in for like 6 months

• prison was a mixed bag for him. on one hand, anal. on the other, having to restrain himself from arguments and physical altercations so he could get out early on good behavior

• went thru a breakdancing phase in the 90's (i THINK this one might be canon. idk. could've sworn i've heard him try to tell Lamar this in an attempt to impress him. pls feel free to prove me wrong or right)

• one of the scars on his eyebrows is actually the result of getting a fresh eyebrow piercing ripped tf out during a barfight in the 00's. prob for the best that it was cuz we all know that shit wouldve ended up getting infected and rejecting out of his face anyways

• he moved to Sandy Shores not just because it's nice and isolated, but because it was the place most opposite of north yankton he could think of. never any snow. he absolutely fucking hates cold weather and snow because it reminds him of a certain bank heist that happened in '04

• between Ron, Chef, and Wade, Chef was the first one he met after moving to Sandy Shores. they used to cook meth together in a trailer out in the desert (another one that i THINK is canon but im not sure idk. it all blurs together, idk whats canon and whats not anymore, my brain is too rotted from spinning Trevor around in it like the world's most dried out little shriveled husk of a rotisserie chicken for the past three years, the fog is coming, yk how it is)

• he acquired Liquor Ace the same way he "acquired" the Vanilla Unicorn. the previous owner just mysteriously disappeared one day. nobody in Sandy Shores cared tho once word got around that the new owner was gonna start cooking crystal in the upstairs and selling it

• yk how in the game he said that his heart momentarily stopped once cuz he put an axe thru a power cable? he did that cuz the power had gone out in the middle of him watching an Impotent Rage episode he hadn't seen yet. for some reason (was prob very high and very angry) he thought that he could bring the power back by hitting the sparking wire with an axe. it didnt work. he smelled like overcooked bacon for a week afterwards. he enjoyed that part tho

the present

• he makes Ron cut his hair with a pair of rusty kitchen scissors when he needs a trim. he used to go to the nice barber lady in Sandy Shores but got banned after loudly moaning about how good her nails felt on his scalp once

• once smoked an entire cigarette in one long inhale. Wade witnessed this and found it extremely impressive

• he'll eat pretty much anything but he especially likes foods with strong flavors. salty, sour, super sweet, spicy, etc cuz his taste buds are SHOT from the years of smoking/drug abuse. he abuses condiments, especially hot sauce

• thinks that any restaurant that doesn't have a drive-thru is a "fancy" restaurant

• LOVES candy cuz the meth has given him a major sweet tooth, but prefers anything with chocolate over fruity/gummy candies

• has a weird fascination with eating raw meat.....of any kind. except for sushi. he thinks sushi is "fancy prissy city people food"

• also has a weird fascination with making stews/soups similar to the eyelid one that he tries to feed Michael in that one cutscene. it's the only type of food he knows how to cook. may be a comfort thing for him because microwaving a bowl of canned soup was the most effort his mother ever put into making a meal for him when he was a kid. and she did it like, twice, maybe. he for sure remembers both times very clearly tho and considers them to be some of his fondest memories

• will go for days without eating anything solid before finally sitting down and consuming enough food to feed a family of 5. sometimes he just like. forgets that eating is necessary for survival

• can open beer bottles with his teeth. between that and the meth habit, its an absolute miracle he still has all his teeth

• go-to pizza order is a large meat lover's. he tries to make vaguely sexual passes about "loving large meat" at the poor pizza delivery guys every time he orders delivery. does not tip, but will say shit like "hey, if you come inside i've got a little tip for ya" while the delivery guy quickly vacates the premises

• honestly? i think there is a good 50/50 chance on whether or not he is ACTUALLY a cannibal. maybe he posters as one cuz he likes the reactions it incites, maybe he genuinely enjoys the psychosexual intimacy of consuming the flesh of another human being........ who knows !! not knowing is half the fun :)

• ok ok hear me out u know that stupid tiktok sound that was going around a couple years ago that goes "hi my name is carmen winstead -- HAAAAAHHHGGCHH" ??? look it up if u don't cuz that's what his snoring sounds like. the fucking "HAAAAAHHHGGCHH"

• once he's asleep he is out like a fucking light. guy could sleep thru nuclear war

• is not opposed to drinking hand sanitizer when out of other sources of alcohol. it tastes just like the shitty moonshine Ron makes in his backyard anyways and gets him even drunker so why not !

• hates horror films bc they make him angry. at least, any of the ones where somebody survives at the end. thinks the murderers in them are stupid. starts yelling shit at the TV like "HE'S GETTING AWAY YOU STUPID FUCK,, WHAT ARE YOU DOING !!!!"

• believes baby pink and orange are "his colors"

• will sit on his sofa or bed and try to shoot any cockroaches scurrying around his place with a pistol for funsies when bored sometimes

• enjoys playing darts at the Yellow Jack with anyone who'll play him but absolutely fucking sucks at it cuz of his shaky hands. accidentally threw a dart into another bar patron's head once. will rage and insist his opponent cheated when he loses. will then get physical if anyone tries to tell him its impossible to cheat at darts. is much less of a sore loser when playing with Mike, Frank, or Lamar tho he will still grumble about losing for up to hours on end afterwards

• is an illegal immigrant bc he never became a US citizen. does not own an actual ID, but has several fakes lying around, all with fake birth dates and fake names that are wildly varying levels of believable

• will absolutely flip his fucking lid if Wade comes around him while wearing Juggalo face paint

• speaking of Wade. yk how he has a shitty tattoo of his own name on his arm? (at least i think he does. i tried looking to see if he does and i couldnt tell so now im unsure if thats just yet another detail that my brain completely made up or smth that i actually saw). ANYWAYS, Trevor gave it to him (stick n poke. it was a longggg process but Wade didnt mind too much cuz he was high at the time and consented to it beforehands anyways) when Trevor first "took him in" cuz he kept forgetting his name and got tired of referring to him as "Hey, you" (which Wade did not respond to most of the time anyways)

• is an ugly crier. like, a butt-ugly crier. snot, drooling, wailing, red face, the whole nine yards and he is loud as hell about it too

• loves back rubs cuz ofc he does he's an old man. often makes Ron or Wade give him massages

• his boomer-ass super-zoomed-in LifeInvader profile pic was taken by Ron. it took them a dozen tries before they got it

nsfw

• he sucks at eating out.........kinda? but what he lacks in precision and consistency he makes up for with sheer (sloppy. slobbery) passion. and endurance. can stay down there (and will, if you let him) for hours

• is not much better at blowing. "accidentally" uses too much teeth every time

• ~4 inches. MAYBE 4.5. good girth tho. not cut

• has a thing for chubby/thicc ppl

• is a biter and won't ask before biting so uhh watch out ! part of the reason for the above is bc there's more to bite

• loooooves loves loves to suck on things. fingers, necks, tits, dicks, anything. also looooooves having it reciprocated. particularly likes shoving his fingers in your mouth

• loves to involve mouths as much as possible. spitting/being spat on, the aforementioned biting as well as being bitten, eating food off of your body or having food eaten off of him, the type of makeout sessions that involve shoving each other's tongues down each other's throats.. anything that involves mouths and/or the motions of eating drives him fucking wild

• will beg you even when not explicitly told to when he's not feeling dominant. will beg and beg and beg and beg and it's hot but can also quickly become incredibly annoying

• but he LOVES to be annoying on purpose too. via the begging, or by teasing/edging, mocking, etc. loves to get a rise out of you and loves the attention (even if negative.. ESPECIALLY if negative) it gets him

• occasionally cries after sex. will expect you to hold him while he does. will start to angry cry and say you don't actually love him if you refuse

• now ik this one is nothing groundbreaking and seems to already be the general consensus amongst the Trevor enjoyers but im gonna say it anyways. he def has a thing for public/semi-public sex. be careful about sitting next to him while in any public space. he WILL try to touch on you and it WILL be in a way that makes it obvious to everyone in the immediate vicinity what's going on. does he do it on purpose as an exhibition thing? maybe...... does he genuinely think he's being slick about it? also maybe. if ur with him, expect to be banned from multiple establishments

• lowkey has a breeding kink in the sense that he loves to finish inside (not just bc it feels nice but also bc of the intimacy of it) and thinks that pregnant women are hot as hell

• is most likely infertile due to the years of meth use tho

• loves to both overstimulate and be overstimulated. just bc you've both climaxed doesnt mean he wont keep going for god-knows-how-long

..................andd that's all she (i) wrote. ty for reading !! i've got more shit to say about Trevor cuz ofc i do but this is already like 2k words so if u wanna hear my headcanons on anything specific at all,, pls do throw it in my ask box ! <33

#trevor philips #trevor philips headcanons #gta v #trevor philips/reader #trevor philipsxreader #gtav #gta 5 #gta5 #gtav headcanons #gta headcanons #headcanons

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listleven · 2 months ago

Text

The power of you, part 1:

Story time edition

Lets say Sandra wanted to manifest waking up in the void. She goes online and over consumes a lot of shit. Discouraged she gives up. You see, she has a shitty life, bullied at school, nobody at home, etc. The void was supposed to be her escape.

Also I wanted to bring up Sandra was experimenting before manifesting the void. She wanted to manifest an A+ to prove to herself she could apply loa, and thought if anything is possible than this can be too. While she's not wrong. She did put her desire on a pedestal. She tried to play it off as something casual but girly has been through it. Now we all know what happens when you put your desire on a pedestal. This is not to say you can't manifest with a bad self concept, its to say that if Sandra persisted in her power she would've gotten the A+ first time but constantly she went back to the old story. Let us learn from Sandra and persist until we know, and then persist in knowing only, not feeling.

So now having failed at manifesting before Sandra didn't wake up in the void as she affirmed too.

Or so the 3D said.

Sandra doesn't know how to not feel doubt. Sandra doesn't know I know this life hack. From now on Sandra can't have any negative thoughts unless she contradicts them with positive ones. From now on Sandra can only see her A. Sandra tells me a day later that she stills feels doubt. I tell her she's all powerful if she's feeling doubt she can just affirm that her manifestation is inevitable not even her doubts can stop it. She does this whenever she thinks about her manifestation. She affirms she woke up in the void in the morning. She does this until its all she knows. She does this until her subconscious is impressed and now she's a void master!! And her A+ bold as ever.

This all is just to say Doubt is ok. As long as you don't affirm it and if you do contradict it. Your in control. If you dont believe in yourself that's fine. You just have to understand your power and how inevitable it is. You can manifest anything. You have manifested everything. Everything you want is already yours, you dont have to believe it you have to affirm it until its all you know. You can believe anything but if you don't apply what the point. You can think working out will get you slim but if you don't work out then what's the point. Not that the previous statement is true you don't need to work out to lose weight guys. This is why belief is not important. When you repeat something to yourself enough it will become a belief. LOA is real by now we all know that, to master it, it takes a bit of practice, perseverance, and even patience. I built this blog to explain LOA in the most loving way I can. Because I've been there but now I've seen enough to know that you're not special. The law isn't exclusive to you.

Part Two soon.

~ With Love, Jyspire

#loa blog #loa tumblr #loablr #loass #loassblog #loassumption #4d reality #loa #self concept #love #self love

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not-goldy · 3 months ago

Note

I mean, forget Jimin stans for a sec. Even tkkrs and Jungkook stans think Jungkook doesn't like Jimin. They are convinced. And the fandom until the very end thought Tae-kook would enlist together and were surprised when it was Jikook enlisting together.

Everyone out there acknowledges that Tae likes Jimin, they acknowledge Suga/RM/jhope/Jin like Jimin. But Jungkook?

Never seen anyone in the fandom question if Jungkook likes Tae or not. Or if he likes the other members or not. But when it comes to Jimin, even non shippers aren't very sure about how Jungkook feels. I have tons of non shipper army moots on my second account and most of them think JK isn't close with Jimin.

If there are so many people who don't think Jungkook likes Jimin even as a friend and bandmate, then that's on Jungkook, his behaviour, his words, his actions towards Jimin.

Cause no one says Jimin doesn't like Jungkook. Jimim has always made it clear he likes all the members.

JK doesn't have to prove anything to Jimin stans. I agree. But if he can't prove to Jimin he likes him, then that's a problem. I don't blame Jimin for detaching himself and going about his path.

Yea they focus on whether or not he likes Jimin because that issue was once a big deal between Jimin and Jungkook.

Had Jimin not vocalized his concerns I don't think anyone would have had an occasion to use that against them to begin with.

He is the one who kept saying JK didn't like him and what not. And to me it's no different from Yoongi who was also saying he liked Jimin but Jimin didn't really like him back- and yet no one goes, welp Jimin doesn't like Yoongi let's go to war.

And perhaps if Jimin was the type of boy to shove Yoongi around, Crack jokes about his height it would have fueled this whole idea that Jimin didn't like Yoongi.

Jimin didn't have to "prove" He liked Yoongi. Literally all he did was be himself with yoongi to dispel that notion. because he is a much more calmer gentler graceful person by nature nobody makes a big deal about their dynamic the way they do or did with Jikook.

If you ask me, I think that whole this person doesn't like me or that person doesn't like me was just an immature attempt to get attention and to get their needs of affection met cos the only way some people feel they can get their needs met is through toxic manipulation tactics like these.

They were young and didn't know any better and that behavior is so heavily normalized in their own pop culture.

And we're going to ignore a whole conversation had between Tae and Kook in soop with Tae literally saying he wanted JK to treat him a certain way but Jk refused to when they were younger. Isn't that evidence shit was wrong between them too?

Just because they had a mature way of addressing their dynamic later on doesn't mean it didn't happen with them either back in the day. They just didn't take about it like Jimin did.

I'm sure however Jimin felt about Jungkook's attitude towards him, he could have handled it better than he did but they were of course just teenagers and hadn't developed the communication skills required to foster a healthy dynamic.

Whatever anyone thinks of Jungkook, Jimin is the only member to have openly voiced out and questioned him on his behavior towards him without mincing words. The execution may have been wrong but he did vocalize his needs to him regardless when the members only brought it up when he did something nice for others especially Jimin.

The others when they talked about this would do so indirectly or passive aggressively such as when they said he acts anti social with them, wouldn't get them birthday presents. Tae said passively that JK ignored him when they cams stopped rolling and yet no one makes a big deal out of that right?

In recent times, when they were talking about Jungkook not posting or gifting members Jimin was the only one who said he would punch him in the throat if he didn't do anything for him either. Yet it seems the others weren't too happy about that either.

And you are right, no one is hyper fixating on these moments and blowing it out of proportions except when it comes to jikook because Jikook is all that matters to most homophobic people. And perhaps because Jimin draws attention to those issues when he voices them out.

I really don't care about people's perception of anyone.

Does it matter how people are perceiving them if these people are consistently proven wrong about them over and over???

Oh you thought Tae Kook were going to serve together? Jikook went and now what??

You thought Tae Kook were the closest, turns out it's Jikook and now what??

Yall not tired of being wrong????

Must be exhausting

Hope you stab your toe

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kissorkill16 · 5 months ago

Text

I Didn't Have A Choice: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Trinity learns the reason why Nicky was so obsessed with Mr. Peterson in the first place.

P.S., Art belongs to @ravenbrookz , this is a screenshot. This is also a continuation of @fazbearedits 's previous fanfics.

Nicky was running home from school, trying as best as he could to get away from all of the judgment stares and laughing kids.

He was having such a bad day today. He recently found out that Finch took a picture of his mental breakdown, and the principal didn't even do anything about it.

Everyone was laughing at him. But what about any of this was funny? Nicky was scared for his life, trying to warn his friends to stay away from Crowface and Mr. Peterson, but no one was listening to him. Like always.

No matter what Nicky said or did, he'd always be seen as one thing and one thing only. A brash delinquent who's obsessed with a troubled widow.

Nicky was suddenly startled out of his thoughts when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and immediately jumped back in shock. When he turned around, he saw Trinity.

"Hey.", she said. "Wait up."

Nicky's face turned to anger, and he started stomping away from her. It wasn't her using his words against him that was the problem, it was the fact that she did so little to defend him in the principal's office about the whole picture fiasco. He knew she wasn't trying to converse with him because they were friends or anything, she just wanted to know what he knew about Crowface.

"Hey! Nicky, it's me. Trinity. The girl who -"

"I know who you are.", he growled at her. "You're the girl who didn't even try to defend me when I was in a dire situation."

Trinity scoffed. "Dire? It's just a picture, Nicky. I'm sure it'll all blow over in a couple of weeks."

"And if it doesn't?"

Trinity didn't answer. She wanted to say something, but she just closed her mouth. She kept walking behind Nicky, not planning on stopping. Nicky picked up his pace and started running, turning in the direction of the back of a building. But as luck would have it, Trinity followed him there. Nicky clutched at his head and threw his hands at his hips.

"What do you want?", he asked, even though he probably already knew the answer.

"I just wanted to talk to you about what happened. Nicky, I'm worried about you. Everyone is.", Trinity replied.

"Oh are they?", Nicky asked her incredulously. "If they were really worried about me, then they would've defended me. If anyone was really worried about me, I would have at least one person on my side for fucking once in my life."

Trinity moved closer to Nicky and put a hand on his shoulder. "Nick, how about we calm down for a little bit."

"Calm down? Calm down?! Are you kidding me?! How can I be calm when I'm literally the most unlucky person alive right now?!", he snapped.

Trinity started shouting too. "Well I'm sorry, Nick. I'm sorry you're so unlucky, but some of us have bigger shit to deal with! We've all got bigger shit to deal with, and here you are being a selfish, delusional brat!"

Nicky's eyes could've turned red at that sentence. "SELFISH?! DELUSIONAL?! SURE, TRINITY, LIKE NO ONE'S EVER CALLED ME THAT BEFORE!!", he screamed. "I'm sorry if I'm selfish and delusional, but let's not forget the one who got trapped inside a psychopath's basement, for fucking weeks on end, with nobody to save him!"

"Let's not forget who thought it was a good idea to go in that house, knowing that he might possibly die!"

"Let's not forget who found me a way in!!"

"LET'S NOT FORGET WHO DIDN'T EVEN WANT TO DO THIS!! LET'S NOT FORGET WHO DRAGGED HER INTO THIS MESS BECAUSE SOME IDIOT WAS SO HUNG UP ON PROVING THAT SOME OLD GUY WAS A MURDERER!!"

Nicky took in a deep breath, and said "I just wanted someone to believe me, for someone to be on my side for once."

Trinity turned to leave. "Well congrats, Nick. You got me on your side, and now I'm dealing with another bullshit problem that's possibly worse than Mr. Peterson."

"How is your new situation my fault?"

"Because you dragged me into a rabbit hole that I can't seem to get out of now."

As Trinity was about to leave, she decided to say one last thing to her supposed friend. "You are delusional, and I was an idiot for ever helping you spy on someone to satisfy your stupid needs. I was an idiot for ever helping you get in that house -"

"I NEVER EVEN WANTED TO GO IN THAT HOUSE IN THE FIRST PLACE, BUT I DIDN'T HAVE ANY OTHER CHOICE!"

Trinity was absolutely taken aback by his outburst. "What're you talking about? What do you mean you had no other choice?"

Nicky felt tears pool in his eyes, and he reached into his backpack, and pulled out a missing poster and handed it to Trinity.

"This is Aaron and Mya Peterson. These are his children."

Trinity still didn't get it.

"Before you came to this town, I was the shiny new kid. I once lived in that house across the street from Mr. Peterson, and these two were the best people I've ever met. They immediately accepted me as their friend, welcoming me warmly into their home. I began to see them less like friends and more like siblings. Aaron was my favorite, he was my best friend. We shared so many interests together, and we pulled all kinds of elaborate pranks on people around town. We had a fairytale life,...but it all came to an end. Mrs. Peterson died in a car crash a few months after, and Mr. Peterson was beyond heartbroken. After the funeral, Aaron told me to never come back to that house, and I never understood why. I was distraught, losing the first friends I've made since I came here felt like being stabbed in the heart. A month went by before I ran into Mr. Peterson, nailing up missing posters with Aaron and Mya's faces on them. At that point, I was even more heartbroken, that I didn't come out of my house for weeks. It wasn't until I went across the street to check on Mr. Peterson that I knew something was wrong."

Trinity felt all the air drain from her lungs.

"Mr. Peterson was nailing a door shut, and from behind the door, I heard loud screaming and crying. Like someone was begging to be let out. That was the first time I snuck into his house. The air smelled awful, like a dead body. I checked everywhere around the house, and I didn't like what I saw. A butcher knife, all covered in blood, its shine covered in so much grime. Finally, when I made it to Aaron's room, I saw that the window was shattered, and on the glass was a large stain of dried blood. And under the window, I saw a note reading "I make bad things happen.", and it was at that moment where I thought that Mr. Peterson killed his kids, and he was falsifying a missing persons report to cover it up."

Trinity began biting her nails.

"I tried telling somebody. The police, my parents, the principal, anyone who ever knew Mr. Peterson, but no one believed me. Everyone thought I was the crazy one, that I was harassing an innocent man who lost his family. But I know what I saw! And they'd all have seen it too if they hadn't been so god damn blind!"

Trinity didn't want to ask, but she knew she had to, otherwise, Nicky would continue to be angry at her. "What about the basement? What'd you see in the basement?"

Nicky sat down on the ground, the tears in his eyes starting to drip out.

"It was horrifying, Trinity. This tall, shadow creature, and all I saw when I looked at it was fear. It took the form of two little girls, and begged me to play with them. When I refused, it started biting me and threatening to hurt me or kill me. So I knew if I didn't want to die, I had to play along with their stupid games.", Nicky sniffed. "I wanted to get out so bad. And when I finally did, I learned that no one had bothered to look for me. Not even my own parents, and the only time they show up is when I have a breakdown and embarrass myself and possibly them in front of the entire neighborhood."

Nicky started screaming in between sobs, feeling like he was choking. "Do you know how hard it is, Trinity? To feel like you have no other choice when your friends are possibly in danger, and there's only so much you can do to save them, and you end up failing miserably?! To learn that everyone in town was acting like it was a normal day while you were trying to survive being haunted by a demon?! To be humiliated in public for having a LITERAL mental breakdown, and having everyone laugh at you for it? No, you don't. Because you're not the one who got trapped in the basement."

After all of that rambling, Nicky took out the bag he wore over his head in the basement and put it over his head, finally breaking down and sobbing.

Trinity sat down next to him and wrapped her arms around him, softly whispering reassuring words into his ear, "I'm sorry, Nicky. I had no idea. All this time, I thought you were just an annoying and crazy kid who lived in Raven Brooks, but you were really only trying to save your friends. I'm so sorry, Nicky."

Nicky just kept sobbing into his bag.

Trinity didn't even care about Crowface anymore, or the fact that it was getting dark and her parents were probably starting to worry. All that mattered right now was making sure Nicky was okay.

#hello neighbor #welcome to raven brooks #nicky roth #trinity bales #hurt/comfort #my fics #hello neighbor fanfic #i wrote this at midnight

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thecameronchronicles · 2 years ago

Text

Flawless

TW: Smut. Language. Mentions of blood. SoftDomRafe! Angst due to body image.

SUMMARY: Rafe validates why he loves your figure…

WORD COUNT: 2800

*ORIGINAL CONCEPT*

Flawless

It didn't matter the color of the fabric or style of the dress. Nothing seemed right for the aesthetic the Cameron family left at every function. Wheezie was the eccentric youth who wore the carefully curated pastels orchestrated by Rose, who owned a dramatic statement piece all her own. Ward was demure in his perfectly tailored suit and million dollar smile. And Sarah was effortlessly soft yet desirable with her siren stare and ethereal style. But the responsibility it meant to be on Rafe's arm had meant your own physique was set into question against his mouth watering appearance. It was louder than that of your own insecurities even as you'd overheard those envious of your relationship with the attractive Cameron, remarks of your healthy weight contrasting their improbable perfections made possible by unhealthy standards. And it was enough to drain any potential confidence into uncertainty as you bowed your head while sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Bullshit tie-" Rafe groaned at the inability to perfect the Windsor knot expected in the reflection of his father's ensemble. Yet the sight of your state had redirected his focus to your well being. More specifically, becoming enraged to whoever or whatever was responsible for its decline.

"What is it, baby?"

"It's stupid." You sniffled, shaking your head. The only thing you loathed more than their comments and glances, were how you let them get to you. Even if you were tempted to fall into the fads of disordered ‘diets’ to appease them, the way he found beauty within even your most shallow of confidences had kept you clear from acting on such dark thoughts.

"The only stupid thing is how stupidly beautiful you are..." He spoke in pure honesty as you scoffed.

"Can I just meet up with you after?"

"Are you sick?"

"No..."

"Do you want to be with someone else?" Your eyes narrowed.

"No-"

"As far as I'm concerned, those are the only two reasons you wouldn't be coming with me. The first I'd stay back and take care of you...and if there was someone else..." He used the bend of his fingers to direct your eyes to him. "I'd miss the entire party to prove that I'm the only one for you. Just like you are for me…"

You couldn't respond to his sweet words. You felt hypocritical to agree but uncertain to answer as you were well aware how quick to anger he was. For that, you only remained silent.

"So tell me who said something..."

"Nobody."

"So I don't make you feel beautiful then?"

"Rafe..."

"It's my job. To make you come and feel beautiful." Your cheeks flushed to his words.

"I just don't feel...skinny enough...okay..." You hung your head in shame at the remark. No matter the times he reminded you of the opposite, you couldn't help but question the sour words of your peer antagonists as they circled your mind and withering self-esteem.

"Stand up."

"Rafe..."

"Stand. Up."

He spoke more aggressively as you stood in only your lingerie. His eyes adored the sight for a moment, a greedy glance, as you stood in anticipation. You were expecting him to turn you towards the mirror set to the side of the closet you stood in front of. But instead, you watched him take your dress to his fingers.

"Apparently I have to make something clear..." The tag of your dress was removed from the fabric. Your eyes widened.

"I don't give a shit if you're a size zero or fifty."

"Rafe-"

"I'm not done." He moved to your closet, taking any piece of clothing he could and repeating the process with each tag he could.

"I don't care if you weigh under a certain amount. All I care about is that you're healthy. That you eat. That you’re happy." His eyes darkened.

"And that you're mine." When finishing the final dress, set in a pile discarded at your feet, he now pulled you before the mirror.

But even in his dramatic attempt to make a point, you could feel those bitter words add weight to your curves.

"Look."

"Rafe, please. I just don't feel like-"

"If whoever was stupid enough to make you feel like this can't see how fucking beautiful you are, that's on them. But I'm telling you to look. Look at this...Look at what's all mine..." You turned to face him, forcing the fingers tracing the skin of your stomach to now rest at your back as your eyes met with his.

"I have stretch marks-"

"And claw marks...from where I love to guide you into me-"

"And I'm heavier than the other girls-" He scoffed at this. "I look in the mirror and I can't help but notice. The way they look and how they'd look better at your side and-" He moved in a quick step to the mirror beside the closet. A sudden first made an abrupt collision to the glass as it shattered.

"Rafe!" Picking up a piece of glass within a dress he'd then in disregard moments prior, he moved in your direction. But even with the menacing look behind his eyes and the way he'd sauntered to you with the sharp edge of a potential weapon, you trusted he wouldn't harm you.

"You should only listen to me, not done fucking reflection that's too stupid to know beauty..." He led the edge of the broken piece of mirror to your chest. The delicate fabric keeping your bra connected was teased with the makeshift knife's edge.

"I don't want you to wear what they do. I don't want you to wear anything." In the time it took to exercise a simple exhale, his secondary hand took hold of that thin material as his dominant hand cut it loose. Your gasp was silenced by his scoff.

"But even when you have to wear something. You have my full attention. You're beautiful. So fucking beautiful it hurts. I have to keep from touching you every second of the day...sleeping next to you at night...but I know you need to rest for how you're gonna take me later ..as a reward for being patient. But if I say you're beautiful and you say you're not...are you calling me a liar?" He asked, leading the glass beneath your chin.

"Because I think you're smarter than that." You swallowed hard from excitement as you were well aware he'd only mark your skin if you asked.

"I just don't feel like I'm...skinny enough..." He cocked his jaw, slowly nodding, and sucking in a breath. And yet, none of those motions were genuine in agreement. Instead, they had been given as a means of validation he would need to prove his point.

"I don't know who the fuck made you think that. Don't have to worry about those stupid tags or that mirror...so I know it's something else..." He walked you to the direction of the bed.

"But what I do know...is that by the time I'm done with you...you'll never question it again." He pushed you onto the bed. "If you do..." he chucked his tongue. "You'll have me to deal with." He pulled you to the edge, removing your panties with the sharp edge of the glass before disposing of it completely.

Disposing of the fabric, his body was suddenly over your own. Hands pressed to the bed on either side of you had sent you deeper into the mattress as you swallowed hard to the dominant man set with such a task behind usually kind eyes.

"You trust me, yeah?" You nodded.

"You know I wouldn't lie to you?" Again, you bobbed your head.

"Then listen...because I'm only going to be able to explain it once before I have to act on it...So listen carefully..." He kisses your lips softly.

"Perfect. Soft and warm..." He led his mouth to your jaw and then your neck, "I love tasting your heart beat for me right here..." His fingers drifted to the natural part made of your thighs as his hips had fit perfectly there, "and I love feeling it here...But I'm getting ahead of myself..." He returned his hands to your breasts.

"I could massage and tease these all day...I love watching you squirm when I do..." Your mouth parted to release that light kaon that came expectedly as he twisted your hard nipples from his touch.

"And sucking on them...feeling you pull my hair because you want more..." He narrated it just prior to it happening as he smirked to his clairvoyant prediction.

"And when I kiss lower..." But in the attempts to do this, he felt you tense. He groaned to this clench as he knew why. Your eyes flashed to the sight of those girls, even ones like Sarah, that had the flawless flat stomachs you couldn't help but fantasize to own. But the structure of your body made this impossible to obtain.

"Right here..." He explained with his ringed finger set at rest just below your navel.

"That's where I come...inside you when I can't take it anymore...and you feel it ..and I love how well you take it..." His words were drilling with too much heat to fathom. You pulled him to your lips. He still had a point to make, but your desperations managed to swallow him whole. He relished in the race made of your fingers rushing through his hair and pulling ever so slightly as his tongue brushed your bottom lip.

"I can't wait-" He breathed quickly, your nod acting as the consent he needed, before you helped him undress. The lack of a full ensemble meant for swift access to his bare chest that you craved to feel in a collision to your skin. The heat of his body and the power of a desperate heart had transported you to believe every word spoke from his breathless lips.

"I know you don't need it-" He spit at the feminine fold between your legs as you gasped, "But I love that look on your face when I do that." You pulled him back in to kiss you as he aligned himself with your sex.

"You were made for me. Me." He groaned, offering a single thrust to which you felt him at optimum depth.

"Do you feel how fucking hard I am? That isn't because you look like them. It's because you're YOU. Beautiful. You." He moved once, your lips parting to accommodate the stretch you weren't ever white able to adjust to.

"But still all mine." You nodded slowly, agreement interrupted by a genesis of a slow pace. His toes came to a stabilization to the wood beneath his bed, forcing the mattress to creak to his slow collision made against your hips.

"Every whimper...every inch....every time you come...everything is mine- " His grip ate into the flesh of your ass as he pulled you even closer to him. Even if his words were vulgar and his hips were capable of taking you at a murderous pace, he moved in a slow glide to bask in every sensation for you both.

"I love you." He spoke, almost pained. "And if I have to remind you of it every second, you bet your perfectly blistered ass," He offered a teasing strike before taking it back in an amorous hold. "That I will."

Silence filled the space between you as you became invested in the hollow of lust. Worries and obligations quieted in the war of desire and love blossoming between you. As he fisted the sheets in the soft drives made in climbing acceleration, you responded with the perfect moans and labored breathing that only motivated him further. Wrapped completely in one another, limbs a blur to the amorous connectivity made in such motions , he needed to feel you to the deepest and dullest extent.

You were taken into a kiss, tongues tangled, as your legs set over him in a straddle. He prepared you to take him once again, but kept you raised over him with a grip around your back, as he took hold of the back of your hair and neck.

"Do you know why I know?" Your eyes narrowed as you were breathless but curious hovered over him.

"I know you're flawless because I'm so fucking broken that being near you...touching you...being loved by you...is enough to fix it. That's beautiful. Not just your body...or the way you say my name when you're annoyed but still put up with my shit ..not the way you feel when you come or how you make me...But because you make those broken pieces whole again."

"Rafe-" Tears filled both of your eyes.

"And you questioning that questions me...us...But so help me, if I have to spend every night reminding you...I will." He almost growled those final words as you were taken down onto him. He flexed immediately inside of you in response to the gasp made against him.

"Tell me you understand. Tell me " He spoke behind clenched teeth. Those once soft motions were now harsh. The thrusts made deep but the pleasure and compassion still on the forefront.

"Tell me you're beautiful."

"Rafe-" He took hold of the back of your hair, pulling you to take a sharp inhale of surprise once again.

"Then tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours!"

"And that makes you perfect. That makes you flawless... THAT makes you mine." He huffed, leading you to that intense rise of ecstasy that sent your back into an arch. Collecting you in his arms as he found his own release in time of your coming tremors, he kissed you to breathe in those moans he'd earned.

"Now you're going to put on any one of those dresses and let me show you off..." You looked to the floor, a heavy gaze assessing the options quickly. "But it won't matter whatever you choose because I'll tear it shreds when I get you back in here..."

You cocked your head.

"And you let me see anyone giving you anything even close to a cross look and that mirror is the mercy I won't show them-" To the mention of this, you pulled him back to you by taking hold of his hand. Licking your lips, you kissed around the wound as your eyes rose to make contact with him. The fingers if hei fist came loose as you took the ringed digit into your mouth.

"I feel beautiful for you, Rafe. The way you look at me when I'm on my knees for you." His jaw clenched.

"Let me feel beautiful?" He wanted to fight you and make you rise to your feet again. But the way you spoke such a request in such a whine that made him hard for you once again, he only endured what you offered him.

"You are always beautiful, baby."

"Then let me be." You smirked, taking him behind your lips as a favor of gratitude. As he had been slow with you, you had returned the ecstasy to him. Tasting yourself had only added to the eroticism before his hand suddenly retracted you from your endeavors.

"Say it. Say it or you don't get to do this anymore." You took your hand around his shaft.

"I'm beautiful for you. I'm perfect for you. Now let me make you come for me so I can remember that as you show me off..." You used his own words against him as he scoffed. You took the distraction and weakening grip to take him into your throat again.

Tears and drool gathering at your chin had been an announcement of a job well done as he grunted and cursed over you. The grip made in your hair had mirrored the one you'd taken into his thighs as he warned you if your skillset being more than enough.

"I'm gonna come! Baby! Fuck!"

You only nodded, the vibration from your moan of approval sending him over the second edge, strengthened by that overstimulation.

"Fucking perfect." He answered.

"Beautiful..." You teased with your thumb collecting his cum from your bottom lip and setting it behind your lips.

"Flawless." He corrected, kissing you quiet as it has been enough to silent your insecurities for now. And even if they would return again, you would have this to reference from here on out.

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