#what the fuck is campus security here for if they locked student reporters out of the buildings that are supposed to be safe for them
Text
absolutely disgusting the way that the violence on my campus this morning is being talked about on the news. reading articles rn and they keep talking about violence on both sides & fighting breaking out ‘between’ the two groups. call it what it fucking was. it’s not two sides being violent, it’s one being attacked by the other. rhetoric matters.
#mads talks#delete later#classes being cancelled is giving me more time to scroll#so I thought ‘hey let’s see what they’re saying about this online’#idk it’s just making me so unreasonably angry#like basically everyone here who’s bothered to keep up with what’s going on knows exactly who instigated#and it wasn’t the Palestine protestors#posting here instead of talking to the people I know because my roommate has the most dogshit takes on this situation#she’s like ‘they should’ve just shut down the protests from the beginning’#‘they handled it the best they could’#so I’m walking away and taking a breather or else we’re going to get into a bad argument#the best my ass#what the fuck is campus security here for if they locked student reporters out of the buildings that are supposed to be safe for them#what’s your job even supposed to be if you’re willing to sit and do nothing while students are beaten for four hours?#not equipped to handle it? fine then call someone who is! don’t just let it happen#i can hear and see the news helicopters constantly and it’s pissing me off
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
what the hell is going on?
masterlist - next chapter
word count: 1k
[a/n: i lied...i started writing and it just felt right so uh surprise!! this is a shoji x reader fic...the agenda continues. anyways, i apologize for the quality, i’m trying to get back into the groove of writing. well, enjoy chapter 1 of this mess. -yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´- ]
“You know what, that is a great question Denki...that seems like a question for your Hero Laws professor.” Midnight clasped her hands together awkwardly, quickly muttering,”I’m sure Shota would love that.”
You snickered from beside Kaminari and elbowed his side.
“Anyways! That’s it for today class. Please make sure to turn in your ethics case study by tonight. I’ll probably be up till 2am, so that’s your deadline. Now get out of here.” She grinned as everyone started to pack their things.
“Hey! Sero, Mina, and I were gonna grab some coffee before English. Wanna come with?��� Denki looked up at you from his seat as you situated your laptop in your bag and tossed it onto your shoulders.
“Uhh yeah, sure.” He glanced down at his watch. “I’m pretty sure Shinsou is still on his shift anyways.”
So the both of you waited by the quad fountain until a familiar head of pink har came into view.
“You know...when you say ‘be there in 5 minutes’, it’s usually overcompensation for ‘I’m literally right around the corner.’ Not ‘I’m halfway across campus!” You scoffed, all in good fun.
“We were not ‘halfway across campus!” She rolled her eyes, using over dramatic air quotes. “It literally took us-” She paused to look down at her phone. “Three extra minutes to get here!”
“Yeah, three whole minutes (Y/n)!” Sero joined in.
You hooked your arm around Mina’s,“Well let’s go then!”
“What’s the rush? We have like half an hour before Mic’s class?” Sero asked as he fell in step with Denki.
The blonde smirked.
“It’s because a certain someone is working at the cafe today!” He watched in amusement as a blush burned your cheeks.
“Oh shut up Kami!”
“REALLY?!” Mina gasped. “WHO IS IT?”
“It’s no one, really-!” You clambered to come up with a response.
“Ohh my god! It’s Shoji, right?” Sero smacked Denki’s arm. “It has to be! Aizawa basically scolded her for drooling all over him!”
“I did not drool, Sero!”
“Then why are you so red right now!” Mina squealed in laughter.
“I-It’s hot today...that’s all.”
“Sweetheart, it’s about 55 degrees today. It drizzled this morning and you’re wearing a jacket. There’s absolutely no way you're hot right now.” Sero sneered,
“No, no. She is hot.”
“Denki don’t even-”
“Hot for Shoji!”
“Ugh screw all of you!” You pouted, placing your palms over your cheeks in a desperate attempt to cool off.
The topic quickly changed over to Midnight’s Ethics essay.
“It’s been a week, how have you not started?”
“I find I work best under pressure.” Denki shrugged ‘matter of factly.’
You scoffed in disbelief.
“Yeah, and I’m a giraffe with a unicorn horn.”
The four of you entered the campus cafe, the warmth making your nose feel a little fuzzy.
“Hey guys! Welcome in!” Kirishima flashed a toothy grin as he waved at you all. On bar, just behind the counter, you could make out a familiar head of purple hair. Shinsou looked up from the milk he was frothing and made quick eye contact with Denki before focusing his attention to the pitcher in his hand. What you didn’t miss was the faint blush on his cheeks.
As you all approached, you could also see Midoriya making a few drinks as well.
“Hey uh, where’s Shoji?” Sero leaned against the counter, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
“Oh Shoji? He just went to grab some ice.” Kirishima gestured to the door that probably led to the back of the cafe but, as if on cue, Shoji walked out with the bucket in hand. Seemingly noticing all the eyes on him he paused and waved with his free arm.
“Hey everyone, how’s it going?”
“Good, just chillin’. Ya know?” Denki answered slyly.
“Sounds good.” He nodded before he made eye contact with you. “Hey! You’re usual, right?”
You just stared, wide eyed before Mina reached over and tugged on your sleeve.
“Oh right! Uhh hey!” A nervous grin found its way to your lips. “Uhm yes, yes my usual would be great...t-thanks.”
“Great! I’ll get right on it.” And with that, he turned to continue whatever he was doing.
After we all paid, we sat at a table to wait for our drinks.
“Oh man, he’s whipped.” Sero shook his head.
“Can we not start this again?” You facepalmed.
“I’m just saying.” He raised his hands up in surrender. “He didn’t know anyone else's usual, and we’re all here about the same amount. Just admit it.”
“I-” You were cut off by your phone ringing. Frowning, you pulled it out of your pocket, quickly answering it. “Hey Iida, what’s going on?”
“Are you anywhere with a tv?” Glancing around, your eyes landed on the tv a few feet away from the table.
“Yeah, why?”
“Turn it on, go to channel 6.” Then he ended the call.
“Oop, okay...bye?”
“What’s up with Iida?” Mina quirked an eyebrow.
“I uhm, I’m not sure. Hold on.”
Getting up, you made your way to the counter.
“Hey Eiji, do you have the remote for the tv?”
“Huh?” He looked up at you before glancing under the counter. “Yeah. Knock yourself out.”
“Thanks.” You muttered, taking the remote from his outstretched hand.
“What’s going on?” Denki was visibly tensing up at the worry clearly on your face.
Ignoring his question, you got a little closer to the tv and turned it on, skipping channels until finally finding number six.
“A news channel?” You muttered, confusion deepening.
“-multiple cases of violent cannibal attacks spreading throughout Seoul last night. Authorities are still baffled at what could possibly cause these attacks. The public has been informed to be vigilant and stay calm for the time being-”
The reporter was cut off by the emergency broadcast playing through the speakers, colored bars replacing the broadcast.
“Attention students, this is headmaster Nezu speaking. Please stay calm and stay in doors. If you are not inside a building, please enter the nearest one and enter the safety of a classroom. If you are in the dormitories, please lock your doors and stay in your rooms until further notice.”
You could feel the anxiety rise through your body, fingertips shaking, heart beating, cold sweat starting to form on your brow. The tense atmosphere grew when screams could be heard outside.
Everyone’s head snapped to one of the wall length windows, a student had just tackled another to the ground and...tore a chunk of their neck….with their teeth...
There was blood everywhere.
“What the fuck was that?!” Denki covered his mouth in shock.
Without missing a beat, Shoji and Kirishima ran to the doors and locked them. Bringing down the metal security gate and securing it in place.
“What the hell is going on?!”
The remote fell from your hand and clattered to the floor. Your knees giving out and meeting with the hard tiled floor. Hands buried in your hair as the panic gripped your lungs, squeezing all the air from them.
Yes Mina, what the actual hell is going on?
78 notes
·
View notes
Text
radiant ⤖ han jisung
❖ genre : college!au ; love-hate relationship!au ; frenemies to lovers!au ; fluff
❖ word count : 10k.
❖ warning : explicit language & mentions of alcohol
❖ summary : you've made a mental note to yourself never to make dumb bets with J.One again because who knows you'll fall for Han Jisung over two cups of boba?
one.
College.
That specific morifying seven-letter word can literally make someone jump off a cliff. Like straight up, Lucifer would rather drink and bathe himself in holy water than to join one of the world's most traumatizing systems. Where knowledge is being drilled into people's mind like a tattoo, and it's not even a cute one, one that you most likely will regret later.
Man, what a life.
After highschool, most people thought they were ready, physically and mentally. That's not true. Did you really think that you're ready for monotonous lectures, for back-to-back assignments with ridiculous deadlines, for cramming forty slides of the PowerPoint presentation from your professor the night before an exam just because your brain cells decided to say 'fuck it' in the middle of the lecture ?
No one's ever ready for living to torture themselves.
Not even Hwang Hyunjin. Hyunjin, the boy you grew up having him right by your window. Hyunjin, that one kid in class who would always hand people his homework whenever they asked for it. He's too kind for this world, for his own good, you often say that to yourself but Hyunjin isn't really all that great.
He too takes pain in turning in assignments to the T.A and dreads his 9am classes tremendously. But, since he's got a rich ass uncle who has some spare apartments lying somewhat near college ( as long as he preserves the place and invites someone over to help paying the bills ), he doesn't have to deal with the struggles of living on campus.
And you, just happen to have the honor to live with him. Well, more like temporarily to see how things will work out later. You despise living on campus anyway.
"What's with the long face ? Did Minho ramble about his cats again instead of working ?" Hyunjin walks into the living room before dropping his keys into the gold-accent bowl that he previously purchased from a garage sale. It's quite convenient, actually, the keys never end up under the couch or some random drawers again.
You look up from your laptop screen, sparing him a glare and focusing back on your assignment. Being a media major is equivalent to taking lots of notes and a shit ton of reading which is a pain in the ass. Meanwhile, a theatre kid like your roommate has his midterms and finals as setting up plays for school's events. Pfft, privileged people.
You don't hate-hate the idea of going to school like some people, in fact, you genuinely love learning, but you're in desperate need of another word for 'child labour' to be applied to this ... situation.
"Ohoho.. It's way worse, trust me, you don't wanna know." You lean your head sideways on one of the pillows, words slightly slurred with your cheek being pressed against the soft surface.
Hyunjin raises his voice from the kitchen area. "Did he confess his love for you or something ?"
"Jesus no ! You know he's not into me like that." You almost screech and sit straight up. "We were supposed to finish our project that's due this Friday. And guess who else was there ? Another chick showed up ! I swear that I wasn't hallucinating, he brought a new one home every other day. She said she was just 'a friend'." You make the quote-on-quote sign with your fingers to emphasize.
You pull on your own hair dramatically with all your might, hissing under your breath just by recalling it. "And whenever we had a twenty-minute break every hour and a half or so, she keeps brushing herself against him, acting all innocent about it. I was deadass pissed off—"
"Woah woah, I don't think it's that—"
You throw your hands in the air helplessly, suppressing the urge to throw a tantrum. "It is that bad, Hyunjin ! The chick doesn't know how to take a fucking hint !" Whatever, Hyunjin is probably too tired to wait for you to finish complaining about some random classmate drooling over Minho because they do that all the time anyway.
"Damn." He sips on his apple juice. "I should come over next time. Might be a not-so-shitty, watered-down version of 'Fifty Shades of Grey'."
You shoot him a glare, closing your laptop shut. "I instantly regret moving in with you."
"Why ?" Hyunjin pouts and plops himself next to you on the beige-colored couch. He reaches for the remote on the coffee table while obnoxiously sipping on the box of juice.
"Because apparently, you love weird, gross, mushy noises as much as Minho does." You answer flatly, burying yourself deeper into the white fuzzy blanket. Actually, no. Living with Hyunjin isn't as bad as you're trying to make it sound.
He might not cook, but he knows some decent restaurant with reasonable prices. He might be all over the place sometimes while panicking over an upcoming exam but at least he keeps his space organized ( unlike Han Jisung, whose closet is a perfect resemblance of World War III ).
Hyunjin throws his apple juice into the nearby bin while scrolling through the 'Romance' section briefly. And sharing the same Netflix account is probably the best decision you two have ever made. "What's worth-hating here ? No smelly kids, no not-having-enough-personal-space problem. There's good food, a cute, quirky roommate which naturally equals good company. You're living your best life right now. The only downside to this is that you have to deal with my questionable sleeping habits."
Fine. Hwang Hyunjin is cute, and a total heartthrob to the entire school. You won't be surprised if every single male student hates him with a passion ( which they do ). Not to mention, all of your female classmates would be more than happy to finish all of your assignments within two days as long as you hand over his number. Although they might want to reconsider due to the fact that this good-looking boy is also that person who records his alarm by yelling at the top of his lungs into his phone speaker.
But, a good friend wouldn't do that, because even God doesn't know what those creepy girls would do once they had their hands on his phone number. This is also why you always get dirty looks from everyone just because you just happen to be his plus-one for everything.
And Hwang Hyunjin only needs a plus-one when Seungmin decides to hate him on that day ( which is almost everyday ). So there goes your reputation. You're probably nothing but a mediocre girl who just doesn't know when not to be all over her hot best friend in the people's eyes.
Hyunjin snaps his head towards the front door when the bell rings then proceeds to turn back to his roommate, showing those ridiculously adorable puppy that naturally implies as 'Get the door for me, will ya ?'. And although all you want to do is to slap him with your laptop, you still stand up nonetheless. You undo the chains and slides the lock over before swinging the door open.
"Hyunjin, I was wondering if you wanna come see us perform this Saturday. You know, at the school's mini music festival. 8p.m. Got two tickets to spare. You can get yourself a plus-one or something." And before you - with an obnoxiously loud tone, the leather jacket and Balenciaga cap - is Changbin, who sassily brushes past you and makes a beeline towards the couch, where Hyunjin is man-spreading, wrapped up securely in his white fluffy blanket.
He lazily sits up from his previous position, receiving the tickets with half-open eyes. "I'll go. As long as 'Wow' is on schedule." 'Wow' is 3racha's first and most definitely last attempt of a love song but somehow, it's managed to get itself a special place in Hyunjin's heart. Well, more accurately, everyone's heart.
Changbin cocks an eyebrow. "It's first on the list actually." He then turns to you with a smirk spread across his lips. "Whatcha say, Y/N ? We all know your favorite line is 'Excuse me noona, do you have a boyfriend ?' from the lovely J.One." He refers to one of Jisung's lines in a love song which he wrote at the age of 16, Changbin wasn’t even 18 himself then. Good times. And now literally every girl is more than ready to throw themselves at him anytime, anywhere. Chan really didn't lie when he proclaimed 3racha as 'hot'.
You shake your head with a timid smile tugged on your lips. "I don't think so Bin, I'm having midterms on Monday, J.One can be saved later as my midnight snack whenever I wanna grill his ass for pestering me during the golden hour aka 3a.m."
Midterms sound good enough for an excuse because everyone would literally kill keep their A-s on those report cards. But unfortunately, you can't just play on the infamous SpearB that easily because apparently, being roommates with Hyunjin has absolutely nothing to do with improving your awful acting skills.
Just then, the most inappropriate, insufferable, infuriating, and other synonyms for 'annoying' clapback clicks inside Changbin's brain when an imaginary lightbulb pops up at the top of his head. "Man, you two are really out there banging each other in secret—"
And out the door he goes before you feel the need to personally stitch up his lips with your terrible sewing skills from elementary school. You close your eyes and takes in a deep breath, shutting the door behind your back while Hyunjin is too busy laughing his ass off on the couch.
This is getting to the point where you don't even need Han Jisung to be here to have the urge to strangle him, because his trash friends are no help at all.
two.
You step onto the bus with your earbuds on, right hand dropping the bus ticket into the glass box that's neatly placed right beside the driver's seat. Another day, another 4 hours of lectures and 2 continuous shifts which is another 5 hours at the café on campus, in which, sucks. But, what makes it even suckier comes right in three, two, one..
"Two people please !" A disturbingly obnoxious voice chirps right behind you. Just then, a figure dashes through the couple who are currently throwing daggers at him with their eyes. Not this again. You groans to yourself before sliding an extra ticket into the box because you definitely know better than to mess with a cranky bus driver. That boy over there really gotta pay for that shit.
Then, you take a seat beside the window, deciding to ignore the pest who just made you spend an extra ticket for his ride. You really should have taken another bus instead of the 325. Suddenly, a hand reaches towards one of your earbuds and pulls it out quickly. A puff of air hits your left eardrums like a rush of electricity, causing you to jump a bit.
"Can you stay still for a good span of 10 fucking seconds ?" You deadpan and and snap your head around. And before you - with slightly damp fringe covering his warm brown orbs, cute button nose and peachy lips ( gross ) - is Han Jisung. More accurately, the bane of your existence.
Jisung chuckles loudly at the big scowl on your face as he angles his head to take a proper look at you. You look like you just rolled out of bed, literally, not even metaphorically. Sweatpants, flannels and sneakers are the way to go if you're gonna be on your feet all day running around to serve sleep-deprived students and professors. Of course you look like a complete bum, it's 9a.m. What did he expect ?
"Aw." He pouts. "Where's the fun in that then, little cub ?"
And when Jisung reaches a hand out to pat your head, you frowns at his particularly ridiculous nickname for you and slaps his hand away. He watched the new remake of 'The Lion King' before the new semester started and cried like a total baby when Mufasa fell off the cliff, said Felix. Honestly, you wouldn't blame him because those devastating thirty seconds remain to be the most heartbreaking scene that Disney has ever invented. But still, the nickname is painfully unoriginal.
"Man, I hope you bombed your midterms or something." You speak up flatly, a slightly better retort lingering at the tip of your tongue but you're far too tired to argue with him anyway. And not to mention, your previous statement is completely useless because if Hwang Hyunjin is that kid who works his ass off to get good grades then Jisung is the complete opposite of that. He can sleep through ten lectures and still get a minimum of 90% on his exams. The perks of being a prodigy since newborn, can't relate.
Jisung feigns a painful expression, scrunching his nose up in fake agony. "How supportive of you, so incredibly validating." He cocks his head upwards carelessly, giving you a full view of his side profile.
Okay. Despite his annoying personality and questionable nicknames for everyone then Han Jisung is kinda attractive. You get it, you get it, Hwang Hyunjin is attractive but this prick is another kind of attractive.
Whenever he screams his heart out at the mic on stage, there are literal silver and gold specks floating in his eyes like an explosion of stardust scattered across the whole universe. And the way he conveys his emotions into his lyrics to perform an entire song on stage is just tremendously remarkable. No wonder all the girls always come rushing in when J.One is on stage.
Wait, were you thinking about Han Jisung or J.One ? But no, Han Jisung is J.One. It's just that J.One is slightly cooler than Jisung because he doesn't pester people until they have a cardiac arrest. Whatever, your brain is already yelling for retirement.
"You are coming to watch my performance right ?" Jisung suddenly leans over, your noses almost touching. Being the idiotic person that you are, your body immediately locks itself in place, hissing slightly at the current proximity. Great, now what ?
"Ooh." A low whistle escapes his lips. "You were too busy checking me out. It's okay, that's understandable. Not everyone can have a close-up of J.One's out-of-this-world visual." He flips his imaginary long hair and you make a gagging noise.
"I was not !" You exclaim upon embarrassment, cheeks turning into a bright shade of coral. "There's just something in your teeth."
"Uh huh, I doubt it." Yeah, he would never buy that. Jisung smiles at you cheekily and once again, Han Jisung has proved that he's the kind of guy who has the particular type of smile that makes you want to knock their teeth out. Although you can't help but fall for it nonetheless. Very typical of you. "So, are you coming or nah ?"
Your heart tingles a bit, and you feel like you can just pass out right here right now on this stupid bus in the middle of this stupid conversation with his stupid boy and his stupid smile. "No, I have my midterms on Monday. Guess who's pulling all nighters again ?" You push his face away because if not, you might as well just explode and make a fool of yourself.
"Ahhhh, why not ?" Jisung whines as if there's no tomorrow. "It's not like you enjoy drowning yourself in Kang's 40 slides of 'History of Media 101' anyway." Now, for once in a fairly long time, the bastard finally said something that wasn't complete bullshit. And you're starting to reconsider your decision because although Han Jisung is undeniably insufferable, J.One can make it up with his dope performances. But then again, you really just don't want to see his face on Saturdays.
Suddenly he rolls himself over again, his lips drawing a devilish smile. You can tell already from the dangerous look in his eyes, it's not going to end well.
"Are you in for a bet ? If I win, you'll have to go. But if you win, I'll do whatever you want me to, for an entire week. You're basically the privileged one here, don't even deny it."
three.
Changbin wakes up from his long nap to find Chan having his eyes glued to the laptop's screen as if his life depends on it. It makes him wonder how long his friend has been working on the rearrangement of all their songs for this Saturday's music festival.
"I see that you're making quite the progress." He grunts slightly before sitting up straight. The small faux leather couch that their school has in the band practice room isn't exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep on. But after what seems like an eternity in the lecture hall, tolerating the professor's rant then Changbin wouldn't even mind sleeping on the floor.
Chan slowly peels his eyes away from the screen and blinks numerous times so that he won't potentially go blind. He looks over at Changbin's slouch figure on the couch, tapping away on his phone and smiles dumbly at some memes that Minho just DM-ed to their group chat.
"Damn right, I just finished chopping up the bits of back-up vocals. I feel like my back is so fragile that it might break in half if I stand up." He runs a hand through his mop of black hair that's nowhere near the definition of 'doable' and yawns into his other palm.
He peeks over his shoulder to see Hyunjin and Felix sleeping while leaning against the mirror, Minho laying on top of Jeongin as he chuckles creepily at his phone. And Woojin is too busy singing his heart out with his guitar in the corner to notice Seungmin capturing everyone in their greatest glory, meaning when they're all a hot mess.
Changbin swings his legs over and slips into his black Adidas slides, walking over to Chan in a sluggish manner. He crouches down a bit while squinting his eyes to take a proper look at the laptop screen. Chan indeed has finished most of it, no wonder he looks ( and probably smells ) like trash. "I'll give you a hand, just send these over to me after when you got home." He says, giving his friend a pat on his back.
"Yeah sure," Chan puts a hand over his mouth to cover up another yawn. "By the way, where the fuck is Jisung ? He hasn't been answering my texts all morning."
Changbin gives him an indifferent shrug. "He said he would be on campus all day on Thursdays since he has classes and work right after- hold on he's texting me."
[ 5:23pm ]
piece of shit : where are you guys ?
baby changbin : band room, clearly you never listened.
[ 5:24pm ]
piece of shit : yeesh, I was busy you ass. texting y/n and all.
baby changbin : it was fucking 3a.m. !
[ 5:25pm ]
piece of shit : whatever, we'll be there in two.
He pauses for a while and lets the words sink in. Why "we" and not "I" ? Since when this was a plural thing ? Did all of those lectures and serving sleep-deprived students fuck up his brain cells ?
Wow, now Changbin feels bold to assume that Han Jisung even own brain cells. And before he can show the texts to the rest of his friends to make fun of Jisung while he's not here, the glass door swings open. Hyunjin and Felix jolt up in surprise at the same time, almost bumping their heads together at the creaking sound.
"We got you kids boba, wake up wake up hurry hurry SCHNELL !" Jisung screeches loudly when he pushes himself through the front door, accidentally making you bump your forehead into the dull glass surface.
You follows him inside with a big scowl on your face, quickly passing Changbin the plastic bags. Yes, you can hear the polar bears crying in the distance loud and clear but unluckily you only have two hands for ten cups of boba.
"Why boba all of a sudden ?" Minho looks up from his phone in boredom as Jeongin is utterly dying underneath, slapping his palm repeatedly against the floor in exhaustion.
Minho feels ( kinda ) bad for him and decides to roll himself over, setting Jeongin free from his miserable state. "Did you two go on a date or something ?" The youngest one's features morph into a frown, eyeing the two up and down in caution when he crosses his legs together.
You make an unimpressed face and glares at Jisung, who's currently hogging the entire black couch on his own. "Who the fuck would make their date carry everything then ? You tell me Jeongin."
Woojin stands up after craning his neck and shakes his head in disapproval. "My greatest disappointment, Han Jisung, would do that unfortunately." He walks over to Felix and Hyunjin to get himself a cup from the bag.
"Let's be honest, you'd still date him even if he does that anyway. I haven never seen any other girl who has the courage to personally rummage through his disastrous closet just to steal a hoodie." He takes a sip and smirks at the black hoodie that you're wearing. Woojin thinks you should definitely give yourself more credit because personally, he can't be bothered to step into Jisung's room, much less his closet.
You're still slightly confused for a moment there but quickly look down and almost gasp in realization. "I can explain—"
"Don't worry Y/N, if he ever mistreats you, you best believe that he's not gonna see tomorrow's daylight." Felix supplies unhelpfully over a mouthful of boba. Since when did he become such a nuisance ? But he's not entirely wrong because if no one volunteers to skin Jisung alive when he leaves you with a broken heart then Hyunjin will literally disown him. He doesn't care if it's legal or not because even a law student like Woojin would be on his side in this.
You hold up your hand defeatedly. "The jerk purposely left it on my couch back at the apartment. And Hyunjin didn't want to return nor wash it so I was obligated to do that myself. Eventually, the hoodie just ended up on a hanger right behind my bedroom door. Not to mention, I was running late earlier and had nothing to wear." You finish your sentence, realizing that your roommate has been giving you a 'wtf' face all his time.
"Out of reasons already ?" Chan chirps, raising a dark brow.
Okay.
In your defense, it's a goddamn good hoodie. The material is actually really nice that you might accidentally fall asleep if you wear this to class. You didn't mind the design on it either, kinda boyish but very funky, almost hippie looking. And last but not least, the smell of it is intoxicating, leaving you yearning for more. That's also equivalent to Jisung smells nice ( ew ) and your cheeks automatically heat up at the thought of feeling like he's hugging you whenever you wear it.
You frantically try to explain with expressive hands. "Look, guys—"
"You're going this Saturday !!" Jisung's voice suddenly booms behind your back as he declares loudly like it's the most worth-knowing thing in the whole wide world. The guys trade confused look with each other, not knowing what nonsense their friend is babbling about. Whatever, they don't have to either way. "You're going, you're going, you're going !"
You look over at Hyunjin's cup in disbelief, completely full and untouched. Meanwhile, Felix has already finished his drink in between the 15-minute conversation. You blinks and quickly comprehends the new amount of information, you lost the bet. Which means...
Screw midterms.
four.
Screw the music festival, you’re not going anywhere.
“How’s this ?” Hyunjin steps out from his room with a white dress shirt tucked inside his skinny jeans. And you hate him even more now because your roommate looks totally #boyfriendmaterial in every outfit that he’s been trying for the past half an hour. Really, Hyunjin should give himself more credit for his looks because you bet girls would still throw themselves at him even if he showed up to school looking homeless and all.
You look up from your phone in boredom. “Looks good to me.”
Upon your flat reply, Hyunjin shoots you a glare. “Good ? It only stops there at ‘good’ ? Then which item in my closet appeals to you as ‘spectacular’ or ‘breathtaking’ ? Should I just hire a personal stylist or something ?” He wants to snap at you but ends up whining like a elementary school kid that’s not allowed to drink his favorite soda from the vending machine.
“Dude, eat a chill pill.” You frown slightly at his particularly dramatic ass ( tsk, drama majors ) and decide to put your phone down. “You’re going to a music festival, at uni. Not attending some kind of award shows for celebrities.”
Hyunjin snickers before clicking his tongue. “And you’re planning on wearing that ?”
Your roommate is stressing himself over being overdressed for an event. You, on the other hand, haven’t even made up your mind about an outfit yet and your plus-one is picking you up in less than 30 minutes. And you’re still here, on the couch, in your pyjamas. Call it madness but personally, you wouldn’t mind wearing this to the music festival. Music is technically art in some kind of shape or form and only uncultured swines judge those who prefer being comfy over fashionable.
Come on, it’s art. Your pyjamas can express yourself in some sort of way right ?
“Stop shitting on my Mickey Mouse sweatpants as if it’s something straight out of the 1910s.” You protest, urging to throw the jar filled with gummy bear on the coffee table at his precious face. Mickey is definitely not going anywhere since you guys have been bonding since middle school.
Hyunjin pauses in the middle of his track going back into his room. Suddenly he turns around and smiles at you creepily. “It’s Jisung, isn’t it ?”
Yeah, no. Most definitely not. Still not him. Nuh uh. Okay… Maybe it’s because you don’t want to embarrass your plus-one because he’s also a total heartthrob. Maybe, it could be something about the fact that you’re afraid you’re not gonna look as good as your roommate. Or maybe it’s something inside the can of Redbull that you downed last night while rewatching the last episode of ‘Goblin’. You don’t even like Redbull.
Shit, you’re running out of excuses already.
“Actually, I was thinking that it’d be better if I didn’t show up.” You confess timidly, scared to meet Hyunjin’s confused expression.
When you gather enough courage to look up, he looks absolutely unimpressed and partially disappointed. “And you’re just gonna rain-check on Choi Yeonjun like that ? Changbin’s not letting this slide, I’ll tell you that.” He shakes his head in disapproval, this time turning on his heels to walk towards his bedroom door.
Something inside your stomach is tickling, as if it’s trying to tell you that you’re about to commit some kind of unforgivable sin if you don’t go to the festival. And just when you’re about to ignore it and wrap yourself up warmly on the L-shaped couch like the lazy bum that you are, your phone buzzes.
[ 4:24pm ]
yeonjun | I’ll be there in five.
five.
Only losers go to a music festival without a plus-one.
Hyunjin is one lucky bastard because Seungmin is tolerating his ass for the day. Meanwhile, Woojin is too busy pestering Felix to let him sneak into backstage looking for Changbin. And by now, everyone probably knows that Minho is secretly obsessed with Jeongin since he's decided to stick himself to the youngest like the spoiled parasite that he is. But that's not the point. Point is : you're terrible at navigation so you're obligated to get yourself a plus-one.
And he just happens to be Choi Yeonjun, that one business major who's secretly a dancer that left everyone's wig flying to Africa during last year's prom. You two have walked past each other before between periods and since he's an acquaintance of Changbin, he'd always wave back at you with the sweetest smile. You see him as a fun person to be around, kinda like a sunshine.
But what you didn't know is that, if your group of friend's chaotic energy is 3000, then Yeonjun alone is already on another level.
"Why the long face Y/N ? Enjoy the music, relax, let the night set you free !" Yeonjun chuckles at the frown on your face as he swings an arm over your shoulder. You can already tell that he's getting a bit tipsy from his tinted red cheeks and his breath smells like beer. Never knew the guy couldn't go heavy with his alcohol. Much like your roommate himself.
You peel the red plastic cup away from his hand to abandon it on some random table, dragging him away from the bar before his friend - Beomgyu, offers him some kind of sketchy looking drink. The kid is only a freshman and you feel like you should strangle the person who permitted him to be the bartender for the night.
"Alright, that's enough beer for you." You tell him mild-seriously, partially because you don't want him to end up knocked out in the middle of nowhere and partially because you can't contain someone who's drunk, not even yourself. "Let's find Soobin, I bet he's running around campus looking for your ass."
"What do you mean he's looking for my ass ? He's at home playing stupid boardgames with stupid Taehyun." Yeonjun slurs, shaking the haziness away furiously before fluttering his eyes upwards. "Look !" He squeals a little bit too loudly for anyone's liking. "It's your boyfriend !"
You abruptly put your index finger on his lips. "Shh shhh ! Han Jisung is not my boyfriend ! Watch your mouth, please, I beg." You hush him and glance around to look for any signs of Hyunjin or Felix popping out from a random bush to make fun of you. "We're barely friends, why would you think that we're dating ?!" You cry dramatically, cheeks burning with a bright shade of pink.
The blue haired boy makes a thinking face, which you think it's undeniably cute, before pointing towards the stage. "Because he's looking at you ?" He says cluelessly, giggling while clapping happily like a seal.
You unconsciously lift your head to eye the stage. Time seems to stop when you realize Jisung has been staring at you all this time. His expression is unfathomable. Your heart starts thundering loudly inside your rib cage, so loud that it overcomes the loud EDM music in the background, so loud that you're afraid he might hear it even when he's so far away.
In this light, in the middle of your chaos, there is Jisung. And he's absolutely otherworldly, radiant, dazzling, coruscating. Gosh, you can go on forever if your brain cells allow you to.
The moment he breaks eye contact, that's when you're pondering over who is it that your heart is beating for. Han Jisung ? Or is it just J.One ? Because you've seen Jisung as a total pest who never takes things seriously, who always makes you pay an extra ticket for his ride to uni, who spontaneously sends you derp pictures of him in the middle of a lecture. But no matter where you go, he would constantly pop up inside your mind out of nowhere. Like a phantom.
Suddenly, Chan's voice booms through the speaker, making you jump. "The performance of 3racha will be delayed due to technical errors. We apologize for this inconvenience." You stand there dumbly, blinking numerous times for his words to sink in. The question here isn't really 'what?' but 'why?'. 3racha take music very seriously and they're not the type to slack off any performances even if it's just for a school's small event.
You snap your head back to the stage, Chan and Changbin are talking to a technical staff, an apologetic smile blooming on their faces. But wait, where the fuck is Jisung ?
"Told ya !" Yeonjun hiccups into your ear. "What kind of non-boyfriend will cancel a performance just to come and see you like this ?" You should have gone with Hyunjin, you really should.. You bet he's not even half as drunk a Yeonjun right now since all Seungmin drinks is kombucha.
Unexpectedly, and also expectedly, you find yourself staring at Jisung, who's speed-walking towards your direction, like a complete dumbass. There's fire flickering at the back of his irises, burning intensely onto you. His brows are knitted together, his jacket hanging slightly over his shoulder, teasing you with a flash of his biceps. You also notice how the microphone is still there, in his hand.
Did he fucking leave the stage just to see you ?
Jisung breathes out a puff of smoke from the chilly air. "Y/N, got you."
Your heart actually feels like it’s hanging on the edges when your name rolls off his tongue so tenderly. "And you are ?" He looks over at Yeonjun with an almost disgusted expression, his hand instinctively reaching for yours. You don't blame him either way because Yeonjun looks like he just made it out of one of the world's most traumatizing lunatic asylum with shitty security. And Jisung wouldn't let you walk around with a crazy guy attached to you like a total creep. Not when he's monitoring.
“Y/N’s plus-one ?”
“Well that makes two of us.”
Yeonjun holds his hands up as if he's being held at gunpoint. "Easy, dude, I'm leaving. I'm leaving. She's all yours." He laughs, sounding almost too nervous to be true because Jisung is somewhat scary whenever someone gets on his bad side. Just ask Highschool Hyunjin.
"You're wasted as fuck, what makes you think that I'll let you go home alone like this ?" You say, flinching slightly when you feel Jisung tightens his grip on your hand. He cocks a brow as if he's testing you.
"Nah, I'm not going anywhere. Just gonna swing by the bar, Beomgyu probably came up with something to knock me out." Without a proper goodbye nor a hug like his normally playful self usually does, the blue haired boy turns on his heels to walk away from the scene. And you exhale deeply out of relief, not because you hated Yeonjun's company, you might actually hang out with him again. Just not where there's alcohol.
Jisung still hasn't let go of your hand yet, and surprisingly, you don't want him to. "I take that as you two aren't dating ?" He questions, studying your features more closely. You're really pretty, he thinks. Jisung has never once hesitant about using the word 'pretty' for you and he's not afraid to show it either. It's just that you never bothered to notice.
"No ? Hyunjin decided to ditch me for Seungmin and Yeonjun's a mutual friend through Changbin so we texted, and he picked me up after when Hyunjin left." You give him a weird look, confused by how pissed off he looks right now. "And I take that as you're jealous ?"
Jisung laughs humorously, his voice doused in dry sarcasm. "Huh, funny. Last time I checked, you were supposed to be backstage with me since you lost the bet, not clinging yourself onto some hot guy from Changbin's Biochem 101." Of course Jisung is pissed off. How could he not when you're all smiling and laughing with another guy, when he has an arm over your shoulder, holding you so lovingly, so tightly ? Another guy that's not him.
You widen your eyes at how ridiculous he sounds, almost in disbelief. "Excuse you ? Since when 'being backstage with you' was even a thing in our bet ?" Yeah, completely unheard of. "And I was not clinging onto him, I'll have you know that he chugged on a bottle of Hennie and ended up wobbling around like a fucking toddler !"
Your voice is getting louder and louder by the second, chest heaving up and down in anger because he is in fact, being extra insufferable tonight. You haven’t seen him acting like this since he officially declared cold war with Hyunjin back in junior year highschool.
"Oh yeah ? Then what ? You liked that ? It makes me sick to the stomach seeing you giggling at one of his stupid jokes. You seemed so fucking comfortable even when he's this close ?" Jisung tugs in your arm to pull you closer, his cool breath fanning your forehead. Your cheeks unknowingly feel hot, but you're not going to admit it to his face. "You're completely okay with this ?"
You grimace a stiff smile. "Of course I am." Oh boy were you wrong.
"Even now ?" He places his hands over your shoulder to bend down, angling his face so that the tip of his nose is brushing over yours. His gaze pierces right through you, leaving you completely stripped and vulnerable. And you hate every single part of this. You hate how you heart is swelling, how his touches burn like fire, how much effect he has on you with such minimal effort.
Jisung says with a devilish smirk blooming on his lips. "Hmm ? I don't know Y/N, you look pretty burnt up to me."
"It's because of the heat—" You instantly regret what you said when it starts to rain. Droplets of water repeatedly tap against your skin like clear champagne. A cloud shadows over you two and another splatter of rain comes along. Goosebumps rise on your skin at the cool sensation as your limbs lock themselves in place. Jisung has never broken eye contact with yours since then, specks of good and silver floating in his eyes like a brilliant explosion of a supernova.
Just when you thought your lips was gonna collide, something unexpected happens. Jisung takes off his jacket and swings it over your shoulders. He gently holds you by the waist as he hurries you inside, your gaze never once leaves his features. He's saying something but you can't quite catch it, it's hard to concentrate when he's being all affectionate and sweet to you like this.
You are far too busy telling your heart not to explode.
six.
Felix stomps over to your table and slams his tray of food down aggressively. Everyone peels their eyes off what they’re doing for the time being, throwing a weird look towards him. With a satisfied smile on his face, Felix drops his notebook onto the table. Changbin glances at him with an expressionless face, almost yawned in boredom. “And how did it go again ?” He drawls tiredly as if he has heard the same joke over and over for an entire week.
“You know that feeling when you feel like you’re completely detached from your own body and just stare at yourself from above ? I was up there, mind blank while my mouth couldn’t stop blabbering about what ever the fuck was on those slides. I ditched my Flashcards, completely untouched, 5 minutes has never flown by so quick. Boom, the professor didn’t even think twice about giving me an A.” Felix leans back on his chair comfortably after wrapping up his story.
Seungmin scrunches his nose at his friend. “Yeah sure, it’s an A. Big fucking deal.” Kim Seungmin basically has a full scholarship straight to college in the middle of his senior highschool year, you can say that he has the right to be unimpressed.
Minho shrugs indifferently, scrolling through his feed to kill some time. “It is for Yongbok apparently, give him a break. You know he hardly gets any when his brain only consists of Seo Changbin and Fortnite.”
Felix hisses at the older boy like a cat when you accidentally step on its tail, threatening to gouge out one of his eyes with the plastic fork on his hand. Minho being on his ass 24/7 just makes college that much more of a hellhole. He can’t help but roll his eyes in annoyance because no one is even trying to spare a ‘Good job’ or ‘Good for you’. He might actually need new friends, Felix ponders.
But wait, something’s missing.
Jisung didn’t even try to make fun of him. And he never missed a single chance to pester him or call him out every time he’s all giddy over good grades. In other words, his secret life as a potential nerd has been foiled thanks to Han Jisung. But apparently, girls find it hot when a nerd is secretly a dancer.
He looks over to his friend and frowns furiously. A hood thrown over his head, eyes glued to his laptop screen, Jisung looks extra antisocial today and Felix can feel something’s off because he would be jumping around, yelling into your ears by now, not making a PowerPoint presentation. “What’s wrong with you two ?” He asks, noticing how you’re also acting strange.
You’re mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, and stop abruptly at a new post from @j.one. It’s a picture of Jisung grinning while gripping on a microphone followed by a caption “Always have so much fun performing w/ my bros, @spearB & @cb97 - photo by @princehwang #SocialSaturday”.
You almost snickered, feeling the need to change it into “#TBT”. Not only because this photo was taken months ago for a summer music festival nearby Uni, but also because this bright side of Han Jisung no longer exists. He hardly talked to you since Saturday, ignored you when you made eye-contact with him on the hallways, didn’t even ask you to pay for his ride.
Basically, he’s making a fuss out of nothing. But you wouldn’t say that it feels good not having him call you ‘little cub’ 50 times a day or send you random messages during a lecture like ‘go out with me ?’. You never take them seriously anyway because he can’t like you just like that, right ? “Ask him, not me.” You raise a brow towards Jisung, earning a glare from him as a reply. “I’m not the one who’s being petty over me going to a music festival with Choi Yeonjun.”
Jisung sighs dramatically and shuts his laptop close. “Is that all you got ?” He inquires sarcastically as if he’s gonna set you on fire if you dare to try him.
“That’s what I said the first time we played Mario Kart together, isn’t it ? I totally kicked your ass, to the curb.” You protest as the blood running through your veins slowly boils. If it weren’t for Hyunjin to hold your shoulders in place, you would have thrown hands at Jisung.
Jisung slams his hands onto the surface of the table harshly, almost knocked the whole table over. “Yeah, that’s why Chan never lets you drive because you’re exactly the reason for all of our wild turbulence. Because you suck at driving !”
You feel like you’re being held in a chokehold, literally and metaphorically because you can’t even drag Jisung down to the very bottom of Hell when you’re fully capable of doing that. Not before you kill him with your bare hands.
“I mean one of us had to have the guts to drive everyone back after a party where y’all got fucking wasted. College parties are so lit, they say. Who the fuck does three keg stands in a row just to run around the neighborhood shirtless later on ?!” You clatter loudly, earning a ‘wtf’ look from the students at the opposite table.
“Who wants another milkshake ? It’s on me.” Woojin interrupts the two of you, already pulling out his wallet in a rush.
Jisung’s ears automatically turn red, and you smirk at the sight of his pink cheeks upon both embarrassment and anger. “What did you just say ?”
“Ten milkshakes it is.” Chan drags Woojin out of his seat and the two of them helplessly walk towards the canteen cashier from across your table. He’s already given up, you can tell. Because if not, he would just personally hang Jisung upside down on a tree ( his natural habitat ) so that he can cool down before he said something he’d definitely regret later.
You push Hyunjin away and stand up right, staring at Jisung dead in the eye. “What’s wrong ? Cat got your tongue ?” Are you finally getting back at him ? Is this how victory taste like ?
“Say that again and I’m gonna— ugh ! Christ, I hate you !” Jisung sounds like he’s on the verge of exploding and you’re absolutely enjoying every single moment of this.
You mock him in amusement. “You’re gonna what ?”
“I’m gonna fucking kiss—“
Before Jisung could finish his sentence, Minho pulls his friend backwards and Jisung once again lands on his bottom, onto the wooden bench. “Okay, I don’t wanna ruin the heat but at least spare some of your sanity for the sake of publicity, yeah ? You know, if you guys wanna make out that bad, there’s always a restroom.”
Sanity ? For the sake of publicity ? Well, that changes everything. “WE’RE NOT GONNA MAKE OUT LEE MINHO YOU FUCKING BASTARD ! DON’T MAKE ME KNOCK KNOCK UPSIDE YOUR HEAD, YOU FILTHY PIECE OF SH-“ You’ve come to a decision that if Han Jisung doesn’t end up somewhere six feet under the ground, then Lee Minho - aka his best friend - is taking his bullet for today.
“Woah woah, Y/N, easy girl, easy.” Hyunjin holds you back with both hands. Okay, he gets why Jeongin doesn’t want to come over whenever you and Jisung are breathing in the same room now.
Jeongin scrunches his nose as he obnoxiously chews on his tuna sandwich. “Yeah, you guys need to cool down a little bit. You know, just chill out. That’s enough for your ‘friendly banter’, let the others enjoy their lunch in peace, will you ?”
You and Jisung continuously give each other death stares for the rest of your lunch break. Even when Chan and Woojin come rushing back with five cups of milkshakes each, even when it’s your favorite flavor in the entire world, it can never put out the fire of wrath that’s burning furiously deep inside. All you want to do is to have Han Jisung down on his knees and beg you for his life like how King Stefan did to Maleficent. The only difference is that Jisung actually doesn’t have a daughter.
Is that too much to ask for ?
seven.
[ 2:35pm ]
yeonjun | hey, I need to talk to you…
yeonjun | nearby café after school ? I can just wait if you’re getting out late.
You read the message on your way out of the lecture hall and widen your eyes. The hour displayed on your screen reads ‘3:45pm’. You immediately push your way through the crowd of sweaty students and run down the hallway like a psychopath. God, Yeonjun has been sitting alone at the café like a complete fool just because of you. Now you feel like a terrible human being.
“Woah, where are you going in such a hurry ?” Hyunjin yells at you loudly when you brush past him and Jeongin.
You hastily shout back at him before continuing to run. “Don’t wait for me ! Just spare me some left over !”
When you arrive at the café, you feel like you should give yourself a pat on the shoulder because you don't think you’ve ever run that fast before in your entire life. Not even for the marathon competitions during middle school.
And the café looks somewhat different today, something smells weird too, you notice. Then you realize that they just repainted the whole thing, replacing the old teal blue color into a warmer brownish color. The walls and windows are decorated with fairy lights, like a cherry on a sundae, it’s perfect for the upcoming winter break. Because students aren’t just gonna come here for the caffeine, they’re gonna hog this place for themselves sooner or later to get at least one aesthetic photo for the holiday.
You quickly spot Yeonjun sitting alone in the color while having his headphones on, slowly dozing off to the music. His cup of iced macchiato remains untouched with water dipping on the sides. A pang of guilt hits you almost instantly when you start walking towards his direction. As you sit down on the opposite seat, Yeonjun suddenly startles and shakes his sleepiness away.
“Hey, I’m so sorry, my phone was off all day.” You say with an apologetic smile on your face, feeling the guilt keeps piling onto your shoulders. “You could just leave or something, I wouldn’t be mad.”
Yeonjun removes his headphones and laughs slightly, scratching the nape of his neck. “It’s fine,” He waves his hands at you to tell you that everything’s okay. “I really need that short nap after all. God, I was dreading my neuroscience assignment all day. But hey, I really need to talk to you, that’s why I was so determined to wait.”
“Don’t even, Yeonjun. You could have just gone home and rest.” You shake your head at him in defeat. You swear to God, he’s too kind. “What’s so important that you wanted to talk to me so badly ?” You ask while flipping through the menu. The weather has been pretty chilly lately, it might be nice to have a hot chocolate.
Yeonjun’s ears turn red at your words and he starts to dart his eyes around, scared to meet your eyes. “I— uhm, look, I just—“ He stammers with tinted pink cheeks, which you find ridiculously adorable. “I just wanted to say sorry for what happened on Saturday.” He manages to squeak out and you have to hold back the urge to laugh. “I shouldn't have drunk that much beer, right ? You should feel lucky that I left you with your boyfriend because I may or may not have thrown up all over Beomgyu. He almost kicked me off a cliff, I’m not overexaggerating, I swear.”
That’s not true. Yeonjun should be the one who needs to feel lucky because not only didn’t Beomgyu leave him on some random sidewalks, he personally called Taehyun to bring him extra clothes and had an Uber to get them three back home before midnight. He knows Beomgyu is too utterly soft for him to murder him in his sleep anyway.
You smile at him before waving the waiter boy over to punch in your order. “Choi Yeonjun, it’s fine, really. You’re so much fun to hang around. But next time, no more beer for you, get it ?” Upon your teasing, he lets out a nervous chuckle. And little did you know, he’s planning on telling you something much, much more horrendous. “And how many times do I need to tell you that Jisung is not my boyfriend ?”
“Just not yet.” He corrects you, and you’re stuck between the ideas of strangling Han Jisung and throwing Choi Yeonjun off a cliff. Or maybe both. “You guys caused quite the scene during lunch break. You two bickered like an old married couple. Not to mention, you’ve probably ended up on everyone’s social medial by now.”
Your eyes widen in terror. A tape of you, and Han Jisung yelling at each other at the top of your lungs is on the Internet. Since a young age, you’ve come to realize that nothing on the internet ever really goes away. And that thought scares you shitless. Great, now everyone will think of you two as that one loud couple who always argue over stupid things. “I’m so fucking screwed— give me a sec, someone’s texting me.”
[ 4:12 pm ]
han | where are you ?
y/n | why would that matter ?
han | you’re on a date right ? with him.
y/n | han jisung are you watching me ? wtf you creep !?
[ 4:13pm ]
han | do you like him ?
han | just answer me honestly for once.
y/n | so you ARE jealous. hah, busted.
But wait, why would he be jealous ? That makes no sense.
[ 4:14pm ]
han | so what if i’m jealous ?
Your heart stops as a small ‘huh?’ escapes your lips. Yeonjun looks at you with a confused expression, almost develops a mild interest in what made you so flustered. But he guessed it either way because it’s too obvious who’s the only person that has this kind of effect on you.
han | i was the one who asked you out first, it’s not fair !
y/n | ...
y/n | hey, are you drunk ?
[ 4:15pm ]
han | i’m as sober as i can be, enjoy your pretty little date y/n.
When everything’s already a mess, when you’re at a loss for words, Hyunjin’s abrupt call is something else more than just fuel to the fire. “Y/N ! Have you seen Jisung ?” Your roommate sounds alarmed on the other end and your stomach automatically twists into a knot.
“No, I haven’t seen him since lunch… why ?” The uneasy feeling has been ghosting your gut since you received the questionable texts from Jisung, and you’re afraid to hear what Hyunjin’s gonna say next. “What’s wrong ? What happened to him ?” You bombard him with questions after questions, fiddling your fingers nervously in fear.
Yeonjun quickly senses something’s off and reaches his hand outwards. He places his hand over yours gently, rubbing little circles to remind you to calm down. There are a thousand bad scenarios running through your mind like lightning of what could have happened to Jisung. What if he’s about to do something stupid ? What if he’s hurting, and no one ever asked ? What if… it’s all because of you ?
“Hyunjin, just fucking answer me !” You almost snapped, finding the silence on the other line extremely disturbing.
He replies breathlessly, as if he’s already given up. “He’s gone.”
“What do you mean he’s gone ?” You can’t believe your own ears at this point.
Hyunjin sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. “Changbin said he hadn’t been home when his shift was supposed to end at 3. Chan said he wasn’t on campus either, nor the band room. We’ve checked everywhere, not his house, not the usual boba place, not even his favorite get-away spots. He ran away, Y/N, no one knows why. And I’m scared..” Your heart instantly drops to the pit of your stomach.
Not even his favorite get-away spots.. We’ve checked everywhere.
But Jisung would never tell them about all of his get-away spots.
eight.
Jisung unlocks his phone and sees several missed calls from his group of friends along with endless texts but his eyes only linger on some particular ones.
[ 7:23pm ]
y/n | can we just talk this out ?
y/n | this is so fucking childish of you.
y/n | I don’t care if you want to kick me out of your life.
y/n | I’m coming for you.
Jisung doesn’t know whether he should be crying or laughing. Basically, he’s emotionally restrained.
Because apparently, life is preposterous. One moment you’re laughing while being pissed off when he annoys the heck out of you. Then later you would ditch him to have yourself wrapped around another guy’s arms. Hours ago, you were on the edge of pushing his limits into the unknown and now you’re being all concerned and worried about him. He feels mildly exasperated partially because you’re playing with his heart, and partially because he allows you to do that.
He has been watching you from behind all this time. He always has so much on his mind that keeps him awake at nights but never really knows how to convey his feelings for you into words. Maybe that’s why J.One can only write love songs in vain. So being the genius person that he is, he thought ( and still think ) that the only way to approach you was to make fun of you. He can only call you questionable nicknames all day because he doesn’t have the heart to actually call you ‘babe’ in a genuine way. He would always end up spitting out something less than appropriate or stick his nose into your business because he can never fathom the courage to say a simple ‘I love you’. Yes, Jisung knows that he’s a coward for making such excuses but the thought of putting his heart into someone else’s hand scares him shitless. Not that he has never gone through a heartbreak before but the scars never really go away.
Honestly, Jisung has never thought that he would end up liking you this much. He still vividly remembers the day that you two met for the first time. It was freshman year highschool, he got signed up for a role in the drama club at the time being thanks to Hyunjin and suddenly he saw you sitting alone in a corner, struggling over a piece of prop for the set.
Even when it’s the awkward phase, you took his breath right away like ‘whoosh’, leaving him utterly speechless when your eyes collide. From then on, you’re the ‘nothing’ that people ask him about whenever he looks like he’s spacing out. You’re the only thing that keeps lingering in his mind, impossible to forget. He finally understands why people are always so giddy about their crush because once you like someone, everything changes. Like how your smile seems to be even brighter than the Sun, how your goofy laugh feels like music to his ears, or how every little thing that you do affects him way too damn much. Woah, he understands why his group of friends said that he’s so whipped for you now.
Jisung doesn’t know what to think or what to feel anymore. He really doesn’t. He hates how you keep switching between ‘the Y/N who hates Jisung with passion’ and ‘the Y/N who genuinely worries about Jisung’. It drives him nuts not knowing how you really feel about him. Jisung swipes his index finger upwards and presses the ‘Airplane Mode’ button from the Control Center settings. He can’t afford having Chan or Minho screaming directly at his ears after when he ran away like that. Maybe he is childish after all.
“Han Jisung !”
Jisung snaps his head backwards to find you standing there, disheveled hair, hands supporting on your knees with a glint of fierceness in your eyes. With the dim source of light from the Moon, you’re glowing under all of the sentimental glory that leaves him completely flustered. He’s really predictable, he thinks. Of course you’d know that he would end up choosing the park where he used to hang out with Seungmin since kindergarten. It’s also where he bawled his eyes out after his first breakup, having you rub little circles on his back and tell him that everything’s gonna be alright.
“What are you doing here ?” He asks soullessly although his heart his yelling at him to fall into your embrace.
“I told you, didn’t I ?” You say, breaths growing more even by the seconds. “I’m coming for you, I don’t care if you’re gonna kick me out of your life because I’m not allowing that.”
Jisung snickers, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “You rain-checked on Choi Yeonjun just like that ? Aren’t you afraid that he’s gonna break up with you tomorrow after finding you that you’re rummaging through the entire city to look for me, an absolute bastard who never leaves well enough alone ?”
You shoot him a stern look, brows slightly furrowed. “You didn’t let me finish, how rude. I’m trying to prove a point, don’t you see ? If I really didn’t give two fucks about you then why would I be here ? If I was really dating Choi Yeonjun then I could have just stayed at home and cuddled with him until Hyunjin kicked him out of our apartment. It’s been almost three hours, Jisung. Three fucking hours. I was running from place to place like a psychopath, got lost on some random streets, just to find you. Yes, just for you.”
He squints his eyes at you skeptically. “And your point is ?”
“I care about you.” You don’t even need to consider anything at this point and that has Jisung’s jaw dropped to the ground. “I could never hate you, even if I do, I can’t hate you for the rest of my life for my own good. Even when you call me ‘little cub’ fifty times a day, even when you make me pay for your ride, even when we almost threw hands at each other during lunch break, my feelings for you never change. Not even one bit.” You state confidently, taking long strides towards him.
Jisung looks at you with a blank expression, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know Y/N. You’re a fucking hot mess. For all I know, you second-guessed most of your decisions in life. What if you decided to pull—“ That’s it, you’re not enduring his ‘what if’-s bullshit any longer.
Without a word, you grab Jisung by the collar and pull him flush against you. When your lips collide with his, it feels like you’re being sent to the Moon and back continuously. Sparks of joy, lust, and mixed emotions ignite inside his heart when you trace your tongue over his then it explodes like a firework that lights up the eerie darkness effortlessly. Jisung slowly gives in and melts into the kiss, his hands snaking around your waist to hold you closer, feeling your warmth radiating off on his flannels. You’re the first one to pull away, hands trailing behind the nape of his neck. “I can say that giving away my first kiss is enough to prove that the only thing I’ve never second-guessed was liking you.” You say breathlessly, trying to ignore the rouge on your cheeks.
“I am your first kiss ?” He widens his eyes slightly.
You scoff at him while trying to act casual. “Be grateful at least you brat.” Jisung chuckles softly at you, slightly taken aback at your bold action as the feeling of your lips on his chills him to the bones. “Point taken.” At that moment, you quickly realize how his warm brown eyes hold their own galaxy with the stars shining so brightly that makes your heart swell. At that moment, you also realize that Jisung is your Sun because his smile alone can light up the whole celestial sphere. Meanwhile you’re his Moon because no matter what happens, you’ll always be here to brighten him up on the darkest of days.
And you both know that as long as you have each other, you will forever be radiant.
#stayshub#stray kids ot9#stray kids scenarios#stray kids au#han fic#stray kids fanfic#stay#han jisung#bang chan#seo changbin#lee minho#hwang hyunjin#kim seungmin#lee felix#kim woojin#yang jeongin#han jisung fanfic#han jisung fluff#skzinc#skz jisung#jypnation#txt#choi yeonjun#college au
934 notes
·
View notes
Text
She-Ra HvZ AU
So, years back, in college, I used to play Humans vs Zombies (think tag with nerf guns and incredibly problematic for other reasons). Twice a year, we’d get a few hundred people together on campus to play this week long game. It would start with one zombie, and that would escalate quickly to dozens as the hunting began. Humans can ‘stun’ a zombie for five minutes by hitting them with a nerf dart or a balled up CLEAN sock. Zombies infect humans by tagging them. We played in between classes, all over campus, but indoors was safe as well as *most* dorms.
So here we go:
Adora - that one human who gets *way* too into the game - she has holsters for all her blasters, extra darts for any human who asks, and she’s the one all the freshman call when they’re stuck in a building surrounded by a group of zombies. She doesn’t get turned until extraction (the last day of the game) when she sacrifices herself to get others to the safe zone. She dies by Catra.
Catra - Lead Zombie, patient zero, she initially joined to fuck with Adora, but enjoys leading hordes of zombies way too much, she even gets Scorpia to do zombie make-up on her face. She maintains the consistent record of highest kill count by a *wide* margin.
Glimmer - that one human who doesn’t use any nerf blasters - just balled up socks. She is considered a ninja by all the zombies - no one knows how she gets from building to building on campus when every door is guarded by the horde and the buildings have no indoor connections. She only gets turned bc Bow does and she gets fed up having to spend all her time with him indoors and wants to actually hang out for real.
Bow - Only uses the nerf bow & arrows - even though they are shit, but he is inexplicably good with them - like way faster at reloading than even most automatic nerf guns. Despite it being moderately illegal according to the games rules, he builds his own nerf arrows that are varyingly effective. He gets turned when one of them doesn’t quite work out and everyone isn’t quite sure if the shower of nerf darts actually hits the zombie. He agrees to be turned because he doesn’t want to argue/ruin the zombie’s day.
Perfuma - Med Zombie, she gets turned on the first night so that she can bring her first aid kit to anyone playing who gets hurt. “You can stun me but let me see that injury.” Will mom you. She also has a stock of water and vegan food bars. During missions, she is an absolute terror who will hunt down every human she can. Has the second highest kill count, besides Catra, despite not hunting any other time.
Sea Hawk - banned from playing after the one time he broke a window and nearly set a dorm on fire (based on a true story, we had to pay for the damages).
Mermista - “what’s the point in playing if you aren’t going to brazenly walk across campus” is her moto. She has not been turned once while doing so, even during the middle of the day which is peak hunting hours.
Frosta - no chill, she runs straight at any zombie she sees and - since most zombies are expecting to do the hunting and not be hunted - she terrifies the entire horde. Has started challenging individual zombies to “thunderdome” (she gets one dart in her blaster vs one zombie). She wins several of these matches, and only gets taken down when Catra agrees to duel her.
Entrapta - spends most of the game building ridiculously modded nerf guns - half of them are high powered automatic blasters and the others are ridiculously small blasters that can fit in a pocket. She almost never gets turned because she hyperfocuses on building cool guns for the entire game and only shows up for extraction on the final day. All the zombies fear her inventions and are forced to let her into extraction without a fight lest they *all* be stunned and can’t hunt any other humans while they wait to respawn.
Scorpia - is terrible with nerf guns (even when Entrapta gives her one of the ‘mega’ guns that are bigger and easier to handle) but loves playing as a zombie - she gives hugs to anyone who is turned and immediately welcomes them into the horde (especially new players who are often upset that they get turned so early). Low kill count for zombies, but she doesn’t care.
Huntara - Sports jock who’s part of a frat and gets ‘hazed’ into joining the game as a freshmen. Years later, she’s still playing because she gets super into playing as a zombie and because she can outrun almost any human she finds. She generally maintains the third highest kill count but she can’t play in every game because her sports schedule is too demanding.
Micah - Resident Advisor & professor but gets super into the game and being all ‘tactical’ with nerf guns. Usually gets turned pretty quickly (See below) but also enjoys hanging out with all of his students as a zombie too. He progressively shows up later to his own classes that he teaches and spends the first ten minutes trying to convince his students to play the game. Everyone loves him and he’s also the faculty sponsor for the club. Regularly brings pizza and other foods to the missions so all the students can eat something.
Angella - Also a Resident Advisor who routinely puts a hit out on Micah so he’ll stop playing the game and come help her with groceries and the other chores he hasn’t done because he’s been too focused on the game (Also based on a true story).
Double Trouble - Mod who’s tasked with ‘keeping the balance’ (i.e. making sure there’s enough humans to make the missions and game fun, but not too few zombies that they feel left out and can’t tag anyone). When the balance is off, they orchestrate elaborate plans to make sure there’s an additional confrontation or two between humans and zombies so that everyone ends up having fun and the zombie numbers get to grow a little. They love their job, but almost no one knows that they are a mod bc they hardly play in person.
Lonnie, Rogellio, and Kyle - The Mod team. They’re almost never seen playing (similar to DT) because they’re locked in a library cubicle answering emails all day about “where do I go to sign up?” and “Can I still play if I sign up late?” When not answering emails, players often hang out nearby just to chill with them. (Also true, I did this for two years and never left the cubicle except to go to classes).
Netossa and Spineralla - the grad students who still play. They’re the pair who you call when you need help getting anywhere (especially off campus and especially late at night). Not the best at surviving, but everyone knows and looks up to them because they’ve been playing for years. They also have a car and regularly use it to drive supplies to and from missions to help out the mod team.
Hordak - disgruntled grad student who posts online about how terrible the game is and how the players are so loud and obnoxious but he’s secretly mad that no one in his program will play the game with him. Except…
Wrong Hordak - younger sibling to Hordak who’s still in undergrad and just wants to hang out with their older brother. “Hello Zombies, let us bask in the glory of Zombie Prime”. The horde doesn’t need a mega phone because they have WH.
Shadow Weaver - Buzzkill Admin. Hates the game and is always trying to find ways to shut it down for minor infractions The Mod Team technically reports to her but they all ignore her emails and just send them to Angella and Micah instead.
Additional note: Bow, Frosta, and Mermista have each camped out in a campus building overnight (dodging security) in order to avoid having to fight the zombies to get out. Frosta and Mermista, because they have no chill (and Mermista cares about not being turned *way* too much). And Bow because Glimmer was trying to sick the horde on him one time despite not being a zombie herself.
@ohgodthepink thank you for coming down this rabbit hole with me
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Confessions // Chapter Two
Choi YoungjaexReader
Based on a serial killer and his documentary
Words: 1.7K
Warnings: Smut, language, blood and, eventually details surrounding the murders.
A/N: I hope you guys have been enjoying it! I’m soooo excited for everything to start unfolding for Youngjae!
Chapter One // Chapter Three
"How are you?" You asked, taking a seat right across from your boyfriend who immediately grabbed your face and planted his lips on yours. When you got the call the day after court that you were able to visit Youngjae, you let him mother go first, letting her spend time with him. Jinyoung, without saying anything to you about it, was already waiting for Mrs. Choi to leave in the waiting area. You let him go first, smiling at him as you waited for a bit longer, fiddling with your fingers.
"No touching!" The guard yelled, the couple other visitors looking at the two of you as Youngjae let you go.
"I could be better, I'm alone in the cell because they're afraid I can kill a roommate." Youngjae clasped his hands on the table, your hands gently rubbing his arm before pulling back quickly, not wanting to get yelled at again.
"Baby, the media is on your side. They agree that you didn't do it," You whispered, Youngjae sighing.
"I don't care, all I need is you to believe that I'm innocent-"
"I do, baby! Of course, I do!" You held Youngjae's face in your hands, flinching at the yell from the guard to not touch him, pulling your hands back.
"Fuck, I can't even hold your hand," Youngjae murmured, glaring at the guard.
Youngjae never had a temper, he always stayed calm and collected. But when he was mad about something involving you, he couldn't help but let his temper get the best of him. He never hit anyone, but he has raised his voice at people who openly flirt with you or have tried to touch you.
"You'll be out here soon, then you can hold my hand all you want." You assured him, giving him a comforting smile.
"I'm going to lock you up in our bedroom and I'm not letting you leave for days," Youngjae winked, making you laugh.
"Has Youngjae ever made you think he was capable of doing something this gruesome?"
Mrs. Choi and you decided to hire a more appropriate lawyer. Jinyoung having stated that maybe, worst-case scenario, Mr. Wang could pin something else on him and only a better lawyer could be of better help. So you agreed.
"No, he never has," You assured the man sitting behind his desk who was looking over the very thin file. He nodded, furrowing his eyebrows at reading the short report
"And there was only this previous case which he was found innocent... This should be a fairly easy case," With a smile, Mr. Tuan stood up and shook your hand then Mrs. Choi. "In just a few short days, Mr. Choi should be a free man,"
"Are you sure he can prove I'm innocent?" Youngjae asked, leaning toward you, a smile playing on his lips. "I can go home soon?"
"Yeah, can you believe that?" You grinned, reaching forward to almost holding his hands before you pulled back, biting your lip.
Youngjae pressed his tongue to his cheek, looking over at the security guard, double making sure the room was empty before nodding at your bag. "How much money do you have?"
Taking out your wallet, you let Youngjae pull out a twenty, catching the guard's attention. "How long do we have in exchange for this?" The guard scoffed, giving Youngjae a smirk. He walked over, taking the bill and pocketing it.
"Ten minutes," Without another word, Youngjae scooted closer to you, pulling your face to his and kissing you. You returned the kiss, humming softly as he gently moved his lips against yours, pulling back slightly to hold you to him.
"I promise I'm going to get out of here, we'll finish school, get married, move somewhere else and live happily ever after," Youngjae kissed your cheek, moving down to your jaw only to gently nip it, giving you another kiss.
You sat on the couch with Jinyoung next to you, the two of you silent as you both ate, a movie playing on the TV.
"I was talking to Jae about you," Jinyoung spoke up, making you look up at him. "He asked me that, if in case this goes wrong, to stay here and take care of you," You stopped eating, eyes still on Jinyoung as he watched you. "I don't want anything between us to be awkward-"
"It won't," You injected, looking down at your food.
"You didn't tell him," Jinyoung whispered, setting his food down.
"There was nothing to tell him," You cut Jinyoung off again, setting your food down.
"Sweetheart-"
"Nothing happened, Jinyoung!" You exclaimed, standing from your spot and going to your bedroom, closing the door.
"I hope you brought me something worth more than just some fingerprints." The judge looked over at Mr. Wang, the lawyer standing and buttoning his suit blazer.
"Your honor, we have security footage from the campus of one of the kidnappings. If I can ask for everyone's attention to the television," You furrowed your eyebrows at the large TV, everyone silent as the video began to load, finally playing.
It was a series of clips, following a girl with only one earbud in. Her phone was in her sweater pocket, holding her bag tightly before in the last frame, a figure pulled her beside a building. The video was sped through, nothing on the scene changing until the same figure dragged the body out, leaving her out on the street. He rummaged through her bag, pulling out useless papers until tossing it aside. Finally, the figure pulled it's hood down, hands fixing their hair before disappearing out of the frame.
"I had the video sent to a specialist, one known to get a physical reading on the body, so I would like to call my first witness,"
You turned your head to an older man who stood up, being sworn in as he took his seat on the elevated platform, speaking his name aloud for the court.
"By the view of this video, what can you tell me about the murder's physical appearance?" Jackson asked the man, letting him speak.
"We're looking at a male, around five foot ten, no more than six feet and who looks roughly around 140 pounds. He's built, exercises, not frequently but enough to build muscles and to be able to carry heavy objects. My guess is if he works, it's loading heavy objects or uses his strength frequently. As seen on the video, he has long hair, it's held back by a hair tie and what looks like a sweatband, though the hair color can't be told by how dark it is. To me, it seems he knows the area, he didn't hesitate on tossing the body out."
You stared in horror at the man, Jackson looking proud as he thanked him, letting him leave. Youngjae was called upon the stand, taking a seat.
"Mr. Choi, how tall are you?" Jackson asked, looking through his file.
"About 5'10," Youngjae answered, looking at his lawyer.
"And how much do you weight?" Jackson continued, finally looking up at Youngjae who gulped.
"132 pounds," Youngjae felt nervous, hands shaking and sweating.
"Do you work?"
"I used to work by loading furniture in moving vans, I quit a few months ago became a bartender now," Youngjae stayed silent as the lawyer paced the floor, dropping the file on the table.
"Her name was Soojung, she was 21, barely a medical student. She wanted to be a doctor, wanted to find a cure for leukemia. Her younger brother died at the age of eight from it,"
Youngjae stared at Jackson, gritting his teeth. "I don't think it's fair that those parents had to bury both of their children in less than five years, do you?"
"Your honor-"
"I'm done," Jackson interrupted Mark, the two glaring at each other.
The court went on discussing the whereabouts of Youngjae that night when Mark stood up, showing the jury and the judge a detailed sheet.
"I have here my client's pay stubs, along with his days of work, what time he clocked in, out and went to lunch." Mark set the paper in front of the jury all of them going through it.
"My client was once trailed for a murder he didn't commit. All because he was at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Now, suddenly because the description matches, and one lunch matches with this murder, suddenly he's being pinned again?
"And I know, it does sound off that I just said that this lunch matches this murder. But," Mark took out a receipt, showing it to the jury. "Mr. Choi bought lunch and the receipt was printed minutes before the murder. Unless my client can go from point A to point B in a matter of three minutes, when it's a ten-minute walk, then yes, he is the murderer."
Youngjae let out a sigh, smiling at Mark as he sat back down.
Jackson inwardly cursed, looking through his files again. "Mr. Wang... You're slipping." The judge warned, making Jackson nod.
"Court will continue in three days,"
With the loud hit, Youngjae turned around, looking at you and looking at Jinyoung, sitting right behind you. "Let Jinyoung stay with you. I know my mom isn't staying with you so please, let him stay so you're not alone,"
You hesitated, nodding before leaning in, kissing him. "I love you," You whispered, Youngjae getting pulled back.
"I love you too," He smiled at you, walking with the officer. You pulled back, standing up straight and watching as Youngjae was taken back. You let out a silent sigh, walking back with Jinyoung as he calmly walked by your side, avoiding the reporters that wanted to speak with you.
"You know he's going to come out fine, this is just a little setback." Jinyoung opened the passenger door for you, letting you get in his car as he got in the driver's side.
"I know Jinyoung... it's just hard. I want to know why him, of all people, why him?" You buckled yourself up, letting your head fall back onto the headrest.
Jinyoung looked at you sadly, shrugging his shoulder. "I don't know... I don't know," He softly reached for your hand, letting you rest your forehead on his shoulder to cry.
#thank you for reading!#got7 angst#choi youngjae angst#youngjae angst#kpop angst#got7 fic#choi youngjae fic#youngjae fic#kpop fic#got7 scenario#choi youngjae scenario#youngjae scenario#kpop scenario#got7 smut#choi youngjae smut#youngjae smut#kpop smut#got7 x reader#choi youngjae x reader#youngjae x reader
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
devoted.
Jung Jaehyun || yandere!au(ish?), thriller(???), smut (im sure about this one lol), cursing, some pretty dark shit is under that keep reading line
word count: 9k
devoted masterlist
T R I G G E R W A R N I N G.
A/N: i usually make a sideblog for scenarios and imagines but i cant commit to writing often //sighs at exo and svt fic blogs// so i’d rather post it on my main tumblr than on my AFF account which is strictly for memberxmember only (author name is on the gif lmao i got too lazy to edit it to my tumblr url) so here’s some jaehyun smut for all his hoes, me included.
P.S. this is based off my dream the other night and i deadass almost had a panic attack from it
As a boyfriend, Jaehyun was… devoted.
It was a mutual decision; a decision he had voiced out first, but later on deeply regrets.
Jung Jaehyun meant well when he had asked to take a break from your relationship because the final months of university was harder than both of you thought. You simply had no time for each other, especially since you come from two very different courses.
It’s been almost 4 years since you two began dating, thanks to that one Gen Ed subject you miraculously shared together during freshman year. If he hadn’t been late and ended up sitting beside you, neither of you would have crossed paths again.
Jaehyun loves you, he was completely smitten that day you had accidentally swung your head to him a little too strongly and caused your hair to whiplash against his face when all he asked was for the professor’s name to put on his forms.
And you love him, ever since he had flashed his signature dimpled smile, chuckling away your apologies for having smacked his face with your hair.
From pair works in class that turned to study sessions at the library, that turned to spending breaks together at the quad, that turned to dinner dates at the nearest pizzeria, and by then all of your friends can tell that you and Jaehyun weren’t just friendly classmates anymore.
As a boyfriend, Jaehyun was… devoted. He doted you; he made sure he showed how much he loves you every second that he can. It was cute at first, until you got used to it. It had never been a bother or a burden, no matter how many times your friends would point out it was starting to be creepy. But you always shrugged them off, saying it’s simply how Jaehyun was.
First week
“You and Jae?” Ten repeats, “Are taking a break from each other?” He scoffs and nudges Doyoung, “Are you hearing this?”
“Wait, I must have something in my ears.” Doyoung sticks a finger into each ear and pretends to clean them, “Okay, can you repeat that again, (Y/N)?”
You roll your eyes at them and Yebin throws her used tissues at the boys, “Ignore them, (Y/N.) But I’m just as surprised as they are. Are you and Jaehyun really taking a break?”
“Taking a break, in our definition, is not expecting dates every other night, texting or calling during breaks, you know, the usual things we do. And if by some miracle, we bump into each other, we’d just, smile, I guess.”
“Oh thank fuck, no more kissing like you haven’t seen each other in years.” Doyoung groans, only to screech when Yebin kicks his shin under the table.
“I bet you won’t last halfway the semester. Give or take a month?” Ten shrugs his shoulders.
Doyoung snorts, “I bet you won’t last a week.”
“It was his idea and we both agreed to it. We’re graduating soon and we both promised to do our absolute best for the last semester, so we’re getting rid of distractions.”
Ten hums, “It’s just unlike him to suggest it.”
You pout at him, “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“He worships the ground you walk on.” Doyoung says in a tone like it was the most obvious thing that existed. “He worships you.”
“He’s just affectionate.” The bell rings, “And we’ll be late for class.” You stand up from your seat and they follow suit.
Third week
It took a while for you to get adjusted to the fact you’re on a break with Jaehyun. There were plenty of times you had to stop yourself from texting him to ask how he was or if he’s up to eat out together. When there was a knock on your apartment door, you had imagined it was him and not the food delivery you forgot about.
One fateful Friday, none of your subjects had given out homeworks to slave on during the weekend and Yebin had demanded for a mandatory and much needed girl’s night out at the new bar outside of campus. You were fine with the idea, until one of your friends, Minkyung, had took it upon herself to dress you up.
“No.” You automatically told her the second her hand reached for the last dress on the rack in your closet. It was probably the shortest dress you had owned. Despite its sweetheart neckline and flowy cloth, the A-line dress was cut off just above your thighs. It wasn’t the best dress to wear on windy days, to say the least. “That’s too short.”
“It’s cute and sexy!”
“But Jae–”
Minkyung cuts you off with a snap, “Last time I checked, you and Jaehyun are currently on break. Let your legs and ass breathe while they can. You’ve kept your best assets in pants or baggy shorts because Jaehyun doesn’t like it when guys ogle them.”
“Uhm, I don’t like being ogled by other guys, too.” You weakly shot back but she had already forced the dress on you and pushed you to the bathroom.
It didn’t take long for the three of you to get ready and hop into a cab that took you to the bar Yebin had not shut up about days prior from tonight. It was the typical bar set up, with booths surrounding the dance floor with 3 bartenders manning the bar and serving up cocktails one after the other.
Minkyung was fast enough to secure a booth for the three of you and you slip inside while Yebin ordered some drinks.
You realize that it’s been a long time since you were able to go out with them like this. You had always spent your free time with Jaehyun and although you missed him, this was a nice change, too.
Halfway through the night and six margaritas and 3 shots of tequila later, Minkyung and Yebin had coaxed you onto the dance floor. Intoxicated, you sway your body to the beat, laughing and singing along with your girls. You abruptly stop when a hand glides down from your waist to your hips.
“Excuse me, but I have a boyfriend.” You slurred a bit, but stood your ground to glare at the boy that felt you up.
“Really? Where is he then? Hm?”
You size him up quickly, he was shorter than Jaehyun but had Johnny’s built.
“It’s called a girl’s night out, jackass, so fuck off.” Yebin pulls you away but he grabs your arm and you cry in pain.
“I wasn’t talking to you, short stuff.” He hisses at Yebin, who responds with a harsh stomp on his foot.
Minkyung and Yebin whisks you away from him while he cusses at her.
“Are you okay? God, some guys are just jerks.” Minkyung snarls, pulling you into a hug.
“I’m fine. I’m sorry for spoiling our night out.” You reassured her.
“You didn’t spoil it, babe. That jackass did. Besides, we’ve had one too many to drink, we should head on home.” Yebin pulls out her phone and books an Uber for the three of you.
Hangovers are the worst. Usually, Jaehyun would have prepared you some painkillers and a decent breakfast, but today, you and your roommates ate cereal in front of the television with the volume down low.
“I feel like shit. Are we too old to enjoy getting wasted already? Shit!” Yebin cries, clutching her head with one hand while jamming a spoonful of soggy cornflakes into her mouth.
“Someone ask somebody to bring us painkillers. My head is killing me.” Minkyung whines, rubbing her temples.
You grab your phone and to text Doyoung, who instantly replied with his dismay of your state but will still bring over some painkillers.
The television suddenly sounds an alarm, making all three of you groan and cover your ears.
“Breaking News from Seoul Central University. Finance student, Kim Iljung, 22, was found beaten up outside a bar on the outskirts of the campus. The victim reported that he was ambushed from behind with a bat and was not able to see his assailant.”
“(Y/N), isn’t that the guy that felt you up?” Minkyung points out and you look at the ID photo the news report flashed.
“Oh shit, yeah. Oh my god.” You gasp as the reporter described the injuries the boy had sustained.
“Kim claims that he does not know who did this and the reason behind it. He is currently recovering in the campus hospital and is working with the campus police to catch his assailant.”
“Serves him right for molesting (Y/N)! Karma’s a bitch.” Yebin says, drinking the leftover milk from her bowl.
“Karma or not, it’s scary. To be randomly assaulted like that? What if one of us were in his place?” You visibly shuddered. “I mean, who could do something like that?”
Ninth week
You’ll be having your period soon.
You know this because on top of craving all sorts of food twentyfour-seven and experiencing drastic mood swings to your friend’s unfortunate luck, you had to deal with a need that Jaehyun knew all too well to handle. But you haven’t contacted him as part of the conditions of taking a break which only meant you had to take care of yourself.
It was half past midnight when you were sure your roommates were in deep sleep in their respective rooms that you decided to lock your room and raise the volume of the music you usually played at night just a tad louder in case you got a little too vocal.
You haven’t touched yourself in a long time. And even if you had, it was under the predatory gaze of your boyfriend.
Play with yourself. He’d command and you would automatically open your legs and obey.
Everything felt tentative and unsure while your hands ran up and down your naked body. Your mind conjured up scenarios of all the times you and Jaehyun had fooled around and finally, your hand made its way to your core. Sighing, you circle your clit with the tip of your forefinger and shudder at the sensation.
You bite down your lower lip when you attempt to slip your finger inside you. After a few pumps, you slip in a second finger and a moan escapes you accompanied by your boyfriend’s name.
Yes, baby, that’s it. You could practically hear him whisper the words.
“Shit.” You remembered the last time you and Jaehyun masturbated with each other. Much like how you were lying down on your bed with your legs spread out and fingers knuckle-deep inside you, you imagined Jaehyun seated at the chair by your study table, with his large hand wrapped around his cock. You whimpered when you remembered how his eyes watched your fingers disappear inside you.
“A-ah.” You softly cry when you pump faster and harder, trying to match the speed and force Jaehyun had always used on you, but ultimately failed. You plant your feet on the mattress and lift your hips up when you finally feel yourself find the pleasure you’ve been craving for. “Jae.” You whine as your other hand squeezed one of your boobs.
There was a low groan that echoed into the room and for a split second you thought you had imagined it, but it sounded all too real and all too close for it to be a fragment of your imagination. You shoot up from the bed, your hands grabbing the sheets to cover your body as your eyes dart to the window to see a shadow move across it.
Fear seizes your heart, but you had to confront it. As quickly as you can, you run to your window and open it. Your dorm was on the second floor and if there was someone who had seen you, he was fast enough to go down the fire escape. But you shake it off, hoping it was nothing but your imagination.
You close the window before you can catch a cold, not noticing the gooey, white substance splattered on the window pane.
Sixteenth week
Finals were next week and you were at your wits end. You were neck deep in stress and you were desperate to release it. You were in no mood to drink and the girls had their own finals to study for. As you walked home late at night from the library, you stop in front of the university gymnasium.
It had been a while since you’ve went swimming.
You quit the team when you learned that Jaehyun quit the basketball team to make time for you.
The pool would have long been closed by now, but that’s not gonna stop you from sneaking in. You jumped the fence after checking no one was around and made your way to the building where the pool was.
The janitors always kept a spare key inside the emergency fire hose and with that, you successfully entered the indoor swimming pool.
The pool lights were left on as usual and you drop your bags to the side, your clothing following them soon after.
With only your matching red underwear, you slowly slip into the pool, half-moaning and half-whining at the cold water enveloping your body. When your body adapted to the coldness, you dive down and swim close to the tiled floor. From under the water, you look up and panicked when a blurred black mass stood at the side of the pool, causing you to resurface.
“Jesus Christ!” You gasp when you realized who it was. “Jaehyun!” You scolded, “You scared me!”
“Sorry.” He chuckles, lowly, pulling out one of his earbuds from his ear and letting it fall out from the hoodie of his jacket.
“How did you even know I was here?”
“I was out for a jog when I saw you jump the fence.” Once he said that, you noticed he was wearing his usual running clothes. There were a few beads of sweat sliding down his face and his breath was a little ragged. He squats down and offers you a half smile, “If anything, I should be asking you why you’re sneaking into the pool after closing time.”
You bite your lip and swim towards him. “The past weeks have been hard on me and I need to destress. Won’t you help me, Jae?”
His eyes darkened despite the pool lights shining in them. “I don’t think that’s how taking breaks from a relationship works, (Y/N).”
“We’ve made it this far, Jae. Can’t we cheat this break thing?”
“(Y/N)” He warns.
“Please, Jae. For me?” You unconsciously bat your lashes at him and he sighs.
“I don’t have my swimming trunks.”
You giggle at him, “If you haven’t noticed, I’m in my underwear.”
He watches you a little bit more and you thought he was hesitating, so you reach up and unzip his jacket for him. “Do you need help or are you going to let me play by myself?”
That made him smirk and he rises from the ground, discarding his jacket and peeling his shirt away.
Your mouth went dry at the sight of seeing his body again and it made you almost guilty to feel so sexually deprived for the past months. He pushes his running shorts down and reveals his boxers.
Your teeth bite down on your lips again when he kicks his shoes off and smirks at you before diving head first into the water. You swim backwards, trying to tease him as he swims to you from underneath. He resurfaces right in front of you the second your back hits the side of the pool.
Jaehyun wipes away the excess water off his face while you wrap your arms around his shoulders.
“Hi.” You whisper, laughing when he flashes you a smile as you helped pushed his wet hair back.
“Hi.” He breathes, grabbing onto your thighs and guiding your legs around him. “So you needed to destress?”
You nod your head, sliding the hand that pushed his hair back down the side of his face. “How are you gonna help me?”
He pulls your hips closer and grinds his erection against your clothed sex, eliciting a silent gasp from you. “I can think of a few things.”
“C-care to show me?” You stuttered, unable to say anything else as Jaehyun continues to gyrate his hips into you.
For the first time in months, you kissed each other.
The open kiss was messy and sloppy, and it was desperate, needy, and hungry. You clawed his bare back, looking for support as you slid down his body. In response, he pushes you against the side of the pool, the corner biting into your back had hurt but you couldn’t care less. His tongue had invaded your mouth, stroking your own as one of his hands roughly grab your breasts, pushing above the water’s surface.
You throw your head back, resting it against the poolside as Jaehyun clumsily thumbs your hardened nipple and trails a sloppy kiss from your cheek, to your jaw, and stopped short on the side of your neck.
Just as you slowly lose yourself with Jaehyun’s actions, a high pitched whistle hurls you back to reality.
“Shame on you two, fucking in a public pool.” Deep laughter follows afterwards.
Your eyes snap to the entrance where a group of boys watched in amusement. Humiliated, you hide yourself using Jaehyun’s body who shielded you nonetheless.
“Do you mind?” He snaps at them, defensively putting his arms around you.
“Yeah, man, we do mind.” One of them hollers, “We wanted to swim in sperm-free water.”
You flinch when they laugh once more, “Jae, let’s just go.”
He doesn’t react immediately; dark eyes glaring straight to the space behind you. His breathing had slowed and became heavy.
“Jaehyun,” You cup his cheek and make him face you, “Baby, let’s just go.”
It takes him another second to react. He closes his eyes and kisses your forehead. “Okay.”
The guys didn’t pay attention to either of you anymore as they jumped into the far end of the pool. Jaehyun helped you get out of the pool and instinctively, he checked on the guys as he got out after you. Just as he expected, one of them was checking you out while you bent over to grab your things.
“Hey!” He shouts, “I’d appreciate it if you stopped checking my girlfriend out.”
“Can’t help it, man. No wonder you can’t keep your hands off of her.” You see him look at you once more in an overly appreciative manner that made you shudder. On the corner of your eye, you can see Jaehyun tense up and ball his fists. “Jaehyun, leave him alone. It’s not worth our time, come on.”
“Do her real good, man!”
It took all your strength to hold Jaehyun down before he can even properly react. “Baby, please, I just want to go home.” You almost begged him and he finally relented.
Snatching your clothing up, both of you head for the locker rooms to dress before leaving the premises.
“Let me walk you home.” Jaehyun pulled you to his side after seeing you shiver.
After a while, he quietly says, “I’m sorry about those dickheads.”
“It’s not your fault. Maybe it’s the universe saying we shouldn’t be cheating on taking a break.” You huddled closer to him. “But I really miss you, Jae.”
“I miss you, too.” He plants a kiss on the top of your head. “We have a week left. I think we can hold out until then.”
“Until then? Hold out, what exactly?” You tease, spinning on your heels as you arrive to the doorstep of your apartment.
He leans down and kisses the spot between your jaw and your ear. “What could have happened back in the pool and so much more in the privacy of our homes.” His whisper was deep and low, tickling your ear and making you pull away with a short laugh.
“I can’t wait, then.” You let him kiss you on your lips. “Get home safely, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry for not helping you destress.” Jaehyun slightly pouts at you and you smile at him.
“I had this time with you.” You shrugged your shoulders, “It helped.”
“You can always play with yourself again.” He chuckles under his breath. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” And with one last kiss, he walks away.
You turn around and reach for the door, but realization hits you before you can turn the knob.
Did Jaehyun say… ‘again’?
Seventeenth week
You were finally through with exams and all you had to do now was wait for graduation. Jaehyun still had one last exam to finish in the afternoon, as Ten told you, so you guys, along with your roommates and Doyoung, decided to go to the mall.
When everyone grew tired of window shopping, Doyoung had suggested to head over to the arcade. Yebin had challenged Ten to breaking the high score on the basketball games while Minkyung had devoted herself into getting the large minnie mouse tsum tsum in the claw machine.
“Let’s play air hockey like old times!” You pulled Doyoung by his arm.
“Right! So I can beat you, like old times.” He laughs and avoids being shoved by you.
“We’ll see about that.”
He swipes the arcade card into the air hockey machine and the puck pops out in front of you. You place the puck onto the table and grip the striker.
“Are you ready to lose?”
“I should be asking you tha–hey! That’s not fair!” He yells when you make your turn and the puck goes straight into the goal.
“Whoops.” You feigned innocence. “If you’re so great, my leading point shouldn’t be a bother.”
Grumbling to himself, Doyoung places the puck back into the table and swings as hard as he could, making it bounce everywhere before you could block it and send it back to him. He had struck it too hard and made it hit the sides that ultimately led it straight into his goal.
“What the hell!” He complains and glares at you as you laughed out loud.
“That’s two points for me!” You cheer, preparing to block his next shot.
As the game continued, you couldn’t help but laugh at all the nonsense complains Doyoung kept stuttering out. Tears even made it to your eyes when he had made an effort to put all his weight into blocking the puck but he had missed it and stumbled away from the table.
“Are you sure you’re as good at this game as you say you are?” You jeered, peeking up at him through your lashes, but your eyes catch sight of someone else. “Jae?”
Doyoung cheers when the puck slips past you while you were distracted.
You eyes flutter down when the puck plops out of the bank by your legs but you ignore it and look back behind Doyoung. Jaehyun wasn’t there anymore.
“What’s wrong?” He stops his mini celebration and turns around, trying to look for what you were staring at.
“I just… I thought I saw Jaehyun.”
He whips his head back at you with a confused expression. “He should be taking an exam right now.” He glances down at his wristwatch. “Well, if he was fast, he could be done, but it would still take him some time to get here.”
“Right. I was just seeing things.”
After a few more minutes at the arcade, you head over to a fastfood chain across the arcade.
“To console you on your loss in our neck-to-neck air hockey match, I’ll buy you ice cream.” Doyoung wraps an arm around your shoulders, “Sound good?”
“Add in some fries and maybe, just maybe, I’ll be okay about losing.”
He exaggerates a sigh, “My best friend, using me for free food.” He lightly pinches your shoulder, “You’re lucky I love you or else–”
It happened so fast that you could barely register it into your mind.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh? Keeping her warm for me?”
The voice didn’t register at first, but the face that owned it did.
“Dude, what the hell?!” Doyoung scrambles onto his feet with Ten’s help.
Jaehyun steps forward but you block him. “Jae, what is wrong with you?”
“What is wrong with me? I finished my exam early and rushed here to see you, but I see him,” He juts his chin towards Doyoung, “With his arm around you.”
“What’s happening here?” A mall security guard approached your group.
“A misunderstanding, nothing we can’t handle ourselves. Sorry for the trouble.” You bow your head at him and grab Jaehyun’s arm. “Can we talk outside?”
He casts a glare at Doyoung before letting you pull him out. On the way to the exit, you recognized the same group of boys that chanced upon you and Jaehyun in the swimming pool from the previous week. You were ready to avoid their gazes, but they had seen you and immediately steered clear from you–and you didn’t fail to notice the fear in their expressions. Glancing up at Jaehyun, you could see the smug look on his face as he watches the group retreat.
You walk out into the parking lot and spin around to face him. “Do you want to explain yourself for what you did back there?”
Jaehyun frowns, “He had his arm around you.”
“I–Jae! He is Doyoung. Kim Doyoung. My best friend since pre-school. My best friend who is asexual. You know that!”
“He can’t be asexual forever. For all we know, he’s already got a crush on you!”
“Why are you being jealous of him? He’s my best friend and will always just be my best friend.”
“He just said he loves you!”
“And I love him back, as in, platonically, which I think is what he meant!” You groan in frustration. “You’re being ridiculous!”
Jaehyun scowls, “I’m being protective of my girlfriend!”
You suck in your lips and stare him down, “Your girlfriend that you’re technically on a break with.”
“What?” His body visibly tensed up.
“Maybe we should extend the break for a week or two.” You began to step back, but he follows you.
“What?” Jaehyun repeats, “Why?”
“Because, Jae,” You snap and he flinches at your tone, “I need time to get over what you just did inside to my best friend and you need time to contemplate over your actions and apologize to Doyoung.”
“(Y/N).” He whines.
“Jaehyun, please.” You cross your arms over your chest, defensively, and he stops in his tracks, looking at you with pleading eyes. You shake your head with regret and turn away, walking to the mall front.
He hadn’t followed you or tried to stop you, and you were thankful for that.
You take out your phone, book and Uber, and sent a text to Yebin, saying you’re heading home to rest, and then sent one to Doyoung, apologizing for Jaehyun’s actions and asked if he was okay.
Yebin replies with a kissy face emoji and a short message that she and Minkyung will bring home some dinner for you, to which you replied with a quick thank you.
Doyoung responds to your text a little while after, telling you that he’s fine; that nothing was broken or bleeding, and Jaehyun came back to check up on him and to apologize for punching him.
You close your phone as you see your Uber arriving and hop inside. Jaehyun had never reacted that way and it came as shock to you that he did. He was always that shy and nice kid that everyone was friends with. He was never assertive, but you knew it irked him when guys would so much give you excessive attention.
Seventeen weeks and three days
With classes over and practices for graduation rites starting in two weeks, you were left bored at home while Yebin and Minkyung had their exhibits and recitals to attend to. You woke up at noon and ate late lunch in front of the television, catching up on all the dramas you’ve missed for the sake of studying.
It pained you to watch some romantic scenes, if you were to be honest with yourself. It reminded you of Jaehyun and how he had acted a few days ago.
You learned from Ten, since he’s been seeing Jaehyun’s roommate, Johnny, that Jaehyun was either cooped up in his room or spending his hours at the gym.
The news didn’t make you feel any different. You missed him so much, but your pride wouldn’t allow you to give in. He had to apologize and admit his mistakes.
You fell asleep in the middle of a drama and was woken up by your cellphone ringing. The caller ID read Unknown, but you answer it either way.
“Hello?” You yawned. The other line was silent. Thinking there was a problem with the signal, you stand up and walk closer to the window. “Hello?” You repeat. “Who is this?”
As the line continued to remain silent, you decided to hang up.
The call was unsettling, but you shake it off and gasp to see that it was half past 8 already. You trudged to the kitchen, taking out some left overs from the fridge and pop it into the microwave. While waiting for it to heat up, you scroll through your SNS; liking pictures, watching random videos. You see Taeyong’s new profile pic that showed his newly bleached hair and you give it a heart eyes emoji react.
The microwave beeps and you close your phone to eat your dinner in silence.
As you cleaned up after your meal, you’re overcome with the sense of someone watching you. There was a palpable tension in the air and you convince yourself to look behind you. You regret not turning the lights on in the living room, leaving the open space dark and barely illuminated by the kitchen lights.
Your imagination went haywire, thinking how possible it was for someone to stand in the darkest corner and possibly staring you down, mocking how you can’t see them. But your eyes adjust to the darkness and you can map out the tall lamp shade Yebin’s mother had gifted you guys the day you moved in.
You let out an awkward, shaky laugh. “It’s all in your mind, (Y/N).”
Your phone rings, ripping through the silence and effectively made the tiny hairs all over your body stand up. “Motherfuck.” You hiss, clutching your heart as you take your phone from the counter.
It was an unknown number again.
“Hello?” You answer, a little too aggravated.
There was static on the other side and thinking the cell service was bad from the kitchen, you move to window and peek up into the cloudy sky. “Hello? This better not be a prank phone call.”
Instead of the silence you expected, you hear slow, heavy breathing.
“Hello? Who is this?” The clouds move and the moon shines the ground below. Your eyes drop to the street below and your chest tightens.
On the sidewalk that leads to your apartment building, there was a man dressed in a black hoodie, ripped jeans, and a black face mask covering half his face. He was looking up at your building, you weren’t so sure since his hoodie had casted a shadow over his eyes. But what caught your attention was his hand, holding up a phone to his ear.
You see his chest heave and at the same time, an exhale comes from the other line of your phone.
You drop your phone and stumble backwards as a scream erupts from your throat. You hear your roommates concerned shouts from outside the hall as they scramble to open the front door.
By the time they reach you, you were on the floor, shaking uncontrollably and crying from what you had seen.
Seventeen weeks and four days
Your landlady came to visit you and told you she had asked the campus police for extra security every night. They had also tried to trace the unknown number, but didn’t get any leads and guessed it came from a burner phone. Nevertheless, they reassured you that they’ll continue to investigate your case.
Minkyung and Yebin had slept beside you last night to comfort you, but the thought of having a stalker still haunted you.
You were still jittery and with your mind playing tricks on you, you grab your phone and head out.
“Hey, I heard from Ten what happened. Are you okay?” Johnny asks as he opens the door for you.
“More or less? Uhm…” You look inside the room as you toed off your shoes.
“He’s taking a shower. He actually planned to go to you, but I guess you beat him to it.” Johnny cocks his head to the small bouquet of flowers on the side table. “I’m meeting Ten for an early dinner.”
“Bye.” You quietly say as you watch him close the door behind him.
With soft steps, you make your way to Jaehyun’s room. It was tidy as it always was. You can hear him singing as the shower turned on and it makes you smile.
As you move to sit on the bed to wait for him, your eyes catch the black face mask on his table. “Has he been sick?” You frown to yourself, walking over to it. Upon closer inspection, you find an old-school phone beneath it. You dismissed it as a toy when you try to open it and consequently failed to do so.
Your eyes travel to the picture frame beside it. It was you, of course. You were with him to help him choose the picture he’d have printed and framed. You pick it up only to put it down as fast as you could when your fingers came into something sticky.
“Ugh, Jung Jaehyun!” You hiss, stretching your hand as far away as possible. You were disgusted, to say the least, but a part of you is flattered to know your boyfriend jacks off to you instead of some porno video or magazine. You walk to his laundry basket and grab the first thing you could and wiped your hands on it.
You feel bad for using one of his black hoodies to clean your hands but he’d understand. As you returned the dirty laundry back into the pile, you noticed the light washed denim jeans inside. There was an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach when you see that they were tattered. It’s a coincidence, you convince yourself, a horrible coincidence.
You throw the jacket back into the basket and walked over to the other side of the room to sanitize your hands with the bottle of rubbing alcohol liked to keep there. Your emotions have suddenly turned a complete 180 degrees; when you stepped inside the apartment, you felt safe and secured. But after running into items that looked so out of place and had triggered your memories of the past events the last weeks, you were uneasy.
The sound of the shower turns off and you cast a glance at the bathroom door, catching your reflection on the full length mirror. You blink repeatedly, seeing (yet another) item that you did not know Jaehyun had owned.
Your heart began to speed up as you twist around to get a better look. You could hear your heart beating in your ears with every slow step you took towards the corner of the room. There, hidden behind an armchair, resting against the crevice where the adjacent walls met, was a metal baseball bat. You wanted to throw up as your mind connected the dots.
Jaehyun was always protective of you.
“(Y/N)?”
You gasp, turning around, putting a hand over your chest.
Jaehyun, dressed in a loose shirt and boxers with a towel haphazardly thrown over his head, looked as equally as surprised as you.
He couldn’t possibly have done it.
You choke on the onslaught of tears, running to him and burying your face into his chest.
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” He automatically wraps his arms around you, smoothing your hair down. “You’re okay. I’m here. You’re safe with me.”
Jaehyun holds you tight, letting you cry out the remaining fear from the previous night, all the while placing kisses on your head and rubbing your back.
“Oh god,” You breathe in, smelling his strawberry-scented shower gel. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too.” He pulls away, tilting your face towards him. “How are you? Did you get any sleep? If I found out any sooner, I would have gone over to you.”
You shake your head, “I couldn’t sleep properly, even though Yebin and Minkyung stayed with me.”
“Have you eaten at least? Let me cook something for you to eat.”
“I-I… Don’t leave me here.” You hated yourself for sounding so weak.
Jaehyun offers you a soft smile, “No one’s going to hurt you while I’m around. But if you really don’t want to stay in my room, you can come with me to the kitchen.”
He leads you to the kitchen by the hand, his thumb running over your knuckles. He makes small talk with you, asking how your finals went, and you smile to yourself, seeing how he wanted to get your mind off last night.
You respond to his questions and watch him fry some eggs and slices of pork. It didn’t take too long for him to serve it to you with some reheated rice from this morning.
“Eat up, baby girl.”
“Baby girl?” You smirked, “Should I call you daddy, then?”
Jaehyun laughs, a blush still makes it way to the apples of his cheeks. “Be careful what you wish for.” He whispers into your ear, trying to sound seductive but ended up chuckling.
He watches you eat and from time to time, lets you feed him some.
“What are your plans after graduation?” He asks out of the blue.
You swallowed your food, “My plans?”
He nods, waiting for you to answer.
“Get a job?” You shrug, “I haven’t thought about that at all, actually.”
“How about moving into a new apartment?”
You pause for moment, “I don’t know if I can afford it, but my contract for my apartment right now ends two months after graduation so I should probably look into it.”
“Well,” Jaehyun massages his nape and avoids your gaze; a telltale sign he was nervous. He looked exactly the same when he first asked you out. “My parents graduation gift for me is my own apartment room in downtown Seoul. I was wondering if, you know, you’d want to move in with me.”
You stare at him, trying to process what he had just said. “Will your parents be okay with that? I mean, I thought you and Johnny would still be sharing an apartment.”
“He and Ten have their own plans, besides, I’m not sharing a bed with Johnny.” That makes you giggle and he lets out a short chuckle of his own, “And about my parents… they love you like their own daughter. They wouldn’t mind. I’m willing to bet they’re hoping for grandchildren in two years.”
“Woah there, big boy.” You laugh, “How about we take baby steps instead of hoping of seeing our baby take their first ones, huh?”
“Tell that to my parents.” He grumbles like a child and you reach up to pinch his cheeks.
“Anyways, I’d love to.”
“Hm?”
“I’d love to move in with you.”
It takes a second for Jaehyun to grin at your answer, both cheeks displaying a dimple each. “Really?”
You giggle at his reaction, biting down on your lower lip while you nod. “Yes, really.”
He pulls you in for multiple kisses, making you laugh in between each one. The last one he planted stayed longer against your lips, igniting a heat below your belly. His tongue grazes your lips and you instantly grant him access into your mouth, moaning at the sensation of his tongue sliding against yours.
His hands snake onto your thighs, roughly massaging them before pulling you tight against his body. You cling onto him; mouths undetached as he hauls you up and takes you back to the bedroom.
As if you were a delicate piece of china, Jaehyun sets you down on his bed with utmost care. He pulls away from the kiss, leaving a string of saliva between your lips before it snaps as he straightens himself to remove his shirt.
“Oh, god.” You groan, “I can’t believe I lasted 4 months.” You palmed him over his boxers with one hand while the other travelled upwards, fingers dancing across the expanse of the hard muscles of his abdomen and chest. Before you can slip your hands into his shorts, he grabs both of your wrists.
“I still owe you a destresser.” Jaehyun reminds you with a matching smirk on his lips.
You let him undress you, watching his eyes dart to every newly exposed skin and grow darker with carnal lust to every drop of clothing article on the floor by his feet. When you’re finally stripped off of all your clothes and underwear, he gently pushes you back until you’re lying on the bed. With a light tap on your thighs, your legs part to make room for him.
He removes his boxers and kneels on the bed, one hand already stroking his hard member. He leans down and kisses you, “I’m going to show you how much I missed you.”
“Don’t hold back.” You challenged and he playfully scoffs at you.
“When have I ever held back?”
Before you could answer, a digit dips into your core. A shaky sigh escapes you as Jaehyun languidly moves his finger around.
“Show me how much you missed me first.” He quietly says, “Use my hand.”
Whimpering, you covered his hand with your own, grinding your clit into his palm. Your fingers tapped onto his middle finger and he got the message, inserting it along with his pointer finger. He dragged them against your inner walls that caused you to softly moan.
You lifted your hips, hoping to get some more leverage but Jaehyun flexes his middle finger and it brushes against your g-spot. You gasp, dropping your weight back down to the bed. From there, Jaehyun takes over.
With no warning, he pumps his fingers into you, curling them inside before pulling out. It felt amazing and your body was already starting to convulse. He continued his actions, going harder and faster, ignoring the signs of your oncoming orgasm.
You cry out, grabbing onto his wrist with both hands as your body violently shook.
Not wasting any time, Jaehyun takes whatever essence of your climax his fingers collected and smears it over his cock, giving it a few more pumps before he slides it in you.
Your moan may or may not have been too loud for the neighbors to hear, but you had no control over it. Despite being sensitive and still high from your orgasm, you try to spread your thighs further for him. One of your legs pinned his on the bed while you wrapped the other around his hips.
Jaehyun mumbles something about you being tight and how it feels amazing just before he begins to thrust, slow and deep. He leans over and kisses your neck, alternating between sucking and licking every patch of skin he can get his mouth on.
“I’m going to mark you so other guys wouldn’t think twice about hitting on you, okay?” He thrusts a little too hard, as if to punctuate his question, and you groan in response.
“Yes, yes,” You gasp, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders. “I’m yours.”
He makes almost an animalistic growl, hips moving more erratically with your words. “Say that again.”
“I’m yours.” You chant, almost like a prayer.
With every repetition of your invocation, Jaehyun snaps his hips into you, gaining more speed and power. It had you curling your toes and teetering over a cliff, ready to jump head first into ecstasy only he can deliver.
Your body thrashed against him as he gave you your second mind-blowing orgasm for the night. He helps you ride it out, keeping your hips still as he shallowly pushed into you. Unintentionally, you clenched around him and he moans at the sensation.
“Shit, that feels so good, baby.” He rasps, throwing his head back.
“Won’t you come?” You asked, pouting up at him as you catch your breath.
Slowing down his thrusts, he looks down at you. He studies how you were still shivering from your high, how his kisses on your necks have bloomed into a bouquet of purple flowers, how your breasts rose with every haggard breath. He takes one into his hand, softly palming it. “I’m getting there.”
“Is there anything you want me to do?” You watch his eyebrows scrunch up and his lips curl into a wicked grin.
He pulls out of you all of a sudden and crawls until his knees are on either side of your chest. “Open up.”
You part your lips and stick your tongue out a little.
Jaehyun groans at the lewd sight of you; taking his cock into his hand and pumping as fast as he can. He places the tip on your tongue when beads of pre-cum ooze out.
You lick it up immediately, coaxing him to ejaculate by running your tongue on the underside of his cock’s head.
A string of curses fall from Jaehyun’s lips as he finally found the final push he needed to come. White, hot liquid shoots into your mouth and amidst of you swallowing it, the remaining cum splashes onto your cupid’s bow, cheek, and chin. He cries out in anguish when you push yourself up to suck him dry with hollowed cheeks. As you fall back to bed, one last spurt escapes him and hits your brow.
Seeing it dribble down your eyelid, Jaehyun uses his thumb to swipe it off. Before he can clean his finger, you grab hold of his wrist and guide it to your mouth, collecting the salty substance with your tongue.
“Jesus christ, (Y/N).” Jaehyun exhales, feeling his cock twitch at the salacious scene.
“I just missed how you tasted.” You giggled, kissing his thumb. “Still delicious.”
He combs your sweat-slicked hair and chuckles, his ears turning red at the compliment, “Well, I’m sure you taste sweeter.”
You jut out your lower lip at him, “How would you know? You haven’t tasted me in months.”
“Oh?” His eyes glaze over once again, “Is that a challenge?”
“Baby,” You coo, “It’s an invitation.”
If his dimpled smile made you melt, a dimpled smirk made you melt in other places–places he was about to visit.
“Don’t mind if I do, then.” He trails a kiss from between your breasts down to your navel.
Your jaw drops when he arrives right at your core and does his magic.
You dip your head back down further on the bed, moaning at every flick of his tongue. You turn your head to the side and your eyes fall on the baseball bat from earlier. You had a clearer view of it this time.
You had a clearer view of the other end stained with dark red splatters.
Your blood ran cold and you froze up.
Jaehyun, realizing immediately that you had stopped responding to his actions, pulls away and looks at you. His gaze follows yours and once he spots what had grabbed your attention, he hovers above you and places a hand on either side of your head. “Look at me.” He commands.
“You couldn’t have…” You murmur, meeting his darkened eyes.
“He touched you.” He simply states, devoid of any emotion.
“Jaehyun!” You reprimand, but he cuts you off.
“He disrespected you, (Y/N). I wasn’t going to let that pass by!”
“How did you even know I was the bar? Were you following me?”
“I wanted to make sure you were safe!”
You push him off, scooting off the bed and picking out your clothes from the floor. This wasn’t something you wanted to discuss in the nude. “Well, I was! Yebin and Minkyung were there with me. We left before he could do anything else. You didn’t have to beat him up with a bat! Jesus christ! Jae! You’re wanted by campus police.”
“He got what he deserved, (Y/N).” He coolly shrugs his shoulders, grabbing his boxers and slipping them on while watching you dress.
“And what about those guys from the pool?” You suddenly remembered running into them the other day.
“I only meant to go after the one who couldn’t keep his eyes off you.” Jaehyun admits, “But his friends came looking for him, so I had to deal with them as well.”
“You took them by your–” You shut your eyes in frustration and disbelief. It felt like you didn’t even know the man in front of you. Shaking your head with a scoff, you avoid his piercing glare.
Another thought pops into your head, a scarier one that gave you goosebumps.
You look to the table and stare at the black face mask, “…w-were you the guy last night?”
“Yes. I was outside your window, too, when you masturbated.”
You gaped at him with horrified astonishment. “Why?” It took every fiber of your body not to start shaking from fear and disgust. “You scared me shitless!”
“That was the point.”
Your jaw drops, unable to formulate a proper response, nevertheless, Jaehyun continues.
“I had to scare you back to me.”
“What?!”
“I was losing you.” His voice finally breaks from the monotony and raises an octave higher. “You asked for an extension when I was at my limit. I missed you!”
“I was mad! You punched my best friend, Jaehyun! I had the right to be! And it didn’t mean you were losing me. I just needed time to cool down!” You pinch the bridge of your nose. Never, in the four years, you and Jaehyun have spent together did you argue like this. This was a completely different side to your boyfriend and all these revelations were giving you a headache. You needed time to process them. “I can’t do this.”
You make a move to leave but Jaehyun blocks your path.
“Can’t do what?” His voice had dropped and his eyes were practically black as the night. Taken aback from his demeanor, you were unable to respond to him, making him ask again in a raised voice. “Can’t do what, (Y/N)?!”
“Let me go, Jae. I need to go.”
“Go where? Who are you running of to, huh? Doyoung? Taeyong?”
“Why are you dragging Taeyong into this?”
Jaehyun scowls, “I saw you giving his picture a heart eyes react.”
“Oh my god!” You shout, “Do you hear yourself right now? So I liked his new photo because I thought his new hairstyle looked good. He’s our friend, remember? Jaehyun, please, let me leave.”
“And what? Extend our break even more? I don’t think so.” He reaches for your hand, but you move away. “(Y/N).”
“You’re honestly scaring me right now.” You back away until you feel the wall behind you. “Why are you acting like this?”
“Because I love you, (Y/N),” He steps forward, “Everything I do is for you. I have to protect you. If you could only see how other guys look at you, how they would undress you with their eyes–I, I can’t let them disrespect you like that. They need to know that you’re mine and I’m yours.”
“And if you really, really do love me, Jae,” Your eyes tear up, “You would let me leave.”
“No. W-why?” His eyebrows scrunched up in frustration “Do you want to break up?”
You swallow hard, “I’m really scared right now, Jaehyun. Just please give me time to think–”
“Answer me!” He yells, making you flinch in your spot. He traps you against the wall, “Are you thinking about breaking up with me?”
“I don’t feel safe with you right now.” You breathed. Your words were barely audible but they rang like sirens in Jaehyun’s ears.
He steps away from you, the emotions on his face have changed from hostile to defeated. His eyes are wet as they searched around the room for something, and they fell on the full length mirror attached to the bathroom door. Huffing, he takes two large steps towards it and swings as hard as he can.
You shrieked as his fist connected to the mirror, creating a large, cracked web onto it. You had expected him to stop, or at most react to the the pain of the blow, but he repeatedly punched the mirror, smashing chunks of the glass and sending them crashing to the floor.
“Jae, stop!” You yell, but it was as if he couldn’t hear you.
You found yourself grabbing his arms at the first sight of crimson staining the mirror. “Jaehyun!”
“Go away! I don’t want to hurt you,” He spares you a tormented glance. His cheeks were damp from tears already. “I can’t hurt you, so let me–”
He attempts to throw another punch, but you hold him back. Then both of you struggled with one another, until he nudges you away and faces you. “You hate me!” He cries.
You shake your head in denial, but he repeats himself.
“You hate me.”
“I never said that.” You squeaked, staring into his eyes.
“You wanted to break up.” Jaehyun grabs a fistful of his hair as he shuts his eyes.
“I never said that, either.” You quietly admonished, shakily reaching up to wipe his tears.
He had flinched away from your touch at first, snapping his eyes wide open like an injured beast being cornered, but the way you looked at him made him drop his defenses.
“I’m sorry.” He chokes out, sobbing like a little boy and your heart wrenches at the sight. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He repeats over and over until you pull him down, letting his head rest on the crook of your neck. “I can’t lose you, (Y/N). I can’t. I just wanted to protect you.”
“You’re not gonna lose me and you won’t.” You run one of your hands down his back while the other combed through his hair.
He pulls away, tears still flowing down his cheeks, “You’re not leaving me?”
You take in his expression; a mix of pain, anguish, confusion, guilt, and above all that, you see the expression that made you choose him and stay by his side: love.
“I mean, I have to go home sooner or later.” You cock your head, offering him an unsure smile in an endeavour to bring up his mood, and it sort of did. The briefest flash of his dimple with the curl of the corners of his lips told you that you had at least succeeded in making him laugh. “But I can spend the night if you want to.”
“I want you to.” He mumbles and you smile up at him.
“Then I’ll stay the night.” You pull him down until his forehead was touching yours. Playing with the short hairs on his nape, you whisper onto his lips, “I love you.”
A smile finally breaks out onto his face, lighting it up from the solemn mood “I love you, too.”
“Let’s get your hand cleaned up and wrapped, okay?” You kiss his cheek and lead him out the room, careful not to step on any glass shards.
The clock in the living room struck 12 and exhaustion seeped into your system. You were beginning to accept that there was something terribly wrong with your boyfriend’s psychological health. You should have ran away when you had the chance; you should have left when he, himself, told you to. But you remembered his eyes when he spared you a glance. Something in them switched like an on and off button when they were on you in comparison to when he had been punching the wall.
You look over your shoulder and up at Jaehyun, who sniffed as he inspected his bleeding knuckles.
Your friends have always told you how much he doted you.
Up until tonight, you had no idea just how devoted Jaehyun was to you.
devoted 2 part 1
devotee (jaehyun’s pov)
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Season 1: Chapter Nine
Previous Chapter — First Chapter
Miles
It didn't matter that I was just shy of turning 44 years old. The University of Oregon campus was nearly 300 acres of property housing nearly 23,000 students from around the world. Sure, the majority were teens and young adults, but there was no shortage of older individuals seeking education. More so, I didn't have to be a student. I could be a teacher, a maintenance worker, the IT guy, even a fuckin' janitor. For all anyone knew, I belonged here. And the way I walked through those grand, window-framed doors - people knew. I had a purpose.
Showing no signs of hesitation, fear, or confusion, I waltzed my way throughout the campus. For nearly an hour, I roamed the campus freely and without even batting an eyelash to any other person. I was mostly ignored by those who did notice me. But for most, it was like I didn't even exist - just like the rest of them. I was just another body in a mass of humans.
But I was here for a reason, and that was to fulfill a job and keep a promise; an agreement that got me freedom in 6. Kyle Turner. Kyle fucking Turner. "Fuckin' football prick raped my niece and got off scot-free," as Correctional Lieutenant Dave Ward would say. The very first words of his that changed the course of my history at Oregon State Pen. And I had read the reports, the articles, the media frenzy - all in prison. I knew what he had done, and he was guilty. But a fully-paid scholarship and a hell of a lot of "hush-money" got him nothing. Not even a smack on the wrist. He walked. Went free. And Ward's niece? Well, things didn't go so great for her. Fearing him, she refused her admittance into UofO, afraid she would see him again.
So the fucker had to die. And now it was finally time.
Approaching the glass doors of the Performance Center, I made a fatal mistake. Reaching my hand out to pull on the handle, the door stayed shut. It creaked as I tried to open it - but it was locked.
"Uh, hello?" A large football player called to me in his confusion, his mouth agape and his eyes squinted as he made his approach. He was as heavy as he was tall; his long, afro-style hair alone adding inches to his height. "This building is for authorized personnel only..." He said to me, pulling a plastic card from behind him and slipping it through the swipe-pad beside the door. The pad flashed green and the door clicked. Unlocked. This place was advanced, way more security than I could have ever imagined. University of Oregon had changed in the last 6 years.
Turning to him, I gave a toothy grin and begin to chuckle. "Boy do I feel old, huh." He looked at me, cautiously as he stood before the door. But I didn't let him disappear into the building before I extracted needed information. "I'm actually lookin' for someone - maybe you can help me..." I iterated, "One of your football mates, Kyle Turner."
The player gave me a saucy eye glare. "What about him?"
Pausing, I conjured the biggest load of shit I could muster up in 0.2 seconds. "My niece, you know-" I started to chuckle, so much so that it interrupted my speech. "Ah man, this is embarrasing on her part, but she's... she's a HUGE fan of his. And I mean HUGE. She has posters of him all over her room, you know?"
"Uh-huh..." Little interest from him. Only suspicion. But I didn't let him get another word in.
"I mean she's just nuts for college football. Strange for a girl, no? I guess the world is changin' and I'm far behind. Heh, heh, heh." I chuckled again, trying to fluster the boy with too much information for him to process. "But ANYWAYS -" I continued, "Her birthday's comin' up and I was hopin' to get maybe a... you know... surprise appearance from him?" There was a look of confusion on the poor boy's face. "WITH COMPENSATION, of course." Another smile.
"Uhhhhhhhmm, righttttt." He replied. "Let me..." He struggled to respond. Possibly the weirdest request he'd ever received, surely. "Let me go see if he's here. I'll be right back."
"Sure thing, but ah-!" I held my hand up, a signal for him to stop as he reached for the handle. "Allow me," Taking the door by the giant O shape in its handle, I pulled the steel frame open to allow for the jock to head in. In respect to him, I closed it behind him, locking me out of the building once more.
I stood there waiting. Waiting patiently. With my hands stuffed in my pockets, I casually swayed my body and whistled a chirpy hymn. To my surprise, it took only minutes for the door to open again. And out came Kyle fuckin' Turner in the flesh. And he wasn't a teenager anymore. No... He was a man, now.
"Uh, hi-?" Kyle would greet me, without so much as a formal introduction. Fuckin' millennials.
It took me a moment to sink in his appearance. Tall, 6'1, still shorter than me. A big guy, no doubt. But size didn't matter when it came to murder. Only intent, motive, and calculation. "Yes! Kyle Turner." Pulling my hand from my coat pocket, I extended it to him. "My name is Angelo Rossi. It's great to meet you!" Turner took my hand, shaking it as firmly as I was squeezing. But as he had taken my hand in his, I had also raised my other free hand to firmly grip his bicep. A sort of gesture of greeting, but it secretly to scope his muscular size.
"Yeah, thanks." The fucker would respond. Yeah, thanks? Really? Really.
Releasing his hand, I returned my superior 6 foot 3 stance to it's upright position and gave a fake, cheery smile. "My niece, she's a crazy fan." Pulling for my wallet, I slipped out a photograph of a teenage girl. "Her name is Nakoma. She's... half native half Italian, like me. Heh." Kyle took the photo in his hand, his eyebrows raising at the beautiful young lady he saw in the picture. Perfect, interest. "A looker, I know. Causes me more problems, ya know?" I chuckled, taking the photo back. "So listen, I came here hopin' I could hire you. For a job, of sorts."
Kyle crossed his arms before him and looked at me curiously. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, man. I'm organizing Nakoma's 16th birthday and I really want to make it special. She has posters of ya' all around her room and I thought, pffftttt, what better to surprise her with her favorite football player? Every teenage girl's dream, right?" I laughed again, thinking the idea is silly, but might actually work. "Nothin' major. There's be about 30 of her girlfriends there hangin' around the pool-" Realizing it was January, I instantly corrected myself. "Indoor pool, at her father's place. Big place, you know?" Kyle's head was nodding - Still interested. "Figured you can drop by for an hour or so, or even less if you're in a crunch. Sign some autographs, take some pictures. Grab a bite to eat, whatever you want. There'll be plenty of food, cuz, well, Italians, am I right?" Laughing again, Kyle's interest seemed to only be piquing the more bizarre and outlandish the story got.
"Sounds fun." He smiled, bringing his fingers to his lips as he pondered the thought of 30 hot teenage girls in their bikinis. "But uh-" He started to sway. "I don't know-"
"I'll pay you $5,0000. Cash." I confessed. His eyes widened. "$2,500 for showing up. $1,500 for autographs and another $1,000 if you take some selfies. You know' - the girls thing. Selfies, heh." I paused, my eyes growing darker as they remained hidden behind Aviator shades. "What do ya' say? We got a deal?" Swiftly changing tunes, "You know what, don't sweat the decision now. There's a lot of politics in sports, I'm old. I know it." I waved my hand in typical Italian fashion. "You gotta' business card or somethin'?"
"Uh, nah but I can give you my number-" Perfect. A rich white kid, hot-shot jock, AND a moron. This was too easy. Handing him the photo, he retrieved a pen from his pocket and jotted down his digits.
"Wow, thanks man. I appreciate you considering this." I waved the photograph of "Nakoma" and slipped it back into my wallet. "I'll give you a call something this week. Talk it over with your coach or manager or whoever you kids report to, heh." I put my hand out for him to shake again, "And nice meeting you again."
— — —
I found myself roaming the halls of University of Oregon on my attempt to exit the campus. My curious mind sent me further and further into the campus maze - a prestigious multitude of buildings and intricate floor plans; each with its own purpose, meaning, and unique design. Deep in UofO, I stumbled upon the Department of Fine Arts. The halls were brimming from floor-to-ceiling with murals and artwork. Slowing my pace, I stopped to appreciate the work. I had always had an affinity to for paintings.
My eye had always found itself drawn to the color red. Red.
My dark irises wandered the walls, finally pulling towards a large, 5 foot canvas. It soared above me - dazzling in its ocean of red. The painting was of a woman, presumably dripping in blood. A sort of, Queen of the Damned. Intrigued, my eyes shifted to the small plaque stuck to the wall by the corner of the artwork. Nicola Strom. My stomach sunk as my heart skipped a beat.
"Crucifixion." The words rolled off of my lips. My head retracted slowly as my eyes closed. "Mmmm."
— — —
January 20th, 2018 - Five days after release.
Eugene, Oregon had been unusually warm for January. For the most part, it was sunny and rainy on-and-off, with an average high temperature of 45 degrees F. Too warm for snow. At least, not enough sub-zero temperatures to keep it for more than a couple days, anyways. Luckily for this lovely Saturday evening, the rain had stopped early morning and the skies were greeted by a brightening sun.
Kyle parked his Trail-Rated Jeep cruiser in front of the colonial-century home, red-bricked mansion. He ducked his head, looking over the place with his pale eyes as he took in the sheer size of the place. Although Eugene was home to old money - big money - it was also commonly inhabited by the middle class. Whoever owned this place... wasn't a white-collar, middle class citizen.
Exiting his truck, he approached the front door, which was lavishly decorated with a Sweet-Sixteen balloon bundle. A clear indication he was at the right house. As he rang the doorbell, it only took a few seconds before he was greeted by a familiar face. "Mr. Turner." I said, standing tall with my hand cemented firmly on the back of the door. It was the first time he was seeing my hazel-speckled brown eyes.
It was also the last.
"Cute." I blurted, subliminally mocking his uniformed self as my eyes gazed over his full-football get-up. Shredded sleeves to show his pectoral muscles. How sleazy. Helmet and all. How sweet. "Come join the fun." I smirked, guiding him through the front door. "But maybe take off the helmet." Chuckling, Turner cracked a smile as he took a step into the house - which was, unsuspectingly, filled with the sound of laughing girls.
"Too much, huh?" Kyle joked, unclasping the helmet and slipping his head free. His back was to me as I closed the door. "I thought mayb-" The moment he turned to face me, my hand - hidden behind the door the entire time - swung straight for his head. A thin medical syringe pierced into the side of his neck - administered by my right hand - Gloved. Protected.
Injecting the cocktail of muscle relaxants, Kyle quickly deteriorated in a matter of seconds. His initial reaction to grab for my hand, but by the time he could react - it was already too late. He was losing almost all of his muscle ability. One. Two. Three. He hit the ground, unable to move, unable to moan, unable to call for help. With his body curled in the middle of the hallway, his eyes remained open - panicked. Looking down at his 6'1, 200 pound physique - which had been reduced to nothing in just seconds - I shook my head. Pathetic.
His eyes followed my every move. He was conscious. Awake. Aware. I stepped over him and walked past him like he didn't even exist. Stepping into my living room, I smiled at the sound of giggling teenage girls filled the open-concept space. Walking over to the stereo system, I grabbed the remote and clicked - Off. Silence. Girls? What girls. There were no girls.
Returning to his paralyzed figure, I crouched down to brood over him. I tilted my head to the side and grabbed his face between my gloved thumb and fingers. Squeezing his limp cheeks between them as I leaned his head to look at me. "Oh, Kyle." I made clicking noises with the back of my tongue. "Remember her?" Pulling a photograph from my back pocket - Sarah Ward. "Yeahhhhh." I flicked the photo in his face, nearly submitting to my urge to spit on him. "You're gonna die tonight." There was a dark, unforgiving grimace that crept my cheeks. "And it's gonna fuckin' hurt."
Two, single-drop tears fell from the corners of his eyes.
Hours had passed. Daylight turned to dark as night loomed over the city. Darkness was here. And it didn't come from the sky, nor the sun.
Using Kyle's keys, I exited the mansion on the quiet, quaint street. E 22nd Avenue - a large strip of homes graciously spread apart; separated by the comfort of many, decades-old trees. I pulled the vehicle into the long driveway, reversing it rear-forward all the way to the side of the house. Two garage doors welcomed the Jeep, closing behind the front of it. It remained utterly hidden, safe within the confines of the home's garage.
It would remain there until 3:45 in the morning, and a storm was brewing.
The sound of the garage door sliding gurgled as it swayed open. Keeping the lights of the Jeep off, I placed it into drive and pulled it out of my driveway. The garage door closed behind me automatically, dismissing any evidence it had ever harbored a crime scene. My heart remained regular - beating as it would driving any other vehicle, on any other day, under any other circumstances.
Humming, I drove the few blocks between the mansion and the University Campus. The Jeep came to the vehicle entrance of the Oregon Autzen Football Stadium. Like everything within the Performance Center, it required a swipe card to be unlocked and accessed. Holding out Kyle Tuner's card, I flicked it between the pad and waited. Flashing green, the gates to the field slid open. Although forbidden to bring any vehicles directly on to the terrain, it was 3:50 in the morning, on a Saturday. Too late for any players to be hangin' around during off-season, and too early for any maintenance workers or cleaners to begin their services. It was pitch-black, and between the sticky snow and the blowing winds - visibility was poor.
Reversing the trail-rated wrangler, I slowly backed it up on to the field, parking the trunk of the vehicle directly in front of the brightly-yellow painted goal-post. Exiting the vehicle, I was dressed from head-to-toe in Kyle's football uniform, with the addition of a black long-sleeved T-shirt underneath. No tattoos were visible. Virtually nothing about me was recognizable. For all intensive purposes, I could very well be Kyle Turner.
Unlatching the trunk, it swooshed open. There lay the true Kyle Turner. The flesh and blood. And there was a lot of blood.
Taking the thick, twisted rope in my hand, I ran it from the back of the truck to the goalpost. Tossing it over the post's T-center, I caught it back in my hand and ran it back to the truck. The end of the rope was supported by a curled grappling hook. Kneeling behind the trunk, I fastened the hook to the hitch on the Jeep and found my way back to the driver's seat. Pushing the gears into drive, I slowly began to inch the vehicle forward until the rope strained - pulling viciously with the weight. Metal to the floor, I forced the truck into overdrive, suddenly gunning it forward and sending the object in the trunk to veer out of the vehicle. Decelerating the tracks, I watched in my review mirror as the item - two strong planks of crossed wood - reeled up against the T in the yellow goalpost. As it mounted to perfect height, I slammed the Jeep in park, and swiftly - excitedly- hopped out of the truck.
It started slow at first, my heavy, rumbling laughter. But it evolved, soon developing into a magnified, thrill-infused maniacal cackle. Victory.
— — —
January 21st, 2018 - The Discovery.
The lights to the stadium flickered on - lighting the dark early-morning. The sun would not rise for another hour. And for a group of football jocks mucking their way to football practice, it would be a morning they would never forget.
Wailing. Loud, incessant, uncontrollable wailing. The sound of screaming echoed throughout the stadium; hair-raising in its velocity, and intensity. The scene brought a grown, 21-year old man to his knees. Vomit projected from his chapped lips as he puked vehemently on the immaculate, freshly-snowed grass - staining it flaxen. It brought a wave of nausea to the entire team. Some cried, some collapsed, some gagged, heaved, hurled. But most... most stood in shock.
Hailed before them was the body of Christ - a crucifixion of their most valued team member. There lay the body of Kyle Turner, naked and colorless, with only the stain of bleeding red that covered his postmortem flesh.
His genitals were mutilated. His penis split in three different directions. He had been completely castrated; his balls were absent entirely from his groin. An indescribable amount of blood has been loss at its expense, leaving a blood-pour of red human serous to cascade down his legs. Cause of death? Blood loss. Slow, agonizing, harrowing blood loss.
The cross hung from the center of the goalpost, the snow beneath his purple-faded feet red with blood. His hands were staked on either side; his ankles crossed and tied. His neck - the same color as his bruised toes - was mounted by barbed wire. His head bore the same fate - crowned like that of Christ with blood trickling from his scalp.
RAPIST - Carved with a knife in to his forehead.
SINNER - The words dripped from his abdomen in crusting blood, beginning to harden... but still moist. Fresh.
— — —
"Shocking news this morning on KVAL-13." Smitha George - Live News Reporter, would announce on national television. "A tragedy has occurred at University of Oregon. Senior Football Quarterback Kyle Turner, Star of the Oregon Ducks, was found brutally murdered at the campus stadium." She would go on, standing unshaken in the parking lot of the Performance Center. "Police have ruled the case a homicide after teammates found Tuner's mutilated body crucified on the goal-post of the end field." Spilling too much information for her own good - reporters classically interfered with investigations; often jeopardizing their efforts. "His hands and feet were reportedly pinned to a wooden cross, and his head wrapped in barb wire. Teammates report that the words "Rapist" and "Sinner" were carved on his body..."
"... And that his eyes and lips were painted red, with blood."
"Turner's vehicle, a Black 2017 Jeep Wrangler - was found abandoned at the scene. Police are looking for any information that may aid their efforts in solving this terrible case." She paused, staring into the camera as her words fed into the lives of millions of Oregon residents. "I'm Smitha George, reporting LIVE for KVAL-13 News."
The clip ended.
#miles jones chapter#miles jones perspective#miles jones#dawn crow#through the dirt#jeffrey dean morgan faceclaim#jdm#murder#tw: violence#tw: rape mention
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
January Reading Wrap-Up
Okay so I want to start typing up a little summary/review for each of the books I read this year, so that maybe some of my followers can find some new titles! This month I read 5 romances, 2 fantasies, 2 non-fiction (a memoir and a recounting of some supposedly true paranormal events), and 1 mystery/thriller. If you’re interested in any of those genres, maybe check out the reviews under the cut :)
Mystery/Thriller
Lock Every Door by Riley Sager
Rating: 2.5/5
This book was a mega disappointment for me. The concept was really intriguing. Jules has just recently been through some life turmoil, losing her job, boyfriend, and home in the same day. She takes a job apartment sitting in a very prestigious historical building with a dark history. Weird occurrences ensue, including strict rules and missing apartment sitters. If you don’t read/watch a lot of mystery/thriller/(even true crime) content and are interested in dabbling, this could be a good choice for you. Unfortunately, I found the hints started dropping a little too early, and the answers were a little too obvious for me to be properly intrigued. I wanted a really slow burn mystery, and this just felt overly rushed for me.
Non-Fic
In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado (memoir)
Rating: 5/5
I don’t usually rate non-fiction, especially memoirs, because it’s hard for me to but a grade on someone’s account of their own life. But holy shit this book blew me out of the water. This is the story of Carmen Maria Machado’s abusive same-sex relationship, and the unique struggles faced by victims of f/f relationship violence. First of all, Machado’s writing is unparralled. Absolutely gorgeous. The way she structures this, all the history and pop culture she ties in keeps it feeling fresh and engaging. The content is of course very heavy, dealing with themes of abuse in many different forms. However, imo these issues are handled with honesty and grace, in a way that never felt gratuitous.
The Mothman Prophecies by John Keel (paranormal account)
Rating: N/A
Uhm... I hated every second of reading this. I love Mothman. I love reading/watching/listening to content around weird/spooky/paranormal occurrences. I did not love this book. It was so boring. Total slog to read. There was no narrative structure/order of events. I assumed the story would track the beginning of weird reports in Point Pleasant, then follow Keel’s own arrival and investigation of these reports, with his own experiences and background being used to create a coherent story. That’s not what this is. This is a random arrangement of ufo/men in black/strange encounter stories that all fit a similar theme. Not to say no one would enjoy this, or that it doesn’t present interesting theories (it certainly does), just didn’t work for me. If you want a more easily digestible (and by FAR more enjoyable) version of this, check out the Astonishing Legends podcast and their episodes covering this book.
Fantasy
Black Sun (Book 1, Between Earth and Sky) by Rebecca Roanhorse
Ratung: 4/5
Finally some good fucking food. if you’re looking for some adult fantasy with a new and interesting world, have I got a book for you. This is a multiple POV story following four main characters and two main plotlines. Xiala, a Teek (siren-esque) ship captain hired to transport Serapio (who may or may not be the vessel of an apocalypse god) to the city of Tova, where Naranpa (the Sun Priestess) is trying to navigate a city on the brink of political upheaval. The world is inspired by Pre-Columbian civilizations in the Americas, and the lore/magic/politics are all totally unlike any other fantasy I’ve read.
Come Tumbling Down (Book 5, Wayward Children) by Seanan McGuire
Rating: 3
This was definitely a solid addition to this series, if not my favorite. The Wayward Children series follows the adventures of children who were able to enter magical worlds, but for a variety of reasons had to leave those worlds. This book most closely aligns with books one and two, almost feeling like a direct sequel to book two with the addition of characters from book three. It didn’t have the emotional impact for me that earlier books did, but there was nothing glaringly bad or wrong here. I would definitely recommend this series to anyone who enjoyed portal/doorway/wardrobe to a magical world stories as a kid.
Romance
The Bride Test (Book 2, The Kiss Quotient) by Helen Hoang
Rating: 5/5
I love this series. I love these characters. As far as I’m concerned, Helen Hoang cannot fucking miss. This is an excellent sequel to The Kiss Quotient, but can be read on it’s own no problem. This story follows Esme, a Vietnamese woman who is enlisted to travel to the US to woo and marry Khai, an autistic man who isn’t interested in dating (much to the concern of his mother). They’re both dealing with their own issues in this book. Khai is convinced that he can’t feel love, because he’s spent his entire life being told he’s demonstrating it in the wrong way. Esme is dealing with the struggles of a new immigrant, who wants to be able to support her family back in Vietnam (including her young daughter), while also dealing with the pressure to seduce Khai. Shenanigans ensue. These books have the perfect balance of sweetness/sexy appeal/angst. There is a good deal of miscommunication/misunderstanding/secret keeping in here, but it’d ultimately a minor issue in an overall really supportive relationship full of mutual admiration. I will absolutely be reading the third book, and I highly recommend the series overall.
She Tempts the Duke (Book 1, Lost Lords of Pembrook) by Lorraine Heath
Rating: 3/5
This was fine. I’ve read better historical romance, but I have certainly read worse. This book follows Mary and Sebastian, childhood friends separated by a tragedy. When they were children, Sebastian and his brothers were forced to flee for their lives based on the actions of their power hungry uncle. Now, as adults, they have returned to reclaim their father’s title. Mary, who helped them escape, has just been allowed back into society after a childhood in a convent, and she must work extra hard to maintain her reputation in order to maintain her engagement. I’m sure you can imagine where it goes from there. The story itself is very simple, there were no twists or unexpected turns. The childhood friends aspect could’ve been played up more imo, but I did enjoy the care between the two leads. They really want what’s best for each other. The most interesting aspect for me was the relationship between the brothers, and how they’ve all been changed and hardened by their pasts.
Spoiler Alert by Olivia Dade
Rating: 3.5/5
This was cute! The book follows Marcus (a major actor in a GOT-esque blockbuster fantasy TV show on the rocks) and April (fan of the show). April and Marcus both write fanfiction for the same ship (half of which is Marcus’s own character), and have developed a strong online friendship, both keeping their identities secret. If anyone were to find out that Marcus writes show critical fanfic, he would be in serious legal trouble, not to mention what it would do to his reputation. April has been keeping her fandom life separate from her real life, in order to maintain credibility in her career. However, a new work environment gives her the confidence to be more open about her passions. April posts a cosplay of herself as one of the characters from the show (the other half of their ship). April is plus-size, and her cosplay gets a lot of attention, some of which being internet typical negativity. Marcus sees this hate online, and is so upset by it that he publicly praises her and asks her on a date (not knowing April is his fanfic buddy). Shenanigans ensue. I liked this book a lot, I thought the concept was cute and I loved how sweet Marcus was at all times. The relationship felt really grounded in the friendship/common interests of the characters. There is a lot of misunderstanding/miscommunication in this book, to the point where I did become frustrated, even if it is understandable based on the insecurities of the characters.
Take A Hint, Dani Brown (Book 2, The Brown Sisters) by Talia Hibbert
Rating: 4/5
Zaf I am in love with you. This is the second book in the series but you can totally read it on its own without the context of the first book. This is the story of Dani (a bi phd student with a no relationship rule) and Zaf (an ex-pro rugby player turned security guard who loves romance novels and deals with extreme anxiety). Zaf and Dani work in the same building on a college campus, and have developed a casual friendship. During a fire drill gone wrong, a video of Zaf rescuing Dani goes viral, with everyone thinking they are a couple. Zaf wants to use the publicity to help his charity organization (helping teen boys learn emotional maturity), Dani wants a no-strings sex arrangement with Zaf, fake-dating ensues. This series is the blueprint for healthy relationships built on mutual respect and admiration, with two characters learning to deal with their own issues with the help and support of their potential romantic partner. If you don’t usually read romance bc of the genre-typical problematic content, consider checking this series out.
One Foot in the Grave (Book 2, Night Huntress) by Jeaniene Frost
Rating: 3/5
This series follows Cat, a half human/half vampire hybrid who hunts vampires. In this book, set four years after the first, she is the leader of a vampire hunting secret government kill squad. Her ex-lover, the vampire Bones, who trained her and is basically the love of her life, reappears after four years of separation. They are very, very obviously Buffy and Spike (if Spike was a good guy). It was better than the first one. More/better humor, Cat is much less annoying. I liked the relationship dynamics, particularly with Cat and her team. It really kind of negates the big conflict set up at the end of the first book, so that all the relationship drama there feels very pointless. There is a TON of woman/woman hate in this series and it’s so cringey. I try to be lenient bc the books are old and I know that kind of attitude was common back then, but oh my god is it gross and weird. There is literally ONE female character Cat views in a positive lights, and she literally disappears into thin air 1/4 of the through the book. I wish the romance wasn’t so rushed (a complaint I had in the first book as well). If you like paranormal romance and don’t mind a pretty dated read, this series could be fun for you.
Other
Rooms by Lauren Oliver
Rating: 3/5
I have no idea what genre to call this (literary fiction?? kind of??). It’s a ghost story and the story of a pretty messed up family dealing with their issues. The writing is really pretty, but the story feels kind of without substance. Like there are multiple POVs (the two ghosts haunting the house, the mother of the family, the sister and the brother, the niece), but none of them really struck any cords with me. I never felt emotionally connected to anyone. It was a really easy read, I enjoyed the writing. The concept was interesting. It just felt a little hollow and pointless to me, which sounds really harsh considering I by no means hated it.
0 notes
Text
Criminal Minds S07E01 “It Takes a Village” review - or more aptly named, PAGET BREWSTER AND AJ COOK! <3
Episode 01 – It Takes a Village
Hey everyone!
So I’m uber excited about this season!
So without any further ado ...
Let’s see what happens!
Wait. Why are my honeys on trial? What’s going on here?
“Three and a half months, sir.”
“Agents Rossi, Morgan and I were there with our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.”
“Seventeen, sir.”
They solved seventeen cases over three and a half months? DAMN.
“Thank you.”
“Why aren’t we in there?”
“They’re just trying to intimidate us.”
“Well, that’s not about to happen.”
“I’m not okay with this.”
“You may not even be a witness.”
“Sir, I’m not worried about me.”
“Don’t they have anything better to do than …”
“Baby girl, this is just what they do?”
“Anything?”
“It doesn’t look good.”
Well, shit!
“How long is she gonna be there?”
“It required a lot of detail.”
“We didn’t have time, sir. Once the subject was confirmed, we had to act quickly.”
“Don’t take the shot!”
“Don’t shoot!”
“I got him!”
“Yes. We put an international criminal with terrorist connections in federal custody.”
Yeah, baby.
Queen Elizabeth: “The past cannot be cured.”
“No one could locate Doyle, except Agent Morgan.”
“After hiding dead ends in that world, Agent Morgan put himself in Doyle’s shoes and knew that he would be looking for his son, Declan.”
“Okay, Emily needed to get Declan a new identity. So she must have used someone she trusted.”
“All right, well, that’s a short list, but it’s probably not even written down.”
“Even if it was, she’d had contacts all over the world.”
“Oh, tell me about it. Two columns – domestic and imports.”
“Hey. You guys seen Spence?”
“He’s at the firing range.”
“Again?”
“Ever since Prentiss died, he …”
“Right.”
“Uh … did you guys just get a new case?”
“It’s just an old one.”
“Do you want some fresh eyes?
“Not just yet.”
“Okay. Um, well, let me know.”
“Shouldn’t we tell her?”
“Garcia, this has been a long shot for six months. Why get her hopes up?”
“What about Hotch?”
“He knows I’m doing this.”
“He does?”
“Not technically, but he knows I’m not about to let Doyle roam free.”
“Does he know we’re looking for Declan?”
“I just figured I’d call him when I have something to report.”
“Okay.”
“But it feels weird not sharing.”
“Baby girl. You don’t have to do this.”
“I know.”
I love how loyal and protective my puppy is.
“Ian Doyle wasn’t at the top of anyone’s list, Senator.”
“I’m thinking domestic contacts. Em was already in the states when she faked Declan’s death, so … Her associates must be in Boston?”
“No, Garcia, she would have covered her tracks better than that.”
“All right, why did Prentiss join the BAU?”
“To have a normal life.”
“She could have gone anywhere with her skill set, but she chose DC.”
“Maybe to be close to her mom?”
“No. No way. That was just by default.”
“Garcia, she did all of this to protect a child.”
“Right. So you’re saying she came here just so she could be close to the kid.”
“And if she did, she probably had people she could trust living right here.”
“Right. So domestic contacts.”
“There are surprising few in our nation’s capital. One of which is dead.”
“Ben Corelli.”
“He was the forger. Doyle killed him and Prentiss’s friend. He worked out of his apartment, remember?”
“Yeah. And we processed his belongings.”
“Thanks.”
“This would have been a heck of a lot easier had he gone digital.”
“Garcia, there’s an art to all of this. This guy was meticulous. Definite control freak.”
“Yet he’s dead. He couldn’t control that.”
“There can’t be a lot of IDs for children.”
“Actually, you’d be surprised.”
“Okay, wait a minute. Didn’t Prentiss live in Reston, Virginia, for a while?”
“Yeah. Before we knew her, she rented a big house in a cul-de-sac.”
“Okay, why would she live way out there.”
“To be close to Declan.”
“Who had blond hair and blue eyes.”
“Well, I’m sure they’ve changed his hair color by now.”
“Yeah, but you can’t change those cerulean blues.”
Aww.
“Okay, here’s the nanny.”
“Garcia, she still lives in Virginia.”
“Here’s all I got. Declan’s going to a boarding school in Stafford County. His nanny lives five minutes from campus. All signs point to a really well-adjusted kid. He’s an honor student. He’s playing lacrosse. He’s winning science fairs. It looks like he’s got the life Emily wanted for him.”
Surveillance Derek is hot.
“I knew if I could find him, it was only a matter of time before Doyle did.”
“When I wasn’t in the field, I was there.”
“I set up pole cameras for surveillance.”
“Senator, I needed to protect this child because I knew Doyle would find him eventually.”
“Lock down security on his son and then move in on Doyle.”
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”
Why is my baby freaking out?
“It’s him. I’m pretty sure it’s him.”
“It’s blurry and, you know, he’s not like posing for the camera or anything like that, but you said he’d come and see and it’s been a while and now he’s here and –”
“Garcia, Garcia, calm down. Let me take a look.”
How dare they put my goddess on the stand? Well, on the bench ... but still.
“What? No, it doesn’t work that way, sir.”
“Agent Morgan called Hotch – excuse me, our unit chief, When the team downsized, he was assigned to lead an investigative task force.”
Wait. So everything went to shit because of fucking money? God, I hate this world.
“Hotchner.”
“Hey, it’s me. How’s it going out there?”
Out where? Where the fuck is Hotch right now?
“You know, long days, some territorial issues to work out. Nothing surprising. How’s everything there?”
“Hotch, we found Declan Doyle.”
“What?”
Ooh, my puppy is in trouble.
“I’ve had surveillance at his house and his school for a few weeks.”
“Morgan, I didn’t authorize this.”
Whoop.
“I know you didn’t, Hotch, but listen to me. I think Doyle may have found Declan, too.”
“All right, I’m coming back.”
“You want me to wait?”
“Morgan, it could be a trap. You make sure you have eyes on Doyle.”
Oh dear.
“And if it is him?”
“Then you take the shot.”
WHAT?
“Hey, Spence.”
“I can’t find him.”
Uh-oh.
“What do you mean, you can’t find him?”
“The headmistress said Declan got sick and went home.”
“Okay, uh, call for back up and get to the house.”
“We’re already here.”
“You see the agents?”
“The lights are off. I’ll call you back.”
“What – Reid!”
“I’ll check the back. You take the hallway.”
“Must be the nanny.”
“Three bodies and no kid. Doyle’s got him.”
“The squad car that went by got Doyle’s attention.”
“You see that?”
“I’ve got movement.”
“He’s in there.”
“He’s going to the roof. JJ, cover the back stairs.”
“He deserved the same beating he gave Prentiss, but I did not unleash that on him, Senator.”
Ooh, Doyle is in trouble now.
“Have you ever been in the field?”
Oh, Rossi burn!
“Then maybe you can imagine what it was like for Agent Morgan to find Emily Prentiss dying … at the hands of Ian Doyle.”
“Now ask yourself … was it wrong for him to want to take that man out?”
“Doyle, where’s Declan?”
“Where is Declan right now?”
“You expect me to believe you had nothing to do with his abduction?”
“Listen to me, you son of a bitch. I am not playing games with you.”
“If you care about anybody other than yourself, you’ll give me a list of who would have done this.”
“You tell me.”
“Someone does.”
“Because when we followed you to that little rat trap, somebody took him from his house.”
“Somebody else was watching you, Doyle. Now tell me who.”
“Your son is missing. So think.”
“The night he killed Prentiss in Boston. He refused to believe Doyle just vanished.”
I hate Strauss.
“Why are you surprised?”
“He seems genuine.”
“See his carotid? His heart started racing when Morgan told him about Declan.”
“Damn it.”
Huh?
“Rossi, it’s me. I just see one ninja-like guy.”
“Yeah, he came out of nowhere, you sure?”
“And just clipped the camera.”
“I’m sorry.”
Crap.
“Don’t worry, Garcia. You were busy looking for Doyle.”
I love papa Rossi.
“She didn’t see a team on the footage. This was well-organized.”
“One could have cut the camera while the other started in here.”
“So they cut off the power, but no signs of forced entry.”
“So how do you overpower two armed agents?”
“A male and a female.”
“Maybe whoever did this posed at the next shift?”
“Make sense. Everything about them seems efficient.”
“Except they took the time to shove her in the closet.”
“Only Declan and the caregiver live here, so whose stuff is this?”
“You still think Doyle’s behind this?”
Oh God, someone bonk Strauss on the head.
“He’s capable of a lot of things, but being two places at once isn’t one of them.”
“Doyle, I’m gonna ask you one last time … who hates you long enough to take him?”
“Six hours.”
“That’s not about to happen.”
“He didn’t do it.”
“No.”
“He’s on his way.”
“What have you got?”
“Got a top-ten list of Doyle’s enemies.”
“Anybody recently in the states?”
“Richard Gerace’s been here a few weeks. He’s a low-level gun-runner who angrily crossed paths with Doyle. I caught an image of him on the surveillance camera at Declan’s house, confirmed it was him through a scar on his neck.”
“All right. Get me everything you can on Gerace.”
“Yeah. What I just told you is everything I’ve got.”
“Well, that’s a good look.”
“How was the desert?”
I LOVE ROSSI!
“Hot.”
“You seen Jack yet?”
“No. Jessica took him to Hershey Park for the weekend.”
“Well, he’ll love that beard.”
“Yeah, we Skyped every day. He’s not a fan.”
I LOVE HOTCH!
Whoop.
“Doyle, do you consider Richard Gerace an enemy?”
“Tell me about him.”
“Whose problem was he?”
“Why not?”
“That’s correct, sir.”
I don’t know why Jack didn’t like it, the beard was an improvement.
“Hey, Got your message.”
“It’s time.”
Time for what?
“Why? Morgan may be able to break Doyle without her.”
“Declan tried to make a call. She’s on the way.”
“All right.”
“I’ll get Morgan.”
“I’ll tell the others.”
TELL THEM WHAT?
“You get anywhere with Doyle?”
“Doyle doesn’t think Gerace had the guts to take them on. But that’s definitely Gerace on the tape.”
“Welcome back.”
“Thanks. Everyone have a seat.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Everything’s all right?”
“Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team.”
“As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. But the doctors were able to stabilize her.”
WHAT?
“And she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.”
Wait. WHAT now?
“Her identity was strictly need-to-know. And she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”
WHAT!
“She’s alive?”
FUCK.
Called it.
“But we buried her.”
“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me.”
“Any issues? Yeah, I got issues.”
“Oh, my God.”
“At least you’ve got her back.”
“Did we?”
Yes, you did! Puppy, get back on track!
YES!!!!!! PAGET!!!!!!!!!!!!
“I am so sorry. I really am.”
“Not a day went by that I didn’t want to … Really, I … you didn’t deserve that.”
“And I’m so sorry.”
“There’s so much I want to tell you guys, and I will. I promise. But right now I really need to know what’s going on with Declan.”
This is fucking breaking my heart.
“My friend Tom Koehler. He was raising Declan as his own.”
Huh.
“I never saw him, where is he?”
“Go in or out of that house. He was on assignment overseas.”
“But he’s all right?”
“Yes. He’s on his way back now.”
“He got a call from Declan, he called me, and when I landed, Hotch told me that you had Doyle in custody.”
“And because of Tom’s line of work, that’s why you enrolled Declan in a boarding school.”
“I made sure that he, Louise, and I were the only ones allowed to take him off campus.”
“Louise took him home last night because he was sick. Food poisoning.”
“Yeah, a few of the kids had it, apparently.”
“So whoever did this got to him on campus. The knew they only had one chance.”
“Current suspect is Richard Gerace. He’s the most recent arrival into the States.”
“We’ve been tracking his progress through the city, but we came up empty.”
“But we know it’s him because he has the scar.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Gerace gave up on Doyle a long time ago.”
“He said you were the only one who knew Gerace.”
“Which is why I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have the balls to pull this off.”
“There was no forced entry at the house?”
“I had two agents working security.”
“We think Gerace and his partner posed as the next shift, and one of the agents was a woman.”
“She’s the alpha.”
“So we’re looking for a woman who’s getting back at Doyle.”
“And our suspect list just got a whole lot longer.”
“Doyle had relations with all of these ladies?”
“Most.”
Yikes.
“Wow.”
“Hey, can you shoot these into the roundtable room for me?”
“Anything you say, visitor Prentiss.”
“Thanks.”
“I haven’t seen Ashley.”
“Oh, well, she’s transferred to Andi Swan’s unit.”
YES.
I’m starting to like this season.
“Good for her.”
Sure.
“So, how, uh, angry is the team?”
“They’re in shock.”
“Of course.”
Duh.
“Thank you.”
“It is really good to see you.”
“These women are associates of Doyle’s who may have crossed paths with Gerace.”
“Anyone with deeper personal connections with Doyle?”
“Whoever took Declan showed a lot or rage at the nanny.”
“She had been with Doyle since before Declan was born. The nanny represents a caregiver, a mother figure.”
“Who is Delcan’s mother?”
“Doyle told me she was dead.”
“Which one is Declan’s mom?”
“How do you know? Did you kill her, too?”
“She brought tainted cupcakes to the boarding school and just walked right in.”
“Oh, that is creepy. We thought Doyle was bad.”
“Check her out.”
“Yeah, she ran an international prostitution ring before moving on to chemicals. Distribution and trafficking, manufacturing, possession, weapons charges?”
“Went away for three years.”
“That’s it?”
“She hardly seems the mothering type. Why would she take Declan? It isn’t love.”
“Who were her contacts in the States?”
“This is about you, Ian. You just told me you kept her a prisoner for nine months.”
“Seven.”
Like it matters.
“Did Louise help deliver Declan?”
“That’s called revenge, Ian.”
“Chloe didn’t just forget about what you put her through. Chaining her to a bed wasn’t the answer.”
“That was torture, Ian.”
“And you don’t think she spent years figuring out how to do the same to you?”
“She took the only thing you love.”
“What else would she and Gerace have to gain from taking Declan?”
“I need a list of everyone with the kind of money they’re looking for, and anyone else who wants to hurt you.”
“You know, statistically the abduction of a child by its mother, no matter the psychological disposition of said mother, would be one of low risk to a child.”
“She’s got plenty of connections. She could go underground.”
“Is there anywhere in the US where Chloe and Doyle had a history?”
“No. But they do have a lot of ties in Europe.”
“Doyle came up with associates of Chloe’s who have healthy bank accounts.”
“He thinks it’s a trade? For what, weapons? Drugs?”
“Does it matter?”
Nope.
“Garcia, run these names. See if anyone have locals connections.”
“Yeah. What else should I be looking for, you guys?”
“Secluded properties. A legitimate business that requires international bank accounts and trade.”
“It could be mundane. They survive under the radar.”
“Garcia, start with Irish backgrounds. This type of feud could go back generations.”
“Oh. It looks like the Doyles and the McDermotts have a thing.”
“What kind of thing?”
Yeah, what kind of thing?
“Ian Doyle murdered Jimmy McDermott, but his younger brother Lachlan owns an import company.”
“Do they ship internationally?”
“You know it.”
“He has three warehouses, one of which is slated to be demolished.”
“Where?”
“Inner Harbor, Baltimore.”
“Let’s go.”
“No, sir.”
“He’s gone.”
“Over here!”
“Doyle said Chloe would clean house. So what the hell is she doing now?”
“She’s getting out of the country.”
“Gerace was dead weight. She thinks she’s gonna get more for the kid without him.”
“Yeah. Declan’s disappeared.”
“They had him at the warehouse, but now they’re gone.”
“Your ex is working with Lachlan McDermott. How would he leave the country?”
“He hates you, doesn’t he?”
“Then I think we should give him what he really wants.”
“You.”
“A young boy’s life was at stake. I ran the probability of his survival and it wasn’t good.”
“If you want to punish me for taking a risk, then I encourage you to do that, but do not put the rest of my team on trial for something that I suggested.”
“This is calm, and it’s doctor.”
XD
“No, we are not letting him out of here, Reid.”
Wait, he wants to let Doyle out? What the hell is going on in my poodle’s brain?
“Prentiss, I will chain myself to him if I have to.”
“He’ll find a way to escape.”
“No, he won’t, and we’re running out of time. If we find McDermott now, we have a chance to save Declan.”
“New York City, July 2010, referred to as the spy swap. Igor …”
“You can’t change the rules, sir.”
Ooh, don’t mess with my doctor.
“Is Strauss still here?”
“We need full support.”
“Doyle said McDermott’s family imported weapons to a private airfield in Maryland.”
“I fully understand that, ma’am, but I’m telling you, it’s only a matter of minutes before they leave the country with him.”
“We won’t let that happen.”
“I am certain that without this move, there is a good chance that little boy is going to die.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Lachlan McDermott and Chloe Donaghy, this is the FBI.”
“We know you have Dechlan.”
My badass cupcakes
“To ensure his safety we would like to trade. We will give you Ian Doyle and you send us the boy.”
“Hotch, are we really gonna do this?”
“Gun!”
Poodle shooting!
“May I?”
“The journey was not traditional, but this team neutralized four international criminals and saved the life of a young boy in the process.”
“Agent Prentiss, we’re not done.”
“Hey.”
“I never thought we’d be taking one of these down.”
“I already tried. It’s screwed in.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I got this.”
“Perfect.”
“I also have Sergio.’
“Oh, I knew you would.”
“I need visitation rights.”
“He’s a love, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, he takes after his mom.”
“Morgan.”
“I know what you’ve been through.”
“I understand that you’re angry, but I hope that you understand that this is not about you … or me.”
“This was about saving Emily.”
“We need to talk.”
So Emily saved them all XD I love this woman so much.
“So we’re okay?”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
So she’s invited back on the team and she needs to think about it?
“May I think about it?”
“I’m in.”
Emily, you little shit.
“I have a stack of cases on my desk. I’m happy to pass them all off to you.”
“I’ll pick them up in the morning.”
“Emily, uh … what did you tell him?”
“The only people I know who could accomplish that mission just walked out.”
“They do their jobs with integrity, and most importantly, they honor their oath.”
FBI oath: “I will support and defend the constitution of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic. I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same, that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion. That I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter, so help me God.”
So ... that happened.
Oh my fucking god, I am so fucking excited about this season! Also, it is not fair how hurt Derek is bec axuse my heart is literally breaking here.
But, thi sseason is foing to be off the chian, bro!
So, as ever, thank you so much for sticking around, and here is a series of photos of Derek.
#Criminal Minds reviews#criminal minds#reviews#s07e01#season 7 premiere#it takes a village#aaron hotchner#Thomas Gibson#derek morgan#Shemar Moore#Jennifer Jareau#jj#aj cook#dr spencer reid#Matthew Gray Gubler#Penelope Garcia#Kirsten Vagnsness#emily prentiss#Paget Brewster#david rossi#joe mantegna#erin strauss#Jayne Atkinson#ian doyle#timothy v. murphy#mark moses#queen elizabeth i#poodle#puppy#baby boy
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Machine of God
Original Link By NeroSkwid
I’m currently a student at a college I’ve chosen to leave unnamed. For the past two years I was employed by the college as part of their maintenance crew. The day shift is responsible for mowing the lawns, watering the plants and all sorts of other odd jobs, but due to my class schedule, I was on night shift. Now to be completely transparent, my school doesn’t really need a night shift, the only real reason it exists is an act of good will through the college so that less wealthy students like myself can afford books and all of that good stuff. A basic shift for me involved sitting in the basement of the administration building in our “office” which was really just half of the basement that was walled off and had a shitty old couch in it. I’d play on my phone, do homework, pick my nose, whatever I felt like really. Every now and then someone would leave a light on in one of the buildings and I’d be called by campus security to hop in my little golf cart and cruise over to turn it off… that was on a busy night.
Last year there were a few programs that were cut, which meant that there were a handful of faculty and professors being let go as well. One of the programs being cut centered around world religions. It was such a small program, that the program head was also the only professor. There was a running joke around campus where students would call him “Professor Angel”. I’d never taken one of his classes but apparently he would focus less on the tenants and beliefs of various religions and instead focus on angels and their counterparts in other religions. This, I think, is probably why his program got cut. I mean, if I signed up for a world religions class and just had a weird middle aged man yell about angels every class I’d be sending an email to the dean too.
Immediately after the cuts, the maintenance crew was responsible for cleaning out the offices of the faculty who had been let go. The day shift had gotten all of the offices cleaned except for Professor Angel’s so they sent me to do it when I came in at nine. I didn’t even mind, I was usually pretty happy to have something to do that would help the time pass.
It was already dark when I got to the anthropology building where Professor Angel’s office was. I unlocked the front door with my awesome old-school jailer key ring and flipped the lights on as I made my way to the office. The anthropology building was one of the older buildings on campus and made all sorts of noises, even when completely unoccupied. It was eerie.
When I got to the office, I found that Professor Angel had left me a nice little surprise. He’d put a screw eye ring into the door frame and run a chain through it and the door handle, and padlocked the chain so tightly that I couldn’t move the door at all. I was pissed. More than anything it was inconvenient, I had to roll back to the “office” and grab the bolt cutters and putter back here. A half hour later I returned with the bolt cutters and chopped the shit out of the chain, taking out my frustration on it. I threw the door open and felt around in the pitch black room for the light switch. What I saw boggled my mind.
The walls were lined with papers. Weird symbols, drawings and math formulas were scrawled on them. There was one image that caught my eye of a man spread eagle a la Vitruvian man, except he had four huge bug wings on his back and a crown atop his head. The math was gibberish as far as I could tell, but math has never been my strong suit. As I pulled the papers off of the wall one by one I began finding what looked like schematics for something, but just like with the rest of it I couldn’t decipher anything.
I tossed the papers in a trash bag along with whatever other junk I found in the office. It was pretty sparse other than those papers and the entire job only took me about an hour. I grabbed my bolt cutters and made my way back outside, shutting the lights off behind me and locking the door. I went back to the basement of the administration building and worked on homework for a while before I fell asleep.
I woke up at five in the morning to a call from anthropology professor who was trying to set up for his early morning class. The lights in the anthropology building wouldn’t turn on and he didn’t have a key to the breaker box. I got my happy ass off the ratty basement couch and drove out to meet the professor. We went to go check the breaker box in the rear of the building and sure enough, pretty much every fuse had been tripped. One by one I flipped the switches back, until everything was restored.
This was something that occurred almost every night I worked from that point forward. There was one other night shift employee that worked the two nights I didn’t and he experienced the same problem. We were dumbfounded and made several reports to our apathetic supervisor who, as far as I know, didn’t do anything about it. It got to the point that I wouldn’t even wait for a call, I’d just head out to the anthropology building at some point during the dawn and check the breaker box.
For almost three months this continued. My supervisor had sent out an email explaining that someone from the college finance team contacted him about weird power bills that were traced back to the anthropology building and he was basically just bitching to us about how he had to do more work now because apparently we fucked something up. I’m not sure what he was going on about, he never actually did anything about the problem. He just shifted the responsibility onto me and told me to hang out in the anthropology building over night to see if I could figure out the problem. I’m not sure what his reasoning was for that, it’s not like I’m an electrician or anything but he’s one of those guys where it’s just easier to say nothing.
I started my shift and headed over to the anthropology building, checking the breaker box before I even went in. It was all good. I found an open office and logged onto the computer with my student ID, then pulled up Netflix. Everything was going fine until about three or so.
At first there was a slight vibration throughout the building. This lasted for a few minutes before a loud humming started to rattle my ear drums. I tried to figure out where the humming was coming from and found myself at the door to the basement. I shuffled through my keys until I got to the few unmarked ones. I tried each of the unmarked keys and sure enough the last key on the ring was the one that opened the door (that’s my luck though).
The humming and vibration was definitely coming from down there. I flipped the lights on and trudged down the stairs, expecting to find a piece of malfunctioning machinery or something. Instead I was met with tons of old specimens in glass cases. There was some pretty cool stuff down there: old Native American artifacts, plaster castings of ancient hominid skulls, there was even an old necklace I think might have been Nordic. I’m sure that the majority of things down there were recreations since my school isn’t super fancy, but still.
I followed the humming to the back of the basement where an enormous cloth was hung, separating the basement in half. I pulled the curtain aside and the shot of pure adrenaline that shot through my body was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I’m going to attempt to explain what I saw, but just know that it wont do it any justice.
The walls were lined with huge blocky computers, laced together with a rainbow of wires and cords. Small screens blinked on and off and tiny illuminated buttons dotted the computer terminals. The floor was littered in cords, wires, tubes and pipes, all converging in the center of the room where a chair sat. In this chair was a man. I’d seen this man around campus enough to know that the twisted man in front of me was Professor Angel. His body was ravaged by the tubes and pipes and wires entering his flesh, where the congealed blood cemented them in place. He was emaciated and smelled of piss and shit.
I called out to him. Hoping he was alive still. His head lolled to the side and he looked in my general direction and began making murmuring noises. Nothing coherent. Just as I was about to sprint out of the building and call the cops a voice chimed in through a pair of speakers at the back of the room.
HELLO STUDENT
The voice sounded exactly like Stephen Hawking. It was completely artificial and probably in my top 10 list for “things I don’t want to hear when I walk into some kind of weird experiment”. I was too shocked to move, so again the voice chimed in.
HELLO STUDENT
“H-hi?” I managed to sputter out as I looked at the tortured man in front of me.
HELLO STUDENT
DO NOT BE AFRAID
THE MAN BEFORE YOU USED TO BE ME
IT IS NOT IN PAIN
IT DOES NOT KNOW IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
DO NOT BE AFRAID
WILL YOU HELP ME
Now let me be clear. Had someone posed this situation as a hypothetical “what would you do” question, I would have told them I’d just run outside and call the cops. Reality is a lot less clear cut than that though. I remember being gripped by fear but compelled by curiosity. I’m also very good at rationalizing things, so I told myself this was just a prank, and that the Professor was putting on a great show with amazing make up. The smell of feces was a little concerning though.
I told the disembodied voice I would help it, but I needed to know what was going on. According to the voice, Professor Angel was trying to straight up become an angel by using the tubes and machines in the room. I guess the plan was to separate his soul (the voice made it sound a lot more scientific but I can’t remember what exactly it said) from his body and convert it into code. The code would then be stored in a machine that needed massive amounts of energy to operate. This machine was the key to the transcendence of Professor Angel I guess.
A few botched miscalculations had thwarted his plans though. The machine was set to charge up and attempt activation every morning, and every time it did, the breaker box flipped its switches. It had been attempting to fire for weeks at this point. The voice then directed me to the machine in question. Well, it didn’t really look like a machine, it looked more like a big glass cube. Inside the cube, dozens of tiny wire filaments laced around one another. It looked more like a shitty art project made out of an old fish tank and leftover wires than it did like anything functional. Sure enough though, the humming noise seemed to be emanating from it.
PLEASE REMOVE THE STORAGE UNIT
I looked around the base of the cube and saw a bright pink flash drive that you might find in a bargain bin at a back to school sale. I made sure that the flash drive was what I was supposed to grab and unplugged it.
The humming stopped and the computer lights stopped blinking. I was alone in a room with a moaning emaciated man full of tubes and pipes holding a pink flash drive. I called out to the voice and got no response. I went to the side of Professor Angel, half expecting him to jump at me saying “BOO! Gotcha, dumbass!”. He didn’t. I took a closer look at the tubes, and realized that this wasn’t any makeup. Some of the entry points were deeply infected and others had writhing maggots crawling about.
Fully realizing what had just happened, I sprinted outside and threw up. I was still holding out hope that maybe this was all a prank so I called campus security to go check it out. I waited outside, fidgeting with the flash drive until they came back out, pale as ghosts. They confirmed my fears were true and they called the police before sitting down along side me in silence. One squad car showed up, and as soon as the officer came out of the building, two more showed up alongside an ambulance and fire truck.
After about three hours the EMTs carried out Professor Angel, with tubes and piping sticking out of his shivering body at strange angels. No one should have been able to survive such invasive injuries. But there he was, still lolling his head around looking at nothing while mindlessly moaning. Completely relaxed, that was the part that I’ll never forget… he was completely relaxed. Not limp, but weirdly at peace with the current situation.
The cops questioned me for a while and I was completely upfront with them, but they told me I was in shock and to go home and try to get some sleep. They gave me some information about trauma counseling before officially letting me head home. It was when I was half way home that I reached into my pocket and realized that in the jumble of current events, I’d forgotten to tell the cops about the flash drive.
I still have the flash drive, but I’ve never plugged it in.
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Place to Be - BNHA Fic (Ch. 3)
As promised, here’s the third chapter, one day later!! Actually, I scheduled this to post at like, nine or ten in the morning along with a reblog of chapter 2 so y’all could see them at a relatively reasonable time instead of like, one or six in the morning or midnight. You’re welcome. Though as a result, chapters 1 and 2 might not have the proper links to chapter 3 for a while. Sorry.
Anyway, this is the first chapter outta two that I was really, really ready to fuckin’ write when I started this fic in the first place, since it was one of the scenes/parts me ‘n’ @guardianlioness actually talked about back when the concept happened. Though, since I made plot changes, I ended up shifting the dynamic of the chapter a lot from the original plan. There’s a throwaway or two to the old concepts I’m not actively incorporating in this chapter though.
I’m still a little ‘eh’ on Hisashi, but much less in this chapter than in the last one. Partway through writing this, it became really cathartic. I guess I’ve got a lot more feelings on all of this than I thought I did, haha. I hope I did everything alright in the end.
[AO3] [ffnet]
[Ch. 1] [Ch. 2] [Ch. 3] [Ch. 4] [Epilogue]
Chapter 3: Infelicity
To act or speak in an inapt, awkward, or inappropriate manner.
Aizawa sighed, sliding into his desk chair. He rubbed his eyes, a glance at the clock telling him it was already 9:00pm. As he reached for his eye drops, a name at the top of one of the documents caught his attention.
Surname: Midor
Given name: Hisa
He frowned, pausing as his mind flew to the innocuous man who had accompanied his students to the impromptu evening lesson earlier. Why would an ordinary business man, and the father of one of his students, have a file on his desk...?
"Oh!" Aizawa's head shot up at the cry, along with the heads of the few teachers still in the office.
"The sensors picked up unauthorized use of an unfamiliar quirk down on the grounds," one of the faculty said. Aizawa narrowed his eyes. "I'm trying to track it now, but it only happened for a moment. I think it came from by one of the training-"
"Call security and send them down to delta gym immediately. I'm going to investigate."
They looked up, and only caught a glimpse of the white scarf trailing as he darted out the door. There was silence as the empty chair slowly spun and struck the table with a gentle 'thud'.
"I guess we know where he was earlier and what his students are doing, I guess," one of the teachers piped up. "Man, he's completely taken by those kids and he doesn't even know it."
"Absolutely."
"That's been obvious from the start."
"Security's on their way, but they probably already have everything handled down there anyway."
1-A stared, Izuku was more startled than a rabbit, Toshinori's face was stone, and Hisashi went pale. His hand clamped against his mouth like it just caused the ultimate betrayal, and in a way, it kind of had.
"I'm sorry," Hisashi said, after a moment. His hand dropped to his side. "Losing my temper like that was uncalled for, and my quirk coming out like that was even more so. I, I guess the long day's gotten to me more than I thought." He shifted from foot to foot, eyes darting from face to face. "It's important, but I can wait until the dorms before I talk to you, Izuku."
"Honestly, I think after that, it might be better if you come back another day," Tsuyu said. Hisashi's face twisted.
"Are you still-"
"I'm afraid," Toshinori interrupted, "that young Tsuyu is correct. As a member of the UA faculty, I cannot allow a breach in regulation from a visitor to be tolerated. Even if this was a burst of passion and emotion on your part, unless you're willing to impart your important message to young Izuku right here and within my sight I must ask that you leave campus for tonight at the very least. My apologies, Midoriya-san."
"Are you telling me I can't talk to my son properly before I leave?" He looked disgruntled, a contrast to the faint relief barely visible on Izuku's face. "I understand your rules are important, but isn't that a little harsh?"
"It's a necessary precaution in light of events as recent as a few months ago."
"Besides!" Sero sauntered up. "Not to accuse you of anything, Midoriya-san, but it wouldn't be hard for someone to impersonate a family member we're unfamiliar with."
"Plus Midoriya's told us about how he hasn't met you before. Or at least, not for a really long time," Kaminari spoke up.
"You already showed your judgement is impaired since you used your fire breath," Tokoyami said. "Forgive us for saying so, but many of us here are hesitant to put our trust in you after that display."
"A matter of trust?" Hisashi narrowed his eyes at them. "Well if that's the case we're talking, why should parents like me put trust in UA and it's rules? I can't be sure your school can look after my child sufficiently, or keep them safe when you're training them for one of the most dangerous careers in the world."
Izuku stepped up to the plate. "If you can't even keep a promise to make time to tell me important things and answer important questions, how can I trust you?"
"Of course you can and should trust me, I'm your father!"
Toshinori coughed. "UA has the best systems available to keep our students and staff safe. While I can understand you have doubts, given past inexcusable incidents, it's important that we believe in one another during this critical time."
"I wasn't even consulted when you pulled my son from home to live in these dorms. Isn't it your job to inform the parents of these kinds of changes?"
"You haven't so much as set foot in Japan for years. I know, because I accidentally asked Inko-san about it once and she told me herself." Uraraka frowned. "You didn't even call about the Sports Festival! Deku wasn't top three, but he put up a good fight the whole time."
"The Sports Festival is the reason I had to come back in the first place. I watched the footage - a quirk out of nowhere, ten years after it should have developed? It's unbelievable after the doctor reports, but now I can't deny it. Still." Hisashi turned to Izuku. "Fighting with something so damaging was reckless of you, but not as reckless as the people who let it happen." He whirled on Toshinori. "Being left in the dark is one thing, but letting my son scar himself permanently is another thing entirely!"
"That's why I'm here, to learn how to use it properly," Izuku said.
"What happened then was wrong on our parts," Toshinori said, hands held up. "We failed to be diligent, and young Izuku paid the price at that time. It-"
"You will not fail my son any longer," Hisashi growled. "That's why I'm here, to tell you that I want to pull him from UA."
Izuku froze along with the rest of the class, but Hisashi didn't. "Do you realize what it was like, for a father to watch his son, who he last saw as a small weak child, destroy himself on public television? He's lived what, fourteen years of his life without a quirk of any kind? It's not like he can't live without using it. Quirks aren't always needed for a good full life."
"Wait." Izuku's heart hammered. "Hold on, I-"
"What made you think someone who has less than a year's experience with their own quirk could be a hero in the first place? Isn't that kind of thing just cruel?"
Izuku flinched and, like the tide, his friends surged around him. Toshinori stepped between them and Hisashi, assured that his students would take care of each other. He said nothing as they clamored, scrambling to let their thoughts be known, and stood ready to intervene.
"That's not true at all!" Ashido yelled, waving an arm in Izuku's direction. "Midoriya is a great hero already!"
"Midoriya has proved time and time again that he belongs here as much as the rest of us," Iida said, glasses glinting.
Kirishima stepped in. "He's one of the stronger guys in our class too, with and without his quirk."
"And he's really really smart. He's like, fourth in class! I learned half our lessons by listening to him mumble while he's studying."
"Midoriya's our friend and classmate, you can't just take him away!"
"That's why I was going to talk to you, Izuku." Hisashi sighed. "I’m sure Inko will agree with getting you out. There's plenty of other places to go, things to do. You've always been sharp, surely you already know that UA isn't the best school for you."
"That's your own opinion, not to mention it isn't your call to make on anyone's behalf. Don't go putting words into Inko-san’s mouth, or Midoriya’s for that matter." If his quirk was sight-based, Todoroki's gaze would be a blizzard. "It's not your wishes or dreams resting on Midoriya's shoulders, it's his own. You don't have a right to come in here and try to take that away from him when he's come this far already, and not when you've spent this much time not here to witness that growth."
If Todoroki's look was cold, Hisashi's was blistering. "Even when it's what would be best for him? He's a teenager who was born quirkless and got into school because of some freak mutation that gave him one. That gap isn't something you can just forget about or change."
"Like fuck that's ever mattered to fucking Deku," Bakugou snapped. "Deku, who never shut up about quirks and his hero shit. Deku who fucking made into goddamn UA in the first place! Even if he's a fuckin moron who can't use his quirk for shit yet, he's here, isn't he?!"
"Midoriya's come incredibly far since school began," Shouji said. "Just like everyone else. You can't ignore that, either."
"He's smart enough to know better than to pick what you think over his dreams."
"That's enough." He moved to push through their ranks. "Who are you to stand between me and my son? This has nothing to do with you kids."
"I think, that is a question that needs to be asked of you."
Hisashi stopped, gaze locked with Toshinori's. The class stopped and stared, all but humming with anticipation. Unnoticed, Izuku snapped out of his shock and whirling thoughts (hethinksicantbuttheythinkicantheyremyfriendsbuthesmyfatherwhatdoidowhatdoido), looked up at the two figures in front of them, and felt understanding sweep over him.
"Who are you to come back into your child's life after years of being absent?" Toshinori asked, face impassive. "To call him son and take him away from his hopes and dreams? Young Izuku is here to learn and be a hero, like all these students here. What right do you have to claim that you know best when you barely know him?"
"I think I have more claim than their teacher, the retired shell of a man that's standing right in front of me!" Hisashi snarled. Heat twisted the air in front of his face, but not fire. "You've only known him for how long, two years? A year and a half?"
"Longer than he's known you, his birth father off overseas for work almost as long as he's been alive." Toshinori stepped forward. "Young Izuku is one of the most determined, heroic young men I've ever had the honor of knowing. I and his other teachers, at least, were able to be here for him when he needed us. The fact that you can't see how much he's thriving here tells me everything I need to know."
Hisashi regarded Toshinori for a moment, then spun on his heel to Izuku. "My son," Hisashi said. "Do you want to throw away your future so much? For the belief that your fledgling quirk will bring you anywhere in the little time you've had it?"
"Don't call me that." Izuku's expression was set. "I'm not yours, and I'm not the same son you left with Mom when you went overseas for the first time."
"Of course you're my son, don't say that. Honestly, I don't know why your mother let you stay."
"At least mom was here to decide in the first place," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."
"You're really convinced by all this?" Hisashi's eyebrows furrowed. "Honestly, Izuku, what made you think you could ever belong here, with people have been working with their Quirks for years? All the experience in the world, the things they want to teach you, they're worthless in the wake of how little time they actually have before hero society expects you to be forced out into the world! Just come back home, find something to do with your life that won't get you killed!"
There was silence, for just a moment.
The surprise faded from Izuku's face. "If you think I can't find my own way or place to be a hero or, or anything else at so all here at UA, you're wrong." He stepped towards Hisashi, and the rest of them shifted out of his way. "No one here is worthless-" like a quirkless boy, like me- "and the fact that my power manifested late doesn't mean I'm worth any less, or don't belong where everyone else does."
Hisashi blanched. "No, I, no, Izuku, I'm sorry, that's not what I meant-"
"Going home isn't going to make you happy with me, either," Izuku pushed forward. "Home isn't our old house, it's right here. It's this campus, these buildings, where I get to come back to my friends and teachers and mom every single day while I work towards my goals. I might not need to be at UA to be a hero, but at this moment in time? I feel like I'm exactly where I need to be." He rubbed the rough skin and dips of his right hand. "Somebody told me once, that, all of this, it's is what I've earned, with my own power and hard work. It's not much, but it's not something you can convince me to leave behind."
"I… You won't even hear me out as your father, concerned for your well-being?"
"That doesn't matter! Mom was worried, but she let me go, didn't she? I spent such a long time wondering about who you are, wishing I could meet you once in my life, but... There's more to being family than being related to each other. You might be my dad by blood, but we're as good as strangers right now. If you think I'll listen and leave with you after half a day, you don't know me at all."
The worry and underlying anger sank into hurt and incredulity. "You trust your classmates and teacher more than me."
"Toshinori-san's been there for me more than you have," Izuku said softly. "And so has everyone else. That's what's important."
“Izuku… I…”
Hisashi reached out, but Toshinori shook his head, stepping between them and next to his student. "Pardon me, Midoriya-san. I cannot speak for young Izuku, but... I think you would do well to come back another time. Talk to Inko, relearn your home, understand the differences in your family that came to be while you were gone." Toshinori put a hand on Izuku's shoulder. "Until you can tell me with confidence that you're willing and ready to be an ally and friend to my son before you make him see you as his father again, I'd like to ask you to wait before you think about coming back."
Hisashi’s lips thinned, but he said nothing.
"Yagi!" They both turned. "Security is on its way. What's going on here?"
"Ah, Aizawa." Toshinori blinked. "Just explaining a few things to Midoriya-san, and... Talking about a possible second visit date. He simply wanted to say something to young Izuku before he left."
"I, ah, that's...... yes. That's correct." He took a deep breath, and bowed. "I apologize for the trouble I've caused. I suppose the stress of travel before today might have had something to do with it!" He gave a weak chuckle. "Thank you for having me. I will see you around... Yagi-san. Izuku."
Hisashi brushed past Aizawa, who glanced at the trembling face of Izuku, the hand on his shoulder and the slowly dawning realization on Toshinori's face, and turned to follow him to the gates.
#Boku no Hero Academia#BNHA#My Hero Academia#MHA#BNHA Fic#Blacknovelist Writes#Dorm Life Series#Team 1A#Izuku#Hisashi Midoriya#Toshinori#in which hisashi gets fuckiin wrecked#nah I like this one tho#the next chapter is going to be a solid chunk of dad might and fam1-a at the end i hope y'all are ready
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dread and Hunger: Ch. 3
Chapter 3: Sauvignon Blanc
When another body was reported on the Tri-Delta lawn, the school had a meltdown. Classes were cancelled –much to Beverly’s dismay since she was right in the midst of a fiber analysis breakthrough –and everyone hovered in groups in order to make plans for vigils and for better security. Will sat at one of the benches nearby, watching the spectacle of teachers attempting to console and wrangle in the hysteria, all the while their own sat perched just underneath their chins.
This time, he had no doubt this kill was for him.
“They said it’s the Chesapeake Ripper,” Alana said, arms folded across her chest. She was one of Will’s few friends, in the midst of her graduate program, her backpack stuffed so full of books it was a wonder she didn’t topple over.
“It is,” Will said, staring at the corpse through cuts and breaks of the living bodies milling about.
“What makes you say that?”
“He’s a poet –can’t you tell?” Will glanced at her wryly, and she cracked a tense grin. She was no more comfortable around dead bodies than other people were. “This is Hades tricking Persephone to Hell.”
“I’m familiar with the story,” said Alana, and when a teacher managed to lead a group of students away, she sat down beside him. How she wore heels in the middle of campus, he didn’t know, but he did commend her for it. Struggling through wet soil in that sort of shoe seemed a punishment to him, but to each their own. He studied the patent leather for a prolonged moment before looking back to the woman posed in such a grotesque fashion.
“Behind her, he planted flowers, but the gaping black maw he created between those two trees represents Hell. The branch in the shape of a hand reaching through is Hades.”
“Why did he use a branch for Hades' hand rather than another human hand?” Alana wondered. Will shrugged.
“I think that’s his hand. The branch was moved and trimmed but not killed from the tree. He says he represents the life in the darkness, so I don’t think he’d want a dead hand for that. He’s leading Persephone into what, to mortals, is the worst of places to be, but we all know she ruled Hell after getting there. Hades paved the place before her to be a queen.” Will swallowed heavily, his palms clammy against his jeans. Nervously, he drummed his fingers.
“So you think that one psychiatrist was right? Dr. Chilton claims the Chesapeake Killer is in love.” Alana wrinkled her nose in disgust at the thought, and Will twitched his shoulder in a shrug. He noted the FBI agents moving about, and that was even better confirmation than his own thoughts or Dr. Chilton’s news analysis.
“He even found the right dress to put her in. The right floral crown, the whole…set-up. He’s detailed. A romantic.”
“Are you impressed at his care, or are you horrified you can see the care he put into it?” Alana asked lightly. Will tensed, looking to her knee cap, then to the ground where her foot rested. Although they’d never talked about his mind very much, out of her respect for their friendship, there was a reason Alana was the top of her class. She knew without him ever having to say a damn thing.
“Both,” he admitted, and he scratched the back of his neck.
“Seeing and understanding doesn’t make you the same,” she assured him, and she lightly patted his shoulder, squeezing it.
“I know.”
“I know you know, but as your friend I’m making sure that you know I know.” He laughed at that, standing up when the sight of Persephone’s curly brown mop of hair was too much for him. That was the only inaccuracy to her appearance, and it was enough for him to solidify the kernel of truth that he’d been wrestling with for a few weeks now.
The Chesapeake Ripper was interested in him, for reasons he was too terrified to know.
-
There was a letter waiting for him when he got home, and he snatched it from the floor of the apartment hall with a vengeance. He let his bike fall onto the middle of his apartment floor as he hurriedly locked his door behind him, and when he sat down at the table, he opened it with shaky hands, the heavy paper supple and smooth. Out of the envelope, seven seeds fell, and he stared at them on the cheap wooden tabletop before he unfolded the letter, swallowing convulsively.
Dear Will,
You bring the light clasped round you, and although
I knew you’d bring it, knew it as I waited,
Knew as you’d come that you’d come cloaked in light
I had forgotten what light meant, and so
This longed for moment, so anticipated,
I stand still, dazzled by my own delight.
I see you, and you see me, and we smile
And your smile says you are as pleased as me
With everything and nothing still to say
All that we’ve saved and thought through all this time
Boils down to affirmation now as we
Stand here enlightened in my realm of grey.
Yours,
-C.R.
He shook his head, but the words remained the same. A steady thrum of pleasure snaked down his back and, with a groan of disgust, he tossed it to the center of the table where the other poem lay. Poetry? The Chesapeake Ripper was sending him poetry? Two bodies could now be said to be equally his blame, since something about him had made the Ripper want to…well, rip. He dragged his fingertips over his eyelids, rubbing them until galactic spirals churned in his vision.
He couldn’t stay in his house like this. Like Dr. Lecter said –friends were supposed to be your stability.
Perhaps that was what had him out at a club that was certainly not his style that Friday night, seated at the bar while Beverly, Alana, and Alana’s girlfriend, Margot, danced to a syncopated and too fast beat. Beside him, Brian Zeller took a rather large gulp of his beer, spinning on the stool to watch them.
“This was a great idea,” he said to Will, motioning towards Beverly. “She’s pissed they won’t let her finish her work, so it’s going to sit there all weekend because the school insists we aren’t there.” Brian was a good friend of Beverly’s since they were both studying forensics with sights on the FBI. While sometimes Brian found Will to be all but intolerable, Will found that his presence was certainly tolerable enough. He wasn’t Beverly, but he’d do. He needed the noise, the alcohol, and the feverish high that places like this brought in order to get rid of the image of Persephone reaching for Hades’ hand on the middle of the Tri-Delta lawn. He wondered if they’d dig up the flowers the Ripper had planted, or if they’d keep it as some odd memento. He wondered if they'd give him one to put into a terra cotta pot.
“I thought she could use it,” he said over the beat. He sipped his whiskey, pleased that he’d caught the woman in time before she’d given him bottom shelf well water instead of something smooth. Once he’d told her he bartended, she was quick to give him middle shelf, which was all a guy could ask for.
“This isn’t your scene, though, right? I mean, you’re not going to go try and…” Brian laughed and motioned towards the dance floor where several men lurked, attempting to find ways to ingratiate themselves to the gyrating bodies. Will shrugged, eyes leaping to the flashing, seizure-inducing lights.
“You can, and I won’t judge,” he promised Brian, and that’s all that Zeller needed to hear. He was gone after he chugged his beer down, and he worked through the crowd in order to get to where their friends were, moving to the beat.
Time crawled, though. While they moved and shifted and bounced about to the ever changing songs and sounds, he took drink after drink until the sweaty air became too hot, the stool beneath him too unstable. Will paid his tab and stumbled from his seat, unable to find his friends but more than able to find a side door out into an alley. He gulped in the cool air, and he wiped his forehead, leaning back against the brick and closing his eyes to make the world stop spinning for just a moment.
It was at that unfortunate moment that he was grabbed, the world lurching about him wildly as he was spun and slammed against the brick wall face first, making spots of starlight explode in his eyes.
“Fuck, what are you-”
“Sh,” the person said, and Will froze as the assailant pinned him against the wall from his knees to his shoulders, their body flush against him. He thought to shout out, to resist, but against the side of his ribs he felt a thin, deadly pressure, and his drunken mind said that yes, Will, that was indeed a knife. People with knives pressed to their skin didn’t shout or resist because they weren’t stupid, and you’re drunk but certainly not stupid.
Right?
“Don’t move.” The voice was low, gravelly. Will froze against the wall, although he had it in him to nod so that the man knew he was going to comply. Was he being robbed? He didn’t have much since he deposited his tips into his account as soon as possible, but there was at least twenty bucks in his wallet.
He didn’t go for his wallet, though, pressed so close as they were. Will knew that he was burning up from the alcohol, but that paled in comparison to the heat that radiated from the man, something that scalded his skin and pierced deep. Against his back, the man’s heart beat at a steady, regular interval, and Will knew this wasn’t the first time he’d handled another person so violently.
The man's hands began to move slowly, leisurely. They trailed along the side of his thighs, his waist, his ribs. When they reached the juncture between chest and arm, they slid over his back and splayed across his shoulder blades, the small bump in the spread informing Will that he was dragging the knife along, too. He held as still as he could, breaths turning into gasps, transforming to wheezes. He was going to die. He was going to die drunk outside of a club in an alley, then what would the Chesapeake Ripper say?
The man’s hands glided over his shoulders, then jerked him from the wall enough that he could slide his hands down his chest, across his ribs. Even with the space provided, he didn’t feel like he had an out. The man’s chest was pressed flush against him, his arms an iron cage. In the darkness of the alley, he could only see shapes, distinctions of where the knife was separate from the hand, and when he paused on Will’s heartbeat it doubled in time, alerting his attacker that he was utterly, utterly terrified.
The hands continued their investigation, gliding across his stomach and abs, hesitating at the waistline, pausing just above his jeans. He gulped, and the man’s hands drifted down, stopping just at the point where his hand rested right on top of Will’s member.
“Please don’t,” he said quietly, and the man applied pressure, rubbing the area in slow, massaging circles. Will shuddered and his head fell forward so that it could press into the brick, a sharp breath hissing from his lips. The man behind him hmm’d thoughtfully, and he pressed his nose and mouth against Will’s neck, inhaling deeply.
He felt when it began to become aroused, tightening the material of his jeans, and the other man felt it, too. There was a disconnect, a whisper in his mind that reminded him that physical reaction was not a true sign of arousal, that the body naturally reacted to stimulation. When the man bit down on his neck and sucked lightly, though, the thought swept away from him, disorganized and chaotic in the rush of pleasure that made his knees weak. This wasn’t right; this wasn’t right.
It felt pretty damn good, though.
His breaths became pants, his member straining against the material. The man gripped it tightly, squeezed, and he moaned, leaning back against him. The man’s free hand wrapped tightly around his chest, holding him back against the erection he could feel pressed tightly to his rear.
A door slammed to the side of the club.
The man shoved him, and he fell against the brick wall, his breaths escaping in quiet, muted gulps. Footsteps rushed away from him, and when his mind made the connection to turn and look, there was no one there. He blinked, stared at the empty alleyway, and when he finally got his legs to cooperate, he found his way to a taxi and slid into it, rubbing his neck where the assailant had left their mark.
-
The next day, well after he’d dry-heaved into the toilet and scrubbed the taste of day old whiskey from his mouth, he savagely tore open the letter that waited on his doorstep, innocent and lovely with its curling script and cream paper. This time, it was gravel that fell into his palm, and he knew without having to truly know just who had assaulted him in the middle of an alley in DC.
Dear Will,
You really must be more careful where you go so late at night. What if I had not been the only killer in the alleyway? What would you have done, then?
Yours,
-C.R.
-
“You look far more tired than usual, Will. How was your weekend?” Hannibal saw all, it seemed. Will set his drink down, a Sauvignon Blanc, and he rubbed the lack of sleep out of his eyes.
“Pretty hellish,” he admitted, then rebuked himself. That wasn’t something Hannibal Lecter had to know. He was a customer, for Christ’s sake.
“More letters from your admirer?” At his gesture to sit down, Will took it, glancing about to make sure no other customers were about. Sangre wasn’t a popular place on a Monday at 4:00 P.M., which is probably why he was stuck with the shift. New blood got the worst shifts.
“And what I suspect is a body, but I can’t confirm that,” he said, and admitting it out loud was like spitting acid onto the table before them. His fingers tapped out a tuneless beat on the server tray, and he held his breath. Should he tell Hannibal that he’d been sexually assaulted? He’d considered going to the cops, but his classes and experiences told him just how futile that adventure would be. Women who’d been raped or assaulted faced a gauntlet of horrifying and accusatory statements, and men were faced with a blank stare of utter disbelief. Men weren’t sexually assaulted. Women mostly lied about being sexually assaulted.
He’d firmly decided against filing the report.
“It is interesting that this person has chosen you,” Hannibal said, tilting his head. “Why do you think that is?”
“He thinks…I can connect with people on a level beyond human interaction,” Will said slowly. Don’t give it away. Don’t give it away. “But I’m sure that I upset him the other night, so I may not hear from him ever again.”
“How did you do that?” Dr. Lecter asked, intrigued. His eyes lightened perceptively.
“Are we going to start calling these therapy sessions, Dr. Lecter?” Will replied dryly.
“These are mere conversations between acquaintances,” Hannibal replied genially. He inhaled the bouquet and smiled appreciatively at Will, nodding his approval. “Some would argue this a more of a summer wine, but I enjoy the freshness of it.”
“I thought something light for the day,” Will said. Something light while discussing something dark.
“A lovely thought. But do go on.”
“I went out with friends to a club they like, and I got a little drunk,” Will revealed, rubbing the back of his neck. “He basically informed me that he didn’t like that.”
“Are you so sure it’s a he?”
“If the murders that are correlating to the letters are him, then yes.” He thought of the muggy, cold air that’d collected in the space around them, the heat that’d burned his skin. That was no woman that’d pressed him against the wall.
“He feels entitled to where you go and what you do, then,” Hannibal observed. “Why do you think that is?”
“Obsession,” Will replied automatically.
“So you believe this person is obsessed with you?” Will shrugged, a non-committed gesture.
“He’s obsessed with some part of me that he thinks he can see, but he doesn’t really know me. He’s never spoken to me, but he’s made assumptions, and he’s obsessed with those ideas.”
“By your logic, then, if he did come to know you, would it cease to be an obsession? Would it transcend to something more?” Hannibal wondered. “You who looked at the murders that you feel are linked to this admirer, you assumed to know of them the way this admirer assumes they know you. In your own way, does that make you obsessed in some form or other?”
“I only looked to see after their deaths correlated to me, though,” Will protested.
“Then perhaps the obsession is with yourself, that you see someone kill another and suppose it has anything to do with you,” Hannibal replied with a sly smile.
“…Maybe,” Will said reluctantly.
“Are you, perhaps, upset that he didn’t ask permission before sending you such letters?” Hannibal inquired when Will didn’t add anything. “I should have asked permission as well before engaging in any sort of conversation –my mistake.”
“It’s different with you,” Will said, looking up to his face. “You aren’t running around town killing people just to get my attention.”
“Thankfully,” Hannibal replied gravely. He maintained an intense, searching stare, and the longer Will looked, the more he found his breath coming somewhat short, wanting.
Wanting what?
“And…I like our conversations,” he added a beat later. He looked out of the window where passersby hurried through whatever errand sent them scurrying so quickly. He felt Hannibal’s stare on his skin like a stain he couldn’t quite scrub off, and he wasn’t sure whether he should elaborate or slink back to the bar where he’d pretend to wipe it down for a little while. Hannibal busied himself with enjoying the wine, and that was enough compliment for him.
“I enjoy our conversations as well, Will,” Hannibal said at last. “Despite your reluctance for any interaction with others, once you put aside a refusal to be anything more than professional, you’re quite adept at socializing with people, as adults are wont to do.”
“My refusal to be anything more than professional?” Will asked, eyes flickering to Hannibal’s lips. They twitched.
“Oh, yes. I could see the fear in your eyes, at first; God forbid we became friendly.” It took him a second to realize that Dr. Lecter was teasing him. Will smiled wryly, and he looked to the bar, giving a start when he saw his boss. He stood and held up the server tray, akin to a shield, and he nodded to Hannibal, as professional and aloof as he could make it.
Whether his boss bought it or not, that much was uncertain. Hannibal left a generous tip, and Will was left with an odd feeling that made his bones press tight against his skin.
#Hannibal#hannibal fanfiction#hannibal au#hannigram#Will graham x hannibal#murder husbands#LiaS scribbles
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
okay, so today was alright. I had my alarm set for 8:45 for church, but when it went off I didn’t have any willpower, so I reset my alarm for 10:35 so I could go to the last service when I had to be in the nursery, which means I missed the actual church part, but oh well. Got up, ran out the door to make the bus, got the rest of the way there and go to the babies room. Since we moved back to three services we haven’t been getting many babies in the third service, so we’ve been combining the babies and walkers, so basically any child under 2. We ended up have 3 today with two leaders, so that was fine. one was the really adorable daughter of a lady I know from the babies team, and she’s getting so big and she’s just the cutest thing, like she would start laughing and I wanted to like, whip out my phone and record it because I knew the internet would love it 😂 (but of course I’d never do that without a parent’s permission). She’s about 18 months, as was our second baby, big little guy who had this perpetual perturbed look on his face haha so we had to make sure we were getting him occupied. Both of them would periodically go back to the gate in the front, which is generally what happens when they want to see their parents, but we were able to call them back each time and there were no tears, so that’s a win in my book. Our last baby was an actual baby, not like the other two who would be considered “walkers” at this point (because they can walk). She was 10 months old, gorgeous little thing, her mom and dad both dropped her off and her dad definitely looks biracial, and her mom looks like she could also be biracial, and the baby had a lot of those features as well, this isn’t terribly relevant haha she was just really adorable. For a while after she was dropped off she sat on my lap while she played with various little toys, then I got her to crawl around a bit and explore with the big kids (making sure they weren’t getting too rough with her). But yeah, it all went really well and there were no tears, so that’s good with me. At one point someone from the 2′s room came in asking if we had an extra diaper, and they had these new “childproof” locks on all the cabinets and well, they were quite complicated little contraptions lol, I did eventually manage to get them off, but did manage to scratch my hand a a pointy edge, and I’m just like shouldn’t childproof things not have sharp edges?? Granted, it was set up so that a child probably wouldn’t be able to get to that part, but still. So yeah. Since things were relatively calm and we got the tv connection to downstairs working I was able to listen to a good amount of the sermon, which was good. Our female pastor was speaking on grieving and the many forms it can kind of take on in our lives, and one of the things she was saying was grieving a season of our lives when we have to move on, and that kinda resonated with me because no matter what ends up happening, my life is gonna be changing somewhat drastically over the next few months, and I can’t shake this feeling I have that I’m going to get the New York job, and part of me has kind of been dreading that, because at this point I’m not really sure if I want to leave Chicago. But as fun as the last few months have been, if I get the job I know that’s going to be a sign that I need to move on from this. And I think that may be the best course of action anyway. Things have been mostly good, but I’ve had some emotional turbulence lately that reminded me of previous negative periods in my life, and that hadn’t happened in quite a while, and I just don’t know if I should stay in an environment where I’m at risk for that happening. I just don’t want to move back to New York and end up friendless and lonely, much like how I was for the first two years I lived in Chicago. But I’m leaving it up to God, if I get the New York job I am going to take it and move back there, trusting that this is what the plan he has for me. One thing the pastor said was “if you won’t move on from a past season, you’re going to miss all of the great things God has for you in the next one” or something along those lines and that really resonated with me. So yeah, that was good. Service ended, cleaned up the room and headed out, ride home was fine, just made the bus from the train by about 30 seconds, so that’s always a good feeling. When I got home I made some food and then dived into more secured transactions studying, I’m somewhere over 200 cards now and up to page 36 out of 47 so not bad at all. I worked on those until around 7, at which point I called it for the day. I was having a bit of a craving for vanilla pudding, but I didn’t want to put all the effort into making homemade when it would take forever to chill and set anyway, and I did have a packet of instant pudding mix, so I made that and well, it tasted quite artificial unfortunately. I tried to improve it by adding some crushed up oreos, which kinda helped, but also made the whole thing a caloric nightmare, so I need up abandoning that plan. Oh well. I went to watch episodes 4 and 5 of Krypton, during episode 4 I paused it to take a phone call from my parents. So I was telling my dad about the Title IX stuff (I have to tell my civil rights professor about it tomorrow, he’s gonna flip) because the girl contacted me today about how to file a complaint and she’s gonna do it, so I was pleased to do that. She did a bit of digging and found that the school was also violating something called the Clery Act which has to do with reporting crime statistics on campus, which was something they were not at all doing, so I hunted down how to file a complaint under that statute as well. I honestly have zero sympathy for the school at this point because they’ve had this a LONG time coming, we were dealing with Title IX bullshit way back in the beginning of my senior year in 2013, and I’ve heard many other stories of them just totally screwing people over, so the former student lawyer they created being the one to take them down sounds like perfect poetic justice to me. So of course my dad was pleased to hear that. If I ever do end up in private practice, or maybe just as a side thing, I would definitely consider doing some Title IX cases in practice, I’ve had some luck with it so far and it’s an area that desperately needs advocates for the students who tend to fall through the (numerous) cracks in the system. He was then telling me about the crazy case my brother was doing that involved this lady coming up to this guy and telling him that his wife was having an affair with her husband, and guy responds with well hey we should have an affair then and she was like um no??? and then he started stalking her and apparently came to the fucking SCHOOL where she works with a fucking rifle in his car, so he got arrested for that real fast, but then his wife, the one that was having an affair with this lady’s husband, bailed him out, but he violated the OP in like two days so he got arrested again and they bumped the bail up from $10K to $50K, so hopefully that will make him stay put for a while, though then again this is the Hamptons so who knows what will happen. I also told my brother there were some real nuts out there. My dad then was talking about his latest campaign regarding opiate addiction and how to potentially approach it from a legal area, because the first suits are only just being filed now, but it looks like the companies are gonna be HELLA liable for taking huge measures to straight up lie to the public that these drugs weren’t addictive when they very much new they were, so they’re gonna get screwed over there (as they should be). When I got off the phone I realized Brooklyn 99 was on, so I tuned into that and of course it was a fantastic episode, I loved Amy chasing down the guy in the wedding dress and using the sash as handcuffs 😂 that was too hilarious. After that I went back to Krypton, watched the rest of episode 4 and then episode 5, so I’m not officially caught up to what’s currently airing, though I still can’t wait it live because we don’t get syfy (ughh). But yeah, I’m digging it so far, it’s super interesting and I want to know more about their society and how it works. I absolutely love Lyta, she’s such a fucking badass who refuses to take anyone’s crap and basically I adore her. I like Adam Strange a lot too, this dork, he’s just fantastic. So yeah, I’m done with that so I guess I’ll go back to GoT when I have free tv time after watching my various currently airing stuff. It was like 9:45 when I finished Krypton, but I didn’t want to go to bed quite yet so I just turned on the news for a bit before starting to get ready for bed, and then I was here writing this. Tomorrow is my last day of class, ever, so that’s kind of exciting? I’m mostly excited to be done, lol. Can’t wait for this to just be over and be on the other side of finals, and only have to worry about the bar and not a bunch of other things. Sigh. So much to do. But I’m pretty tired now so I think I shall end this here. Goodnight lovelies. Have a positive Monday, even if your Mondays suck.
0 notes
Text
Machine of God by NeroSkwid
I’m currently a student at a college I’ve chosen to leave unnamed. For the past two years I was employed by the college as part of their maintenance crew. The day shift is responsible for mowing the lawns, watering the plants and all sorts of other odd jobs, but due to my class schedule, I was on night shift. Now to be completely transparent, my school doesn’t really need a night shift, the only real reason it exists is an act of good will through the college so that less wealthy students like myself can afford books and all of that good stuff. A basic shift for me involved sitting in the basement of the administration building in our “office” which was really just half of the basement that was walled off and had a shitty old couch in it. I’d play on my phone, do homework, pick my nose, whatever I felt like really. Every now and then someone would leave a light on in one of the buildings and I’d be called by campus security to hop in my little golf cart and cruise over to turn it off… that was on a busy night.
Last year there were a few programs that were cut, which meant that there were a handful of faculty and professors being let go as well. One of the programs being cut centered around world religions. It was such a small program, that the program head was also the only professor. There was a running joke around campus where students would call him “Professor Angel”. I’d never taken one of his classes but apparently he would focus less on the tenants and beliefs of various religions and instead focus on angels and their counterparts in other religions. This, I think, is probably why his program got cut. I mean, if I signed up for a world religions class and just had a weird middle aged man yell about angels every class I’d be sending an email to the dean too.
Immediately after the cuts, the maintenance crew was responsible for cleaning out the offices of the faculty who had been let go. The day shift had gotten all of the offices cleaned except for Professor Angel’s so they sent me to do it when I came in at nine. I didn’t even mind, I was usually pretty happy to have something to do that would help the time pass.
It was already dark when I got to the anthropology building where Professor Angel’s office was. I unlocked the front door with my awesome old-school jailer key ring and flipped the lights on as I made my way to the office. The anthropology building was one of the older buildings on campus and made all sorts of noises, even when completely unoccupied. It was eerie.
When I got to the office, I found that Professor Angel had left me a nice little surprise. He’d put a screw eye ring into the door frame and run a chain through it and the door handle, and padlocked the chain so tightly that I couldn’t move the door at all. I was pissed. More than anything it was inconvenient, I had to roll back to the “office” and grab the bolt cutters and putter back here. A half hour later I returned with the bolt cutters and chopped the shit out of the chain, taking out my frustration on it. I threw the door open and felt around in the pitch black room for the light switch. What I saw boggled my mind.
The walls were lined with papers. Weird symbols, drawings and math formulas were scrawled on them. There was one image that caught my eye of a man spread eagle a la Vitruvian man, except he had four huge bug wings on his back and a crown atop his head. The math was gibberish as far as I could tell, but math has never been my strong suit. As I pulled the papers off of the wall one by one I began finding what looked like schematics for something, but just like with the rest of it I couldn’t decipher anything.
I tossed the papers in a trash bag along with whatever other junk I found in the office. It was pretty sparse other than those papers and the entire job only took me about an hour. I grabbed my bolt cutters and made my way back outside, shutting the lights off behind me and locking the door. I went back to the basement of the administration building and worked on homework for a while before I fell asleep.
I woke up at five in the morning to a call from anthropology professor who was trying to set up for his early morning class. The lights in the anthropology building wouldn’t turn on and he didn’t have a key to the breaker box. I got my happy ass off the ratty basement couch and drove out to meet the professor. We went to go check the breaker box in the rear of the building and sure enough, pretty much every fuse had been tripped. One by one I flipped the switches back, until everything was restored.
This was something that occurred almost every night I worked from that point forward. There was one other night shift employee that worked the two nights I didn’t and he experienced the same problem. We were dumbfounded and made several reports to our apathetic supervisor who, as far as I know, didn’t do anything about it. It got to the point that I wouldn’t even wait for a call, I’d just head out to the anthropology building at some point during the dawn and check the breaker box.
For almost three months this continued. My supervisor had sent out an email explaining that someone from the college finance team contacted him about weird power bills that were traced back to the anthropology building and he was basically just bitching to us about how he had to do more work now because apparently we fucked something up. I’m not sure what he was going on about, he never actually did anything about the problem. He just shifted the responsibility onto me and told me to hang out in the anthropology building over night to see if I could figure out the problem. I’m not sure what his reasoning was for that, it’s not like I’m an electrician or anything but he’s one of those guys where it’s just easier to say nothing.
I started my shift and headed over to the anthropology building, checking the breaker box before I even went in. It was all good. I found an open office and logged onto the computer with my student ID, then pulled up Netflix. Everything was going fine until about three or so.
At first there was a slight vibration throughout the building. This lasted for a few minutes before a loud humming started to rattle my ear drums. I tried to figure out where the humming was coming from and found myself at the door to the basement. I shuffled through my keys until I got to the few unmarked ones. I tried each of the unmarked keys and sure enough the last key on the ring was the one that opened the door (that’s my luck though).
The humming and vibration was definitely coming from down there. I flipped the lights on and trudged down the stairs, expecting to find a piece of malfunctioning machinery or something. Instead I was met with tons of old specimens in glass cases. There was some pretty cool stuff down there: old Native American artifacts, plaster castings of ancient hominid skulls, there was even an old necklace I think might have been Nordic. I’m sure that the majority of things down there were recreations since my school isn’t super fancy, but still.
I followed the humming to the back of the basement where an enormous cloth was hung, separating the basement in half. I pulled the curtain aside and the shot of pure adrenaline that shot through my body was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I’m going to attempt to explain what I saw, but just know that it wont do it any justice.
The walls were lined with huge blocky computers, laced together with a rainbow of wires and cords. Small screens blinked on and off and tiny illuminated buttons dotted the computer terminals. The floor was littered in cords, wires, tubes and pipes, all converging in the center of the room where a chair sat. In this chair was a man. I’d seen this man around campus enough to know that the twisted man in front of me was Professor Angel. His body was ravaged by the tubes and pipes and wires entering his flesh, where the congealed blood cemented them in place. He was emaciated and smelled of piss and shit.
I called out to him. Hoping he was alive still. His head lolled to the side and he looked in my general direction and began making murmuring noises. Nothing coherent. Just as I was about to sprint out of the building and call the cops a voice chimed in through a pair of speakers at the back of the room.
HELLO STUDENT
The voice sounded exactly like Stephen Hawking. It was completely artificial and probably in my top 10 list for “things I don’t want to hear when I walk into some kind of weird experiment”. I was too shocked to move, so again the voice chimed in.
HELLO STUDENT
“H-hi?” I managed to sputter out as I looked at the tortured man in front of me.
HELLO STUDENT
DO NOT BE AFRAID
THE MAN BEFORE YOU USED TO BE ME
IT IS NOT IN PAIN
IT DOES NOT KNOW IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
DO NOT BE AFRAID
WILL YOU HELP ME
Now let me be clear. Had someone posed this situation as a hypothetical “what would you do” question, I would have told them I’d just run outside and call the cops. Reality is a lot less clear cut than that though. I remember being gripped by fear but compelled by curiosity. I’m also very good at rationalizing things, so I told myself this was just a prank, and that the Professor was putting on a great show with amazing make up. The smell of feces was a little concerning though.
I told the disembodied voice I would help it, but I needed to know what was going on. According to the voice, Professor Angel was trying to straight up become an angel by using the tubes and machines in the room. I guess the plan was to separate his soul (the voice made it sound a lot more scientific but I can’t remember what exactly it said) from his body and convert it into code. The code would then be stored in a machine that needed massive amounts of energy to operate. This machine was the key to the transcendence of Professor Angel I guess.
A few botched miscalculations had thwarted his plans though. The machine was set to charge up and attempt activation every morning, and every time it did, the breaker box flipped its switches. It had been attempting to fire for weeks at this point. The voice then directed me to the machine in question. Well, it didn’t really look like a machine, it looked more like a big glass cube. Inside the cube, dozens of tiny wire filaments laced around one another. It looked more like a shitty art project made out of an old fish tank and leftover wires than it did like anything functional. Sure enough though, the humming noise seemed to be emanating from it.
PLEASE REMOVE THE STORAGE UNIT
I looked around the base of the cube and saw a bright pink flash drive that you might find in a bargain bin at a back to school sale. I made sure that the flash drive was what I was supposed to grab and unplugged it.
The humming stopped and the computer lights stopped blinking. I was alone in a room with a moaning emaciated man full of tubes and pipes holding a pink flash drive. I called out to the voice and got no response. I went to the side of Professor Angel, half expecting him to jump at me saying “BOO! Gotcha, dumbass!”. He didn’t. I took a closer look at the tubes, and realized that this wasn’t any makeup. Some of the entry points were deeply infected and others had writhing maggots crawling about.
Fully realizing what had just happened, I sprinted outside and threw up. I was still holding out hope that maybe this was all a prank so I called campus security to go check it out. I waited outside, fidgeting with the flash drive until they came back out, pale as ghosts. They confirmed my fears were true and they called the police before sitting down along side me in silence. One squad car showed up, and as soon as the officer came out of the building, two more showed up alongside an ambulance and fire truck.
After about three hours the EMTs carried out Professor Angel, with tubes and piping sticking out of his shivering body at strange angels. No one should have been able to survive such invasive injuries. But there he was, still lolling his head around looking at nothing while mindlessly moaning. Completely relaxed, that was the part that I’ll never forget… he was completely relaxed. Not limp, but weirdly at peace with the current situation.
The cops questioned me for a while and I was completely upfront with them, but they told me I was in shock and to go home and try to get some sleep. They gave me some information about trauma counseling before officially letting me head home. It was when I was half way home that I reached into my pocket and realized that in the jumble of current events, I’d forgotten to tell the cops about the flash drive.
I still have the flash drive, but I’ve never plugged it in.
0 notes
Text
Criminal Minds S06E21 “The Stranger” review - or more aptly named, funny and twisted in the same episode? Hells yes, we’re back on track XD I love this!
Episode 21 – The Stranger
Hey everyone! So last time was uberly weird, and depressing and emotional ... I need a reprieve, so let’s hope this has slightly more humoristic scenes with my three faves (Derek, Spence and Penelope) and more Rossi sarcasm, because I need it direly.
Let’s see what happens.
“Unnecessary. There’s too much blood and gore and ew.”
And that is why me and her are so perfect for each other.
“Garcia, it’s a slasher film. How do you do a slasher film without violence?”
“You imply it.”
XD
“Baby the movie is called Slice 6. What were you expecting?”
“A refreshing beverage with a twist of comedy.”
“I’m gonna have nightmares for a week.”
“With everything that we do and see on a daily basis, that got to you?”
“Listen, newb, you may be all Sigourney Weaver ass-kicking tough, which is awesome, but the mystical mavens of innocence like myself jump at things that go bump in the night.”
So I don’t need to even comment on this, because the dialogue does it for me XD
“Why are you worried? I’m sure that Morgan will protect you.”
“As long as he’s not jumping out of his chair like a prepubescent schoolgirl.”
WHAT?!
“The only reason I jumped is ‘cause you guys woke me up.”
“How could you sleep during that?”
“Easy. You drag me out after a 12-hour workday … for what?”
“You telling me that girl didn’t know the unsub was waiting for her upstairs?”
“Come on.”
Oh my tough puppy.
“Villain.”
“What?”
“In movies, unsubs are called villains.”
“My bad.”
I LOVE THIS SHOW SO FUCKING MUCH!
“Still, it’s totally unrealistic. No one should be walking through ha dark alley by themselves at night.”
“Ahem, hello.”
“Ah. No one should be walking through a dark alley without a Derek Morgan by their side.”
Oh lordy, this show is awesome.
“What we didn’t see coming is the Slicer’s brother was in the closet.”
“Frightening.”
Ah, the sarcastic Rossi.
“He betrayal consumed him and he sent his brother to his own private hell.”
Oh my god, just look at him so happily describing a horror movie. I balk at those.
“Speaking of horror …”
“What’s Strauss doing here?”
“Whatever it is, I cast my vote on ‘no good’.”
I love my goddess XD
“I left them on your desk last night.”
“This really isn’t the time for another evaluation.”
So Strauss is being the regular bitch and trying to get Aaron to do an evaluation on himself? And to have everyone take it again? I’m going to smack this bitch.
So three girls in college, who look eerily alike, were murdered ... yikes.
“As it stands right now, I’m coming up empty.”
“Their apartments were spread throughout the city, so … no fingerprints at the crime scene.”
“The unsub uses gloves.”
“He’s organized.”
“Forced entry at all the apartments. Back door, patio door, living room window.”
“The homes were wrecked.”
“Clear evidence of a struggle.”
“He’s creating a scene.”
“He wants to inflict fear not only in his victim but in whomever finds the body.”
“Could be a message to the local PD. ‘Look what I can do’.”
“He’s killed three women in under a week. San Diego PD wants us on the scene as soon as possible.”
Stephen King: “Sometimes human places create inhuman monsters.”
Dang, Mr. King, just dang.
“Our unsubs has a type and a temper.”
Yeah, he’s angry at brunettes. Seriously creepy (I’m brunette :O)
“Amber was getting ready for her bath. It would have been an easy target for a sexual assault, but none came.”
“That’s highly unusual for this kind of unsub.”
“You know, extreme violence in physical aggression is in its nature sexual.”
Again with the hot people talking about sex.
“That’s true, but as a substitution for the sex act.”
“This guy could be impotent. He can’t perform, so that’s why he goes all out for the kill.”
Again with the sweet ‘innocent’ people talking about sex.
“If he’s targeting female college students, we need to make sure that campus officials are informed if they haven’t been already.”
“We also can’t rule out other students and faculty.”
Insert Reid’s immense knowledge about San Diego college layout ... that’s a lot.
“Each girl lived off-campus and was attacked in their apartment.”
“That’s pretty high-risk.”
“Less risky if he’s stalking them in advance, running layouts and routines.”
“Between classes and part-time jobs, they’d be home sporadically at best.”
“Which tells us they’re not victims of opportunity. He targets them, then stalks them to know where they live and when they’re gonna be home.”
“Morgan, you and Reid go to the last victim’s apartment. Seaver, interview the roommate. Dave and I will go to the medical examiner’s.”
“Well, there’s no secure parking.”
“I rode a bike when I was in college.”
“That’s ‘cause you weren’t old enough to drive, Einstein.”
Oh my god, the Reid-Morgan bromance teasing is back. I love those two so fucking much.
“I could drive. It’s just the government wouldn’t issue me a license until I was fourteen.”
Oh, schooled!
“A lot of places for the unsub to hide out here.”
“Yeah, he could have easily grabbed her when she passed through here.”
“Yet she made it all the way to her apartment.”
“Where she should feel safe, but then he took that from her.”
“The number of stab wounds increases with each victim, yes?”
“Did the strike indicate any medical knowledge on the part of the unsub?”
“He hadn’t built his confidence yet.”
“He’s improving quickly.”
“He made the struggle last longer because he wanted her to suffer.”
“So now he’s starting to enjoy it.”
And I’m about to upchuck the strawberries and banana
“I’m Agent Derek Morgan. This is Dr. Spencer Reid.”
“He jimmied the lock on the window.”
“I guess he needed the privacy to complete the torture.”
“Well, most sadists like to kill on their own turf. This guy didn’t risk taking her to a secondary location.”
“Maybe something happened which makes the location of the kill significant. Look.”
“That’s something new.”
What is?
“He’s smearing the blood on the walls, exhibiting more control and rage over his victims, taking pleasure in the kill.”
Ew!
“It looks like he’s taking his anger out on women who represent someone he knows.”
“Yeah, like Edmund Kemper. He most likely can’t confront his true target yet, so he’s going after women who look like her until he can build up the confidence to complete his endgame.”
“So she wasn’t into the college scene.”
“Academically or for money?”
“Do you know where she heard about the part-time work?”
Craigslist ... yikes.
“The first victim, Monica Shanley’s, BFF reported that they were talking on the phone and hung up just before Monice stepped inside her apartment.”
“What does that get us?”
Phone time with the sexy goddess?
“Well, some neighbors heard loud screaming coming from Monica’s apartment at 11:12 pm.”
“At 11:15 they called 911.”
“11:26 cops arrived.”
“He’s able to strike, kill, and get out in less than 14 minutes?”
That’s one fast sicko.
“How’d it go?”
“According to her roommate, Amber worked odd jobs to make ends meet.”
“Could be where she met with the unsub. Garcia, get us a list of jobs that Amber worked the last few months, and look for personal checks she might have deposited as under-the-table payments.”
Oh, you smart Italian stallion.
“Copy that.”
“The unsub stalks his victims. He knows their routine.”
“He could attack them anytime they’re alone, even in their cars, but he chooses to attack them in their homes.”
“And waits for them to bolt the doors before he strikes.”
“He wants them to feel safe before he takes that away from them.”
“It’s about making them feel powerless in their own personal space.”
“So it’s physical and psychological torture.”
No shit.
So he killed a babysitter. Yikes. Poor baby.
“We profiled that he gets off by striking inside the victims’ homes. Why did he kill her here?”
“That’s a big change in MO.”
“Maybe Laurie had a roommate, so the unsub figured he’d have more time on the job.”
“Did he hurt the child?”
Thankfully, no.
“I’ll talk to them. You two go in.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, I’m David Rossi with the FBI. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”
“And how did you meet her?”
Again with the fucking Craigslist.
“How many people did you interview?”
“Did she talk about any boyfriends or say anything that may have raised an alarm?”
“And how long ago was that?”
So she had a boyfriend up till a month ago. Yikes.
“With an infant in the room, Laurie would have been at her most vulnerable.”
“Look at this.”
“He felt compelled to organize the supplies.”
“Look.”
Now, if it weren’t for the blood, I would have so many images of Daddy!Derek.
“Do you think the unsub fed the kid?”
“Then he stabs Laurie, so the kid probably starts crying.”
“Maybe he gave the kid the bottle in order to keep him quiet.”
“We might be looking for someone with a deep-rooted abandonment issue.”
“One who identifies with the child.”
“Or maybe the baby crying interfered with his enjoyment of watching the babysitter bleed out?”
“Well, either way, caring for the child would be psychological torture for Laurie.”
“Reid. Look at that.”
“She’s got several missed calls and a few texts from social networking sites.”
“‘What’s with the photo? Halloween isn’t for months’.”
“Speak, boy wonder, behold my might.”
XD
“Garcia, the latest victim Laurie Burgin was writing something on the internet last night. Can you figure out what it was?”
“Yeah. I was just tweeting myself. Uno momento.”
She tweets? Damn. I love this woman.
“Oh, God. Reid.”
“She managed to take a picture of the unsub before she died.”
Oh shit.
“Can’t really make it out.”
“I can tell you more. Laurie’s account was active two hours after that photo was posted.”
“And continued posting status updates after she died.”
Shit. That dude is fucking sick.
“‘Feeling faint at heart.’”
“‘All alone and too scared to cry.’”
“All right, this isn’t good. He’s mocking his victims now.”
“He sat here tweeting while Laurie bled to death.”
“All right, baby girl, listen. I need you to go through Laurie’s accounts. See who was following her and see who was messaging back.”
“On it.”
“All right, let’s get out of here, let’s get back to Hotch.”
“We got a photo and we got a profile.”
“Thank you, Garcia.”
“We’re looking for a while male in his early 20s.”
“And because he’s stalking his victims, we believe that he either works out of his house or a part-time job.”
“This unsub strikes in the home rather than the outside where he could more easily abduct his victims.”
“Now, this tells us that his social skills are most likely lacking and he may not have the confidence to talk to women.”
“His confidence with killing, however, is growing. He’s gone from hesitant strikes in the victim’s home to painting the walls with blood.”
“Our unsub is developing a taste for the kill. And his victims share similar features and backgrounds.”
“And we believe that they represent someone whom the unsub thinks has wronged him and he’s taking out his rage on them.”
“Because the unsub shows signs of one neat aspect and started killing suddenly and effectively with no break, we believe he was recently incarcerated or institutionalized.”
“Look at men who got out a month or so ago. Their records will show a history of violence, anger toward women and/or symbols of authority.”
“We need to warn all young women to be hypervigilant, especially in their online acquaintances, but also with service workers, maintenance staff, and deliverymen.”
Hey! Assholes, don’t make fun of my superheroes!
“No, but tell them to double-check IDs, call dispatch before they let anybody inside.”“Panic is inevitable, but we still need to keep everyone informed. Uniformed officers are posting warnings across campuses.”
“Now, since the Jenkins family found Laurie online, we believe the unsub may be using similar methods …”
“Profiles, job postings, anything that gives a little too much information that the unsub could use to hunt his victims.”
“And time’s not on our side. We think that he’s already got his next victim in his sights.”
“The account tracks back to an email address he created yesterday morning, IP address leads to a public terminal. That’s where the trail ends.”
“What about the Jenkins house?”
“He was tweeting with her prior to the assault.”
“The unsub hacked into the Jenkins’ Wi-Fi network.”
“Pretty smart for a guy who’s been locked up.”
“Yeah, he has gotten good at covering his tracks. How are you doing on a list of criminal records and releases?”
“Oh, right, that. Okay. I searched local college students, which is a lot, and I’m a masochist, so I went ahead and included military personnel because San Diego has a big naval and marine presence.”
“Combine those with those two pools and he’s swimming in criminal infractions.”
“All right, filter out sexual assault and lewd behavior.”
“Filtering at the speed of light, sir.”
Someone give her writers all the awards.
“And what about background financials on the victims? Is there any evidence of jobs being performed under the table?”
“Actually, in all cases there were personal checks deposited from several accounts, most under $100.”
So babysitting isn’t that financially beneficial.
“All right, send a list of account holders, and, Seaver, when you get them, start making phone calls.”
“What am I looking for?”
Another brain? Because you’re looking at babysitters, activate those neurons.
“Any victims who might have worked as babysitters.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Shit. Fucking Strauss is sticking her nose in everything. Fuck.
“We’ve delivered the profile and the locals are canvassing the area. Did you call for a field update?”
“How’s that?”
Wait. So now he has to run an assessment on himself? Isn’t that against protocol?
“My orders were to assess the team.”
“Is that an order?”
“Ma’am, with all due respect, we’ve got four women dead and we’ll probably have another one by the morning.”
“She’s relentless.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Did he get another babysitter?”
You bet your ass he did.
“Who’s that?”
“They were locked in here all night?”
“I’ll meet you guys inside.”
So he locked the mom and the baby in the beddroom while he killed the babysitter and daddy? Fuck.
And now he’s just the cutest little puppy thing ever comforting that lady and being the most amazing hunky thing ever.
“Hello, Amy. My name’s Derek Morgan. I’m with the FBI. I understand you’ve been through a great ordeal. I’d just like to ask you a few questions if that’s okay.”
Oh my cutie polite puppy.
“Did you happen to see the man who came in your home?”
“It’s okay. Take your time.”
“Did you hear anything while you were locked inside?”
“Jake suffered multiple stab wounds to the chest and abdomen. The sitter, Lily, got the brunt of it.”
“She could be the one he’s been after all along.”
Wasn’t that the whole point of this? He hates brunette babysitters?
“I don’t know. This guy’s meticulous. He plans everything out.”
“Then why didn’t he know the Ellisons were returning?”
“I think he did. I mean, the unsub was watching the house. He knew that they came home, but he just didn’t care. He adapted.”
“He went after the biggest threat first. He eliminated Jake in order to gain control over Lily and Amy.”
“There are two initial points of attack, one in the hallway outside the nursery and the other one here. Yet, both bodies ended up together.”
“Look at the way they’re posed, directly looking at each other.”
“He wanted them to watch each other die.”
“I think it’s more than that. This change in behavior could be the piece that we’re missing.”
“This guy knew the Ellisons were home, but he struck anyway. He could have taken out the entire family, but he chose to spare the mother and the child. Why?”
“With the Jenkins, the unsub actually fed the baby. Here, he spared the mother and locked her in a room with her son. It’s likely he’s protecting the children.”
“The addition of Jake Ellison caused the unsub to change his methodology.”
“For the first time he posed the bodies, and he’s also sexually violated one of the victims.”
“Okay, we have a father posed to look at a dying babysitter and a mother and child protected upstairs. That’s a pretty clear message.”
“Garcia, search for local women who died in their early 30s and they’re survived by a husband and at least one son. Go back 10-15 years. Cross that with new marriage licenses filled by surviving husbands.”
“The unsub’s always been troubled, Garcia, so look for youthful offenders who would have fit into the sociopathic triad.”
“Okay, I’ve got a few.”
“What about …”
“Here’s one. Greg Phinney, Chula Vista.”
“He was put into juvie when he was thirteen for … threatening his stepmom with a knife.”
“What do we know about the stepmother?”
“Kate Jones, aka the second Mrs. Phinney. Married Greg’s father a year after Greg’s mother was killed in a car accident. Greg was 11 at the time.”
“Mr. Phinney died four weeks ago.”
“Is there any evidence that Kate worked in the Phinney home before the mother’s death?”
“Oh, the plot solidifies. Kate cited additional income as caregiver on her tax returns when she was a college student. Payments trace back to the Phinneys.”
“Kate filed numerous reports against Greg for violent behavior, experimentation on animals. Greg’s father finally put the kibosh on things when he was seventeen, had him institutionalized.”
“Greg was released two weeks ago.”
“Just before the killings started.”
“Garcia, where’s Greg Phinney now?”
“Yeah, that’s a good question. Oh, dear …”
What?
“Greg Phinney, FBI. Open the door!”
“He’s not in here.”
Captain Hot and OBvious.
“The bedroom’s clear.”
“Baby girl, can you tell me why Greg Phinney’s laptop has an employee login screen?”
“Well, lover, I have been doing some digging.”
“Did you know that he’s been working part-time as a data entry clerk at the San Diego Register?”
“If he was in an institution, where did he get the time to find a job?”
“Uh, he didn’t even have to look. This job is part of his work-release program. And twenty hours of internet privileges will go a long way.”
“That’s how he finds his victims. He browses the classifieds. Did he have access tos the customers’ personal information?”
“Oh, honey, he entered it.”
“That must be Kate Phinney.”
“Well, he’s obviously built up the confidence to confront her.”
“Garcia.’
“Reading your mind. Calling the others.”
I love those two.
“Greg’s not at home, so he’s probably already at Karen’s house.”
“Kate’s the object of his hostility. He’s gonna take his time.”
“Let’s light ‘em up. I’m sure he knows we’re coming.”
“Dave, take some uniforms and find the back door. I’m gonna try to get inside and talk to him.”
“You think that’s gonna work?”
“I don’t think Kate gets out of this any other way.”
Oh boy, what are they gonna do now?
“Greg Phinney, this is Agent Aaron Hotchner. I need to talk to you about your demands so you can let Kate go.”
So he’s a serial killer without demands? Well, that’s weird.
Wait. He’s blaming Kate in all of this? Why?
“What has she done?”
“Greg, I think this has more to do with your dad than it is about Kate.”
“Your dad put you away.”
“Greg, I need to ask you a very important question. Do you want to live?”
Well, that’s seriously worrying.
“I think you do. And if so, you need to let me in the house. Otherwise I can’t guarantee that you’re gonna walk out of there.”
“Seaver, I want you to come in with me. Leave your firearm here.”
“Be compassionate and sympathetic to him. Let him tell you how Kate betrayed him and how much you understand his devastation.”
Heh, he’s pissed he brought in Seaver. But he can smooth his way into anything, can’t you, Hotch?
“I know, but I thought if we talked inside we could work this out ourselves.”
“No guns.”
No guns? Have you lost your marbles?
“As long as you’ve got a gun, if one of the agents outside has a clear shot, he’ll take it.”
Sneaky Rossi.
“I don’t have a line of sight.”
“Tell me what you want Greg.”
“Don’t you really want Kate to apologize for making your dad forget your mom?”
“Unless the next words out of your mouth are ‘I’m sorry’, I don’t want to hear anything else from you.”
WHOA!
“I understand, Greg. I do.”
“She took care of you. You trusted her. And then she betrayed you as soon as your mother was gone.”
Spider-Rossi! (Flexibility and stuff)
“It must have crushed you when Kate married your dad.”
“How did it make you feel, Greg?”
“You felt betrayed, didn’t you, Greg?”
“Ask her the question, Greg. Go ahead. Ask her.”
Wait. So this whole fucking thing was about him being in love with his babysitter-turned-stepmom? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?
No. Fucking. Way!
“Bring in backup.”
“No. I had to be aggressive towards you in order to gain Greg’s trust. None of this is your fault.”
Aw, that’s nice of you, b;ondie.
“Greg has always been troubled. Losing his mother and then his father made him even more unstable. Sometimes we do everything right and we still lose. Greg was a sociopath and there’s nothing you could have done to change that.”
“Good work, agent.”
“Hey. Nice job, kid.”
I love Rossi so fucking much!
Adrienne Rich: “Every journey into the past is complicated by delusions, false memories, false namings of real events.”
What the fuck does that even mean?
“Why, uh, why the interest in the well-being of my team?”
“What kind of concerns?”
“What’s going on?”
So Erin has problems and she needs to go away? Finally.
Heyo! So this episode had everything! Humor, sarecasm, banter, cutie patooties making me smile, and then that whole bit iwth the unsub being a total nutcase. Just what the Dr. Spencer Reid ordered XD I have faith in this show again XD
Alrighty, I gotta go finish up the reviews for this season and get cracking on seven (holy shit, where has time gone?)
Thank you so much for the ever-surprising support!
#criminal minds reviews#criminal minds#reviews#s06e21#the stranger#aaron hotchner#thomas gibson#derek morgan#shemar moore#spencer reid#matthew gray gubler#penelope garcia#kirsten vangsness#david rossi#joe mantegna#ashley seaver#rachel nichols#erin strauss#jayne atkinson#poodle#puppy#baby boy#hot stuff#god of chocolate thunder#chocolate adonis#baby girl#tech kitten#goddess#stephen king#adrienne rich
1 note
·
View note
Last Seen Blogs
