#so my little brother got called a gang member&asked what drugs he was on after being pulled over for doing 26 in a 25

[jvzebel-x]

How do you feel about diversifying police?

here are some clips from an article about the Honolulu Police Department, the police i grew up with&one of the most-- if not THE most-- racially diverse forces in USAmerica, with 21% having claimed to be ethnically Hawaiian&only 12% identifying as white:

i think this was a stupid question, lmao. when i say all cops are bastards, trust: i mean every fucking one of the inhuman cunts. if i saw a uniformed officer bleeding to death on the street, i'd make sure to stomp ON them, not step over them, regardless of the details of that blood.

[favslarue]

Pro-hero Katsuki Bakugo NSFW inspired by THE DINNER - Billie Eilish

Warnings: Rough sex, stalking, dirty talk, humiliation, cumming in mouth, spanking, office sex.

English is not my first language, 100% accept advices and correction in the grammar and vocabulary, but please be nice. 🥹

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆

You never thought that you would ever commit a crime worst than stealing to eat or getting into fights with other delinquents.

But then he arrested you after you had beaten the shit out of some rich kid who often were at your neighborhood, pretending they’re dangerous gang members.

When in fact, they’re just being used by the actual dealers, who know there won’t be big consequences for those kids, their parents will just pay the authorities and they will be free to sell those drugs to their rich friends again.

You knew that, you knew that the criminals you know wouldn’t let those people mess with your family, you knew that they weren’t shit

But for some reason, the moment your little brother came home crying saying they offered him drugs.

That one of them tried to persuade him to sell that shit too, saying that “your thot sister won’t have to sell her body to put food on the table anymore”.

That wasn’t truth, but still, your brother believed him for a moment. That fucking moment you saw red, you couldn’t control your anger.

The moment you jumped that teenager you weren’t thinking straight, you didn’t consider that your brother had nobody else than you.

And that gang of little pussies didn’t dared to do something to you, so they called the cops.

They called the fucking cops, but the pro hero Dynamight came with them. Your neighborhood had a fame, so they thought it was something way worse.

Next thing you know, you are in the prison cell, after listening all type of shit from that asshole’s father, it really didn’t matter if he was the gang member in the picture, you dared to touch that daddy’s boy.

After at least 2 or 3 hours sat there, still feeling the blood pounding in your chest, you hands and knees sore and bleeding. A female guard opened that cell.

- Y/N? got lucky someone paid you bail - The guard said, she clearly wasn’t happy.

- Me? Are you sure? - You were confused, you didn’t had a lot of people who cared for you, and those who did, almost didn’t had money to eat.

- Yeah! Dynamight did, even defended you when that kid’s dad were trying to take you on court - She wasn’t telling you that to be nice, she wanted to know what kind of relationship you had with the pro hero.

- The dad almost exploded when the number 1 hero yelled at his child for being a gang member! - She continued, trying to get something out of you. - He threatened to investigate the teenager and his friends. Do you know him?

- No! Never seen him in my life. - Why would he do that? You asked yourself.

Don't be afraid of me, I'm what you need

I saw you on the screens, I know we're meant to be

You're starrin' in my dreams, In magazines

After that, you stole a cellphone, it was easy considering your invisibility quirk. You needed to know more about that hero. Just out of curiosity.

You followed all the online forums about Dynamight.

When somebody opened a Live video of him saving someone you rushed to the place were it was happening, just to see him arresting the criminals and being interviewed.

You're lookin' right at me

I'm here around the clock

I'm waitin' on your block

And after that, you followed him home, every. single. time.

Sometimes you even dared to enter his house. The first time, you managed to get in as soon as he opened the door.

After sneaking in, you couldn’t find a way out, so you just spent the night there, watching him, learning his routine. You even discovered his real name, Katsuki Bakugo. You watched him sleep that night.

He clearly was agitated, he woke up scared and turned the lights on, walked two or three times around the house, to make sure he was alone, checked if the doors and windows were locked.

He was smart to notice something was wrong, but didn’t figure you were the one disturbing his sleep (or so you thought).

You left at morning, when he opened the windows to let the sunlight in the room.

Some weeks later you had already figured every single way in and out, but he was being more careful, he even adopted a guard dog.

It was a huge one, you even considered stopping your visits, but you realized quickly that it was a gentle dog. It got used to your presence very quickly.

Trying to conciliate your obsession and raising your brother was hard, so sometimes you would steal from his fridge. You knew he wouldn’t mind.

I waited on the corner 'til I saw the sitter leave

Was easy getting over and I landed on my feet

I came in through the kitchen lookin' for something to eat

I left a calling card so they would know that it was me

You were tired of only watching him, you wanted more. You wanted him.

So when you figured he needed a secretary, you took the chance.

Lying in your curriculum, you knew everything that he needed. And honestly, you needed the job.

You even eliminated the other candidates, you didn’t kill them, obviously. Just scared the shit out of them, some even left the estate.

While I'm away, don't read my mail

Just bring a veil

And come visit me in jail

You got the job, of course. And after all that, you can’t back down. You will get what you want. You will have him.

You were in his office, with other employee who were showing you the company.

- This is Y/N sir. She is your new secretary, I sent you a copy of her resume and…

- You can go now, I want to know her better. - He interrupted her.

She looked at you almost saying “good luck” and left.

- I know you, don’t I? Could you remind me where did we met? - He said, his words seemed truthful, but not his eyes… They were daring you to lie.

- You saved me once, but I’m sure you don’t remember that. - It wasn’t exactly a lie.

- Saved you from what? - Fuck. He remembers.

You decided to gaslight him, you wouldn’t destroy what you fought so hard for. You have to make something up.

- Last year… bank robbery, I was one of the people that were held hostage. - You thankfully knew every single one of his operations by head.

He chuckled, looking at you in disbelief.

- You’re a good liar, but my memory is way better. - You tilted your head, trying look confused. - If the police station were the only time we crossed paths, maybe I wouldn’t remember, but the last months you have been quite present, haven’t you?

But please don't call the cops

They'll make me stop

And I just wanna talk

- I don’t know what you’re talking about

He let out a loud laugh, it was dark and scary.

He got up from the chair and circled his tabled. Getting dangerously close to you. You didn’t move a muscle.

He was taller and significantly bigger than you. It was intimidating, but all that you and your sick mind were thinking about was getting pinned under him, held down by those enormous biceps

- It isn’t a coincidence that you always are where I am at, especially when i’m working. I noticed you watching me saving people, every single time. And you always left after me. - He said in a low tone, if he wasn’t so close you wouldn’t hear him.

I'll go back to the diner

I'll write another letter

I hope you'll read it this time, you better

You don’t know that yet, but Bakugo were just as deranged as you are.

When he paid your bail, it was out of heart, but instead of moving on with his life he researched about you, the schools you went, your family, all of your crimes. Things that not even the police knew.

After that, he spotted you on a crowd of people that were watching him arrest a random criminal, more than one time.

Noticed that you didn’t leave even after everyone did, and that you were trying your best to not catch his attention.

You were waiting for something, you were waiting for him.

And after the third time, he noticed you using your quirk, that’s when everything made fucking sense.

All the nights felling watched, the sensation of being followed,

The feminine perfume that just didn’t left his house, his room, his dog, his uniform.

It was you, this whole fucking time.

Bet I could change your life

You could be my wife

He would pretend to be asleep just to hear your steps around his house.

Just to hear you petting his dog and whispering some kind words to it.

Just to feel you coming closer to his sleeping face and stare.

Could get into a fight, I'll say you're right

And you'll kiss me goodnight

- Mr. Dynamight, I just want the job. You’re confusing me with someone else.

In a quick movement he grabbed your wrists and put them behind your back, bending you over his desk, and positioned himself behind you.

You tried to set yourself free, but it was completely useless, you could swear that he would arrest you right there and then.

- You’re fucking insane - He said in your ear.

The cops around the corner stopped me when I tried to leave

They told me I was crazy and they knocked me off my feet

You closed your eyes, accepting your faith. To be honest you didn’t regret a thing, at least he sees you now.

Also, his feelings for you were intense, even if they are anger and hatred, that was enough for you.

But a fucking kiss on your neck and he leaning over you was the last thing you expected.

Your body stiffened, you held your breath.

- What are you doing? - You whispered, shaking.

That’s when you felt his hard dick on your back. What the fuck? Was he excited from all of this? Was he fucking crazy?

They came in through the kitchen lookin' for something discrete

I left a calling card so they would know that it was me

- You’re not the only one who has an obsession.

He didn’t loosen his grip in your wrists, and continued kissing and biting your neck and sometimes the back of your neck, the kisses were wet and aggressive.

- And I am insane? - You weren’t trying to be ironic, you were just astonished.

He didn’t saw it that way, what lead you to receive a hard slap in your ass, and a hair pull right after.

- You don’t get to judge me, bitch. - He said in your ear while holding your hair tightly.

- I wasn’t…- Another slap, you took that as a command to shut up.

He lifted the skirt of your office dress and grabbed the cheek of your ass, that were red from the previous mistreatment.

He slid a finger into your panties and felt your wetness, holding your clit between his fingers while you breathed heavily under him, trying your best to not make noises.

Suddenly, your thong is on your mouth and he’s kneeling to face your wet cunt, he blowed cold air against it, which made you tremble. He held your thighs with enough strength to bruise.

You bended even more, and he licked your folds, sucked your clit, his tongue swirling around your wetness, creating a knot in your low belly.

His mouth is hot and ravishing, almost like he liked the taste.

- Mhm… Dynamight… - You moaned, not being able to complete your sentence.

And with that, you came quickly. The tension and need was too much to handle. Your trembling legs gave in, almost falling, if it weren’t his grip on your thighs.

You couldn’t process your orgasm and he was standing again, his tip teasing you folds, sliding from your entrance to your clit, and going back to your entrance.

You throw your hips back, trying to cause some friction. But you were held in place, and received a hard smack in your ass, and you could swear he used his quirk because of the unusual burn and the loud noise it made

- You’re a big girl, use your words.

- Can you… mhm. Fuck me? Why are you taking so long?

He chuckled, mockingly - I see you’re not so stupid, what a surprise.

Shoving only the tip, he started stretching you out, you’re not a virgin, but there’s way too long since you were fucked, and you didn’t saw his dick, so you weren’t aware of what expected you.

Only the tip already hurt, if it weren’t for how wet you are it probably wouldn’t fit.

It was clear that Katsuki was holding back, each centimeter entering you was driving you closer to madness. Your pussy is sucking him even more.

Bakugo decided to stop torturing you and shoved it entirely into you. It made you scream and the piece of fabric felt from your mouth.

He started pounding into you, not letting you adjust to his entire length, which is huge.

- Put it back in your mouth, if people hear me fucking my secretary it will be worse for your reputation than mine.

You obeyed, not because you cared about what people thought, that was the only reason why you were there anyway. His voice ordering you around made it impossible to not comply.

The table cracking, the friction of your nipples against it. Your pussy burning and throbbing as he fucked you from behind, his grunts and his hand on your hips and ass. Your ass sore from the smacks.

All of that helped another orgasm to grow. One of your hands reached for him, he held your wrist and pulled your other arm, to hold them both as he gripped your hair with his other big hand.

You came with that, held your breath and felt dizzy, almost like you were going to pass out. Your pussy had it’s own heartbeat at this point.

He didn’t slowed his pace, in fact it became more frenetic as you did your best to not keep the oxygen from going to your brain

Suddenly, he pulled out. Turned you around and pulled you into your knees.

- Gonna cum in your mouth, doll.

He stroked sometimes as he stared down at you, face with his usual frown, but his lips were parted and eyes darker.

You opened your mouth in anticipation, he grabbed your face, to keep it like that (but also to caress your cheek while doing it)

As he shoot his loads of seed down your throat some spilled in the conner of your lips, his thumb cleaned your lips and shoved into your tongue.

- Swallow it. - You complied - Good whore.

He stared at you on the floor a bit, you looked away, and that made him grin, obnoxiously.

He lowered to your level, gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him.

Caught you off guard when his lips touched yours, his tongue invaded your mouth, in a dominant yet gentle way. Your whole body shivered.

He broke the kiss and looked at you, without saying a word, he stood up.

- Get up - He circled his desk, you didn’t saw it, but he took your underwear that it was on the desk, and hided it in his pocket.

You got up, fixing your dress and trying to put your hair in place, looking for your underwear, but you were too embarrassed to stay there longer, so you just decided to leave without your panties.

You turned around, ready to leave. Not wanting to face the consequences, or him.

- Did I say you could leave? - You just stopped there, still not facing him

You feel him stepping closer, until he is behind you.

He put your hair to the side, exposing your neck and smelling you there. You got goosebumps all over your body.

I memorized your number, now I call you when I please

I tried to end it all, but now I'm back up on my feet

- When your shift ends, come to my house. You don’t need the address, right? - And kissed your neck. - You may leave now.

I saw you in the car with someone else and couldn't sleep

If somethin' happens to him, you can bet that it was me

–3956

310-807-3956

310-807-3956

[disniq]

Hi so uhhhh, not actually making any sort of relevant point about anything but I saw you guesstimating Jason's kill count and I have to justify the fact that I went panel by panel to hand count his kills SOMEHOW so like have the data please!!

Skipping dear Filipe's moldering corpse due to uncertainty, we start with Lost Days

Human Trafficking Truck Driver Ian, Egon, Steel Beam mercenary crew estimated at least five strong, three more of his teachers, eleven nameless russian mobsters, a cousin and a running buddy of a russian mobster: 23 people

Under the Red Hood

Eight heads in a duffel bag, four thugs with Freeze (Freezy boy does not die), Two confirmed on panel delivery man kills (Five-ten more suspected but we won't count em), Ten goons in the doorway when he swings the minigun on them as he and Onyx retreat, five more goons, Rocket launcher blast kills "most" of a security team with at least three members left alive so we'll call that three kills (far more deaths are implied), shoots a guy holding a lit molotov catching him on fire, then kills Captain Nazi (yay), forces Black Mask to kill six of his men, forces Some Guy to fight Black Mask to the death for him, and finally dear old Black Mask's PA is thrown through a window (his cycling class will miss him dearly): 42 people

(So, yeah, your ballpark of about a hundred give or take sounds about right, he's only got ~65 on panel, confirmed notches on his knife by the end of UtRH, and the implications seem to imply between 20 and 75 kills off screen)

That Time He Kidnapped Mia

Short and sweet, he only ices a pack of "brain donors": 5 people

Brothers in Blood

Two human traffickers, three more drug runner goons, two more goons later on: 7 people

Red Haired Foolishness Phase part one

Starting the running with two cops, lightning bug assassin, six mobstery big wigs, a guy, Flamingo: 11 people

Red Haired Foolishness Phase part two

Littleman Beaver's brother and his brother's fourteen goons, fifteen of his fellow inmates, then the grand poisoning of eighty-two people (well he poisoned more but we only get eighty-two confirmed as dead): 112 people

This is not even slightly a complete list, so consider this final number a lowball of:

Two Hundred people even!

as Jason's body count... at least pre-new52, don't ask me what's going on over there in modern canon, idk

Hope this was entertaining/useful to you in some way!

Best wishes -redhoodinternaldialectical

This is an amazing reference, thank you so much for sharing!!

I can fill most of the later stuff, because there's tragically little of it.

Nu52's attempt at giving Jason a concrete kill count was laughably low;

Red Hood and the Outlaws (2011) #21

Rebirth was mostly non-lethal, with the notable exception of the gang Jason uses to establish his new edgy loner lifestyle after the famous rhato 25 beatdown from Bruce.

RHATOs (2016) #26

I count 11 of them, and I think it's safe to say they're all dead.

But then he teams up with Batwoman, and then Bunker, and then becomes a teacher at Lex Luthor's school for potential supervillains so it sort of tapers off again.

And then... there's the piece of shit dad he killed in Cheer in 2021.

Batman: Urban Legends (2021) #1

As far as I'm aware, that's the last time he killed in main continuity.

When will my son return from the war

[y-umiko]

BET | SANZU H.

Requested by Anon — For the 2k event

Troupe: Bet

a/n: This troupe has been done so many times, it's old but classic. however, I've decided to make my own take on it. I'm not sure if anon wanted an angst or not.

The look of rejection

lips quivering, eyes red, shoulders slump, a look of disappointment, it was a familiar sight you had grown to accustomed after countless women and men alike confess and got rejected by your fellow executives. being a member of Bonten comes with risk, fame, and suitors.

"Another confession? how many was it this week?" Ran mused joining you and the others from the lounge, where there was a perfect view of Sanzu and a woman, clearly confessing to him.

"I lost count after the blond woman who tried to woo him with drugs" Kakucho drawled, soon losing interest in the situation.

soon the woman comes running out, tears in her eyes. while Sanzu continues doing his work as usual. the sight lighting a chuckle to escape your lips, immediately gaining the attention of the other.

"what's so funny?" Ran amuse asked

"Nothing, I just don't get why those women can't tame Sanzu" you casually mumbled, before sipping from your glass of wine that the executives shared.

"Oh, you think you can do better?"

"wooing Sanzu? I mean I manage to seduce Rin, aren't I?" you chuckled before winking at the younger Haitani. suddenly reminding you of the time Ran also bet you how long it would take to seduce his younger brother.

"That was a long time ago!" Rin's embarrassed outburst.

a sly wide grin spread on Ran's lips, another 'not so good' idea on his head. "Alright if you're as good as you say how about a bet?" he grinned, making you raise a brow urging him to continue "why don't you go after Sanzu? if you manage to get him to say 'I love you', you win"

Kokonoi, who had been watching silently from afar with Takeomi, merely shook his head and walk away. sometimes he wonders how these childish people are running an organization.

"what do I get if I win?"

"looser has to take the winner's workload for a week" Ran proposed and it does sound good, no workload means vacation. if something goes wrong you can just blame the other.

"make it a month, I'm risking my life here"

"deal"

---

Trying to trick Sanzu was bad, you know that, but considering all the bad and illegal things you and the gang had done. a little prank was not out of the question.

However, Sanzu was hard to please, no amount of money or status you have would impress him, considering his wealth and status process over yours.

many times you've invited him into nightclubs, and many times you were rejected. many times you followed him around and were shot down with a threat. many times you brought him presents and many times he paid no mind.

however, while in the process of trying to make Sanzu fall, you ended up falling head over heels instead. classic, but not surprising because while Sanzu was intimidating with all his crazy antics, and cold stares, beneath all those, lay an abundant love and adoration.

because while he rejected your proposal to go to a nightclub, he would be waiting outside for you, leaning against his newly washed car, sober and with a cigarette in hand to pick you up.

because while he threatens you to not follow him anymore, he slows down his pace so you can match his pace. and while he paid no mind to your presents, he keeps them and treasures them.

and while you quickly sink down, realizing you love the pink-haired monster, a pang of sickening guilt keeps clawing, reminding you that this wasn't real.

It had started as a bet until it wasn't a bet anymore because you knew what you were feeling wasn't a lie anymore.

you need to call the bet off.

---

Sanzu has no words to describe you, all he knew was you were a silent storm, quiet and unpredictable until you came raging and destroying all that he knew.

an amused smirk would be present on his lips whenever you think you were subtle with your advances. he tried ignoring you and rejecting your offer but you were like a drug.

an addiction that he can get high forever. he wonders what is it that made you so addicting when all you do was constantly insert yourself in his life. and it didn't take long for him to realize that it was because you stayed despite seeing what he's capable of, you stayed despite knowing his crazy tendencies.

and while he realizes his feeling, doubt, and insecurity was pulling him down. and he doesn't want you sinking with him. that is until fate decided that enough is enough.

"what's the progress y/n? tamed Sanzu yet? I'm itching for that one-month vacation for the bet"

and as if fate desired it Sanzu happened to be coming in your direction but stopped when he heard his name. his heart dropped and felt a million times heavier.

"what's the matter y/n? not so confident in your ability to seduce anymore? " Sanzu heard Ran mock, and if only Sanzu can see the look on your face.

"guys listen I want t- " he heard you start but he heard enough.

"a bet? I knew something was suspicious when you suddenly become interested in my work" he manage to say between gritted teeth. he was hurt and he knew you knew for it probably showed on his face before he was able to mask it away.

"Haru-" you called but he was already walking away to listen more. he knew it was too good to be true. for someone like you to pay attention to someone like him. he just feels silly for opening up to you.

"I'm gonna kill you later" Sanzu heard you hiss at Ran, and soon familiar footsteps followed him. he wonders how many times had you tried following him-before he slowed down his pace so you can catch up, how many times had you tried this before just so you can win over a bet.

"Haru! wait! will you stop for a minute" you called but Sanzu continue to walk away. leaving traces of his broken heart behind.

"I have nothing to say to people like you, be glad that you're an asset in this organization cause if not you'll be dead now" He hiss, a half warning he knew he can't comply.

he heard you stop and he thought you gave up as you should be, but soon footsteps came running after him again. and this time passing by him and blocking his way, hindering him to continue forward and lock himself in his room, consume another pill to make the pain disappear.

but here you were again, blocking his path, a determined look on your face. "I'm not even going to lie that there was a bet"

"But please hear me out!"

"what's going on?" he heard Rin ask, along with the others who heard the commotion. and he swears the people in this organization has nothing better to do than pry into each other's private life.

"Get out of my way, I don't want to hear another one of your lies" his voice was called, as if he was interrogating a traitor yet there was no fear in your eyes.

"It was stupid! I was stupid for even taking that bet, and you don't deserve what I did to you. you have the right to hate me. but you should know that as I spend time with you that bet doesn't mean anything anymore, I made a huge mistake so I'll do anything just for you to forgive me"

he chuckles sadly, gaze lowering to the floor. emotions conflicted.

"I love you" you whispered, gaining a little reaction from him.

"you love me?" he asked, a certain vulnerability behind his voice.

"I’ll say it 1000 times if I have to, I’m fucking in love with you, so please tell me what I should do to gain your forgiveness" you raised your hand to reach out to him but hesitated and brought your hand down again.

Sanzu should be his coldhearted self, not care about what you said and continue with his work again. maybe punish you along with the others for the torment they caused. but he can't find it in himself to do so, for his head was only filled with the fact that you love him.

the sharp glisten in your eyes tells him that you were sincere with your words. and slowly he opened his arms for you and you didn't think twice to lose the opportunity and crash right into his arms."I'm still mad but I'll think of other ways for you to make up"

"I'm really sorry" he heard you mumble, tucked under his chin as he hold you close and so are you.

"All right guys, this is sweet but a bet is a bet" the silence is interrupted by none other than Ran. "I win so I don't have to work this month right?"

"why?"

sniffling, you slightly pulled away from Saanzu "Ran bet me a month's worth of workload if I manage to get you to say I love you, it was stupid but I'll think of it as a punishment for what I did"

Sanzu smirked as if he just had a brilliant idea.

"I love you" he suddenly mumbled as he stared down at you.

"huh"

"Technically you win your bet"

"no fair!"

[blackwoolncrown]

”This essay has been kicking around in my head for years now and I’ve never felt confident enough to write it. It’s a time in my life I’m ashamed of. It’s a time that I hurt people and, through inaction, allowed others to be hurt. It’s a time that I acted as a violent agent of capitalism and white supremacy. Under the guise of public safety, I personally ruined people’s lives but in so doing, made the public no safer… so did the family members and close friends of mine who also bore the badge alongside me.

But enough is enough.

The reforms aren’t working. Incrementalism isn’t happening. Unarmed Black, indigenous, and people of color are being killed by cops in the streets and the police are savagely attacking the people protesting these murders.

American policing is a thick blue tumor strangling the life from our communities and if you don’t believe it when the poor and the marginalized say it, if you don’t believe it when you see cops across the country shooting journalists with less-lethal bullets and caustic chemicals, maybe you’ll believe it when you hear it straight from the pig’s mouth.”

>>Copied here in case anyone gets paywalled when they click the above. The full article is...a lot.<<

WHY AM I WRITING THIS

As someone who went through the training, hiring, and socialization of a career in law enforcement, I wanted to give a first-hand account of why I believe police officers are the way they are. Not to excuse their behavior, but to explain it and to indict the structures that perpetuate it.

I believe that if everyone understood how we’re trained and brought up in the profession, it would inform the demands our communities should be making of a new way of community safety. If I tell you how we were made, I hope it will empower you to unmake us.

One of the other reasons I’ve struggled to write this essay is that I don’t want to center the conversation on myself and my big salty boo-hoo feelings about my bad choices. It’s a toxic white impulse to see atrocities and think “How can I make this about me?” So, I hope you’ll take me at my word that this account isn’t meant to highlight me, but rather the hundred thousand of me in every city in the country. It’s about the structure that made me (that I chose to pollute myself with) and it’s my meager contribution to the cause of radical justice.

YES, ALL COPS ARE BASTARDS

I was a police officer in a major metropolitan area in California with a predominantly poor, non-white population (with a large proportion of first-generation immigrants). One night during briefing, our watch commander told us that the city council had requested a new zero tolerance policy. Against murderers, drug dealers, or child predators?

No, against homeless people collecting cans from recycling bins.

See, the city had some kickback deal with the waste management company where waste management got paid by the government for our expected tonnage of recycling. When homeless people “stole” that recycling from the waste management company, they were putting that cheaper contract in peril. So, we were to arrest as many recyclers as we could find.

Even for me, this was a stupid policy and I promptly blew Sarge off. But a few hours later, Sarge called me over to assist him. He was detaining a 70 year old immigrant who spoke no English, who he’d seen picking a coke can out of a trash bin. He ordered me to arrest her for stealing trash. I said, “Sarge, c’mon, she’s an old lady.” He said, “I don’t give a shit. Hook her up, that’s an order.” And… I did. She cried the entire way to the station and all through the booking process. I couldn’t even comfort her because I didn’t speak Spanish. I felt disgusting but I was ordered to make this arrest and I wasn’t willing to lose my job for her.

If you’re tempted to feel sympathy for me, don’t. I used to happily hassle the homeless under other circumstances. I researched obscure penal codes so I could arrest people in homeless encampments for lesser known crimes like “remaining too close to railroad property” (369i of the California Penal Code). I used to call it “planting warrant seeds” since I knew they wouldn’t make their court dates and we could arrest them again and again for warrant violations.

We used to have informal contests for who could cite or arrest someone for the weirdest law. DUI on a bicycle, non-regulation number of brooms on your tow truck (27700(a)(1) of the California Vehicle Code)… shit like that. For me, police work was a logic puzzle for arresting people, regardless of their actual threat to the community. As ashamed as I am to admit it, it needs to be said: stripping people of their freedom felt like a game to me for many years.

I know what you’re going to ask: did I ever plant drugs? Did I ever plant a gun on someone? Did I ever make a false arrest or file a false report? Believe it or not, the answer is no. Cheating was no fun, I liked to get my stats the “legitimate” way. But I knew officers who kept a little baggie of whatever or maybe a pocket knife that was a little too big in their war bags (yeah, we called our dufflebags “war bags”…). Did I ever tell anybody about it? No I did not. Did I ever confess my suspicions when cocaine suddenly showed up in a gang member’s jacket? No I did not.

In fact, let me tell you about an extremely formative experience: in my police academy class, we had a clique of around six trainees who routinely bullied and harassed other students: intentionally scuffing another trainee’s shoes to get them in trouble during inspection, sexually harassing female trainees, cracking racist jokes, and so on. Every quarter, we were to write anonymous evaluations of our squadmates. I wrote scathing accounts of their behavior, thinking I was helping keep bad apples out of law enforcement and believing I would be protected. Instead, the academy staff read my complaints to them out loud and outed me to them and never punished them, causing me to get harassed for the rest of my academy class. That’s how I learned that even police leadership hates rats. That’s why no one is “changing things from the inside.” They can’t, the structure won’t allow it.

And that’s the point of what I’m telling you. Whether you were my sergeant, legally harassing an old woman, me, legally harassing our residents, my fellow trainees bullying the rest of us, or “the bad apples” illegally harassing “shitbags”, we were all in it together. I knew cops that pulled women over to flirt with them. I knew cops who would pepper spray sleeping bags so that homeless people would have to throw them away. I knew cops that intentionally provoked anger in suspects so they could claim they were assaulted. I was particularly good at winding people up verbally until they lashed out so I could fight them. Nobody spoke out. Nobody stood up. Nobody betrayed the code.

None of us protected the people (you) from bad cops.

This is why “All cops are bastards.” Even your uncle, even your cousin, even your mom, even your brother, even your best friend, even your spouse, even me. Because even if they wouldn’t Do The Thing themselves, they will almost never rat out another officer who Does The Thing, much less stop it from happening.

BASTARD 101

I could write an entire book of the awful things I’ve done, seen done, and heard others bragging about doing. But, to me, the bigger question is “How did it get this way?”. While I was a police officer in a city 30 miles from where I lived, many of my fellow officers were from the community and treated their neighbors just as badly as I did. While every cop’s individual biases come into play, it’s the profession itself that is toxic, and it starts from day 1 of training.

Every police academy is different but all of them share certain features: taught by old cops, run like a paramilitary bootcamp, strong emphasis on protecting yourself more than anyone else. The majority of my time in the academy was spent doing aggressive physical training and watching video after video after video of police officers being murdered on duty.

I want to highlight this: nearly everyone coming into law enforcement is bombarded with dash cam footage of police officers being ambushed and killed. Over and over and over. Colorless VHS mortality plays, cops screaming for help over their radios, their bodies going limp as a pair of tail lights speed away into a grainy black horizon. In my case, with commentary from an old racist cop who used to brag about assaulting Black Panthers.

To understand why all cops are bastards, you need to understand one of the things almost every training officer told me when it came to using force:

“I’d rather be judged by 12 than carried by 6.”

Meaning, “I’ll take my chances in court rather than risk getting hurt”. We’re able to think that way because police unions are extremely overpowered and because of the generous concept of Qualified Immunity, a legal theory which says a cop generally can’t be held personally liable for mistakes they make doing their job in an official capacity.

When you look at the actions of the officers who killed George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, David McAtee, Mike Brown, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, or Freddie Gray, remember that they, like me, were trained to recite “I’d rather be judged by 12” as a mantra. Even if Mistakes Were Made™, the city (meaning the taxpayers, meaning you) pays the settlement, not the officer.

Once police training has - through repetition, indoctrination, and violent spectacle - promised officers that everyone in the world is out to kill them, the next lesson is that your partners are the only people protecting you. Occasionally, this is even true: I’ve had encounters turn on me rapidly to the point I legitimately thought I was going to die, only to have other officers come and turn the tables.

One of the most important thought leaders in law enforcement is Col. Dave Grossman, a “killologist” who wrote an essay called “Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs”. Cops are the sheepdogs, bad guys are the wolves, and the citizens are the sheep (!). Col. Grossman makes sure to mention that to a stupid sheep, sheepdogs look more like wolves than sheep, and that’s why they dislike you.

This “they hate you for protecting them and only I love you, only I can protect you” tactic is familiar to students of abuse. It’s what abusers do to coerce their victims into isolation, pulling them away from friends and family and ensnaring them in the abuser’s toxic web. Law enforcement does this too, pitting the officer against civilians. “They don’t understand what you do, they don’t respect your sacrifice, they just want to get away with crimes. You’re only safe with us.”

I think the Wolves vs. Sheepdogs dynamic is one of the most important elements as to why officers behave the way they do. Every single second of my training, I was told that criminals were not a legitimate part of their community, that they were individual bad actors, and that their bad actions were solely the result of their inherent criminality. Any concept of systemic trauma, generational poverty, or white supremacist oppression was either never mentioned or simply dismissed. After all, most people don’t steal, so anyone who does isn’t “most people,” right? To us, anyone committing a crime deserved anything that happened to them because they broke the “social contract.” And yet, it was never even a question as to whether the power structure above them was honoring any sort of contract back.

Understand: Police officers are part of the state monopoly on violence and all police training reinforces this monopoly as a cornerstone of police work, a source of honor and pride. Many cops fantasize about getting to kill someone in the line of duty, egged on by others that have. One of my training officers told me about the time he shot and killed a mentally ill homeless man wielding a big stick. He bragged that he “slept like a baby” that night. Official training teaches you how to be violent effectively and when you’re legally allowed to deploy that violence, but “unofficial training” teaches you to desire violence, to expand the breadth of your violence without getting caught, and to erode your own compassion for desperate people so you can justify punitive violence against them.

HOW TO BE A BASTARD

I have participated in some of these activities personally, others are ones I either witnessed personally or heard officers brag about openly. Very, very occasionally, I knew an officer who was disciplined or fired for one of these things.

Police officers will lie about the law, about what’s illegal, or about what they can legally do to you in order to manipulate you into doing what they want.

Police officers will lie about feeling afraid for their life to justify a use of force after the fact.

Police officers will lie and tell you they’ll file a police report just to get you off their back.

Police officers will lie that your cooperation will “look good for you” in court, or that they will “put in a good word for you with the DA.” The police will never help you look good in court.

Police officers will lie about what they see and hear to access private property to conduct unlawful searches.

Police officers will lie and say your friend already ratted you out, so you might as well rat them back out. This is almost never true.

Police officers will lie and say you’re not in trouble in order to get you to exit a location or otherwise make an arrest more convenient for them.

Police officers will lie and say that they won’t arrest you if you’ll just “be honest with them” so they know what really happened.

Police officers will lie about their ability to seize the property of friends and family members to coerce a confession.

Police officers will write obviously bullshit tickets so that they get time-and-a-half overtime fighting them in court.

Police officers will search places and containers you didn’t consent to and later claim they were open or “smelled like marijuana”.

Police officers will threaten you with a more serious crime they can’t prove in order to convince you to confess to the lesser crime they really want you for.

Police officers will employ zero tolerance on races and ethnicities they dislike and show favor and lenience to members of their own group.

Police officers will use intentionally extra-painful maneuvers and holds during an arrest to provoke “resistance” so they can further assault the suspect.

Some police officers will plant drugs and weapons on you, sometimes to teach you a lesson, sometimes if they kill you somewhere away from public view.

Some police officers will assault you to intimidate you and threaten to arrest you if you tell anyone.

A non-trivial number of police officers will steal from your house or vehicle during a search.

A non-trivial number of police officers commit intimate partner violence and use their status to get away with it.

A non-trivial number of police officers use their position to entice, coerce, or force sexual favors from vulnerable people.

If you take nothing else away from this essay, I want you to tattoo this onto your brain forever: if a police officer is telling you something, it is probably a lie designed to gain your compliance.

Do not talk to cops and never, ever believe them. Do not “try to be helpful” with cops. Do not assume they are trying to catch someone else instead of you. Do not assume what they are doing is “important” or even legal. Under no circumstances assume any police officer is acting in good faith.

Also, and this is important, do not talk to cops.

I just remembered something, do not talk to cops.

Checking my notes real quick, something jumped out at me:

Do

not

fucking

talk

to

cops.

Ever.

Say, “I don’t answer questions,��� and ask if you’re free to leave; if so, leave. If not, tell them you want your lawyer and that, per the Supreme Court, they must terminate questioning. If they don’t, file a complaint and collect some badges for your mantle.

DO THE BASTARDS EVER HELP?

Reading the above, you may be tempted to ask whether cops ever do anything good. And the answer is, sure, sometimes. In fact, most officers I worked with thought they were usually helping the helpless and protecting the safety of innocent people.

During my tenure in law enforcement, I protected women from domestic abusers, arrested cold-blooded murderers and child molesters, and comforted families who lost children to car accidents and other tragedies. I helped connect struggling people in my community with local resources for food, shelter, and counseling. I deescalated situations that could have turned violent and talked a lot of people down from making the biggest mistake of their lives. I worked with plenty of officers who were individually kind, bought food for homeless residents, or otherwise showed care for their community.

The question is this: did I need a gun and sweeping police powers to help the average person on the average night? The answer is no. When I was doing my best work as a cop, I was doing mediocre work as a therapist or a social worker. My good deeds were listening to people failed by the system and trying to unite them with any crumbs of resources the structure was currently denying them.

It’s also important to note that well over 90% of the calls for service I handled were reactive, showing up well after a crime had taken place. We would arrive, take a statement, collect evidence (if any), file the report, and onto the next caper. Most “active” crimes we stopped were someone harmless possessing or selling a small amount of drugs. Very, very rarely would we stop something dangerous in progress or stop something from happening entirely. The closest we could usually get was seeing someone running away from the scene of a crime, but the damage was still done.

And consider this: my job as a police officer required me to be a marriage counselor, a mental health crisis professional, a conflict negotiator, a social worker, a child advocate, a traffic safety expert, a sexual assault specialist, and, every once in awhile, a public safety officer authorized to use force, all after only a 1000 hours of training at a police academy. Does the person we send to catch a robber also need to be the person we send to interview a rape victim or document a fender bender? Should one profession be expected to do all that important community care (with very little training) all at the same time?

To put this another way: I made double the salary most social workers made to do a fraction of what they could do to mitigate the causes of crimes and desperation. I can count very few times my monopoly on state violence actually made our citizens safer, and even then, it’s hard to say better-funded social safety nets and dozens of other community care specialists wouldn’t have prevented a problem before it started.

Armed, indoctrinated (and dare I say, traumatized) cops do not make you safer; community mutual aid networks who can unite other people with the resources they need to stay fed, clothed, and housed make you safer. I really want to hammer this home: every cop in your neighborhood is damaged by their training, emboldened by their immunity, and they have a gun and the ability to take your life with near-impunity. This does not make you safer, even if you’re white.

HOW DO YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM LIKE A BASTARD?

So what do we do about it? Even though I’m an expert on bastardism, I am not a public policy expert nor an expert in organizing a post-police society. So, before I give some suggestions, let me tell you what probably won’t solve the problem of bastard cops:

Increased “bias” training. A quarterly or even monthly training session is not capable of covering over years of trauma-based camaraderie in police forces. I can tell you from experience, we don’t take it seriously, the proctors let us cheat on whatever “tests” there are, and we all made fun of it later over coffee.

Tougher laws. I hope you understand by now, cops do not follow the law and will not hold each other accountable to the law. Tougher laws are all the more reason to circle the wagons and protect your brothers and sisters.

More community policing programs. Yes, there is a marginal effect when a few cops get to know members of the community, but look at the protests of 2020: many of the cops pepper-spraying journalists were probably the nice school cop a month ago.

Police officers do not protect and serve people, they protect and serve the status quo, “polite society”, and private property. Using the incremental mechanisms of the status quo will never reform the police because the status quo relies on police violence to exist. Capitalism requires a permanent underclass to exploit for cheap labor and it requires the cops to bring that underclass to heel.

Instead of wasting time with minor tweaks, I recommend exploring the following ideas:

No more qualified immunity. Police officers should be personally liable for all decisions they make in the line of duty.

No more civil asset forfeiture. Did you know that every year, citizens like you lose more cash and property to unaccountable civil asset forfeiture than to all burglaries combined? The police can steal your stuff without charging you with a crime and it makes some police departments very rich.

Break the power of police unions. Police unions make it nearly impossible to fire bad cops and incentivize protecting them to protect the power of the union. A police union is not a labor union; police officers are powerful state agents, not exploited workers.

Require malpractice insurance. Doctors must pay for insurance in case they botch a surgery, police officers should do the same for botching a police raid or other use of force. If human decency won’t motivate police to respect human life, perhaps hitting their wallet might.

Defund, demilitarize, and disarm cops. Thousands of police departments own assault rifles, armored personnel carriers, and stuff you’d see in a warzone. Police officers have grants and huge budgets to spend on guns, ammo, body armor, and combat training. 99% of calls for service require no armed response, yet when all you have is a gun, every problem feels like target practice. Cities are not safer when unaccountable bullies have a monopoly on state violence and the equipment to execute that monopoly.

One final idea: consider abolishing the police.

I know what you’re thinking, “What? We need the police! They protect us!” As someone who did it for nearly a decade, I need you to understand that by and large, police protection is marginal, incidental. It’s an illusion created by decades of copaganda designed to fool you into thinking these brave men and women are holding back the barbarians at the gates.

I alluded to this above: the vast majority of calls for service I handled were theft reports, burglary reports, domestic arguments that hadn’t escalated into violence, loud parties, (houseless) people loitering, traffic collisions, very minor drug possession, and arguments between neighbors. Mostly the mundane ups and downs of life in the community, with little inherent danger. And, like I mentioned, the vast majority of crimes I responded to (even violent ones) had already happened; my unaccountable license to kill was irrelevant.

What I mainly provided was an “objective” third party with the authority to document property damage, ask people to chill out or disperse, or counsel people not to beat each other up. A trained counselor or conflict resolution specialist would be ten times more effective than someone with a gun strapped to his hip wondering if anyone would try to kill him when he showed up. There are many models for community safety that can be explored if we get away from the idea that the only way to be safe is to have a man with a M4 rifle prowling your neighborhood ready at a moment’s notice to write down your name and birthday after you’ve been robbed and beaten.

You might be asking, “What about the armed robbers, the gangsters, the drug dealers, the serial killers?” And yes, in the city I worked, I regularly broke up gang parties, found gang members carrying guns, and handled homicides. I’ve seen some tragic things, from a reformed gangster shot in the head with his brains oozing out to a fifteen year old boy taking his last breath in his screaming mother’s arms thanks to a gang member’s bullet. I know the wages of violence.

This is where we have to have the courage to ask: why do people rob? Why do they join gangs? Why do they get addicted to drugs or sell them? It’s not because they are inherently evil. I submit to you that these are the results of living in a capitalist system that grinds people down and denies them housing, medical care, human dignity, and a say in their government. These are the results of white supremacy pushing people to the margins, excluding them, disrespecting them, and treating their bodies as disposable.

Equally important to remember: disabled and mentally ill people are frequently killed by police officers not trained to recognize and react to disabilities or mental health crises. Some of the people we picture as “violent offenders” are often people struggling with untreated mental illness, often due to economic hardships. Very frequently, the officers sent to “protect the community” escalate this crisis and ultimately wound or kill the person. Your community was not made safer by police violence; a sick member of your community was killed because it was cheaper than treating them. Are you extremely confident you’ll never get sick one day too?

Wrestle with this for a minute: if all of someone’s material needs were met and all the members of their community were fed, clothed, housed, and dignified, why would they need to join a gang? Why would they need to risk their lives selling drugs or breaking into buildings? If mental healthcare was free and was not stigmatized, how many lives would that save?

Would there still be a few bad actors in the world? Sure, probably. What’s my solution for them, you’re no doubt asking. I’ll tell you what: generational poverty, food insecurity, houselessness, and for-profit medical care are all problems that can be solved in our lifetimes by rejecting the dehumanizing meat grinder of capitalism and white supremacy. Once that’s done, we can work on the edge cases together, with clearer hearts not clouded by a corrupt system.

Police abolition is closely related to the idea of prison abolition and the entire concept of banishing the carceral state, meaning, creating a society focused on reconciliation and restorative justice instead of punishment, pain, and suffering — a system that sees people in crisis as humans, not monsters. People who want to abolish the police typically also want to abolish prisons, and the same questions get asked: “What about the bad guys? Where do we put them?” I bring this up because abolitionists don’t want to simply replace cops with armed social workers or prisons with casual detention centers full of puffy leather couches and Playstations. We imagine a world not divided into good guys and bad guys, but rather a world where people’s needs are met and those in crisis receive care, not dehumanization.

Here’s legendary activist and thinker Angela Y. Davis putting it better than I ever could:

“An abolitionist approach that seeks to answer questions such as these would require us to imagine a constellation of alternative strategies and institutions, with the ultimate aim of removing the prison from the social and ideological landscapes of our society. In other words, we would not be looking for prisonlike substitutes for the prison, such as house arrest safeguarded by electronic surveillance bracelets. Rather, positing decarceration as our overarching strategy, we would try to envision a continuum of alternatives to imprisonment-demilitarization of schools, revitalization of education at all levels, a health system that provides free physical and mental care to all, and a justice system based on reparation and reconciliation rather than retribution and vengeance.”

(Are Prisons Obsolete, pg. 107)

I’m not telling you I have the blueprint for a beautiful new world. What I’m telling you is that the system we have right now is broken beyond repair and that it’s time to consider new ways of doing community together. Those new ways need to be negotiated by members of those communities, particularly Black, indigenous, disabled, houseless, and citizens of color historically shoved into the margins of society. Instead of letting Fox News fill your head with nightmares about Hispanic gangs, ask the Hispanic community what they need to thrive. Instead of letting racist politicians scaremonger about pro-Black demonstrators, ask the Black community what they need to meet the needs of the most vulnerable. If you truly desire safety, ask not what your most vulnerable can do for the community, ask what the community can do for the most vulnerable.

A WORLD WITH FEWER BASTARDS IS POSSIBLE

If you take only one thing away from this essay, I hope it’s this: do not talk to cops. But if you only take two things away, I hope the second one is that it’s possible to imagine a different world where unarmed black people, indigenous people, poor people, disabled people, and people of color are not routinely gunned down by unaccountable police officers. It doesn’t have to be this way. Yes, this requires a leap of faith into community models that might feel unfamiliar, but I ask you:

When you see a man dying in the street begging for breath, don’t you want to leap away from that world?

When you see a mother or a daughter shot to death sleeping in their beds, don’t you want to leap away from that world?

When you see a twelve year old boy executed in a public park for the crime of playing with a toy, jesus fucking christ, can you really just stand there and think “This is normal”?

And to any cops who made it this far down, is this really the world you want to live in? Aren’t you tired of the trauma? Aren’t you tired of the soul sickness inherent to the badge? Aren’t you tired of looking the other way when your partners break the law? Are you really willing to kill the next George Floyd, the next Breonna Taylor, the next Tamir Rice? How confident are you that your next use of force will be something you’re proud of? I’m writing this for you too: it’s wrong what our training did to us, it’s wrong that they hardened our hearts to our communities, and it’s wrong to pretend this is normal.

Look, I wouldn’t have been able to hear any of this for much of my life. You reading this now may not be able to hear this yet either. But do me this one favor: just think about it. Just turn it over in your mind for a couple minutes. “Yes, And” me for a minute. Look around you and think about the kind of world you want to live in. Is it one where an all-powerful stranger with a gun keeps you and your neighbors in line with the fear of death, or can you picture a world where, as a community, we embrace our most vulnerable, meet their needs, heal their wounds, honor their dignity, and make them family instead of desperate outsiders?

If you take only three things away from this essay, I hope the third is this: you and your community don’t need bastards to thrive.

RESOURCES TO YES-AND WITH

Achele Mbembe — Necropolitics

Angela Y. Davis — Are Prisons Obsolete?

CriticalResistance.org — Abolition Toolkit

Joe Macaré, Maya Schenwar, and Alana Yu-lan Price — Who Do You Serve, Who Do You Protect?

Ruth Wilson Gilmore — COVID-19, Decarceration, Abolition [video]

[skeetusmcyeetus]

I’ve making headcanons about all of my hyper fixations for a while now and just dumping them on my friends so I’m gonna also dump them here.

If you’re into All For the Game , My Hero Academia, ATLA, The Raven Cycle stay fuckn tuned my doods bc I have a loooot of stuff rattling around my empty skull.

Not all of these are 100% mine some of them are already pretty popular and I’m expanding on them or I heard something similar and edited it to my own tastes

I’ll separate them by series,,,

Theres like one canon that’s mildly nsfw

TW: drug abuse

Mha/Bnha

pro hero kirishima’s Red Riot™️ merch is insanely size inclusive bc he wants fatgum to be able to wear the hoodie that kiri’s pr team sent him but that’s not all,,

If he wasn’t super gay and in love with Bakugou he’d be very Into BBWs so again his merch is super size inclusive bc he wants everyone to be able to wear it

The company that makes the merch also takes requests for special made merch for people who’s quirks interfere with a “normal” size or dimension

ALSO ,,,,this man(kiri) is built like a fuckn MACK TRUCK OKAY he is 6’7” and cannot fit through doorways without ducking and turning a little to the side ,,, he is broad And still wears no shirt™️ ,,, this being said ,, bakugou is still around 5’8” and pretty slim don’t get me wrong he’s extremely strong and toned but he’s not huge,, it makes flying easier if he stays a little lighter ,,,,,,, the point is,, sometimes kiri will pick up bakugou with one arm and bakugou can’t even pretend to hate it anymore

Also,,,, fatgum has to use special pens and keyboards because of how big his hands are,,, he’s literally 8’2” I won’t take criticism on this

Fatgum actually loves wearing red riot and sun eater merch

Allmight and Inko start dating and one day when they’re out someone comments on how much all might “looks like a skeleton” and she absolutley lets loose on them for being so vapid and shallow and how “he’s risked his life to save people like you more times than you have ever even thought about being helpful in your life and it would serve you well to treat someone who’d die for you without even knowing you with more respect”

All might had to gently pull her away bc the guy was crying and she wasn’t anywhere near finished with him

Midnight is Asexual and aggressively pretends to be horny on main™️ because for one, it works with her quirk and two, nothing sells better than sex especially when you’re a woman.

Bakugou and kirishima use sign language to talk shit at Public events

Dabi is addicted to painkillers because he’s been on them his entire life,, he wakes up with the shakes and sometimes toga has to help him take his meds in the morning because he’s already in withdrawal

Tensei was the first one to realize that iida was autistic and immediately did copious amounts of research on ASD and how to be a good brother to him

ATLA

sokka grows his hair as long as Zuko’s (except the sides obvi) and sometimes he’ll wear his hair in the fire nation top knot and zuko loses it every time

Azula gets help and now sometimes when she wakes up with the sun after a night of fitful sleep she goes to the courtyard to have tea with iroh. They never talk, but then again they never need to.

Sometimes after a hard day sokka falls asleep in the bathtub and wakes up to zuko warming the water back up and washing his hair for him

Suki lounges in zukos throne while zuko gets worked up about stuff and paces all around the room

Mai is on the ace spectrum

When sokka and zuko visit the southern water tribe zuko will firebend for the all of the kids in the village,,, they love him so much and sometimes sokka gets a little teary eyed watching him

Sokka braids zukos hair water tribe style and it’s the hottest thing maybe ever

Zuko takes sokka on shopping sprees pretty frequently and sokka fuckn loves it

One time someone has the nerve to call sokka “the fire lords sugar baby” and sokka just flips his ponytail over his shoulder Ariana style and says “and what about it?”

The Raven cycle

Ronan has 100% killed Robert Parrish in his dreams and when he wakes up to see Adam next to him he almost immediately wants to go back to sleep and do it again for all the pain he’s caused Adam

Gansey is oblivious to the fact that he is indeed shredded,, when he gets really worked up he moves his arms a l o t like rolls up his sleeves, crosses and uncrosses his arms and The gang’s favorite is when he puts his hands on his head and subconsciously flexes,,,, literally entire gangsey will group swoon at him and he genuinely thinks they are marvelling at his passion for whatever he’s worked up about

Ronan watched broke back mountain once when he was like 16 and now all he can think about is being a gay cowboy ,,,

Adam will read people’s tarot wrong if theyre douchebags

Don’t you think it’s funny that the ganseys don’t have any straight children?

Blue has a T-shirt from each member of the gangsey (except Noah,, rip Noah) and shes created a terrible Franken-T-shirt by ripping them up and sewing them all back together in an extremely ugly patch work thing

Adam talks in Latin in his sleep and it really freaks his roommate out,, like a lot,, not to mention the fact that Adam already creeps him out to begin with bc he’s got that other vibe that comes from being tied to cabeswater and lindenmere ,, 6 out of 7 days his roommate is convinced that he’s a witch or a fairy or something

Ronan teaches opal how to bake and opal burns everything on purpose

aftg

Neil has definitely killed multiple people to survive

Neil’s mom definitely made him kill someone at least twice to make sure he could kill to survive on his own if they got separated

he probably definitely still has nightmares about each one

Matt and Dan both had a crush on Neil for like 30 seconds and absolutely talked to each other about him

Ppl always talk about how hot it is to crush a watermelon with your thighs,,,, Andrew could do it with his arms

Aarons ass is so flat and Andrew has an absolute dumptruck

Kevin started out as one of those annoying “obsessed with WWII” history guys and now he’s actually very into queer history and will rant about the lavender scare for an hour if you let him

The foxes lounge room(?) has a dart board with riko’s face on it to this day,, they literally have a drawer full of copies the same image of riko and every time one gets worn out they put a new one up. It’s more of an inside joke now but wymack still hates that little puke even though he’s dead so it stays up

Post-canon Neil gets drunk and teaches the team how to steal a car by hot wiring Matt’s truck

Matt does drag for halloween one year and Dan liked it a little too much *cough cough* she pegged him while he was still in drag

Someone once asked Renee if she was “saving herself for marriage like a good Christian girl should” and Allison knocked them out cold and stepped over the body

Neil calls Aaron ugly to his face literally any chance he gets (I feel like this one might be canon but I actually don’t know What’s real anymore)

Andrew Unironically wears a pink apron that says “kiss the cook” that Nicky got him for Christmas when he bakes

Okay I think that’s it ? For now?? Let me know if y’all want more,,,,, I’ll separate them next time I just really had to dump these and I didn’t want to make multiple posts.

I made this at 5:30 in the morning sorry if it’s riddled with typos and errors.

[cloud9in]

Promises (Poppy x MC) Part (2/?)

Read Part ONE (summary for fic is there)

ITS BEEN A MINUTE. @iamsimpforpoppy I hope you’re still around to read :P I love this story lol. Hope you guys do too!!!

Word Count (2.8k)

Bea and Poppy’s relationship became official a month after their initial meeting. One would say they moved quickly, too quickly. But every love story is different. This one in particular seemed to have little to none flaws, if you ignored the fact that Bea was promoted to Carter’s right hand woman in the Southside Spades.

 They did end up having that conversation after all.

 “…Are you sure Carter? I mean this is a huge deal and a special role-“

 “If I didn’t think you were capable you wouldn’t be here right now Goldilocks.”

 Carter winked and clinked his half empty beer bottle against Bea’s, who surprisingly had a nearly full bottle. He took note of the abnormality. 

 The blonde instinctively rolled her eyes at the nickname, “Okay but that name has to go. We need codenames……ooooh how about bimbo and himbo.” 

 “I’m guessing…..no, hoping I’m the himbo?!” Carter comments as he promptly tries to stop the laugh escaping from his lips.

 “Mmmmmmm, I’ll get back to you on that.”

 They share a laugh and Bea feels Carter’s gaze latch onto her in her peripherals. She could sense the shift of energy in the space between them, it almost felt uncomfortable, and that was something she never felt with Carter. “I never asked you if you were okay with such a role. If you aren't, I understand completely, I just want the best for you.”

 The blonde eyes soften at his comment and she looks at him, “never doubted that, where is this going though because you never express your feelings like a normal human being.”

 He pulls on the strings of her hoodie until it completely caves around her face, burying her whole.

 “Hey asshole!” 

 “That’s for talking too much.”

 Bea yanks her hoodie open and sticks her tongue out in a mock expression. “Oh boohoo. Poppy literally says the same thing, I don’t get it. I talk, it’s a problem. I don’t talk, it’s an even BIGGER problem. Damn a girl can’t ever exist in peace.”

 Carter places his bottle flat on the table and studies the blonde’s face. 

 She kept rambling on about her new girlfriend and the gang leader didn’t know it was possible to feel happy yet anxious at the same time. He was aware of when they entered the talking stage, went on their first date, and finally became official, because Bea told him everything. As much as the experience of being in a real relationship was new to her, Bea looked up to him and somehow she knew Carter would give her the best guidance possible. 

 It didn’t stop him from worrying. Like an older brother would. He feared the two would mix, and everyone knows that love and crime will eventually combust. He is no stranger to it.  

 “Bea.”

 “Did you know she stole one of my hoodies and actually won’t give it back?? What am I supposed to do, just take it? No she’d murder me.”

 “Jackson.”

 Her voice slowly dies down after sensing the seriousness in his tone. She takes a sip of her beer to ease the silence that sat in the air, and Carter responds shortly after.

 “You know I trust you with my life right? You’re very important to me, kid.” 

 “I know.”

 Guilt was a feeling he chose to lock away in an unbreakable box and bury six feet deep. There couldn’t be guilt in a lifestyle like this. But Bea was his only exception. And she was slowly bringing that box back up to the surface. 

 “I need you to promise me that you won’t let these two worlds collide.”

 “Carter….”

 “One of you will get hurt. And I won’t forgive myself if it’s you.”

 He leaves Bea at the table, the remnants of his comment still replaying in her head. She pulls out her phone and sees a text from Poppy on her lockscreen. 

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Can’t wait to see you tomorrow 😘 

 The blonde smiles unconsciously and opens the message to respond.

 I’m missing you like crazy. I have a special surprise for you.

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- You know I highly dislike surprises, just tell me. 

 And ruin the surprise? You must be crazier than I thought. 

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Jackson.

 Patience babe…tomorrow it is. 

 Bea clicks her phone shut and slips it back into her pocket before downing the rest of the beer. 

***

“You know your hand on my ass only makes them stare even more Jackson?”

 Bea bites her lips and gropes the blonde’s plump backside shamelessly while slowly whispering into her ear.

 “That’s the point, princess.”

 Poppy shivers almost instantly at the boldness. “Is this the surprise you were talking about?” Bea doesn’t answer, instead trailing her hand up Poppy’s skirt. This was definitely not the time and place for such behavior but she was clearly still learning everything about her girlfriend. 

 And it definitely felt good to call her that.

 “Since when did you get so brazen? You know you’re exactly the type of person my daddy told me to stay away from.”

 Bea laughs at that statement and wraps her arm around the blonde’s waist, “yeah? And why’s that?”

 “Well I can’t ask him now, he might rough you up and that’s my job.” 

 Poppy could feel the stares of everyone burning into them, but she could only focus on the blonde cuddled up against her. The shorter girl wouldn’t call herself an attention whore, but she sure loved the PDA that Bea projected without a care. It felt nice to be genuinely admired in public rather than putting on a mask everyday. 

 But it’s safe to say that Poppy preferred all the handsy stuff to happen in private. 

 “Do you want to grab dinner with me tonight Pops?”

 “Am I picking the place?”

 “…Yes.”

 “Then yes.”

 Bea rolls her eyes at the blonde’s downright shady self but smiles nevertheless. 

 “Now don’t cancel on me out of the blue. I will not be thrilled about it.”

 “Shouldn’t I be telling you this? Your dad always has something going on in his business that somehow has to involve you too.”

 Poppy sighs and glances over at Bea, “well you know I’ll have to take over eventually. Especially since I’m legally allowed to handle deals now.”

 “I hate that word. Legal. Ugh.” 

 The shorter girl scoffs and plants her hands on her hips, “yeah I bet you do.”

***

Bea dragged open her closet in search of clothes for dinner tonight but the dinging noise of a text distracts her. 

 C-Dog🖤- Need you tonight. Something came up, meet us at the garage.

Bea wanted to thank the gods up above that she didn’t promise Poppy that she’d show up for dinner. But that wasn’t going to save her from the fury of the blonde. Good thing it can’t get worse than that, right….?

Only it was. And Poppy will probably beat her up herself, if she wasn’t dead by the next day. 

Bea’s mind and heart races as she digs her brain for a proper excuse to tell her girlfriend, but is very unsuccessful. She’s good at drug dealing though. 

 Going with the good ole truth never really hurt right?

 Baby I’m so sorry I won’t be able to make it tonight. Got held up with the gang. I know I’m an asshole, I’ll keep in touch I swear. 

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- What else could I expect from my gang banger girlfriend 🙄 please stay safe..

 You know I always do.

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Do I? We need to talk about this tomorrow.

 Of course Pops.

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Call me every chance you get or I swear I’ll track you and trust me you do not want me to do that.

 Yeah she definitely doesn’t. Especially since Carter sounded frantic over the phone. The last thing Bea needed was a paranoid girlfriend, so she played it cool like always. 

 Just simple stuff baby girl, talk soon.

 ***

“…What do you mean it’s gone?! So where is it? Do you know what this means Carter??”

 The gang leader sighs frustratingly, rubbing his eyes in efforts to gain some stability. “The product was here, and now it is not. Which can only mean it was stolen. And when I find out which son of a bitch did it, they’re dead.”

 “In the meantime, we are dead”, Bea emphasizes wildly. “This is the Red Raven gang we’re talking about. If they get any inclination that we lost their drugs, they’ll kill and replace us. No mercy. None.”

The blonde paces back and forth trying not to think about buying a plane ticket to Timbuktu. 

Carter approaches Bea and plants his hands on her shoulder, “breathe Jackson. You are my partner. The leader of this gang. So get it out of your system and start being rational.”

 The blonde lets her shoulders sag as she inhales and exhales in place for a while. The minute she’s grounded she catches Carter’s gaze and her eyes light up. “List. I need a list of whoever went in the room with all of the product. We need to narrow it down.”

***

“Jackson you’re a fucking genius.”

 “It’s called having common sense but I’ll take the praise. It’s the only one I’m getting from you anyways.”

 Carter resisted the urge to pick a fight with the younger girl, because finding stolen drugs and not getting killed seemed like a much better idea. 

 Bea figured out that Henry, one of the newly recruited members of SS was a thief, or maybe just a crackhead. Same thing. He was the last to be in that room so all eyes were on him, and guns.

 “Heyyy buddy. Henry right?”

 The shorter man trembled at the sight of a gun lodged right into his mouth. “Mmmm!”

 “Oh I’m sorry, did you want to say something? Here let me just”, Bea clicks the gun which only causes the thief to panic even more. It was almost pitiful. 

 “Alright lay off the poor sucker.” 

 Bea pulls the gun out of his mouth and sits down on a stool in front of Henry with a grin. “So…where is the stash darling?” 

 He points almost immediately to a built in storage locker with a shaky finger. 

 “Ohhh well that was so easy Henry! Glad you could comply. You should tell your friends to be more like you. But…between me and you, they might already be dead”, Bea whispers that last part slowly, smirking when Henry’s lip quivers violently. 

 “Please just do it already! Why are you guys waiting?”

 Bea raised an eyebrow in surprise and glanced over at Carter who scanned the man’s face intensely. “I guess he wants to die? Talk about kinks I mean come on”

 “No.”

 Carter reaches his arm out towards Bea but never takes his eyes off Henry. The blonde watches in confusion until she realizes the thief is looking behind her, and so is Carter.

 “It’s a setup Bea, duck!”

 She dived for the ground quicker than lightning as a bullet flies through the air, leaving a trail of dust behind. Carter ducks for cover as well and starts firing rounds towards the men who snuck up on them. He managed to hit three of them but one grabs Bea by the leg and drags her against the rough concrete. 

 “Son of a- get your dirty hands off of my Dr. Martens. My girlfriend bought me these!”

 A swift kick to the face shut the blonde up real quick but she manages to recoil and send the man sprawling backwards into a row of barrels. 

 Carter guns him down and Bea finds her footing, pistol in hand and a thirst for revenge. But they never stopped coming. 

 Her and Carter were left battered and bruised, but alive. Their product was gone again though. But atleast they were alive. Carter told her that it was a theft mission primarily and neither of them were meant to die. But it only made Bea wonder who those people were.

 And why were they kept alive?

***

“Beatriz Naomi Jackson what the actual fuck?!”

 “Oh not the middle name…”

 Bea tries to avoid Poppy’s killer gaze as she surveys the damage that had been done to her girlfriend’s torso, legs, and face. 

 The strawberry blonde could barely mutter a word. Her mouth opened and closed in brief shock before collapsing next to the injured girl. 

 Bea could see the tears flowing down her rosy cheeks, which contrasted her porcelain skin. “Poppy…are you crying? I..please don’t..”

 “What do you expect me to do Bea? It kills me to see you hurt like this. Who did it? Tell me!” The blonde chokes on her own words as her hands hovers cautiously over Bea’s wounds, afraid to make her feel pain.

 “No I can’t tell you. I mean…I didn’t expect this to happen. It was a setup and we were outnumbered-“

 “We need to get you to a hospital Bea oh my god.”

 The blonde knew that she couldn’t go there. Not with the cops on the scene of the shootout, and actively looking for the people involved. Aka her and Carter. He told her to lay low and heal up, but she didn’t expect Poppy to be sitting on her bed waiting for her when she got home. The initial look on her face made Bea regret ever choosing this life. 

 She regrets it ever since being with Poppy. But it’s like a drug, once you start it’s hard to stop. 

 “I’ll call my father, he has the best doctors available and we’re gonna get your the right treatment and-“ 

 Poppy immediately cuts off, her eyebrows scrunching up until she realizes something. “Wait…what do you mean you were outnumbered Bea?” 

 Bea swallows heavily, praying that this conversation couldn’t escalate further, but that isn’t the case. 

 “Bea, answer me”

 “It..it was just me and Carter. We didn’t think there would be an ambush. We had just gone there to get goods we lost.”

 “And where is Carter? Does he know you’re like this right now? Did he leave you, I swear to god Bea if he left you…” Poppy’s voice cracks as her whole body shivers in violent waves. 

 Bea pulls her girlfriend in for a hug even though it causes every inch of her body to sting harshly. It was the comfort that she needed though. Watching Poppy breakdown over the sight of her was too much, and she began to contemplate everything. 

 “Pops listen to me, I cannot go to the hospital right now. There are cops looking for us.” The strawberry blonde stares at her until she understands the velocity of Bea’s words. 

 “Fine. But there will be a doctor that will come to treat you at my house. And you’re coming, I don’t want to hear it.” 

 Bea knew not to protest that. It was quite obvious this whole incident has left both parties distraught and she didn’t want to try and tell Poppy how to feel. 

 “Just tell me something. Are you in immediate danger? Is someone trying to harm you right now.”

 The blonde chose her words carefully. Because even after coming home beaten to a pulp, she still couldn’t tell the love of her life the full truth. 

 “No Poppy, they just wanted the drugs. They got what they wanted. I’m not in danger.”

 For now.

 “I will be okay.”

 I hope.

 “Don’t lie to me Jackson. I can’t do this if you lie. You promised me you wouldn’t get to the point where you’d have to choose between me and the gang.”

 “I know Poppy…I-“

 “You promised.”

 “And I’m going to keep that promise-“

 “Yeah the hell you are. And you’re going to promise me that you won’t ever come home like this again. You’re going to get yourself killed before we even start our life together. Our future.”

 Bea sucks in a breath which punctures her chest. She couldn’t tell if the injuries or Poppy’s words had caused that terrible ache. “Our…Wait I..”

 “I love you Jackson. I…don’t care if you think it’s too early to say that. I don’t care if I sound too cheesy for a mean girl. I love kissing you and feeling the laughter run through your body when we hug. I love being the reason you smile. I love you. And you don’t have to say it back. I just..I needed you to know-“

 “I love you too. Probably maybe from the moment I met you.”

 Poppy’s eyes seemed to glisten once again and this time there was no sadness etched into the shape. She smiled a pure smile and wrapped her arms around Bea in a tight hug. 

 She captures her lips in a searing kiss that leads to a trail of kisses down the strawberry blonde’s neck, dip of her collarbone, and chest. Bea kisses her until her chest gives out from exhaustion and pain.

 “Then you have to promise that this won’t happen again.” 

 “I promise.”

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

NOTES: They’re gonna be fineeeee, right guys??? Graduation next chapter woooo.

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme  @baexpoppy @poppysmc @doey-eyes8 @veenast @straightlikewetspaghetti @phoennixxsblog

[imjustwritingg]

partners

Just a short and sweet fic of a few things I thought about for 8x07. Enjoy and let me know what you think! 

You can read it on AO3 and FFNet.

The Intelligence team finally had a lead on a gang affiliated drug crew they’d been trying to get off the streets. Jay and Adam had been successful in infiltrating a meth ring and were gearing up for what would be their final undercover buy to hopefully flip a couple of brothers in the game. Once they did that they would be once step closer to bringing down the entire operation.

“Please be careful,” Hailey said quietly to her partner.

It was just the two of them in the equipment room while the rest of the team had headed down to the roll-up. The buy was happening within the hour and they would have to leave soon.

“It’ll be a piece of cake. Ruz and I will do the buy, Kim and Kev will pull up and make the arrest, and we’ll flip the Becerra brothers before lunch to get the big fish,” Jay told her.

He watched Hailey carefully and noticed the slight shake of her hands as she clipped an audio wire to the collar of his shirt. Once the wire was secured she did a one-two test to check the sound quality and when she was satisfied with the result, she flattened his collar against his neck. She lowered her hands and fastened the top buttons of his shirt, and then dropped her arms to her sides.

He couldn’t ignore the look of worry in her eyes and stepped closer to her. He reached for one of her hands and squeezed her fingers, and then followed her eyes as she glanced down to their joined hands. She took a deep breath as she looked back up at him.

“I mean it, Jay. No cowboy stuff. Voight and I are hanging back, and you and Ruz are gonna be unarmed. Promise me you’ll be careful,” Hailey told him as she squeezed his hand.

Jay took another step towards her and closed the little space that was left between them. He lifted his free hand to her face and held it in his palm while he brushed his thumb over her cheek. She leaned her face into his hand and brought her free arm up to rest around his waist.

“I promise. Besides, I got a hot date tonight. Don’t want her thinking I stood her up,” he said as he grinned down at her.

“Oh really? Lucky girl,” Hailey said with a small smile.

He shook his head at her. “I think I’m the lucky one.”

Hailey rolled her eyes, but still smiled up at him. “You’re also the cheesy one.”

“You like it,” he whispered.

He glanced over her shoulder and clocked the closed door. They were still alone so he leaned his head down and pressed his lips against hers. It was soft and sweet and over far too soon than either would have liked it to be.

“Maybe I like it a little bit,” Hailey admitted a moment later.

Jay smiled at her again before he dropped one last kiss into her hair and then they pulled themselves away from one another. They packed up the unused equipment and made their way downstairs to the rest of the team, both hoping the next hour would go by easily enough.

5021 Eddie…10-1, 10-1! Shots fired at police…

Of course it couldn’t be easy. Shots rang out and chaos ensued in the blink of an eye. Within seconds of hearing the distress call, Hailey and Voight were running out of the bullpen and down to their SUV’s. They peeled out of the parking lot one after the other and drove towards the scene as fast as possible with their lights flashing and sirens blaring.

All Hailey could think about was the fact that her partner, her boyfriend, the man she was so stupidly in love with, was unarmed and taking fire alongside Adam, and potentially Kim and Kevin as well. She pressed her foot down harder against the gas pedal at the thought and sped past her Sergeant.

The radio crackled again a minute later and Hailey’s heart seized inside her chest before another set of words echoed throughout the car.

5021 David…officers are not hit. I repeat, officers are not hit…

Hailey let out a long breath she hadn’t even realized she had been holding at the sound of Kevin’s voice. They were okay. He was okay.

When Hailey and Voight finally arrived at the scene, what felt like too long an amount of time later, they parked their cars and headed down the alley. As they made their way towards the rest of the team, her eyes scanned the faces of patrol officers and members of the forensics team, and then she spotted Kim and Kevin, followed by Adam and finally her eyes landed on Jay. They really were okay. She let out another sigh of relief as she saw it for herself even though she had heard Kevin’s all clear over the radio from just moments before.

Jay met Hailey’s eyes and the pair shared a brief look before he gave her a single nod of his head. It was further confirmation that he was alright and she found herself able to take another breath of relief as she felt her fast beating heart finally begin to relax. He stood beside her while the rest of the team filled her and Voight in on the details of what happened. It took all the control she had inside of her not to reach for her partner’s hand.

The team dispersed after their Sergeant gave his orders and Hailey headed for her Jeep. Jay followed after her and the pair fell in step side by side as they walked up the street together.

Once they were settled inside her SUV, Hailey blew out a long sigh as she leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes. Jay looked over at her and reached for her hand from the passenger seat. He laced their fingers together and squeezed tightly, making Hailey open her eyes at the contact. When she turned to look at him, he took quick notice of her tears that had formed.

“I – “

“I know,” he cut her off as he squeezed her hand again. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hailey said with a rasp to her voice.

“I promised you I’d be careful,” he said with a matching tone.

Hailey shook her head and pulled their joined hands into her lap, placing her other over top of them. “You were careful. It’s not like you could have known there would be a shooter. It was supposed to be easy.”

“Maybe, but still. I know how worried you must have been, Hails.”

“That’s putting it lightly. When I heard that call over the radio, it scared the crap out of me,” she told him.

He squeezed her hand again, feeling the way her fingers trembled in his grasp. The adrenaline had worn off and the stress of the situation settled in around them, what-could-have-been scenarios buzzing through their minds.

“I’m okay, Hailey. I’m right here with you,” he reminded her.

She nodded at his words as he tried to reassure her and took another deep breath while they kept their eyes on one another.

“You should strongly consider making Kevlar a part of your daily wardrobe. It’s like you’re a magnet for bullets,” she attempted to joke, but all it did was make the tears in her eyes fall and roll down her cheeks.

“Come here,” Jay whispered.

He tugged on her hand and she didn’t fight it when he pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her as best he could over the center console. He threaded a hand through her hair and brought her head into the crook of his neck.

“I’m okay,” Jay whispered again into her hair. She nodded against his shoulder and gripped the back of his jacket with her fists. They held onto each other and he shushed her when he heard the distinct sounds of her sniffling.

When he was sure her cries had subsided several moments later, Jay released his hold on his partner and pulled back to look at her. He wasn’t prepared to see her eyes glistening and red from the onslaught of tears.

“Ugh,” Hailey groaned as she settled back against her seat and wiped under her eyes. “I’m sorry for being so emotional over this.”

Jay shook his head and smiled at her. “Don’t be sorry. It’s a good feeling knowing there’s someone who cares if something happens to me.”

“You’d be an idiot to think I don’t,” Hailey told him. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment, and then she pulled her seatbelt across her lap. He followed suit as she turned the ignition over and started the short trip back to the district.

“I’m just glad it wasn’t you in my position,” Jay said to her a minute into their drive.

Hailey glanced over as she came to a stop light and smirked at him. “Why’s that? You an ugly crier?”

Jay rolled his eyes at her teasing tone and reached for her hand again, a need to touch her taking over.

“It’s hard to find a good partner,” he said. The memory of the last time he’d said those exact words to her suddenly filling his head, followed by the realization of just how much things had changed between them since then.

“Is that right?” Hailey asked with a smirk still on her face.

“Mmhmm, and I don’t just mean on the job. I like having you around,” he told her.

Jay kept his eyes on her and watched as her teasing smirk turned into a soft smile while she pondered the meaning behind his words. It was a quick realization that they weren’t just partners at work, but in every other meaning of the word as well.

Friend. Confidant. Lover. They were all of it. They were everything.

Hailey gave a slow nod of her head and squeezed his hand that was still clasped tightly around hers. “I kinda like having you around too, partner.”

[elphiej]

Be My Light: Prologue

*Pairing: Yoonig X Reader, possible OT7 X Reader (Undecided)

*Genre: Mafia, angst, eventual smut, slow burn

*Warnings: N/A (Yet)

*Summary: In the city of Central, a dark shadow rises as an evil from their past threatens to destroy the members of Bangtan and seize control of the city. While struggling against the rival gangs, as well as their own inner turmoils, they find their journey intertwined with a girl who’s past is a mystery, even to herself. She is lost and broken, but finds she has little choice but to trust the gang members as she becomes a target of the rival gang and drug lords. As they protect their new charge, the boys start to feel things they haven’t thought they would ever have. Can she help them fight against the shadows of their past? Can she melt the cold persona of Bangtan’s second in command? Can they be a beacon for her in own darkness? And can they help her unlock the secrets of her past and help her find her inner strength? 

(I’m terrible at writing summaries. Please let me know what you think)

              Be My Light 

               The last few stars in twilight sky illuminates the chrome skyline, barely a soul was awake, as a black SUV pulled up to the curb by a half-constructed office space in the lower part of the City. Hardly anyone who lived in the massive metropolis was about at such an early hour. Especially in this lower section of Central City, where it was mostly cheap apartments, shops, and construction. Central City- barely anyone remembered its true name after the ‘First’ Gangs bestowed the code name upon the citizens. The driver gazed across the empty street to the massive skeleton of a building that loomed in the fading twilight, not liking the ominous feeling that radiated from it like heat from the car’s air conditioner.  Nothing about this seemed right and his anxiety settled deep within his gut. This was not the usual drop zone and too far from their own territory. The construction cranes and bulldozers that were deadly still, like a warning, loomed about the shell of the shopping center the civil government thought would bring some life and safety back to this part of the city. The massive, five story building had too many unknown factors for him; there were too many places to hide, too many shadows, too many things to use against them should things go south. He sank lower into the driver seat, anxiety settling like a stone in his gut. It didn’t matter how many of these drops he had done or how many times he had seen things go one way or the other, he still got nervous. He turned his attention to the other member in the car, trying to distract himself.

               In the passenger seat, seemingly asleep and unbothered, was a young man who was older in years but shorter in stature than the driver.  He had pale skin and platinum blonde hair, dressed up in a simple black shirt and ripped black jeans, with a blood red, long hooded coat, that gave him a vampiric or bringer of death vibe. Fitting for what may happen, the driver thought. His arms were crossed against his chest and his head was leaning against the window. The eldest had been in the same position since they had left their garage a few hours ago. He seemed almost calm, which the younger allotted to his hyung’s experience with the rival gang.  However, quite the opposite was the presence in the back, who had stretched himself to lounge on the back seat. There laid an angelic youth with golden, wavy hair and a mischievous glint in his eyes. He was yin and yang personified to those who had seen him in action. The angel had his phone above his face, tapping furiously in a game, the light illuminating his innocent features and smile. The driver knew that once they entered the building that the innocent look would change to something scary once they entered the building. If looks could kill, the driver trailed off. Having both his hyungs with him and both seeming calm should help put him at ease. It was a good team they had in the car and had done much harder things before. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that loomed over him.

               “Hyung,” he said, softy, looking at the sleeping passenger. The other seemed dead to the world, so he repeated himself louder. Only when the other made a noise of acknowledgment did he continue. “Are we sure this is the place?”

               The passenger opened his dark eyes and looked across the driver to the construction site. His eyes moved to out his own window before nodding. The angel stopped playing his game and sat up longer enough to confirm with this companion. It wasn’t quite the reassurance the younger man was hoping to get.

               “Hyung, I don’t like this” he said. “This doesn’t feel right. We’re doing a drop, right? This isn’t hallowed ground. It’s a half-constructed building that none of us have any knowledge of. This can’t be the site.”

               “This is where RM said to go. This is the place the asshole wanted to do this. Said they feel safer here,” the passenger said, his voice low and rough from being woken.

               The angel leaned forward between the two of them, thumbs still moving quickly across the screen. “Those guys are just scared,” he said, his voice as light and airy as his appearance. “They keep losing men because they don’t train them right. Once their boss disappeared, they can barely keep their heads above water. They think being on their turf will scare us or something. Think we’re more likely to agree in order not to cause any trouble. That we’ll be too cautious to draw any blood.” His eyes shifted to the driver, and the devil within shone through for a moment. “Not like that would stop us, right Jungkook-ah?”

               “Ease the blood-shed, Jiminie,” the eldest warned. “This is just an exchange. We get in and get out. They promised a standoff, no weapons. So we should oblige the goons.”

               “Then why do we have a weapon stash with us” Jungkook asked with a playful, knowing smile.

               “Because we’re not stupid. Ji may have been bound by the Accords, but he was still a deceitful fuck, played by whatever rule got him to where he was. And he taught his dongsaengs to do the same. Now that he’s disappeared, they’ve gotten more chaotic. Look what happened to Hoseok last month when they jumped him in the middle of the street. They’re getting messy. We’re lucky Moonbyul and some X-ers were in the area, else Hobi and some civilians would have been worse off.”

               “Come on, Hyung. Are you tell us that if Choi’s in there, you’re not gonna give him a couple more bruises to match the old ones? I’m sure he’d like a matching set,” Jimin said leaning back in his seat.

               “We’re not gonna stoop to their level. We’ll show them how to act. But,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a switch blade, and smiled, “if he is there and wants to start shit with me, I’ll be happy to give him a scar like he tried to give Hobi.”

               Jimin and Jungkook looked at each other, grinning. Within their own group, they were all remarkably close, basically family. They all looked out for and took care of each other. But their Yoongi-hyung was even more protective of his younger brothers, always secretly doing things for them when they least expected it. On the outside, he was hard, quiet, and calculating. But on the side, they knew he was softy (though they dare not say that in his presence).

               Yoongi slipped the knife back into his red trench coat’s inner pocket and checked his watch. It was not quite time to meet with the Royals, though they knew them better as Goons or Jackasses. But it was time to check in with their secret surveillance. He pulled out his phone and made a call. Ringing filled the silent car through the speakers. It did not take long before the ring stopped, and deep voice replaced it.

               “Hyung,” it whined, “you finally call! I’ve been freezing out here since sundown, watching this damn building. I’m cold and lonely!”

               “Lonely my ass, Taehyung. You’ve been texting Jimin since you got there and playing that damn mobile game since two. You do realize you’re supposed to be look out. Or do I need to find someone who actually care about our safety to replace you next time?”

               “What? Hyung, no! I’ve been doing my job, I swear,” Taehyung said frantically, his voice wavering as if he was about to cry. “I can multi-task, I swear. We’ve only played a couple rounds, I promise. Please, Hyung, have mercy on me! You know I don’t like being alone. Please don’…,” his voice trailed off.

               Jimin grabbed the phone from Yoongi. “Taehyung-ah, it’s okay. Yoongi-Hyung is just kidding. He’s smiling, really.”

               “If that’s what you want to call it,” Jungkook laughed.

               As quickly as Taehyung’s sobbing began, it just as quickly turned into a deep laugh. “I know. I can hear it in his voice. Not nice, Yoongi-shi. We really need to work on your people skills”

               “Anyways, what is happening out there?” Yoongi loomed forward to look out the windshield to the building across from the meeting place. A top the highest building, he could just make out the body sitting there. Had he not known what he was looking for, or had an idea where Taehyung had positioned himself, he would have missed him. The lookout had positioned himself across from the back of the building where the Goons would be entering at, in order to stay a few steps ahead of them.

               “Barely anything has happened since I got here. Once the sun went down, all the people cleared the street. It’s been quite here. The civilians are probably worried about the Goons’ new recruits causing trouble at night. Only three cars have come down this way. And you’re number three. There’s some more construction to the west, some little family shops and alleys to the east, and a couple apartment housings to the north of here. So the civilians are safe from the cross-fire, if there is any.” He stopped talking for a sec, only to let out a loud, triumphant ‘yah’. “Got you, Jimin. That’s for cheating last round. I win! You owe me some honey rice cakes.” Said cheater threw his phone on the back seat with a growl, which only made Taehyung laugh more.

               Yoongi rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. “Why did I not ask Jin-Hyung to come with me?”

               “Because Jin-Hyung is taking care of Hoseok-Hyung. And RM-Hyung is trading that ‘equipment’ we picked up with Solar’s crew for some more fire power,” Jimin explained, leaning forward to rest his chin on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Besides, we’re the dream team right here. Taehyung’s a great lookout with his attention to details. And he’s a strong back up in a brawl. Jungkook’s the most daring getaway driver, next to Jin-Hyung, and is the muscle. And you and I are the best shots. How can you top that?”

               Yoongi shrugged Jimin off him. “Fine, but stay focused. No more games, you two.”

               Taehyung chuckled deeply. “Ok, Grandpa. I promise.”

               From his place atop the building, Taehyung smiled down at the SUV. After so many hours of nothing happening, their reunion had woken him up and gave him some much-needed energy. He listened as Jungkook started asking Jimin about the game, and Yoongi grumbling every now and again. He stretched his long arms up, and checked on the screens in front of him. The time of the drop was approaching but there had been no activity in the building across from him. He and Jimin had snuck into the building a few days earlier and placed some hidden cameras all over. He tapped a few buttons on his screen, switching from floor to floor, his eyes taking in every detail. No change. The building was just as empty as it was when he first got there. He checked the time in the lower corner of his screen; it was only a few minutes before the appointed time and still no sign of the enemy. If there was one thing Taehyung liked about the absent head of the rival gang was his attention to time and arriving to an appointment early. Time was everything and, without him, they lacked it

               You’ve got shit timing, a voice echoed from the farthest reaches of his mind.

               His fingers froze on the keyboard. Why was that making an appearance? That deep, sinister voice had been lurking on the edge of his attention ever since Hoseok was jumped. His hyung didn’t remember most of that attack, let alone who was the spearhead. He recalled being jumped from behind by some lower level recruits that he may have recognized, and that he dealt with a few of them before they pinned him on his knees. And he remembered a pair of expensive, designer shoes coming into his line of vison before a cane cracked him in the face. Moonbyul, a member of the Mama gang from the Northern side of town, had been one of the first to come to his aid. Taehyung had only met her once but remember that she was a strong and intimidating, and a fierce fighter. Joohyun and Shownu of the X-ers he knew better from all their gangs’ interactions. They had been looking for a good restaurant when they heard the commotion and sprang to help. Joohyun swore that he saw the elusive Choi there in fray, yet neither Moonbyul or Shownu were sure if he was there or not. Choi had always been like a shadow, appearing and disappearing when he pleased. No one had heard of his actions for almost four years. And, in the two-year absence his leader, Ji, no one was quite sure who had taken over as temporary leader. There had been clues that Choi could have returned to take over; he was the oldest member of the generals, had been a right hand man for Ji, and was more secretive of his doings then some of the other Generals would have been. The idea of Choi being back in Central made Taehyung anxious; old, painful memories had started to resurface. Things that Taehyung had worked through and had lapsed into a comfortable mindset when they thought that bastard had disappeared. Just the thought that Choi may be back made him wonder if that meant Ji was back too and what that may do to his members.

               Taehyung didn’t have much time to dwell as movement from one of the cameras caught his attention. He clicked into the camera that was stationed on the opposite side of the construction site, where the back-loading docks were to see three black Royces with their lights off came to a stop. Here we go, he thought as pulled a folded bandana from his jacket and slipped it up under his dyed gray locks.  Zooming in, he saw a few Royal members that he recognized from past fights. Some were boxers and a few MMA fighters, but they were slower than his trim and light members. The rest looked new, young and jittery. Maybe just a training run, Taehyung thought. It wouldn’t be out of place. RM and Jin had taken him on drops and exchanges when he first joined.  Altogether, there were twelve Royal members. That alone made Taehyung nervous; there were too many factors playing out in his head. He knew that between himself, Jimin, Jungkook, and Yoongi, they could deal with them if they decided to do something stupid. One member Taehyung, Chen, knew well enough from their encounters was a high-ranking member and was normally the leader of the squad. He was slightly decent about following the Accords. Maybe this will go fine.

               That was, until he watched Chen go to the third Rolls Royce and opened the back door.

               The first thing that came into view was a pair of expensive, silver dress shoes. Then a matching ornate cane. Taehyung could feel his breath catching in his throat. Out of the car, dressed in a light colored three-piece suit with a white fur coat draped over his broad shoulders, stepped Choi. His gloved hand ran through his quaffed frosted hair as he gave instructions to his minions. The little smirk that appeared through the computer screen was all it took for Taehyung’s mind to instantly transport him back to the worst night of his entire life. He could feel those gloved hands on his neck and shoulder while Choi’s companion laughed like a crazed child behind him. That sadistic smile was one of the last things he remembered seeing before he was shoved deep into the freezing darkness.

               Here’s your punishment for your disrespect. Do me a favor and don’t die too quick. My brother wants his turn to play with you. Now, deep breath, Choi breathed in his ear.  

                    His heart started to beat harder and panic began to grip hold of him. He didn’t want to think about it, not now. He thought he was past all this. But, with the chances of seeing the general who tormented him, only made his breath check in his throat. Get a grip, he mentally screamed, get over it. Don’t let him win! But all he could focus of was the wet, chill creeping up from his toes, his lungs restricting, the muted sounds in his ears…He gripped his phone like a life-line, running through what his team taught him when he got like this. Taehyung closed his eyes and tried to count. He tried to focus on a happier memory, but the onslaught of panic surged onward. He tried to force himself to take an unsteady breath, shaking his dyed gray locks from his sweaty face. Focus, breath. He kept repeating it. But his lungs felt like they were in a vice, like they were filling up with ice cold fear. There were hands gripping him, dragging him deeper into the dark memory. And he felt like he was swimming against a current. It wasn’t until Jimin’s voice seemed to cut through the rushing in his ears that he felt he had a lifeline. Where his silence may not have seemed like anything to the others at that moment, Jimin seemed to sense the change, even without seeing him. Taehyung clung to his best friend’s words and took a shaky breath into his burning lungs. Then, another and another. Just like he did when this same nightmare plagued him for an entire year. And as quickly as it came on, the dark hands pulled back into the deepest part of his memory.

               Jimin called out to him again as his eyes opened, and Jungkook’s followed asking if everything was alright. Tae let his eyes fall on his computer screen to ground himself back into his reality. Everything is fine. Focus on the screens. There were only two men by the cars now, blocking the loading dock from any surprise attack. Where did the others go? Tapping quickly on the keyboard, he cycled through the different cameras. The ground floor was only occupied by the large support beams and boxes of different building material. The second floor had empty shells for stores. The third and fourth were much of the same, with only scaffolding, tools, and more large boxes. The fifth floor was were the designer had wanted to put an event hall based on the layout; wide open with decorative columns lining the middle of the space, windows that looked out to the distant skyline of the city, and a marble floor that hadn’t been finished yet. Like the other floors, metal scaffolding and work tables littered the area, and unpacked crates and such were dispersed. At the edge of the camera Taehyung had placed by the entrance, he finally spotted Choi and the rest of the goons. As his eyes darted about the screen, taking in every detail he needed, he sat a bit straighter and shifted from the playful Tae into a different being. Now in the position of lookout and back gunner was V.

               “Tae, you ok up there? You’re too quiet. I think Jimin’s about to scale this building to check on you,” Yoongi’s voice rang through the phone, behind it was Jimin’s quite voice asking the same.

               “Suga-Hyung,” V voice was much deeper and serious than Taehyung’s, signaling to the car that something was up, “They’re here. Three cars at the back-loading dock. Two men stayed with the cars. There are thirteen in total.”

               “That’s more than normal for a drop like this,” Jungkook wearily said.

               “Hyung,” V continued, “Choi is with them.”

               From his place in the car, Yoongi nodded silently. That was all the info he needed to know that this wouldn’t be a normal interaction like they had hoped. The confirmation that Choi was, indeed, back in the picture meant that the game was about to be much more dangerous. He looked across to his younger friends, knowing from the look on their faces that they understood that too.

               “Where are they V-shi?”

               “Choi and the others are in the fifth-floor hall like they said. Their situated in the back of the room. Take the elevator on the ground floor and it’ll open into the space. There’s enough room to keep some distance between you guys and there are enough obstacles, in case. I can’t see from this angle if they’re true to their word about the weapons but there’s a couple boxes I didn’t see when I set up.”

               “Good job, V,” Yoongi said. “Once we get into the building, make your way down and to the back. Pay the two lookouts a visit. Then, keep low in case we need you. I’ll have the in-ear if something comes up. Jimin, you’ll stay with me. Jungkook, you stay a little behind with the package. Everyone just follow my lead and stay alert. Let them think we’re as dumb as Choi likes to think of us. Got it?”

               Yoongi had slid into Suga, the mafia persona he had adapted over the years. Suga was calculative, alert, intimidating to those who didn’t know him, and able to set the world on fire with a turn of phrase. He straightened his red coat and flipped up the hood to block against the cold as he pushed open the door. Jungkook let out a breath, nervous energy still rampant but his drive to succeed against all odd weighted it out. He mumbled a ‘goodbye’ to Taehyung and turned off the car, shoving the keys into his black hoodie’s pocket. He let his gaze wander in the rearview to see Jimin had already slid his rose-tinted glasses he had grabbed before leaving their hideout onto his face and ran his finger through his blonde hair. A bit of his bangs slipped back across one of his eyes. And with that simple gesture, the angelic, mischievous persona had been replaced with a devilish powerhouse one who wouldn’t stop until the job is done. The differences between normal Jimin to gang member Jimin would make anyone wonder if two different people. It still creeped Jungkook out when his hyung’s happy mask would slip when they got into a disagreement. Said hyung noticed Jungkook staring, and those dark eyes melted a bit when the younger’s doe eyes quickly looked away. He smiled a bit and reached for the black bucket hat that Jungkook had thrown into the back seat when they left.

               “Don’t look so worried. We’ll be good,” Jimin said, placing the hat over Jungkook’s long dark hair. The maknae wasn’t entirely sure if Jimin meant that the meeting would well or if that they’d behave. Honestly, he didn’t think it’d matter.

               Suga leaned his head back into the car. “Jimin, why don’t you let our guest out? I’m sure they didn’t appreciate all those pot holes JK decided to hit.”

               JK gave a small smirk as the wickedly, mischievous glint reappeared in Jimin’s eyes. He slid from the back seat and made his way around to the truck. He gave the metal a good kick before opening the hatch, the person inside letting out a surprised yelp as they were yanked out and down to the cold asphalt. The rat was blindfolded, gagged, and bound. He had tried to infiltrate one of their warehouses. He was young and inexperienced, trying to blend in with the new batch of recruits. And he almost went unnoticed, had they not had the best surveillance known to any gang in all of Central. Jimin almost felt sorry for him. Lord knows, he was treated better with them than his own group. But that wasn’t enough for Jimin not to scare him a bit more with a couple good shoves and breathy threats as they made their way through the crisp early morning air towards the uncertainty that lay inside the building.

               With each step towards the towering building, no longer were the three the friendly band of brothers who had spent the two hours driving around, laughing, talking, and singing obnoxiously loud to the radio. With each step, they were the most feared gang to walk the streets of Central since the Royals were in their prime. They were the most powerful group to rise from nothing to the greatest empires in the history of Central.

               They were Bangtan.

[chaoticminhos]

crash and burn

pairing: han jisung x reader x hwang hyunjin

genre: angst, smut (hyunjin) mafia au

warnings: bomb explosion, injury.

word count: 10.5k

a/n: mafia jisung was requested, as was power play/fighting for dominance with hyunjin, so I combined them together to make a spicier plot >:) not very proof read

run away.

what a powerful human instinct. when put in a situation of possible danger, humans have two options; fight through it or run away from it. you’d always been one to run if the possibility came up, and your current situation was no exception.

your heart pounded against your rib cage as you ran with the little bit of effort you had left inside of you. the meeting had gone south and you received one order from chan- get back to the base safe.

being the only girl on the mission, you were the most heavily followed when your team split, aside from chan, of course, nothing was more important than capturing the leader.

you didn’t know exactly how many people were following you, but you heard at least three sets of feet running behind you. luckily for you, you were in your side of town. you knew the terrain and they didn’t.

you bolted into a dim alleyway, running through it and towards a crowded part of the town. even at night, there were bound to be people. way too many people for the people chasing you to do anything and not get caught.

you didn’t make it to your destination, though. as you ran past a particular building, a door swung open and you were dragged in as the door slapped behind you and you heard the lock click.

immediately you began to struggle. you were so damn close to safety, you were not getting caught now, not by some bastard who-

“y/n, jesus christ, calm the fuck down.”

you relaxed at the voice, but still worked to free yourself of his grip.

“what the fuck, jisung? i was almost safe in town.”

he kept his hold on you, holding your body close to his, “and now you’re safe here. and you’re with me, that’s an added bonus.”

as much as you wanted to be mad at him for scaring you like he had, you couldn’t bring yourself to keep a scowl on your face when he was holding you so close and looking at you like he was.

he leaned down and placed a kiss to your lips before taking your hand and leading you through the building and towards an exit on the other side.

“you were the only one not home yet, chan got worried.”

you laughed, “so he sent the least trained team member to save me?”

he raised an eyebrow, “just because i’m newest doesn’t mean i’m not trained well.”

you shrugged, he wasn’t wrong. jisung had only joined your brother’s group a couple months ago, but he was one hell of a learner. he picked up on firearms almost immediately despite having only basic experience with them. he was amazing at hand to hand combat, already better than hyunjin despite him having nearly a year over jisung in training. that wasn’t to say hyunjin was bad at combat, it just meant jisung was freaky good.

he cracked open a door and peaked out before deciding it was clear and leading you back outside. he seemed calm, but his free hand, the one not holding onto yours, was secure to the weapon in his waistband. it could be assumed that the men chasing you had given up by now, but one could never be sure.

it wasn’t a far walk to the mansion, not that you’d mind if it was. you had no problem spending time alone with jisung.

he wasn’t your boyfriend, but you’d say you had a romantic relationship with him. you’d hooked up with him too many times and he held your hand far too often not to classify it as a relationship. that’s how you thought of it, anyway. the two of you never discussed it.

jisung typed in the code to unlock the door and stepped in before you. you were met with the rest of the members sitting and waiting for your return. it was usual to have a full group meeting after a mission, especially one that went as wrong as this one had.

the only open places were separate from each other. so you released jisung’s hand from yours and took the closest one, which was between hyunjin and your brother, chan. 

“obviously we took a blow tonight. it was stupid of me to think we could trust them despite their connections to our enemy. i’m fine with the hit as long as none of you got hurt. still, we can’t let them get away with stealing from us. we’re going to have to retaliate.” he stood, he was referring to the thousands of dollars in the bags he’d brought to make a fair trade that ended up being stolen, “get some rest and we’ll discuss a plan in the morning.”

it didn’t take more than that to convince the majority of you to head to your rooms. you stood to leave, but jisung stopped you by calling your name.

“y/n,” he smirked, “my room?”

your face flushed at his question, more at the fact that he asked it so loudly in front of everybody than anything else. it wasn’t like what was happening between you two was a secret, but still. your best friends and older brother were in the room, for christs sake.

you nodded and made your way to jisung, following him to his bedroom. 

“can you two at least be quiet this time? if you wanna be up all night that’s on you, but let the rest of us sleep.”

you sent a wide eyed glare at changbin for his words, but jisung just laughed.

“no promises.”

you were woken up the next morning by jeongin pounding on jisung’s door to say that chan wanted everyone downstairs. it seemed he’d already came up with a plan to get the money back.

you didn’t bother to get dressed, instead just pulling one of jisung’s oversized shirts over your head and calling it good. 

you walked down the stairs with jisung and were met by a glare from changbin, “you weren’t quiet.”

chan didn’t allow you or jisung to reply as he got right into his plan.

it wouldn’t get stray kids their money back, but it would ensure that ateez, the gang who’d stolen it, wouldn’t be able to use it for anything other than repairs.

the plan was to set fire to a building known to be home to a lot of their business. it’s where they stored things and made the drugs they sold, so burning it to the ground would cost them a lot. not only would it destroy their headquarters, it would burn thousands of dollars worth of product. it was technically a government building, a law firm, but it obviously didn’t cost more than ateez had to bribe the government to let them make drugs in the basement of their building.

it wasn’t a super elaborate plan. he would just send a couple of you in to light the basement up and one of you in to pull the fire alarm once it was on fire. he didn’t care about getting ateez’s men out safe and alive, but there were a lot of innocent people in that building. 

“my target is the building,” he made it very clear, “the target is not the people.”

still, you all had permission to shoot any ateez member you came in contact with as long as you were absolutely sure they were actually a part of the whole thing, not just some unknowing employee at the firm.

“we’re going in tonight. they had last night to feel like they won, i’m not giving them a second good nights sleep.”

you all nodded in understanding.

“you’re excused. but stay open, i’ll let you know further details soon.”

naturally, you and jisung took the option of a mostly free day and decided to go to town. he never called it a date, but he held your hand while he walked you to the restaurant and let you choose where to go. he even payed for your meal. he did everything a boyfriend would. a title wasn’t needed.

you lead jisung through the small restaurant and into the back corner where you liked to sit. it was one of your favorite noodle places to go to, you’d been there enough to have a favorite seat.

you didn’t bother with a menu, you knew what you wanted. jisung didn’t grab one either. he’d taken here you way too many times not to know what food he liked. the waitress approached the table.

“can i get you drinks to get started?”

“we’re ready to order, actually.” jisung smiled at her. you noticed the way she scanned his features as she smiled back. 

“what can i get for you then, sir?”

you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at her flirty tone. wasn’t it obvious you were there together? as a pair?

jisung ordered his regular and you mustered up a fake smile as you voiced your own order as well. she assured you both that your drinks would be out soon and left to put in your orders, but not before gently placing a hand on jisung’s shoulder for a moment. you chose not to mention your frustration to jisung.

he reached across the table and took grip of your hand, “who do you think chan will send in?”

apparently he wouldn’t voice his opinion on the waitress, either.

you shrugged, “i’m not sure. minho and changbin maybe.” you thought for a moment, “but they might recognize changbin. he’s always at negotiations.”

“you?”

“maybe. it can’t be hard to get a girl into that place.”

jisung let out a small laugh, “that’s true.”

just then, your drinks were placed in front of you. you slid your hands out from under jisung’s to make room for the glasses. you smiled and thanked her for the drinks, expecting her to leave and get back to work. instead, though, she stayed. she brought her hand back to jisungs shoulder. she addressed both of you as she spoke, but you could tell her focus was on jisung.

“what’s the plans for today?”

“nothing really.” jisung spoke, “probably heading home after this.”

she raised an eyebrow, “you two live together?”

you were going to respond, but jisung got there before you.

“our whole friend group lives together.”

she nodded but was called off by her boss before she had the chance to respond.

again, you ignored her actions and went back to casually talking to jisung. it wasn’t long before she was back again, this time with your food.

“enjoy your food!” she chirped before walking away.

she didn’t bother you anymore while you ate, only reappearing when jisung flagged her over and asked for the check. she brought it and he payed. you took note of the tip he gave, not overly generous but not skimpy. 

she lingered for a moment before speaking as you were getting up and ready to leave.

“if you don’t mind me asking,” she was speaking to jisung, “could i get your number?” 

he chuckled, raising his hands in defense.

“oh, no, i’m sorry.” 

he took your hand and looked to you in hopes that she’d get the point.

“oh,” she pretended as if she hadn’t noticed the signs of you two being together the entire time, “i’m sorry! i didn’t realize she was your girlfriend!”

you missed the way jisung faltered for a moment at the word. girlfriend.

he assured her it was okay before the two of you hurried out of the restaurant. the second the door shut behind you, jisung laughed.

“that was uncomfortable.”

you chuckled back, “little bit.”

your hand still in his, jisung walked you back to the mansion and you spent the rest of the day curled into his side watching television on his bed. after the restaurant incident, you two decided to just go home instead of staying in town.

you were right in the middle of an episode when your phone rang, indicating that chan had called a meeting.

“looks like it’s go time.”

“y/n, hyunjin, and felix will be going in.” chan explained the plan, “felix is the distraction. he’ll be pretending to be a customer and speaking with anyone that needs to be distracted while y/n and hyunjin get to the basement and light it up.”

“why them?” changbin questioned. it wasn’t that he didn’t agree with his choice, he just wanted the reason behind it. he needed to be able to think like chan. if anything happened to him, changbin was next in line.

“it’s unlikely that anyone will recognize y/n. she’s just another girl to them. hyunjin is there in case someone does.”

and just like that, you were sitting in the back of a truck with rigged up bombs shoved between you and hyunjin. it would be too hard to get a ton of accelerant like gasoline in there without someone noticing, so chan opted for explosives.

seungmin was driving and jisung was in the passenger seat. no one was speaking, it always got deadly quiet before missions.

she car stopped in front of a big building that you recognized as the law firm and jisung stepped out to open the door for you and hyunjin. you got out, doing your best to block the contents of the car from anyone walking by as you loaded the devices into every pocket you had on you. another car pulled up behind you and the rest of the boys stepped out, including felix. chan gave the signal to go.

jisung stopped you before you could enter the building, though. he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“be careful.”

you smiled and followed the two boys into the building. 

felix split off immediately to the front desk. his task was to distract everyone as you and hyunjin found your way to the basement. his first conquest was the lady at the front desk. it was working so far, he had the desk attendants full attention and she didn’t even notice as you and hyunjin slinked into a staircase clearly labeled employees only.

it took a while for the two of you to find your way to where you needed to be, but you got there. 

the first obstacle was the workroom packed full of people that you needed to get past in order to get to the planting location. chan had showed you a map of the layout of the building and told you to pack most of the bombs into the warehouse where storage was. he had told you over and over again, the target was the product. and where was product stored? the warehouse.

hyunjin lowered his head and gestured for you to follow him as he began to cross the room. you were worried at first, wouldn’t someone notice you? wouldn’t you seem out of place?

the answer was no. it seemed that most of the workers couldn’t tell one person from another.

it was obvious that their payment for working was a cut of the product, not money.

finally, you reached two big, swinging factory doors. that had to be the warehouse.

you watched as hyunjin scanned the room to make sure no ones eyes were on you before leading you into the warehouse. 

it was empty for the most part, just a couple people. that meant that you’d seem more out of place than you did in the busy workroom. you had to be careful about being seen. you saw now why chan chose hyunjin specifically as the one to go with you, he was excellent at avoiding detection. he was trained and brought into the group for his spy work. despite his tall figure and clumsy nature, he was quiet and quick on his feet. you had to be careful not to lose him yourself.

the two of you began packing explosives into any space you could find, trying to spread them out evenly but still close enough that they would set each other off. you slowly moved through the entire large room together, one watching the others back as they carefully placed a package. you and hyunjin worked quickly as a team, yet another reason chan had sent the two of you in. he knew the dynamics, he knew who worked well together and how well they worked.

you were covering hyunjin’s back as he placed his last few bundles when an alarm rang through the building. you quickly registered it as the fire alarm. that meant felix had pulled the fire alarm. he pulled it before there was any sign of fire. 

you and hyunjin were supposed to be the ones to pull the alarm when you were finished placing the bombs. you were supposed to be the ones letting felix know when it was time to get out, not the other way around. there was only one time felix was ordered to pull the alarm, and it was if the two of you or himself got compromised. 

felix had pulled the alarm, and that meant get out, they know you’re here.

you tossed the last few bundles you had and watched as hyunjin lit the fuse to one of the bigger bombs, one that was sure to set off all of the ones near it and bring the building crashing down. the explosives looked small, but they could tear down entire buildings with enough of them, and oh boy, you and hyunjin sure had planted enough.

you allowed hyunjin to take grip of your wrist and lead you out of the warehouse and through the crowd to the exit. you were nearly there when you felt his hand leave your wrist and someone else’s arms around you.

“i thought i recognized you.”

that’s funny, you thought, because you didn’t recognize him. from his word choice and location though, you figured he was part of ateez.

you struggled in his arms and desperately tried to find hyunjin in the crowd, but you’d lost him. 

you knew the rules, if something were to happen in a situation like this, your orders were to get out. there wasn’t time to try to get your partners out. if hyunjin lost you like you lost him, he wouldn’t spend more than a few seconds trying to find you before turning and leaving the building himself. it wasn’t anything personal, it was chans orders.

you thrashed in the strange mans arms. he obviously wasn’t taking the blaring fire alarm seriously, as he made no attempt to get closer to the door. you tried to reason with him, screaming that you’d rigged the place and it would go up in flames any second, but he wouldn’t budge. either he didn’t believe you or he didn’t care. 

you managed to break free from his hold and your eyes locked with the exit. you felt your legs ache as you ran as hard as you could to get out of the building that was set to blow up any second. 

the last thing you heard was chan’s voice screaming in your ear to get out and get to safety with the rest of them before the earpiece was blown off of you from the shock of the impact coming from the exploding flames.

watching from a safe distance away outside, hyunjin fell to his knees in guilt as the boys watched the building crash and fall with you still inside.

you struggled to hear past the ringing in your ears as three men kneeled down beside you. their lips were moving, but you couldn’t make out any words. 

you tried to fight back as they roughed you around, not registering the situation. they got you onto a backboard and someone placed something over your mouth and once again you tried to fight it off, but you didn’t have the strength. 

you barely registered the change in scenery as you were carried out of the building and lifted into an ambulance. your eyes were blurry from the smoke and you swore you could still hear the alarms blaring in your ears.

the doors of the ambulance were being pulled shut when someone put their body in the way, jumping onto the ambulance with you. the emergency staff tried to push him back, but he insisted on staying.

“it’s my sister.”

you didn’t process the new body as chan. in your haze, it was just another person smothering you and refusing to turn off whatever the fuck was ringing in your ears.

you couldn’t say how long the ride to the hospital was. in all honesty, you couldn’t even say with certainty that you recalled the ride at all. you were drifting in and out of consciousness and you barely made the connection they you’d been taken from the vehicle and into the hospital building.

you felt someone squeezing your hand before they were pushed away and you were rolled into a room full of doctors and bright lights. you remembered asking someone to turn the lights down before everything went black.

you woke up in a hospital bed with your head pounding like crazy. the lights were dim as you looked around the small room, but you still recognized the boy sitting in the corner.

“channie?”

his head shot up and he made his way to you.

“hey, i’m here.”

your mind coming off of it’s tired haze finally began to register the pain coursing through your body.

“what happened?”

“you were still in the building when the bombs went off.”

you glanced around the room and, finally processing that you were in an actual hospital and not being cared for by one of the boys, began to panic.

“why am i here?”

he grabbed your shoulders and made you lay still, “EMTs found you before we did. it’s okay, they don’t know you started it. they think you were just an innocent civilian in the building.”

you calmed down upon hearing that he wasn’t angry at you for being hospitalized.

generally, you avoided hospitals the best you could. the whole team opted instead to let their injuries and illness he cared for by one of the others. it was safer than putting yourself in the public eye with questionable injuries.

chan backed away from you when a nurse stepped into the room, dragging a large cart behind her.

“hey,” she softly greeted, “your monitor showed you were awake. i need to take your vitals.”

she smiled at chan and gestured for him to sit back down in the guest chair as she checked your vitals. apparently nothing was out of the ordinary, because she smiled at you before wheeling the cart out of the room and calling behind her that she would let your other guests know you were awake.

only moments after she left, hyunjin, jeongin, felix, and jisung stepped into the room.

“the others are at home tending to injuries.” chan informed you, “none of them are hurt as bad as you.”

you nodded, heart falling when you looked up and saw the tears running down hyunjin’s face. he leaned down and wrapped his arms around you and you laughed.

“what, you big baby?”

“i’m so sorry, y/n, i’m so sorry.”

you hushed him and pushed him off of you with a wince. your entire body was sore, and although he didn’t mean to, that boy hugged like he wanted to suffocate you.

“it’s not your fault.”

you scanned the room and greeted the other three boys. it was odd to you that jisung hadn’t said a single word or made a move to hug you, or even be anywhere closer to you than the door, since they’d walked in.

you weren’t given time to think much of it before who you assumed was your doctor walked through the door, immediately turning to speak to chan.

“your sister could go home today or we could keep her and monitor her for a few more days just to be sure. it’s your call.”

chan nodded, politely stating that he would prefer to take you home. the doctor nodded before handing chan your release papers. 

you felt slightly frustrated that he wasn’t addressing you, you were an adult and could sign your own papers, but you understood why he was going through chan.

as if reading your mind, the doctor turned to you.

“would you like me to send in a nurse to help you get dressed or will one of these boys be helping you?”

you looked expectantly towards jisung, but his eyes were trained out the window.

“i’d like a nurse to help, if you don’t mind.”

he nodded kindly and lead the boys out of the room. chan left last after placing a bundle of clean clothes on the foot of your bed. you guessed the ones you had been wearing were torn up from the shrapnel and impact.

it didn’t take long before a nurse was stepping through the door and pulling a curtain over the windows to the rest of the hospital to give you privacy.

she helped you stand and step into your clothes and you couldn’t stop thanking her for being patient with you as you slowly moved your aching body. you winced as you lifted your arms above your head and let her slip a sweatshirt over your body.

you expected it to be awkward, having a random lady dress you, but she was so kind that it didn’t feel too uncomfortable.

she slipped warm socks onto your feet before helping you into your shoes and offering you an arm to help you stand. she walked you out your hospital room door where there was a wheelchair waiting for you. she gently lowered you down into it and turned to the boys.

“no heavy lifting for a few weeks and she may need help with things like showering, changing, or getting up from lying down or sitting. i would suggest keeping her in bed for a few days or at least until the bruising and swelling has gone down.” 

she continued to go through precautions regarding your health, including keeping you away from bright lights and loud sounds to prevent your headaches from getting worse. she seemed skeptical as chan declined setting up a follow up appointment for you to come back and be checked again, but she eventually let it go. she waved you goodbye as chan wheel you down the hallway and out of the building. he, jeongin, hyunjin, and jisung waited with you as felix went to pull the car up for you.

you couldn’t help but feel worried and confused as jisung continued to ignore you. he hadn’t said a single word to you since you’d woken up.

felix pulled up and hyunjin opened the car door as he and chan carefully lifted you into a seat. chan returned the wheelchair back to the hospital and hyunjin climbed in beside you.

it was obvious he felt guilty about leaving you in the building when he himself had gotten out without a scratch.

the drive home was relatively quiet. you started out the window while hyunjin held your hand in his. 

felix was careful to stop the car slowly as not to hurt you when he parked at the mansion. chan and hyunjin helped you out of the car just as they had helped you in a few minutes before and they walked slowly with you to the door and to your room where hyunjin softly layer you down on your bed.

chan left to inform the others that you were home and doing well, leaving you alone with hyunjin.

he pulled your desk chair next to your bed, taking your hand in his again.

it was hard to be upset that jisung wasn’t the one sitting there with you when hyunjin was such a sweet and loving caregiver.

“did we at least get the building good?”

hyunjin laughed, “we did. took out the whole foundation and police investigating found traces of drugs among the debris, so the corporation is being investigated.”

you nodded with a smile, “hell yeah.”

you weren’t left alone for the next few days. at least one person was always with you in case you needed something. more often than not, that person was hyunjin. chan tried to be with you as much as possible, but he had things to deal with as the leader.

jisung had yet to visit you by himself even once in the days you had been on bed rest.

you were absentmindedly playing a game on your phone and talking to hyunjin when jisung and minho softly knocked at your door before stepping in.

“hey there,” minho smiled, handing you a plate of food, “don’t tell chan but i snuck you an extra pudding.”

you thanked him and he and jisung turned to leave the room, but you stopped them.

“sung?”

he turned around, shocked that you’d called for him.

“yes?”

“can i talk to you?”

he nodded and hyunjin took that as his cue to follow minho out of the door, leaving you alone with jisung. he had been just as focused, if not more, on the fact that jisung had been avoiding you.

he sat down where hyunjin had previously been but made no move to reach for your hand comfortingly like your gotten accustomed to hyunjin doing.

“why haven’t you visited?”

“i have been.”

“no,” you tried to sit up a bit, wincing when pain shot through your body. jisung instinctively reached out to help you, but he pulled his hands away the second you were secure and leaning against your backboard. “you haven’t. everyone but you has spent time with me. you haven’t even said a word.”

when he didn’t speak, you continued, “what’s wrong?”

you reached out for his hand, shocked when he jerked it away. he stood up abruptly, “i’m not required to visit you, y/n, it’s not like i’m your boyfriend.”

you frowned, where was this coming from?

“yeah jisung, you kind of are.”

he shook his head and you were too clouded by confusion and frustration to notice the tears building up in his eyes, “we’re coworkers, y/n. nothing more.” 

really? because the way he held you at night and kissed you and told you you were the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen said different.

he didn’t give you a chance to respond, immediately leaving your room. the second he was out the door, hyunjin was stepping back in. he rushed over to you and wiped a tear that you hadn’t even realized was there from your cheek.

“hey, what happened? jisung looked upset.”

you shrugged, “i think we just broke up.” you let out a dry laugh. 

or not. he seemed sure that there wasn’t anything to break in the first place.

you missed the hint of happiness in hyunjins eyes hidden behind his sympathetic expression.

he sat on the edge of your bed, pulling you into a gentle hug, careful not to hurt you.

“i’m so sorry, y/n.”

he meant it. he felt for you, he understood how much it hurts. he understood how badly it hurts to have someone you care for blatantly ignore you like that.

still, though, jisung putting you through that pain might end the same hurt for hyunjin.

maybe now you would let yourself see him.

jisung didn’t come in your room for the remainder of your healing process, not even to drop of meals with minho. he didn’t try to see you while you tried desperately to shove down the want to see him.

it was your first day up and you were struggling to get down the steps and to the kitchen as you clung onto hyunjin, who was supporting you. 

it wasn’t so much that the injuries were still that bad, it was just that your muscles weren’t used to being used. even with that, you probably didn’t need all of the help hyunjin was offering, but you didn’t want to decline it, either.

he helped you to your seat around the big dining table, pulling the chair out for you and gently helping you sit. you mentally thanked him as he slid into the seat beside you, the one jisung usually sat in.

it had been about a week since the whole thing, and today would be your first time seeing him since then. he couldn’t avoid you anymore, and you didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. 

jisung took a step into the kitchen and his eyes went right to you.

definitely bad.

hyunjin placed his hand over yours, redirecting your attention back to him. you smiled, he was good at keeping your mind off of jisung.

chan wanted to have a group breakfast all together to welcome you back from bed rest. you knew he meant well, but you would have preferred not to have to sit at the same table as jisung for an hour.

did the news get around? probably not. why would he have told people about the break up if he didn’t see it as the end of a relationship?

well, if the news hadn’t already been spread, everyone definitely knew something was going on by the end of the meal. jisung had spoke and engaged in conversation, but not a single word he spoke was directed at you. 

you let felix take your plate when you finished and slowly moved to stand up from your seat. hyunjin widened his eyes in surprise and moved to help you, causing you to laugh.

“i got it, jinnie.”

you didn’t notice jisung cringe at the nickname. why would you? you had no reason to look in his direction if he wasn’t going to look in yours.

hyunjin let you stand by yourself, but he kept his hands out and ready to help you if you needed it. you stood and smiled at him. he smiled back, giving a few claps to congratulate your progress.

you were surprised how much easier it was to get around once you got past the initial shock of using your muscles again for the first time in a while. you were able to walk to the lounge and sit down on the couch without help.

hyunjin sat down right next to you and you chuckled.

“i’m okay, you don’t need to stay with me anymore.”

he frowned, “i’m not doing it because i feel bad.” he shrugged, “or only because i feel bad.” 

he blamed himself for leaving you in the building, even though he did exactly what he was supposed to and you ended up fine.

“i’m doing it because i like spending time with you.”

if he had said the same words any time before your accident, before you and jisung ended whatever it was you had, you wouldn’t be blushing the way you were. but for some reason, you heard his words differently now.

it was his turn to choose a movie. the two of you had been watching a lot of movies since you’d been stuck in bed, and you always alternated who got to choose. not that it was a big deal, you had similar tastes.

the day wasn’t spent much differently than it would have been if you were still stuck in bed, other than you being able to actually eat meals with the others and sit in the living room instead of cuddled next to hyunjin in your small bed while watching movies.

the sun was set already and many of the boys had gone to sleep, but you and hyunjin wanted to finish the hundredth, (not really, but it felt like it), movie of the day. 

throughout the day, some of the others had came and watched whatever was playing with you and hyunjin. felix complained about you two taking up the biggest television in the house, which he liked to use for gaming.

now, though, you two were alone.

the credits began to roll and you went to sit up, hyunjin immediately wrapping his arms around you to help.

you chuckled at him, “you don’t need to baby me so much.”

he pouted, his arms still around you, “but you’re my baby.”

his words were nothing out of the ordinary, all of the boys babied you and jeongin. still, his close proximity and the way his eyes locked with yours and the confusion and frustration inside of you caused you to process it differently.

apparently he did, too. before you knew it, he had his lips on yours as he snaked his hands across your body, careful not to hurt you.

you felt his hand run down your body and to your ass, giving it a small squeeze.

he maneuvered you into his lap, and for the first time since you’d woken up days before, he didn’t do it as if harsh movements would break you.

you liked it.

you straddled his waist, hands combing through his hair. he let out a whine as you took a fistful of his hair and tugged his head back, exposing his neck to you.

you trailed your tongue along the sensitive skin, the heat in you building with every soft sound he let out. you bit down on a specific spot and he let out a sound that made you think maybe you’d hurt him, but before you could ask, he was begging you to do it again.

so you did. you peppered kisses and bruises along his neck, unconsciously grinding your hips down against his.

he hissed, fingers digging into your waist has he stilled your movements.

“knock it off.”

a smirk played at your lips as you removed yourself from his neck and looked him straight in the eyes, going exactly against his words and rolling your core against his clothed crotch.

“or what, prince?”

with that, he had you off of his lap and your back pressed against the seat of the couch.

he kissed you roughly, and you let him. you moaned into his mouth as his tongue danced with yours. he tasted like lust and craving.

his hands crawled along your body, reaching under your shirt and trailing up your bare stomach.

“or i won’t be able to hold myself back from fucking you so hard you forget everything but my name.”

his words sent a rush through you, and at that moment, you couldn’t think of anything you wanted more than what he was offering.

you slipped a hand between your bodies and groped his clothed bulge, “then do it.”

practically growling, he slipped a hand to the small of your back and held you up to allow your shirt to slip over your shoulders. he brought a hand to your breast, cupping it and attaching his lips to the top of it, sucking a deep purple hickey onto the soft flesh.

you let him have his fun, let him admire your body and paint it full of his marks, before you decided it was your turn again.

you placed your palms flat against his chest and pushed him away from you. he looked confused at first, but you saw excitement flash in his eyes as you continued to push him back until it was his back to the cushions, him underneath you.

you rolled your hips against his as you leaned down and whispered in his ear, breath grazing the skin of his neck, causing his breath to catch.

you grabbed a hold of his hands, bringing them to cup your chest over your bra.

“tell me, baby,” another roll of your hips, another sweet sound from his lips, “have you ever thought of me before?”

his answer came almost before you finished speaking, “yes.”

you hummed, “when?”

he swallowed hard, “all the time. especially when...” he trailed off.

you hovered your lips above his, “especially when what, hyunjin?”

he let out a shaky breath before responding, and his voice sounded almost ashamed, “especially when i could hear you and jisung.”

you ignored the sting in your heart at the name and smirked against his lips, “did you listen a lot, hm?”

he nodded and you raised yourself so you were sitting up, guiding his hand behind you and to the strap of your bra. he got the hint, fumbling to undo the clasp.

he groaned as the garment fell, exposing your breasts.

“you like to listen?”

he nodded, eyes trained on your chest.

you paused your words for a moment to guide his hands once again to your boobs, whispering to him that he was allowed to touch you.

you continued, “what did you do when you listened, hyunjin?”

his breath caught in his throat as you trailed your hand down his chest, pushing up the shirt that he regretfully still had on and slipping your hand past the waste band of his sweatpants and under his boxers.

“did you touch yourself,” you squeezed his hard member, “here?” 

he nodded, too far lost in his fantasy coming true to provide a verbal response.

he made a sound of protest as you removed your hand from his pants, depriving him of the touch he so desperately wanted.

you chuckled darkly at the whine, “what a little bitch.”

that seemed to snap him out of his daze as he flipped your positions so he was once again on top, hissing his words out.

“what did you call me?”

you ignored the growing pool of wetness between your thighs, “a little bitch.”

“yeah?” he attached his lips harshly back to yours, speaking between rough kisses, “i’ll show you who here is a little bitch, y/n.” he broke the kiss to lock his eyes with yours, “and it’s not me.”

he disconnected from you for a moment to slip his shirt over his shoulders, and you couldn’t even be upset with him for stealing back control. not when he gave you such a good view from beneath him.

he stepped back, gripping your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the couch as he kneeled in front of it. he tugged your own sweats and underwear down your legs, allowing you to kick them off before he took his spot between your thighs.

he placed wet, open mouth kisses to your thighs, drawing nearer to your aching core with each one.

“god, having to hear you with jisung all the time really got to me.” he practically moaned out the words, “you sound so hot moaning for him. but i think it’ll be even better when it’s my name.”

with that, he attached his lips finally to where you’d been waiting for him.

you couldn’t hold back a moan from ripping through your throat as he sucked harshly at your clit.

not only had it been a while since you’d done anything because of your injuries, so you were sensitive, plus hyunjin was insanely good at what he was doing.

he pulled away for a moment, a string of saliva and your arousal connecting from his chin to your core, “you taste so good, baby.”

he went back in, this time slipping two fingers into you easily with how wet you were.

a hand flew to your mouth to cover the obscenely loud moan that fell past your lips, but you let it fall. the mansion was big and no ones room was that close to the lounge, it should be fine. you could be as loud as you wanted.

and with the way hyunjin curled his fingers perfectly inside of you, god, were you going to be loud.

with his skills, it wasn’t long before you had your thighs tightening around his head and body shaking as the knot inside your stomach came undone.

he worked you hard through your orgasm before standing up and slipping his pants down his legs in one swift potion. your eyes fell to his angry red member and you couldn’t have stopped yourself from staring if you wanted to. 

you let him position you however he wanted, which happened to be with your back down to the cushions again, as a thought crossed your mind.

were these feelings real? or were you just grateful for him caring for you while you healed? for taking your mind off of jisung?

it didn’t matter. he obviously wanted to help keep your thoughts off of jisung, and this was definitely doing a great job of that.

you brought your hands to the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss as he began to slowly sink into you.

the stretch was painful, but you liked it. he was much larger than jisung, and he seemed to be better at using what he had. 

maybe that last thought was just the anger and frustration speaking, or maybe it was because of the way hyunjin began to fluidly pound into you at the perfect pace, sliding himself against your walls in such a way that you couldn’t have stopped yourself from letting out the sinful sounds from your mouth.

“say my name.”

you didn’t hesitate to comply, “fuck, hyunjin, you feel so good. so, so good.”

he groaned at the sound of his name leaving your mouth as a moan. he pulled out of you for a moment, but you weren’t given time to complain before he had you turned around with your back pressed firmly against his chest and his cock buried deep inside of you once again.

the new angle let him hit places that made your mind spin even faster than it had been before, which you didn’t even know was possible.

his breath grazed your neck and he bit down right on top of one of the marks he’d left earlier.

holding you secure with one hand across yours chest, he snaked the other down your stomach and attached his fingers to your clit.

if it were possible for you to moan any louder, you would have.

with a couple more firm and direct thrusts to your g-spot and one hand working expertly on your clit while the other squeezed your boob harshly, you were coming for the second time that night as his name fell off of your lips.

“oh my god, hyunjin, fuck, you’re so big, so good.” 

praises fell freely from your mouth as he carried you through your high. those, mixed with the way his name sounded coming from your mouth and the way you were clenching around him threw him over the edge too.

you whimpered as he fucked you into overstimulation, but praises and a chorus of his name kept falling from your mouth. 

you couldn’t stop telling him how good he was, how good he felt. he deserved to know.

you swore you could have came again just from the feeling of him filling you up with his cum, fucking it deep inside of you.

he pulled out, a mix of your and his cum slipping out of your hole along with his cock,

he groaned at the sight, and if you hadn’t looked so worn out from your aching body and the ride he’d just given you, he would have fucked it back into you and made sure it stayed.

instead, he stood and shoved his cock, which was already growing hard again thanks to the sight in front of him, into his underwear.

you barely even registered that he had left the room before he was back and maneuvering you so he could clean you up.

you whined at the warm cloth against your core.

“please, hyunjin...”

he chuckled, “we’re done for tonight angel, i’m just cleaning you up.”

you whined again in response, and you didn’t really know if it was because of the feeling of the cloth against your core or as a protest to hyunjins statement that it was over.

“baby,” he spoke softly, “you gotta use the bathroom.”

you groaned, this time from annoyance and not pleasure.

he laughed, “i know, but i don’t want you to get sick.”

you reached your arms out to him, “then carry me.”

he chuckled again, but he did as you requested. he picked you up bridal style, careful as always not to hurt you, and carried you to the bathroom.

he let you do your business as he went back to pick up the clothes you two had left scattered on the lounge floor, you wouldn’t want anyone stepping in there in the morning to find that surprise.

he returned, and after you arguing that you didn’t want to shower or bath, you just wanted to go to bed, he carried you to his room and crawled in next to you.

you buried your head in his chest, and in that split second before you fell asleep, you felt safe and in jisungs arms.

you sat at breakfast the next morning in a comfy pair of sweats and a tank top that hyunjin had gotten for you from your room. part of you wished he had gotten you a sweatshirt, or at least something at covered all of the marks he’d left along your neck and collar bones, but the other part, whether you were conscious of it or not, wanted jisung to see them.

breakfast was going find until chan asked how you were feeling.

you pouted, “sore.”

jisung scoffed from the other side of the table. you wanted to ignore it, but something in you wouldn’t.

“what?”

he looked up from his food, surprised that you had called him out. he just stared at you, waiting for you to elaborate further.

when you didn’t, he set his fork down, eyes avoiding yours.

“come on,” he shrugged, “you can’t be that sore.”

you frowned, “what do you mean?”

his eyes flashed to hyunjins, who held his gaze.

“you can’t be in that much pain if you let him fuck you like that.”

you nearly choked on your food at the bold statement. 

it wasn’t like the boys, even chan, didn’t know you were sexually active, but bringing it up at the dinner table? 

some of the other boys stuttered to, apparently the lounge had been far enough from some rooms, and not others. or maybe he just got the point from the hickeys littered across both your and hyunjins bodies.

you quickly regained composure, staring at him as if you were challenging him. before you could speak, hyunjin cut in.

“maybe that’s why she’s sore.”

jisung let out an unamused laugh, “don’t act like that.”

“like what?” you questioned, eyes still locked on him.

“like he owns you. like you’re his whore. like-“

chan stood up, hands coming down harshly on the table.

“okay,” he drew the word out, “let’s all finish breakfast on our own, yeah?”

everyone around the table nodded and hurried off, eager to get away from the awkward atmosphere, but hyunjin and jisung stuck around with you.

hyunjin spoke, “i’ve been around a lot fucking longer than you, han. you have no clue what happened before your sorry ass was accepted into this house.”

it was bullshit, hyunjin knew that the previous night was the first of anything to happen between the two of you, and jisung probably knew that too, but he was just speaking from anger and jealousy.

“so, what?” jisung laughed, “she was with you, i came along and she ditched you, and the second i walk away she goes crawling back to you?”

you expected hyunjin to blow. you forgot he was a skilled liar.

he smirked at jisung, “who says she ever left me? i’ve got plenty of ways to make her mine without putting my marks on her, han.” he reached over, fingers brushing over the marks he’d left the night before, “even when she was wearing your paintings, she wasn’t yours.”

hyunjin grabbed your hand to pull you away and you stole one last glance at jisung. you could have sworn you saw something, guilt or sadness, flash across his features.

chan decided to keep the rest of the meals for the day independent, too. he would rather arguments be settled alone instead of at the dinner table, especially arguments revolving around his little sister and who was fucking her.

the next morning, breakfast was held as normal, but jisung didn’t show up. you assumed by the way no one mentioned it that chan had given him permission to eat his meals alone until things calmed down.

along with no one mentioning jisungs absence, no one mentioned the fight from the previous day or the apparent relationship between you and hyunjin.

it was like that for the next few days. meals were normal, minus jisung not being there, and days were filled with hanging out with hyunjin, whatever that may include.

you felt bad in some ways, he had been missing out on missions, which meant missing out on pay, in order to stay with you. he insisted he didn’t mind, and you knew he meant it.

plus, it’s not like he wasn’t getting any payment. chan still gave you and him your weekly allowances. it came with being part of the family.

things seemed to be calming down and you were getting used to hyunjin being the one who held your hand and kissed you goodnight. you still thought of jisung often, obviously, feelings don’t go away that quickly. but it was getting easier and every time you kissed hyunjin, it felt a little bit more genuine. you’d even continued sleeping in his bed with him, even now that you could get around fine by yourself.

you slowly lifted yourself off of his bed, careful not to wake him, and made your way to the kitchen for a glass of water.

you frowned as you noticed the light already on and voices coming from the kitchen.

you paused in the hallway to listen. it wasn’t that you wanted to eavesdrop, it’s just that if it had sounded important you would have went back to hyunjins room instead of interrupting.

“everyone gets weekly pay no matter what, jisung.”

it was chans voice.

“yeah, i know.” you recognized jisungs voice as he replied, “i just think it’s funny that you’re paying him to stay home and fuck your little sister.”

you heard chan sigh, “everyone is allowed breaks from missions, regardless of the reason.”

jisung started to argue again but your brother cut him off, “this isn’t a work issue, jisung. this is a personal issue between you, y/n, and hyunjin. hyunjin, who, by the way, you’re losing her more and more to every single day you sit here bitching to me about being in love with her instead of doing something about it.”

there was a pause before jisungs voice broke it, “i never said i was in love with her.”

“you didn’t have to.”

you decided that the conversation was important enough for you to ditch the idea of getting a glass of water and hurry back up to hyunjins room.

he groaned and shifted as your weight was added to the bed. he reached out towards you, pulling you close.

he mumbled through his sleepy state, “where’d you go?”

“i was thirsty.”

he hummed, falling back asleep almost right away.

you, however, didn’t shut your eyes for the rest of the night. you sat there in hyunjins arms thinking about jisung.

if he still liked you why did he end it? it didn’t make sense. who was he to break up with you and then get mad at you for moving on?

so there, secure in hyunjins arms, you spent the night staring at the sealing and trying to block out the thoughts that kept wishing they were jisungs.

you pouted as hyunjin packed a bag to go on an overnight trip. he was finally back to going on missions, but chan still wouldn’t clear you yet.

even if hyunjin had wanted to stay home from this mission, he was needed. it required skill and spy work that none of the other boys had, and it wasn’t something they could just choose not to do.

you followed hyunjin to the front of the house. you met only chan standing there, waiting for hyunjin.

“where are the others?”

chan gestured outside, “in the car already.”

you nodded, turning to hyunjin and giving him a kiss before he and chan walked out the door, pulling it shut behind them.

you sighed as you made your way to the lounge. watching movies wasn’t the same when you didn’t have a cuddle buddy. 

you weren’t allowed to go on missions and hyunjin had to go on this one, meaning you were left alone. 

or so you thought.

about half way through the movie, it started to sink in that you were alone. pouting, you paused the movie and made your way through the house and towards hyunjins room. surely he wouldn’t mind if you stole a hoodie or two while he was gone.

you had a specific hoodie in mind, a black one with some logo on the front. you didn’t really know the brand, you just knew that it was the softest sweatshirt he had.

what you didn’t have in mind was to see jisung leaving his room just as you were about to step into hyunjins.

you turned towards the noise of a door opening, surprised when you were met with jisung. wasn’t he supposed to be on the mission? chan had failed to mention that just because hyunjin was required on this mission, that didn’t mean it was an all hands on deck type of thing. who else was still home?

he scanned you and looked at where you were headed before scoffing.

“you don’t have to keep pretending. he’s not here.”

you frowned, “i’m not pretending anything, jisung.”

you took a step into hyunjins room, not expecting jisung to follow. he watched as you dug through the closet for that one specific hoodie. 

“right.”

you couldn’t find it anywhere.

“you’re suddenly in love with him when i break things off.”

maybe he’d taken it with him on the mission?

you glanced back at jisung, playing into the lie hyunjin had started days prior, “suddenly? nothing was sudden.”

he must have brought it with him. or maybe it was in the laundry? you wouldn’t mind that, it would only smell more like him. you moved across the room to his laundry basket.

ignoring your comment, jisung replied, “what are you looking for?”

offhandedly as you searched through hyunjins basket you responded, “a certain sweatshirt.”

he took a step closer to you, “want one of mine?” the question sounded more like a plea. 

your eyes snapped up to his, what game was he playing? 

you hated how badly you wanted to say yes.

your eyes narrowed in a glare, “i don’t want anything of yours anymore.”

lie.

“i’m over you, jisung.”

lie.

“i wish you’d just leave me alone.”

lie

“i’m happy with hyunjin.”

as much as you wanted it to be the truth, it was a lie.

and he knew it.

“y/n,” you took a step away from him when he took one closer to you, “please.”

his tone went from jealous and spiteful to begging, almost pitiful.

“can we just talk?”

you scoffed, remembering the words he’d said to you when you made the same request weeks earlier.

“there isn’t anything to talk about, jisung. we’re just coworkers.”

you snatched a random sweatshirt from the laundry and made a move to pass him, but he stepped in front of you, effectively blocking your way. he reached out and took the sweatshirt from your hands, tossing it right back into the laundry.

“y/n, just listen to me.”

you tried to move past him again, but this time he reached out and grabbed your arm to stop you.

you hated how good it felt to be touched by him again.

“when you got caught in the explosion, i was afraid, okay?”

you let your eyes meet his, “of what, jisung?” you pulled your arm from his grip, “i was the one who got fucking blown up!”

instead of raising his voice back, he kept it soft and calm.

“i was so worried that i was going to lose you. i didn’t want to get attached further and then babe you taken from me.” he let out a dry laugh, “and then, seeing you with hyunjin, i realized i’d just given you up.”

he was right. you felt your blood boil, he didn’t even try to fight for you. he ran away like a coward. 

“and i’m glad you did.”

his face fell, “you don’t mean that.”

you blinked away the tears building up in your eyes, “yes i do. i’m so happy you ended whatever pathetic excuse for love we had.”

you could practically see his heart shatter.

“y/n, you’re angry, i get that, but-“

you reached out suddenly, pounding your fists against his chest.

“yes, i’m angry! i’m so angry at you, jisung.” you allowed him to grab your wrists and pull you against him into a hug, “i’m so angry. i’m angry at you for breaking my heart. i’m angry at you for keeping me from being happy with hyunjin, and i’m angry with you because no matter how bad i wanna hate you, i can’t.”

he held you close to him, violently aware of the wet spot your tears were leaving on his shirt. the tears that you had because of him.

“i know baby, i know.” he held the back of your head to his chest as you cried into it, “i’m such an idiot. i never should have let you go.”

then he said something you never would have expected, no matter how many times you felt like saying the words to him yourself.

“i love you.”

to say he was relieved when you wrapped your arms around him would be a huge understatement. 

you raised your head and looked him in the eyes only to see that he had tears in them as well.

“i love you too.”

he pushed your hair from your face and spoke softly, almost as if he was afraid he would ruin the moment if he made too much noise, “can we try again?”

you smiled up at him and he didn’t miss the sadness laced in it, “if you promise not to break my heart again.”

of course, hyunjin wasn’t happy about the news, but he understood. deep down, he knew you would never feel the same for him as you did jisung. but he didn’t regret the time he spent with you or the words he’d shared. 

you didn’t regret it either. although it could be argued that he was just a rebound, he was much more than that to you. he held you and made you feel safe when you needed it most, and although you didn’t love him in the same way you loved jisung, you did love him.

months had passed since you and jisung had reunited, and this time it was official. he showed you off everywhere the two of you went and he used the words girlfriend and boyfriend like they were his favorite things to say. he knew what it felt like to lose you, and he never wanted to feel that way again.

he treated you how he should have from the start, how hyunjin had, and he kept his promise.

he didn’t break your heart ever again.

[j10kkuno]

"Then they're not my friend." ;_____; Nooooo Lucas.

So I think I caught up on the Lucas ICU thing from yesterday and I have a rough idea of where he's taking his story but mostly I'm going to wait and watch April navigate the fallout with her boys.

TLDR: Ramee injected Lucas with meth after a night out with April's circle, Lucas had a bad trip and ran off, climbed the giant crane, and fell after his RPer rolled for footing, Lucas ICUed over night. April chose not to name Ramee in the official report, but rather handle it internally(Which we have yet to see). Lucas woke up with absolutely no memories of Los Santos. Of April, of Ramee, of UWU, of anything. He has memories of his pre-Los Santos life and remembers that he hates hates gang members. When he was told he had a friend in a gang, he said, "Then they're not my friend."

April just lost her best friend. (Nobel and I don't think Ramee meant for it to be malicious or for it to be anywhere near what it was.)

So basically, last night, April and Ramee were hanging out with Lucas and Bob Moss(Their therapist) and March Fooze, April's long lost brother. The group went to a concert, April got drunk and threw up in front of Big Toe, her favorite singer, they had siblings therapy. Just a night out in Los Santos.

At some point, Ramee took April to the side and told her he was going to give the boys something, but to NOT take it, but to trust him. He told the boys it was just B12 shots to give them energy after the concert, but they were rightfully skeptical, and Ramee, being Ramee, took the shot and injected him with it. After that, Bob took it willingly. It was meth. Bob and Lucas had a trip where they saw aliens chasing after them and Lucas was especially shaken and once it wore off, he just ran, saying "The alien the alien the alien." One of his friends from Uwu kept calling, trying to figure out where he was. But he just hinted he was going up. Up the giant crane in the construction site in downtown. Then Nobel rolled for footing and had Lucas fall, and he split his skull.

Meanwhile, April and Ramee were in his Benz, quizzing each other on Yuguioh cards and reliving old childhood memories(Ramee totally respects Leslie for doing tournaments when she was younger though!). At some point, she was like yeah, Lucas is probably dead. But it's Los Santos. Dead means a 2 minute ER trip.

Until Ramee was off to do a Wuchang audition and Taylor was calling April and saying Lucas was in the ICU and she was an emergency contact. He was actually dying. No doctors were on duty, but the EMT heard the story about Ramee and asked April is she wanted it on record to press charges, but she said it should be handled internally(Very good choice).

Lucas woke up today. He had previously said he had no memories of his life before Los Santos. He woke up with no memories of Los Santos but all of them from pre LS. I don't want to spoil myself too much but I know he said his memories led to a hatred of crims and especially those in gangs. He was hanging out with Posy and she alluded to April when she said he had a friend in a gang, he declared, "Then they're not my friend."

No more arguing over who the best is infinity time infinity to the infinity power I win! No more conversations with a nice view.

Really interesting arc. As if I didn't love Leslie's RP enough lol.

I don't think Ramee meant it maliciously. Nobel doesn't either. It was just Ramee being Ramee doing a little prank on April's friends but the thing is, Lucas and Ramee live two entirely different lives. Ramee has been deep in the gang and drug life for almost half a decade now. It's absolutely a prank the boys would do. And Lucas? He drives the speed limit, like legit. He stops at red lights. He doesn't rob, he doesn't do drugs. He says heck yeah. Ramee's humor would devastate Lucas's life because their lives are two completely different things and they were finally starting to see eye-to-eye. Nobel was also VERY clear with his chat that sending hate to any other streamer was unacceptable and would result in a permaban in multiple chats.

[moral-turpitudes]

Golden Ring: Part 2

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Fighting, Swearing, Fluff, Gore, Smoking, Drinking, etc.

Word Count: 1,833

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Requested by: @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  (thank you!)

Summary: When the Shelby’s are on business, there’s no such thing as rest, not even for Y/N.

A/N: Totally had “Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked” by Cage The Elephant stuck in my head while writing this. (Also fun fact: they’re from the city I went to college in and they did a free show on campus once which was lit).

Part 1 | Part 2

Tommy drove through the late-night fog and along the dark roads that led to their warehouse, the wheels creeping by ever so slightly on the dirt covered streets. The gears shifted as he put the car in park and got out, and walked towards the old building.

He pulled out a cigarette and rubbed it against his lips as he walked further into the darkness, the only light coming from what he assumed were his brothers cigarettes in the distance.

“Aye, who the fuck are you?” One of the men asked, who was most definitely not his brother.

“I could ask you the same question. Why are you on my property?” Tommy asked, the light from a cracked window seeping in, illuminating the two men’s faces.

“Well if it isn’t Mr. Thomas Shelby. We’re here to take your stock. The weapons. The drugs...What are you going to do? Call your brothers? Make your whore of a mother appear out of thin air or something?” He asked.

Tommy sighed, straightened his coat, and took his hat off nonchalantly, flipping it around in his hand as he looked down at it, before landing a hard punch to the mans jaw.

His other friend quickly took off towards the door with two bags full of cocaine.

“I wouldn’t run if I were you mate. You won’t get far.” Arthur said blocking the door with John next to him holding a shotgun.

Tommy then grabbed his cap tightly and pulled his hand back, sending the razor blade straight towards the mans eye. He slashed open one of them to where he’d be barely be able to see out of it, and the other he cut out completely, leaving the man screaming bloody murder as he walked towards his brothers.

“Where are the other men aye?” He asked grabbing the man by his collar.

“By the cut, I heard them fighting so I stayed here with him.” He said pointing to his partner bleeding out on the ground.

“They aren’t there anymore, you little London boy. You don’t mess with the peaky fookin’ blinders and live to tell about it.” Arthur said inching closer to the young man.

He was shaking as he realized he was the only one of his gang left, his boss surely plotting his death the longer he stayed in Small Heath.

“I’ll give you one minute to run out of here, because I don’t think you’re worth killing just yet. You tell your boss that if he wants to do business he’ll come to me directly, or I’ll have to come to him, and he won’t want that.” Tommy said menacingly as he held the young man by his collar.

“Al-alright. I will, can you let me go?” He asked.

Tommy held him there for a couple moments just to watch him struggle before letting him go. The young man dropped to the ground and ran straight out, leaving his friend and other deceased gang members behind.

“Now, what did you lot do with the others? I’m not digging any graves tonight.” He asked, his eyes landing on John.

“Well Arthur beat two of them to a pulp. I told ya he would go feral.” John said giving a sideways glance at Arthur.

Arthur smacked him in the back of the head before he continued.

“Well John-boy shot one in the head, the other is drifting down the cut with 3 bullet holes in his chest. Do we have to fookin’ retrieve them now Tommy?” Arthur asked.

“If you don’t want the coppers to get on us again, then yes. I’d imagine it would frighten the women and children walking past the cut as well, we don’t want that.” Tommy said before heading towards the door.

He looked down at his golden ring before looking back at his brothers who angrily spoke up.

“You’re just gonna leave us here to do the dirty work then aye Tommy?” John yelled.

“I have some things to do. You’ve both buried worse, just make their graves deeper this time.” He said before looking at his pocket watch.

“It’s Y/N again isn’t it Tommy? Bastard can’t even handle a murder job without wanting to run home to his spouse!” Arthur said, chuckling as John smirked.

“You’ll understand someday Arthur. Just get to work or I’ll make sure you’re both buried with that gang of fools instead of buried in company work tomorrow.” Tommy said before stepping outside and lighting another cigarette before heading home.

Back at home, the sun was shining brightly through the bedroom window with you laying in it’s rays, the sun warm on your skin as you draped yourself across the sheets as sleep eluded you still.

Your eyes were tired, with dark circles starting to form as the thoughts danced around in your head at where your husband could be. It had been 3 hours since he’d left, not that time meant much when he was away, it always seemed to blur until he came home.

As you stared at the old stone fireplace, you could hear the door cracking open downstairs as familiar footsteps heavily echoed through the hall and up to the bedroom.

He cracked the door open as light as he could, not wanting to disturb you if you were asleep, but you moved so you were facing him as he entered the room, meeting his tired eyes and blood stained hands and face. His clothes weren’t much better off, knowing that would be a pain to wash out.

“You haven’t slept...” He said taking his cap off and looking at you. He undid his dress shirt and took of the suspenders that clanked as he set them down on the table.

“I told you I probably wouldn’t be able to, you know that my love.” You said as you curled up on the sofa, the robe around you shifting with your movements.

“What can I do to help ya then aye? I can’t have you passing out at work.” He said coming over to sit on the floor next to you.

You lazily ran your hand through his hair as he leaned into your touch. The blood from earlier still glinting off his face in the sunlight.

“Well you could go take a shower, you’ve become so used to being covered in blood you forget it’s all over your face.” You said giggling slightly, he smiled and you felt him laugh a bit as you dropped your hand to his shoulder, massaging it lightly.

“You’re right about that, do you want to join?” He asked, looking over to you as he smirked.

“Only after you’ve washed the blood off, and on one condition.” You said.

“And what is that?” He asked.

“You lay with me for a while since you’ve been gone more often than not this week...that might help me sleep, at least until we have to get to work.” You said.

He smiled and nodded in agreement before getting up to rid himself of last nights business. You reluctantly getting up from the comfort of the sofa to join him in the steaming shower not soon after.

Showers always made everything better in a sense, so after it, you had no trouble falling asleep in Tommy’s arms.

You awoke later to the sun shining even brighter than before, signaling the afternoon, and you felt his warm arms still holding you as you lifted your head up slightly to look at him. He looked peaceful when he slept, or at least when he slept near you. Other times he’d be wide awake as the sounds of shovels and the muddy tunnels plagued his mind.

You carefully got up to not wake him and looked at the clock on the wall, lightly ticking in the distance and your eyes growing wide at the realization.

“My god...oh no...not again!” You said hurriedly.

“Thomas wake up! Thomas!” You said shaking his shoulder lightly.

His eyes shot open and he sat up immediately, looking around the room for any danger.

“What is it Y/N?” He said groggily and calming down as he saw you frantically getting ready.

“We overslept! Polly’s gonna kill us! We can’t be late to another meeting...you know this.” You said scurrying into the bathroom as you heard Tommy swearing under his breath.

He walked in as you were doing your hair quickly and putting in minimal effort to look presentable. Tommy was shirtless and standing behind you brushing his teeth, with his pants and belt undone as he’d hurriedly thrown a new pair on.

“You can finish getting ready and I’ll wait in the car.” You said moving out of his way and slipping your shoes on and grabbing your coat.

That was always the one little thing he loved about you, as you would always get ready quickly which often came in handy when he’d steal you away before other meetings or parties, and you still looked remarkable even if you put in minimal effort.

Not long after you started the car, he was bounding out the door and climbing into the drivers side, giving you a quick peck on the lips before speeding off towards the shop.

You looked at the watch Tommy had gifted you a while back, it reading 12:30pm as you both headed towards the familiar streets. People looked on as Tommy sped slightly through the streets earning some concerned glances.

With a lurching stop, Tommy parked the car and help you out, letting you inside the shop first as he followed.

“Y/N...Thomas...nice of you to join us.” Polly said smirking at you both as you walked in to the packed meeting room.

Tommy shook his head as he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before sitting down and lifting a cigarette to his lips, wincing as Polly loudly re-hashed some of the news and plans involving the business.

“Tom, the London boys boss is wanting to meet you. Your message was delivered.” Michael said, eyeing him as he lit his own cigarette.

“When will he be here? 3 in the morning?” He asked, yawning on cue as you smirked, remembering the annoying events of last night.

“Actually yeah...What? That’s what he said...” Michael said confused.

You and Tommy shared a knowing look, as he rolled his eyes back to his brother.

“Alright...tell him it’s doing me a disservice but I’ll meet him...with backup of course.” He said looking to John and Arthur, they seemed just as tired, and still wearing their clothes from last night.

“For fucks sake. As long as you bury him this time Tom.” John said.

Tommy smirked in response, turning his gaze to you as you lazily rested your head on your arm, Polly glaring at you until you straightened up.

As much as you loved your husband, it was a known fact in the Shelby family that the wicked never rested. So you sighed as you accepted your fate, knowing sleep would elude you once again until business was done.

Tag List:

(If you’d like to be added/removed just shoot me an ask/message!) :)

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox​, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @dreamwastakenx, @lovemissyhoneybee

[badwolf-in-the-impala]

~Whiskey Lullaby~

--Chapter 12--

Image credit: Myself @badwolf-in-the-impala​. None of the images are mine, only the editing.

Previous Chapters:  ((Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11))

Rating: Mature/18+

Warnings: Alcohol and drug use/abuse, violence, suggested physical/sexual abuse, kidnapping, sexual content, angst...So much angst.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, language, alcohol use, suggested kidnapping/being drugged. 

Word Count: 4,184

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

Tears streamed down Teagan’s face as she sped down the Highway, away from the only true home she’d ever known, and the safety of Charming, the roar of the engine drowning out her sobs as she grabbed another gear. Not even bothering to look down at the speedometer to see how fast she was going. Teagan no longer cared. She would allow herself this one final moment of weakness -- as everything replayed over in her head like a broken record -- and then she would shut it down. Every last fucking feeling, and Godforsaken memory she had made since her return to Charming; she was gonna bury it all. Just like she always did. Putting her cold, bitchy exterior back in it’s rightful place...And she would be damned if she ever let anyone break through it again. Ever.

Teagan’s heart was shattered into a million pieces, and the worst part? Was that it was her own stupid fault. She had known better than to fall for another fucking member of Samcro, and yet here she was; Hammer down, doing an excess of 90 miles an hour down a fucking highway, sobbing her heart out over the Scotsman who wasn’t even hers to be crying over to begin with! She knew better, and yet she still let it happen.

How could she have been so stupid?

It was like she was reliving her fucking past all over again, minus the fact she hadn’t gotten anyone killed this go around. At least not yet. Teagan’s heart pounded hard inside her chest, feeling as though it were about to break through her ribs, as images of Chibs’ accident suddenly flashed through her mind. The explosion, seeing him in the hospital, the fights with Tawni. His Wife. 

It was all so overwhelming that it caused her to nearly crash her bike. Her vision blurred so badly because of the endless stream of tears, that she could no longer see the road clearly, forcing her to downshift quickly as she veered towards the edge of the road. Thankful that she was going slow enough when the front tire of her bike clipped the gravel, causing her to lay the bike over. 

Teagan gasped for air as she skidded to a stop, yanking her helmet free and throwing it with a significant amount of force, into the bushes, after she had managed to crawl out from underneath her bike, clutching her sides as she curled in on herself, her forehead pressed into the dirt as the sobs fell from her lips. Unabashedly, she allowed her tears to fall, alone on the side of the highway, until she had no more left to cry; Finally consumed by the deep seated, familiar, numbness that she had been praying to take over. 

So with a final deep breath, Teagan pushed herself up onto her feet,  grabbing her discarded helmet from the bushes and tugging it back on firmly before fastening the strap securely beneath her chin and picked her bike up out of the dirt; Climbing on and restarting it the engine roaring back to life aggressively beneath her, as she sped back off down the highway. Headed for Lodi.  

~

Tig came screeching back into the lot at warp speed a few hours after all the shit that had gone down between his sister and Tawni. He had taken off right after in hopes of catching up to Teagan, in order to attempt to bring her back to the Club House -- or at the very least, calm her down and find out what exactly in the fuck was going on. But she had torn out of the lot like a banshee. Hammer down and no plans on slowing down enough any time soon for him to come even close to catching up to her. 

Tig having lost sight of her before he even managed to reach the county line. But that didn’t stop him from speeding on pursuit for another ten miles --silently hoping she might eventually slow down-- before finally giving up on the chase entirely...He knew his sister better than that. Because once Teagan found herself  in the frame of mind she was currently in now, she was done...Ties cut, bridges burned, she was gone. And even in her current situation, there would likely be little chance of her coming back. Even if it meant risking her ass.

“Son of a bitch!” Tig yelled as he slammed his helmet down onto the handlebars, the outburst catching the attention of everyone who was sitting outside; Unser included. Which wasn’t a good sign.

“Any luck?” Jax questioned as Tig approached the group. A frown graced his lips as he watched Tig shake his head and run a frustrated hand through his already unruly dark hair. 

“Nah...And no thanks to the help of Chibs Jr. over there, she’s probably halfway to Timbuktu by fucking now!” Tig snapped as he turned his attention on Tawni, who was now on her feet, face red and looking like she was about ready to knock his lights out when Unser finally stepped in.

“‘Fore everyone goes gettin’ their panties in a wad,” He started. “How about we take a moment to think, huh? Just where exactly would Teagan have go...Havin’ nowhere else to go?”

“Why should it even matter?” Tawni snapped, her accent slipping through the cracks as her temper flared. “So she took the fuck off, jus’ like she always does! Big fuckin’ deal! She’s a Goddamn coward -- An’ if you want my personal opinion, good fuckin’ riddance.” 

“Well you can take that opinion of yours and shove it up your uptight little ass!” Tig sneered, his eyes narrowed at Tawni as he moved to step around Unser, stopping as Gemma stepped out of the club house, the shrill sound of her voice putting an abrupt, but brief halt to whatever argument was about to erupt between the two.

“That’s about enough outta the both of you!” Gemma scolded, pointing her finger between the both of them as though they were little more than children who had just gotten into a serious amount of trouble, both of them, bravely, ignoring Gemma as they continued.

“She’s my sister! Only I get to say that shit about her!” Tig shouted at her. Tawni rolled her eyes and waved him off as he took a step away from her, beginning a slight pace and rubbing a hand over his chin roughly, trying to calm himself and think at the same time. They could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

“Yeah? Well, it’s my uncle, you fuckin’ egg!” Tawni yelled right back at him. Tig looked at her, confused for a split second, then he scrunched up his face and scoffed.

“Oh, come on, Tawn. Are you on that shit? They didn’t fucking sleep together! She’s not fucking your goddamn uncle!” Tig shouting, waving his arm toward her, before continuing his pace.

“Jesus Christ...Did you hear that from her? Or did Chibs tell you?” Tawni asked, crossing her arms. Tig turned to her and said, “Why would she lie? What reason does she fuckin’ have, Tawni?!”

“Cause she didn’t want to be fuckin’ caught, yeah?! The same reason she did everything!” Tawni screamed at him. Tig’s lips twitched and he stepped up to Tawni, too heated to care about hitting a female, but Jax wrapped a strong arm around Tawni’s waist to pick her up, as if she was nothing, and took a few steps back with her before setting her down, all with his phone pressed to his ear.

“Yo! Ho! Wait a minute!” Jax called out, trying to listen to whoever was on the other end of the line. He uttered a quick ‘Got it’ before snapping his phone shut and turning to Tawni and the rest of the gang. He gave a small smile and said, “Chibs is awake.”

~

Teagan let out a soft sigh as she ran her finger around the edge of her whiskey glass. Her opposite thumb and forefinger pinched the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes for a moment before knocking back the amber liquid, and motioning for the bartender to top it off once more. The older gentleman gave her a skeptical look, but didn’t ask questions as he grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels off the shelf, and refilled her glass, opting to leave the bottle behind this time. After all, she had been sitting in the same spot for a good four-ish or so hours now, with no intentions of leaving anytime soon. 

Stuffing her hand into the pocket of her leather jacket, Teagan pulled out her phone and flipped it open, seeing yet another text from Tig. Teagan hit ignore and snapped the phone shut before dropping it haphazardly onto the bar, pushing it aside. He had been attempting to reach out to her since she jetted from Charming earlier that morning. But as usual, Teagan ignored him. Not really in the mood to argue with her brother about what had gone down between her and Tawni. The only thing Teagan wanted to do right now was forget...Even if only for a little while. She just wanted to forget about Charming and everything in it that she had just left behind; Possibly for good this time. 

Another buzz from her phone sounded, followed by another, and another, but they all went ignored as Teagan focused on the bottle in front of her. Allowing the growing chatter amidst the bar’s patrons to drown out the vibrations of her phone as she tried to keep her thoughts at bay. But it didn’t seem to matter. 

Shot after shot, he was still there in the back of her mind, lying broken and unconscious in that hospital bed, and it broke Teagan’s heart to think of how he would probably never know why she really left, if and when he ever did wake up. Teagan’s jaw clenched as she ground her teeth together at the thought, briefly, squeezing her eyes shut tightly to stop the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks as her lip quivered, her heart heavy in her chest as she knocked back another shot.  

The hours ticked on slowly as the amber liquid drained from the bottle in front of her. Customers came and went -- most leaving as the hour started to grow late -- but Teagan remained rooted to the exact same spot she had been in since arriving, until the bottle of Jack in front of her sat completely empty, the bartender finally sounding off last call before he started closing up shop for the night. 

“You gonna need anything else, love?” 

Teagan glanced up through blurry eyes, pushing her hair away from her face as she blinked a few times, momentarily expecting to see Chib’s standing in front of her; A frown taking hold of her features when she was greeted by the face of a stranger. Teagan shook her head slowly as she pushed herself off the barstool and onto unsteady legs. Stuffing her phone back into her pocket before pulling some cash out of her wallet and tossing it onto the bar, motioning that she didn’t want her change as she spoke, “M’alright.”

“You sure?” The bartender frowned. “I can call you a cab if you want?” 

“I’ll be fine.” Teagan waved it off as she stepped away from the bar, swaying lightly. “Hotels jus’ right around the corner.” She muttered as she skulked off drunkenly towards the door of the bar. Not waiting for the bartender's reply of protest as she pushed it open and stepped out into the cool night air, pulling the almost empty pack of smokes from her pocket and shoving one of the cancer sticks between her lips. 

Teagan exhaled a frustrated sigh as she leaned against the building's brick wall, pausing to fish around in her pockets for her lighter, sparking up the end of her cigarette and taking a long drag before snapping the lighter closed and returning it back into the pocket of her coat. She fished out her phone as the smoke trailed past her lips and up into the night air, flipping it open to find several more missed texts from Tig, one from Jax, and another from Gemma. Instinctively, Teagan opened the message from Gemma, first.

“He’s awake.” 

Teagan’s chest tightened as she read the message, and then read it again, and again, and again...Her hand moving up to cover her mouth, muffling a sob as her vision blurred with tears. Suddenly flooded by the drunken realization of how stupid she actually was to catch feelings for a man she knew she could never have. And how stupid she was being right now for wanting to rush straight back to Charming after everything that had happened. Wanting to rush straight back to Chib’s, so she could profess her idiotic feelings while he was conscious this time, and tell Tawni just exactly where she could shove it. But that was more or less the alcohol in her system talking...Any and all of her rationality having gone out the window hours ago when she stepped foot into the bar she now stood outside of.

Pressing the phone to her forehead briefly, Teagan tried to steady herself by drawing in a deep breath. Using her sleeve to dry the tears that had managed to escape before she shoved her phone back into her pocket and pushed herself away from the wall and started walking. Hoping that the brisk walk back to her motel in the cool, late night air, might help sober her enough to actually make a rational enough decision about the situation at hand. But that was unlikely. Because her first instinct as she cut through the alley just down from the bar, was to fish her bike keys out of her coat pocket. Her pace quickening alongside her own heartbeat, as she made the split second decision that she was going back; Even if it was just to give Chib’s a proper goodbye before she disappeared for good. A decision she would most likely come to instantly regret. But nevertheless, her mind was made up as her bike came into view and she began to fish around in the pocket of her jeans for her room card so that she could grab her bag and haul ass back towards Charming. 

She had almost reached the end of the alleyway, just a few more steps, when something that sounded a lot like footsteps caught her attention and caused her to pause. Teagan turned to glance over her shoulder, searching for the source of the sound but only finding darkness. She shook her head,  blaming her foggy drink clouded mind for playing tricks on her as she turned her back to the darkness, bringing a foot forward to take a step, and that was when it happened. The sharp, searing, pinch of a needle being jammed into her neck.

Panic surged through every fiber of Teagan’s being as her vision began to blur rapidly, her first instinct to run, only her body --now paralyzed-- betrayed her. Sending her plummeting towards the ground instead. Saved only by a strong set of arms, from what would’ve surely been a brutal impact with the pavement beneath her. Her panic quickly turned to fear as her vision began to darken, and an all too familiar, twisted, laugh filled her ear. A laugh that she thought had been long forgotten.  

“Come now my little Raven. We’ve got so much to catch up on.” The voice cooed sickly as Teagan’s weight was shifted and she was lifted off the ground completely. One last chill ran down her spine as the dark clutches of unconsciousness closed in around her, turning her vision black and claiming her only seconds later.

~

The steady beeping of hospital machines greeted Chibs for a second time that day as he was gently roused from his sleep by the familiar soft murmur of voices in his room. Shifting with a soft groan, he opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to try and clear his vision before taking in the familiar faces of Jax, Gemma, and his niece, Tawni.

“Well it’s about damn time.” Gemma quirked a soft smile at him as she turned her attention away from the conversation she had been having with Jax. 

“How are you feelin’?” Tawni cut in, shifting in the chair beside his bed as she perked up out of her own half asleep daze. A faint smile tugging at her lips as Chibs gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“Like absolute shite…” Chibs admitted truthfully, wincing slightly as he shifted in the hospital bed. His voice was hoarse and the dryness in his throat from a lack of water made him cough slightly, sending Tawni into overdrive as she started to fuss over him and what he needed.

“I’m fine, Lass.” Chibs assured as he grabbed Tawni’s hand to keep her from running out of the room to fetch Tara or the nearest nurse. Nodding his thanks to Gemma who helped prop him up with another pillow before she offered him a cup of water. “One of ye goin’ to tell me exactly what the hell is goin’ on?” 

“Well, in short, you got blown up.” Gemma replied sarcastically, earning a scowl from Tawni who didn’t find it nearly as lighthearted or funny as it was intended to be.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Chibs snorted. “At leas’ tell me ye caught the bastard responsible, Jacky?” There was a round of wearily exchanged glances between everyone in the room. Something that made Chibs uneasy as he awaited an explanation from someone. Anyone. 

Jax stepped forward towards the foot of Chibs’ bed and cleared his throat. “We don’t exactly know for sure yet who planted the bomb...But we’ve got a pretty good idea that it was most likely that bastard, Zobelle. There’s been a lot of shit gone down the last few days man.” 

“Christ.” Chibs closed his eyes for a moment as a wave of pain radiated through his skull. Forcing him to draw in a deep breath before he tried to speak again. But Tawni spoke up before he had the chance.

“Maybe we should just let him rest before we start bombarding him with the shitshow that’s been going on the last few days.” It was more of a demand than a question. One that had Gemma fixing her with a hard stare, which Tawni was quick to ignore. “Besides, there’s someone come a long way to see Uncle Filip--”

If y’er referring’ to who I think ye are -- Already seen her...Don’ care to do it again anytime soon.” Chibs grit out as he spoke of his estranged wife, Fiona; Who had just so happened to have been there when he woke up the first time. Needless to say, she could have come harboring better news in a time like this.

“But--” 

“I don’t wanna hear any but’s, Tawn.” Chibs sighed, bringing up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose lightly between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes snapping back open suddenly upon a realization that he hadn’t heard, nor seen, anything from Teagan since he first woke up. As a matter of fact, it seemed like the few people he had asked seemed to be avoiding the subject of her entirely. “Where’s Teagan?” He blurted out suddenly, a flash of memory. The exact moment before the explosion when they had locked eyes. It caught everyone but Gemma off guard. “Is the lass alrigh’?! The explosion -- Is she--”

“Aside from a concussion due to a pretty nasty bump on the head, alongside some other minor injuries none explosion related,” Gemma paused to cast a glance in Tawni’s direction, briefly, before continuing, “Teage’s alright.” 

Tawni let out an audible scoff as she sat back in her chair, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as she looked away. “Bet she knew it was comin’.” She muttered bitterly, a little louder than intended. All eyes suddenly on her.

“The hell is that supposed’ta mean, Tawn?” Chibs snapped as he pushed himself up the best he could into a sitting position, wincing as another wave of pain washed over him. Jax immediately tried to step in and defuse the situation.

“Maybe this isn’t the best time to be airing out all the shit that’s been goin’ down between you and Teage--” Jax tried, but his words fell on deaf ears as Tawni shot out of her chair; Full blown raging Irish, as she began questioning her uncle.

“The hell is tha’ supposed’ta mean?! Why don’ ye just tell me! Huh, Uncle Filip? Wha’ ‘xactly has been goin’ on between ye and tha’ Crow Eatin’ skank--” Tawni was all but bright red and screaming when Chibs cut her off, having heard enough as he leveled her with a stern glare and an even sterner tone.

“Chibs--” Gemma spoke softly, a small scoff leaving her own lips as she threw her hands up quietly in frustration as Chibs silenced her with a finger of his own. His dark eyes never once left his nieces’ as he turned that finger on her.

“What goes on in my life in none of y’er business, and I will not be spoken to like a fuckin’ child, Tawni Rose! Nor will I have ye referrin’ to y’er own best friend as if she’s some goddamn Crow Eater!” Chibs scolded, his voice rising steadily with each beep of the EKG machine. Tawni scoffed.

“Right. Well, yeh’ve given me the rule of not fuckin’ yer pals? Well, ye can’t fuck mine either!” Tawni screamed at him. Jax tossed his hands in the air and sighed, in defeat, as the door opened and Tara shot in, glaring around the room.

“Okay, I think we’re going to suspend his visitation for the night. He’s only just woken up. Getting him riled up will only do more damage.” Tara said, staring at each of the three in turn, before turning to look at Jax. “I need you all to leave. Now.”

Tears slowly began sliding down Tawni’s cheeks and she let out a final huff at her uncle, before grabbing her bag at the end of Tara’s little tirade and storming out of the room. Gemma quickly gathered her jacket and purse, standing to follow, but Jax caught her by the arm and shook his head.

“I’ve got her. Go home, Mom.” Jax said, softly, before hustling out the door and down the hall, breaking into a sprint as the elevator doors opened in front of her. “Tawni, come on…”

Though she saw him running at her, she didn’t hold the doors for him, but she also wasn’t in a rush. ‘Let’s see if you can catch me.’ She thought. But Jax was too fast, barely catching the doors on either side of his shoulder, though the bump was gentle. He gave Tawni a look as she rolled her eyes and stepped back. The doors opened again and Jax stared her down as he stepped inside and let the doors close behind him. Tawni still refused to meet his gaze, leaning against the walls as the car began to move. Shifting his feet and sliding his hands into his pockets, Jax said, “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”

“Not particularly, no.” Tawni shot at him, swiveling her head up to look at him. A brief smirk passed over his lips as a soft scoff escaped from them.

“Right. So, is there a reason you brought up fucking his pals?” Jax asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “Something he ought to know too?”

Tawni rolled her eyes and groaned. “Oh, please. He made that rule after he found out about me and Kozik. I’m simply reminding him and adding an amendment.” She said. Jax laughed.

“‘Amendment’? What, are you our new lawyer?” He teased.

“Shut up, Jax.” Tawni said, pushing him out of the way as the doors opened at her floor and strode out. Jax was quick to keep up with her, taking a few big steps to catch up with her once she left the elevator.

“Alright, fine. But seriously, Tawn. What was that? So, what if they fucked? They’re both grown ass adults. Teagan knows what she’s doing, so does Chibs.” Jax said. Tawni scoffed as she slipped her bag over her head once she spotted her ride through the window.

“Exactly. They knew what they were doing.” She spat. “Tawni knew she was fucking around with my uncle and Chibs knew he was fucking around with my best friend. That, Jackson, is what that was.”

Jax scoffed and rolled his eyes, stopping just outside the doors and watched as Tawni crossed the lot and took a helmet from Juice’s outstretched hand, then swung onto the back of his Harley; The pair speeding away a few moments later.

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

Sorry it’s been a while since I updated! Quarantine depression is a bitch...Anywho, if you would like to be added to the taglist for future chapters/update, please let me know! ^-^

TAGLIST:  @jacksonroseroth​ @cole-winchester​ @stacie-marie-bloom​ @journeyrose​ @penny4yourthot​ @xbreezymeadowsx​ @miss-nori85

[multismarvel]

Help – Part Two (Oscar Diaz)

tw– blood, shooting

By the time the ambulances came, you were unconscious. You were barely breathing anyway and when you did, they came out in long, dragged breaths. Blood was seeping out of your chest and if it wasn’t for the just about noticeable movement of your breathing, it looked like you were dead. But you weren’t yet.

“Please, help her,” Cesar begged as the paramedics wheeled you into the ambulance. He couldn’t live with the fact you died because of him. You couldn’t die. He needed you. Oscar needed you.

“We’ll try our best, kid,” the paramedic told him. “What’s your relation to this woman, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Brother,” Cesar replies without a beat, joining your barely conscious body and the paramedic onto the ambulance. “I’m her brother.”

The paramedic began the attempt to save your life and the shock of it all was really beginning to hit Cesar. He couldn’t sit here and watch you die.

Your heart rate began to slow and the lines representing your heart beat on the screen got lower and lower. Cesar didn’t know much but he knew enough to realise that wasn’t good. You had to pull through. Your life couldn’t end here. If it wasn’t for the cardioversion that the paramedic used to resuscitate you, who knew what would’ve happened? You were knocking on death’s door and Cesar had never been so scared.

The nurses wheeled you away as soon as they got on the hospital grounds to perform surgery. Ceser was left in the reception, alone and afraid with only his thoughts to help ease his mind but they didn’t. He was by no means a religious person but he was praying to whoever existed up above that you survived the surgery. And Olivia. And Ruby. Three deaths were going to be on his conscience. He was well aware that Oscar wouldn’t even consider forgiving him if you died.

Oscar. Only God knew how badly he’d take all of this. Cesar was an obvious physical wreck at the moment but he knew Oscar wouldn’t show how it affected him. He always had to put on a front but Cesar didn’t think he’d be able to hold it well once he found out about you.

Getting his phone out of his pocket, Cesar called his brother.

“Mano, what’s up?”

As soon as he heard Oscar’s voice, Cesar cried hard, his chest convulsing with powerful sobs. How could he let his brother down? How could he let you down? Tonight was supposed to be the best night for everyone and now because of one action he made, it was the worst.

“Hey, hey calm down.” Oscar’s voice was gentle though Cesar knew he was worried. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s my fault, it’s all my fault,” weeped Cesar. “She’s going to die because of me.”

Oscar immediately knew the she in question was you. He didn’t know what happened or why or how but he knew something was wrong. He hoped Cesar wasn’t calling from the hospital and that he was just being melodramatic as usual. For once, Oscar wanted his gut feeling to be wrong. He couldn’t lose you.

“Where are you right now?” Oscar questioned.

“The hospital,” Cesar sniffed. The feeling of guilt in his body increased every second.

“I’ll meet you there. Don’t leave and don’t contact anybody,” Oscar demanded before hanging up.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Dread, anxiety and fear filled Oscar’s body. He was a gang member – a gang leader even and he’d never felt so afraid than in that moment. He even felt something was wrong seeing Cesar’s name flash across his phone. He felt it deep inside and it took over his being. As long as he lived he would never forget that feeling. He’d worked so hard to stay away from you to keep you safe and it’d done the complete opposite. Guilt wrecked his body. It could’ve been a different story if he was there. He would take a bullet for you without hesitation any day – even if it meant he’d die.

If you woke up, and judging by Cesar’s cries that seemed like a hard if, Oscar would get you out of the hood. He’d give you money, he’d threaten you to leave, he’d do what he had to. It was too dangerous for you to be in Freeridge. You were in a safe place with people you trusted yet you were still in danger. It wasn’t only the people but the place too and he’d make sure you were away once you were back in good health.

The drive over to the hospital was no doubt the longest drive Oscar’s ever and he was speeding the whole way. He was so frightened he’d get a call about you. He was more afraid that when he saw Cesar, he’d tell him that you were dead. His heart felt like it was going to burst if it beat any harder.

“How is she?” Oscar asked when he saw Cesar.

“They haven’t said anything yet,” Cesar told him.

“How did this happen?” Oscar thought back to what Cesar said. ‘It’s my fault.’

Cesar sniffled, “I didn’t kill Latrell. Then he came by the party. Ruby and Olivia got shot.” He choked out your name. “She got in the way and tried to save them.”

“You fucking what?” Oscar seethed. “I gave you one job and you couldn’t even do that? You could’ve killed the kid. Now he’s coming for the people you care about.”

“I don’t want to be a murderer,” Cesar said. “I just wanted to have a normal night with my friends.”

“You’d better hope they all pull through,” Oscar told him. “Otherwise it’s on you.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Cesar admitted truthfully. All he wanted to do was be a good person and it backfired in a way he never anticipated.

“What did you think was going to happen?” Oscar challenged. “He was a Prophet. We’re Santos. Obviously he was going to come back to finish the job. The job that you were supposed to get done.”

Gang affiliations and orders always took precedence over what people wanted to do. It didn’t matter if Cesar wanted to be a good person. He was a part of the Santos and as a result of that he was supposed to kill a Prophet who threatened him. A threat to one member of the Santos was a threat to all of them. Now Oscar was going to lose the love of his life and for what?

It still seemed so surreal. Neither Oscar or Cesar knew when you’d be out of surgery or if you’d even make it. They didn’t want to hear from the nurse that you died on the operating table. Oscar had lost enough people he cared about like that and didn’t plan on adding you to the list.

“Was it bad?” Oscar inquired about your injuries.

“Oscar...” Cesar trailed off. He didn’t want to put his brother through more anguish.

“Just tell me,” Oscar pleaded softly.

Cesar nodded silently, sitting down. “It was bad.” He shut his eyes and shuddered as the memory of you getting gunned down flashed back into his mind. “If I could’ve taken those bullets I would have.”

“I know.” Oscar sat down next to him. He couldn’t be angry with Cesar – not right now anyway. They were both hurt and confused about what was going on. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

The two of them stayed side by side all night. Hours and hours passed by. Cesar answered calls and texts from everyone and informed them about you being in surgery. He’d also found out Olivia and Ruby were in the same situation as you and hoped they were alright too. The suspense was all too much and it didn’t help they couldn’t see you.

A nurse walked to them and said your name. At last.

Oscar’s head rose up immediately and Cesar’s heart broke seeing the glint of hope in his eyes. The last bit of hope Oscar had depended on you being alive and after that everything was lost. Oscar would never be the same without you around.

“Is she okay? Can we see her? How is she?” Oscar questioned.

“She’s okay,” the nurse confirmed and the two brothers breathed a sigh of relief. “Only family members can come in. I was informed one is her brother but who is the other?”

“Husband,” Cesar supplied. “He’s her husband and I’m her brother in law.”

Oscar would’ve given Cesar an incredulous look but he didn’t want to give anything away so he went along with it. “She’s my wife. I just want to see that she’s alright.”

“Follow me,” the nurse ordered. The three of them took a quick walk to the room where you were. “She’s on pain meds so she may be in and out of consciousness. Try not to make the conversation too heavy.” She pointed to the room you were in and made her way back to the reception.

Oscar’s heart was racing and he felt so nervous. Part of him wanted you to never leave his side and the other part of him wanted you to leave Freeridge and be safe. You deserved to be safe and not worry about yourself or the people you loved.

“You see her first.” Oscar pushed Cesar towards your room.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Cesar walked to your room and felt his heart swell with emotion as soon as he saw you. His eyes welled up with tears all over again.

“Cesar,” you called out his name, ignoring the ache in your chest. You’d been conscious for a little while but with the help of the meds, it’d helped drastically.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologised, sitting in the chair next to your bed. He held your hand. “I can’t believe this even happened. Will you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you dismissed. “I don’t blame you at all.”

Cesar’s tensed shoulders had sagged slightly at that comment. He was relaxing. He needed to hear that from you.

“We didn’t think you were going to make it,” Cesar spoke. “There was so much blood, God, I was so scared. I’m really relieved you’re here. Alive.”

“Me too.” You didn’t have the best life but you didn’t want to die. There was still so much time ahead and so much life left to live. You didn’t want to be robbed of that.

“Oscar’s here too,” Cesar told you.

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say. Even in your drugged, weak state you’d wondered why he didn’t come and see you when you looked good. Instead he was here to see you dressed up in a hospital gown with gauze and scars on your chest. “That’s good. I know you guys must’ve been worried sick.”

“He won’t admit it but he was really scared,” Cesar said. “He doesn’t want to lose you. He loves you.”

That might’ve been true but you still wondered. Oscar was so closed off it made you question things. It made you want to be around him more and it made you care more when it should’ve been the opposite. You were baffled and hurt but still in love. Just like he was.

“He’s like right outside. I’m going to get him now.”

Before you could argue otherwise, though you’d wondered why he hadn’t come first, Cesar went to get his brother. When Oscar came in it was like the tension couldn’t have even been cut by a knife. No one knew how to react and everyone was anticipating what was going to happen next. Cesar pat his brother’s back in a show of encouragement before leaving the room. He’d probably go visit Monse and the others.

Oscar welcomed the feeling of relief when he saw your body. Words couldn’t explain how he felt knowing you were alive. His knees would’ve buckled in shock if he wasn’t so good at keeping up his facade. You were here, living and breathing and Oscar would do whatever it took to ensure it stayed that way.

“Uh, hey.” Oscar slowly made his way to the seat once occupied by Cesar.

“Hey,” you repeated back. All these emotions you felt were all so sudden and made you feel drowsy. No way were you going unconscious now.

“I, uh.” Oscar knew what he wanted to say. He wasn’t ready for the emotion that would come with it. You always told him to be more open and honest with his emotions. “That was scary.”

“It was,” you agreed, knowing that even if Oscar didn’t talk much that his mind was racing with thoughts and questions. “But I’m okay. You don’t have to worry now.”

“Don’t I?” Oscar thought otherwise. “I kept away from you to keep you safe and this is what happens. You’re not okay. I think you should leave Freeridge once you’re better. Move to a safe area.”

“Are you serious?” You hissed, not being able to shout. “I’ve just woken up and this is what you’re telling me?”

“What did you want me to do? Get on my knees and confess my dying love for you? That would only make you stay.” Oscar snapped. “You’re not safe here and if this happens again, you might not be as lucky.”

“Why are you being like this?” You snapped back. “Why can’t you just be nice for once? Couldn’t this conversation waited til I got out of hospital?”

“Look, the best chance you have is leaving this place and making something for yourself,” Oscar told you. “You’re not going to find what you need in Freeridge.”

You shut your eyes and sighed. “If you’re going to rebuff my non-existent advances again, quit while you’re ahead.”

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” Oscar’s tone wasn’t annoyed like it usually was. It was softer as if he’d accepted defeat.

“Why do you have to be in denial?” You asked.

It was Oscar’s turn to sigh. “Stop. Don’t do this. Not now.”

“Oh, come on.” You gave a small smile. “You have to answer my questions. I was shot twice after all. You’re not going to add salt on the wound, are you?”

Oscar kept his eyes on you the whole time. You were expecting him to break away but he wasn’t one to back down from confrontation.

“Tell me how you really feel about me and if you’re lying, and I’ll know, then I’ll leave and you’ll never have to see me ever again.”

Oscar’s stomach lurched in fear at those words. That part of him he’d pushed away that wanted to spend his life with you was getting harder and harder to override. He wanted to be the first thought in your mind when you woke up and the last before you went to bed. He wanted to wake up with you in the morning and go to sleep with you at night. Jealousy erupted in him at the mere thought of someone else getting to share their life with you.

“Fine, I don’t like you.”

“Try again.”

“I just want what’s best for you,” Oscar confessed. “I can’t stand being away from you but I’m scared of what will happen if I’m with you. If you were ever in this situation because of me, I’m not sure I could handle that.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” you echoed your words from a few weeks earlier. “Why don’t you let yourself be happy?”

“Why don’t you just give up on me? Everyone else has,” Oscar pointed out.

“Because I love you,” you told him, grabbing his hand. “I love you, Oscar, and I have done ever since freshman year. I know you love me too and I know we can be something really good and you keep fighting me. It’s okay to feel, Oscar, good and bad and it’s okay to love. It can be scary but it’s good. I’m falling really hard for you and I want you there to catch me.”

“What if you want out one day?” Oscar voiced his thoughts.

“I won’t,” you insisted.

“But what if?” Oscar repeated. “You might not feel the same way all the time.”

“I will never stop loving you,” you promised him. “The same way you never stopped loving me and wanting to keep me safe.”

“I love you,” Oscar started, “but-”

“But nothing,” you stopped him. “I lived a life without you and I don’t want to do that anymore. You deserve to happy. We both do.”

“You really want this? Me?” Oscar quizzed you again just to be sure.

You rolled your eyes. “My outpouring of love wasn’t enough?”

“I don’t want to mess this up,” Oscar admitted. “I’ve hurt you enough and I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“So be with me,” you told him. “Love me. Stay by my side because I can’t spend another second without you.”

Oscar kissed your hand and your heart swelled at the act. “Okay, I will. I won’t fuck this up, I promise.”

“I believe you.” Truth be told, you believed him with every fibre of your being. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

In that moment Oscar Diaz was the love of your life and nothing could ruin that for the both of you. Your new life was beginning and because you were getting to spend it with Oscar, you never wanted it to end.

[acreativeme]

Going to Work Mad

WARNING: THERE IS A MENTION OF A SHOOTING AND DRUGS

Request: hey, i wanted one with jay halstead. Jay arguing with his partner and she being shot, with a final fluff.

“Why are you being so overprotective, Jay? This isn’t my first UC, hell it’s not even my second or third!” Y/N asked, slamming her locker shut. 

Jay rolled his eyes, pushing off the lockers he was leaning against. “This isn’t some college dealer sting, Y/N. These are some of the most dangerous members of the Lorenzo Cartel, they are gonna see right through you.”

She sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm the anger boiling in her chest. “College dealers? Is that what you think I was dealing with in Boston, Jay? You think the irish mob is a bunch of ‘college dealers’, huh?”

Stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, Jay nodded. “Obviously. They aren’t like the gangs we see here in Chicago.”

Y/N stepped around the bench, moving closer to Jay as she spoke. “Really, Jay? Have you ever had to watch an innocent 15 year old girl get wiped and burned alive for rejecting an arranged marriage with an much older man? Or seen a 13 year old boy have to execute his own brother, because said brother talked about wanting to be a cop?” At this point, Y/N was up in his face. “Have you ever come upon a body with no tongue or eyeballs and shredded vocal cords? And when I say shredded, I mean like shredded chicken.”

Jay visibly gulped, taking a step away from Y/N. “This is different. You are going under as a prostitute, not a dealer.”

She shook her head, turning away from Jay. “Jay, you don’t get it. I wasn’t just a dealer in Boston. I was a prostitute as well. The only difference is that I am not actually going to have to sleep with anyone here.” 

Y/N picked up her UC bag and walked out of the locker room, putting an end to their argument. 

~Before~

Y/N stood in front of Kim, staring off into space as Kim laced up her mic. Her and Jay’s fight played in her head, distracting her from the conversation going around her. She and Jay had been partners since before Erin left 4 years ago, which made her believe that he had some faith in her. ‘But apparently not.’ 

“Got it, Y/N?” Voight asked, pulling Y/N out of her thoughts.

“What?” She responded, looking around at her teammates.

Kevin stepped up. “The code word is cherries. So, that is what you will say in case you are in danger and need assistance.”

She nodded, slipping her leather jacket over her shoulders. “Gotcha. I can work that into a conversation.”

Voight clapped his hands together. “Alright! Let’s roll!”

Dressed in a tight leather skirt, maroon crop top, 5-inch black heels and leather jacket, Y/N strutted passed Jay. Jay glared after her, tugging at his vest. 

Kevin stepped up to him, watching her walk away. “She looks fine. “

Jay looked over at him, “shut up.” 

Kevin laughed as Jay moved to get in the van. 

~During~

Y/N fixed her jacket as she walked up to the bar, brushing passed intoxicated party-goers. She locked eyes with Kevin, who was sipping on a beer, for a brief second, before leaning between two anonymous females to order her drink. 

“What can I get ya?” A tatted up man asks, wiping his hands on a towel.

 Y/N bit her lip, “can I get Dirty Ricky?” She batted her eyes at him. 

He clicked his tongue. “Are you sure, little Lady?”

She nodded slowly, pulling a roll of cash out of her purse. “I am sure.”

He grabbed the roll from her, nodding towards the door at the end of the bar. “Meet me at the door.”

Y/N nodded, pushing away from the bar. She tapped her purse three times, to signal Kevin. “I’m going back, guys.” She whispered to the team. 

“Stay alert, Y/L/N” Voight’s husky voice rang through her earpiece. 

“Got it.” She knocked on the door, walking around the bartender that opened the door.

The man led her to another backroom, where there were three large men and a well-dressed woman. There were multiple little baggies of crystal meth and stacks of pre-counted cash neatly organized on the table between the four of them. 

The bartender whispered in the woman’s ear, handing her the roll of cash. The woman nodded, waving him off as he finished speaking. “So, you are looking for some Dirty Ricky.” The woman’s voice was like velvet. “Are you sure you want something that strong?” She clasped her hands together. 

Y/N shifted in her spot. “Yeah, I am supposed to be going to rehab, so I need something strong to last me.” She started rubbing her arms as if she was itching for another fix. 

The woman stood up from her chair, signaling for the men to stay seated. “Rehab, you say. What rehab?” The woman played with a gun.

Y/N stepped back, racking her brain for a rehab name. “Rebirth. It’s in California. My folks want me far away from my triggers.” 

The woman looked at the men, who seemed to be searching the internet. The balding man was the first to speak. “No such rehab exists in California.” 

The woman tsked as she looked back at Y/N. “Now, why are you lying about going to rehab?” 

Y/N pretended to bite her nails. “I was hoping for a discount, you know.” 

The woman popped the clip out of the gun, to count the bullets. “I don’t know who told you about me or told you I do discounts, but they were lying to you little lady.” She slid the magazine back into the gun. She circled around Y/N, looking her up and down. “When was the last time you used?” 

Rolling her shoulders, Y/N bounced on her toes. “Two days ago.” 

“Tsk. Now, I know that is a lie. You aren’t showing any signs of withdrawal.” She circled around Y/N to stand in front of her. “There is no way you are an addict.”

Panic rose in Y/N’s chest, “woah! I’ve just been curving the cravings.”

The woman shook her head, tsking. “I’m calling bullshit.” Not wasting anytime, the woman let off two shots. One hit Y/N in the shoulder, while the second hit in her abdomen.

Y/N screamed out in pain, hitting the ground. She could hear the team breach the building, Voight was calling in an ambulance as Kevin knocked in the door. Despite the intense amount of pain, Y/N tried to put pressure on her abdomen wound. Black orbs started to form as the team formed a circle around her and their suspect. She could feel Jay’s eyes burning holes into the side of her face, but she was more focused on the red pool growing under her. 

The suspect muttered under her breath. “I fucking knew you couldn’t be a junkie.” She set the gun down, surrendering to the team. Voight and Adam cuffed the suspect, allowing the rest of the team to assess Y/N or go get the EMTs that showed up. 

Jay was the first to fall at her side, replacing her weak hand with his strong one. “I can’t believe you got yourself shot.” His voice shook. 

She laughed, breathlessly. “Are you gonna tell me ‘you told me so’?” She asked as she fell out of consciousness.

“No..” He whispered, stepping back to let the EMTs work.

~At the Hospital~

Y/N was in surgery for 10 hours, due to both bullets hitting bone and breaking into fragments. She had also lost a lot of blood, so they had to make sure she got an infusion of clean matching blood. While most of the team came in and out of her room, Jay remained a constant figure. He sat at her bedside, left hand clasped in hers.

Voight and Platt stood in the doorway, watching Jay talk softly to his partner. Both were stunned by the care he showed towards the injured detective. “I’ve seen him like this.” Platt stated, taking a sip of her lukewarm coffee.

Voight grunted in agreement. “Not even with Erin.” Y/N started to stir, signaling that it was time for the older officers to leave.

They shared a knowing look and turned away from the door, giving the pair some privacy. Neither Jay or Y/N spoke. Jay simply poured her a cup of water, letting her take small sips before sitting back in his chair. 

“How long have you been here, Jay?” Y/N asked, voice still raspy from the anesthesia.

Jay rubbed the back of his neck, looking down sheepishly. “The whole time you've been out.”

Y/N leaned back a little further and noticed that he was still in the same clothes that he wore to the bust, the only difference was that they now had blood stains. “You should change and get some sleep, Jay. You are covered in my blood.” Y/N’s voice was laced with strong emotion. 

Jay shook his head, “No. I am okay.”

Y/N squeezed his hand. “I am okay, Jay. You don’t have to stay with me. I will be okay for a few hours.”

He just continued to shake his head. “I’m not leaving you again.” His voice cracked, tears welling in his eyes. “I thought I was going to lose you today. And all I could think about was our stupid fight and how much I wanted to tell you that I love you. I am so sorry, Y/N.” He leaned down and sobbed into her hands.

Shocked by his confession, Y/N’s mouth fell open. “Jay…” She whispered, causing him to lift his head. “I love you too.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

With a wide grin, Jay cautiously pulled Y/N into a passionate kiss.

[buzzdixonwriter]

Tears In The Rain

I've seen things you people wouldn't believe��All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.”

-- Blade Runner (David Peebles & Rutger Hauer)

The radar screen manufacturers -- RCA, GE, and others -- started jonesin’ for cash when the end of WWII dried up all that sweat & easy military materiel money.

Commercial consumer television existed before WWII in England, the UK, and Germany but it was a super-expensive technology confined to a few very wealthy homes in a few select markets or in Germany’s case, public venues such as beer halls.

Radar screens and TV tubes were basically different applications of the same thing, so the radar tube manufacturers shifted their production to TV sets pitched to post-war consumers as the must-have status symbol.

Problem: Said TV sets needed something to show and while there was live national network and local programing, most early stations filled their air time with old movies / cartoons / serials / comedy shorts.

That was the cultural gestalt I and other boomers grew up in during the 1950s, an era when much of the on air media dated back to the 1930s.

I’ve always been more culturally observant and curious than others in my generational cohort, and while they blandly / blindly watched Bugs Bunny and Popeye and Betty Boop and Our Gang, I was asking my parents and grandmother and aunt about the odd details I saw in old media (it didn’t hurt that we had a beautiful art deco edition of Collier’s Encyclopedia that my grandparents acquired in the 1920s in the house as well).

As a result I knew far more about the Depression and Prohibition and war rationing and other major cultural events and touchstones prior to our generation than did most other boomers.

When our history and social studies textbooks finally introduced these topics in junior high and high school, I was already intimately familiar with them.

As a result, I fell in love with the Marx Brothers and continue to love them to this day.

And while I watched and re-watched The Three Stooges, once I discovered Laurel and Hardy I left Larry, Moe, Curly, Shemp, Joe, and Curly Joe behind.

But the thing is, to fully understand and appreciate and know and love the Marx Brothers, you have to understand the pop culture of their era.

The same applies -- to a lesser degree -- to Laurel and Hardy.

The key difference is that The Three Stooges are pure physical mayhem:  There is nothing to understand.

They are imbeciles who inflict pain on themselves and one another, and while far, far inferior to Groucho / Harpo / Chico or Stan & Ollie, they will outlast them.

Anybody from any era or any culture can access The Three Stooges, but if you don’t understand a “gat” (short for gatling gun) is 1930s slang for an automatic pistol, then Groucho’s line upon seeing a automatic in a drawer with a pair of derringers -- “This gat’s had gittens” -- is absolute gibberish.

Likewise Laurel and hardy require some understanding of how American cultural values functioned in the 1920s and 30s; if you don’t get that, a lot of their humor is lost.

Our Gang / Little Rascals ages better because kids are kids and much of what they do is universal.

But even there much of their references have to do with the Depression or WWII rationing and scrap drives and if you don’t grasp that then those jokes zoom past you.

The situation isn’t confined to pre-WWII media, either.

The Marx Brothers and Laurel & Hardy might possibly be recognized by the current generation as something their parents and grandparents watched, but the Ritz Brothers are forgotten by all except those who specialize in comedy / pop culture history.  Wheeler & Woolsey are even more obscure, and Olsen & Johnson obscurer still, and if you’ve ever heard of Lum & Abner my hat’s off to you.

And holy shamolley, those are just the comedians we’re talking about.  There’s a whole universe of pop culture lost as fans of old B-Westerns die off, not to mention minor pop stars of music and small movies in the 1930s / 40s / 50s.

Silent movies have virtually disappeared from pop culture today; they are things of the past, historical artefacts.

Thanks to the Internet Archive and Project Gutenberg and Comic Book + and Digital Comics Museum and other sites, literally tens of thousands of hours of old radio shows and countless pulp magazines and comic books and other media are available, but who accesses them today except the truly die-hard genre fans or the pop culture historians?

Why morn their passing?

As Theodore Sturgeon famously observed, isn’t 90% of everything crap?

Yes, it is.

But that doesn’t make it any less of the cultural gestalt, the zeitgeist of the era than the few timeless gems that shine through.

. . .

As pop culture historian Jaime Weinman points out, the boomer generation -- the late 1940s to early 1960s -- offered a particularly fallow time for pop culture.

We enjoyed access to previous generations of pop culture, brought to us in curated form.  Even if those curators were costumed local cartoon show and horror movie hosts, we got at least some understanding of what led up to our own generation.

Weinman observes that because of technical broadcast reasons, only a few avenues fell open to new programming -- and that new programming could be rerun again and again to fill in gaps in local stations’ air time.

It created a generation with remarkably deep pop culture roots, even if relative few members of that generation were aware of them.

We were, to some degree or another, aware of a vast library of older pop culture media and icons and idioms.

Ironically, this began changing in the late 1960s, slowly at first, but coming full flower in the mid-1970s as music cassette recordings allowed us to create our own playlists off radio shows and record players, and cable TV stopped being something for the hinterlands and started penetrating urban markets, thus literally uniting the country with first dozens then hundreds and a virtually infinite number of channels and streaming options.

But the real nail in the golden age of pop culture’s coffin was the introduction of home TV recordings and time shifting, meaning we no longer needed to wait for curated programing but could watch what we wanted when we wanted.

Despite a wider range of options, older material became less and less popular, and the lack of curation is a big part of that.

With nobody to supply some sort of context -- even goofy horror host context -- older examples of pop culture became less accessible.

The newer generations look less to the past, more to the future.

. . .

As I’ve written before, endings fascinate me.

Right now I’m seeing a generational shift with the boomer generation’s pop culture rapidly fading to be replaced by Generation Z and the generations to follow them.

I look at the boomer era and wonder how much will survive.

Very little, I’m afraid.

And that includes losing some of the best our era had to offer.

For example, how many people today know of The Firesign Theatre?

In the mid-1960s through the early 1970s, they performed absolutely brilliant satirical comedy on radio and recordings.  Their album Don’t Crush That Dwarf, Hand Me The Pliers received a Hugo nomination for best sci-fi drama presentation of 1970.

I still laugh when I hear their recordings -- but I laugh because I lived in that era.

Their humor relies heavily on topical subjects and the counter culture of the late 1960s-70s.  They were very much a Southern California phenomenon…and thanks to radio and TV and movies of that era, that culture permeated the entire country.

But that era is gone, and now when I listen to them I laugh, but to use a specific example I laugh because I know who Ralph Williams was and what he meant to Southern California pop culture in that time.

You don’t get that, you don’t get the joke, and the brilliance of The Firesign Theatre’s humor is lost.

Like tears in the rain.

. . . 

Cheech y Chong will survive, because like The Three Stooges, their appeal lies in their basic stupidity.

True, many of their routines make contemporary pop culture references, but material like “Dave’s Not Here” is timeless.

You don’t even have to get the drug references to find it hilarious.

Conversely, the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers will fade.

As characters, they are of a particular time and place:  Hippie dippie San Francisco.

They can’t survive transplantation, as was demonstrated in their last few stories.

Now there’s an animated series that brings them from the swinging 60s to to Trump 20s and it just doesn’t work.

The creators Don’t Get The Joke.

I don’t blame them for failing to get the joke, but updating the Freak Bros. would be like updating the Marx Brothers.

It can be done, but only badly.

. . .

Music will always have musicians and buffs who will track every obscure item they can find, but a lot of the best and most innovative work will be forgotten by mainstream culture.

This is because in many case, the best musicians are way ahead of the rest of their field, and their innovations are only made palatable by others who take them up and reinterpret them in a way to make them accessible to contemporary audiences.

Frank Zappa, as much as I personally love him as a cultural icon, will fade fast after the last boomer dies.

Basically, he didn’t make singable music.

There are a lot of brilliant innovations in his work, but his lyrics are so idiosyncratic as to be impossible to cover.

That, and a lot of his lyrics and subject matter would not be comfortably acceptable today.

Yeah, when he did it he was trying to make a satirical point, but when modern audiences hear it, they don’t hear the sharp commentary on the culture of his time, they hear songs that seem to glorify sexual violence and racial bigotry.

Most of the people who decry so-called “cancel culture” today are hypocrites trying to justify their own offenses, but there will be creators and components of pop culture who simply aren’t going to make the cut.

I can show you on paper why radio’s Amos And Andy was a brilliantly written show.

You’re not going to get modern audiences to accept white actors doing blackface…or black voice.

Zappa is acceptable today because there are still enough people who get the joke.

When we’re gone, so are most of his songs (his instrumentals hopefully will live on).

. . .

Quentin Tarantino’s star is already starting to set.

His copious dropping of the n-bomb seemed daring and edgy in the early to mid-90s now seems boorish and tiresome.

People don’t want to listen to that, and how can you make them watch what they don’t want to watch?

The Hateful Eight might endure since it gives a sorta context for its racial animosity, ditto Django Unchained, but even they will be problematic due to Tarantino’s Red Apple universe -- a world similar enough to ours to be mistaken for it at first glance but ultimately completely different.

Inglorious Basterds will ultimately fail the history smell test by audiences who will perceive it as wildly inaccurate.

Once Upon A Time In Hollywood probably has the least problematic elements in it, but it too is so firmly set in a specific time and place that only those who lived it can truly appreciate it.

When we’re gone, who can follow the pop culture breadcrumbs that lead us through the movie?

Tarantino is a brilliant writer / director, and film students in the know will study his movies to see how he pulled them off…

…but they’re going to move far past him.

(He may enjoy a revival 50 years from now, the way certain film makers get rediscovered a half century after their deaths.  If so, it will be by people able to see past the pop culture references to the real story beneath.)

. . .

Roger Corman and other exploitation film makers aren’t going to as welcomed once the boomer generation departs.

Boomers see them as transgressive artists, tweaking the nose of so-called respectable society.

New generations will see they as creeps who exploited violence and sexism.

(And we shouldn’t mourn its loss; most of it is soft-core pornography.  But there were a few shining moments that shine only if you know the context, and that is fading fast.)

. . .

Superheroes probably won’t die out just as Westerns never completely died out, but like Westerns their audience is rooted in a very particular time and place.

I mentioned B-Westerns earlier; once upon a time there were literally dozens of B-Western stars, each with their own face base and merchandising and movies…

…and now there are no more B-Westerns.

We remember Roy Rogers because he’s culturally referenced elsewhere (and Gene Autry because he left a great big museum in his name).

B-Westerns’ success was based on fulfilling audience expectations, essentially giving the same thing they’d seen before, only slightly different.

Superheroes have degenerated into that.

In their current form, they’re deconstructions based on what a previous generation’s pop culture produced.

The superhero market has been supersaturated in the past and collapsed before.

This time when it collapses it will take along countless near-identical characters and storylines.

What emerges from it will be as different from the current iteration of superheroes as The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly was from My Pal Trigger.

. . .

Likewise, if James Bond is to survive, there will be a drastic retooling of the property.

It is possible; Sherlock Holmes has been retooled often.

The original Connery Bonds, the ones we consider to be “iconic” will eventually be viewed as an embarrassment.

The world and its attitudes are changing, and while there will always be room for heroes, audiences will be a bit more discerning about which heroes they want.

The attitudes of the original Bonds will not fly with future generations.

. . .

Finally, one prospect that will make it into the future, though not necessarily on its own strengths, no matter how significant they are.

Mystery Science Theater 3000 has skewered pop culture via bad movies since 1988.

Supported by a legion of fans, there are several books and websites that annotate all the references found in the various MST3K series.

Scholars 500 years in the future will thank these fans and researchers for their efforts.

Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its various annotated spinoffs will be the Rosetta stone of 20th century pop culture.

It will provide a context to make the jokes understandable, but more importantly than that, it will open a window into what people were thinking and feeling in the last decade of the 20th century.

It and the films it spoofed will be studied with near Talmudic intensity (you think I jest; I do not).  They’ll provide insight that will help future generations and cultures understand this one.

  © Buzz Dixon