#Callahan Investigations

[dragonmuse]

@thenightie this took on a life of it's own, a seed well planted!

The first time, it’s just because she was having a teeny tiny breakdown in front of a display of Mother’s Day cards.

Read had walked into a bodega with full intention of just getting a soda and some pretzels when she saw the display. It had been a decade since she’d last given her mother a card for Mother’s Day, a paltry dollar store offering that her mother had thanked her for, but Read found in the trash hours later.  

Ten years since the last card. Four years since she’d laid eyes on the woman. The display was a sock to the gut and she stared helplessly at it with all the pretty pink envelopes and too much glitter. Briefly, she thought of Rita, but they weren’t there really. Not yet. Maybe never again. Maybe that needed its own day. It’s own painful conversation. 

One of the cards was slightly less pink. It was white and blue and there was a cartoon of a prickly, but smiling blobby fish on the front. Read tugged it loose. It read ‘You’re one bad motherpuffer’.  Inside it just said ‘Happy Mother’s Day’. 

It was an awful, terrible idea, but everything felt a little awful and terrible just then. At least this was also funny. 

Group Chat: basket my balls  

Read: on a scale of misfiling paperwork to property damage, how mad would this make him?   Card.jpg 

Jim: Going to the store right now. We bomb him. 

Charlie: this is diabolical, count me in 

Read: we cannot be in the room when he gets them 

Jim: we’re mailing them. 

Charlie: you’re all in the fall out radius, I’m not coming home for weeks after. Best wishes. 

Read: i have dinosaur stamps, this is going to rule so hard  

**

On Saturdays, Izzy would go to the gym, come home and check his mail. It was a fairly useless exercise these days, the only things shoved in the metal box were ads and occasionally a bill that he’d already paid online. Today the door opened a little stiffly, so it might be one of those fat circulars that could jam things up. 

Three envelopes spilled into his hand. One white, two pink. He turned them over to figure out who’s box they’d been meant to go in, but there was his name in three very different, but all recognizable handwriting. Read’s was crowded like she worried about running out of space. Jim’s was a beautiful copperplate that they rarely used. Charlie’s a mess script, letters running into each other. 

“What fresh hell is this?” He muttered and took them upstairs with him, then left them on the counter. He needed to shower, shave and re-hydrate before he faced whatever was waiting for him there. 

Thus prepared, he picked up the pinkest one, and slit it open with a knife. He pulled out a mostly white card with chunky script letters on it.  The front read ‘You may not have given me life, but life gave me you’. Izzy stared at that for a long time, then opened it like it might try to kill him. 

Inside under ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ in that same chipper script, Charlie had scrawled ‘and fuck you for that last book, I’m still crying - C’ 

Izzy set the card down carefully. The two pink envelopes now seemed even more threatening. 

Jim’s would probably be meaner. He needed that, so he picked it up next. Glitter teased along the edges of the envelope, so he opened it over the garbage can. 

The card inside was only a little glittery. It mostly featured a duck, covered in ducklings, sitting on the words ‘Sorry for driving you quackers’.   Reluctantly he opened it. There was more duckling perched on the words ‘Have a ducking good Mother’s Day’ inside.  Jim’s copperplate read ‘There are three new hiding spots in the office. Good luck, boss.’ 

Izzy dropped the card on top of Charlie’s. Ridiculous bullshit. They were clearly trying to....something. Rile him up? Prank him? What was this? 

The last envelope was Read’s and he did snort at the stupid fish on the cover. Her handwriting was hard to make out, but he was used to that. Her message inside was: 

‘This made me smile when I thought I would cry. So thanks for all the times you do that too. You’d make a great puffer fish. [tiny hand drawn heart colored in red], Read.’ 

Izzy pressed a hand down on the three cards. Ridiculous, bullshit, all of them. Probably trying to get under his skin like they sometimes randomly decided to work in concert to do. If he confronted them about it, they’d all laugh about it.  A giant joke, somehow at his expense. Yet nothing in the cards was mocking. 

They had tricked themselves into sincerity somehow. 

“Idiots,” Izzy said fondly and did the only thing he knew would drive them all absolutely up the wall. 

Took them seriously. 

All three cards went up on the fridge. It took him a while to find magnets as the only thing that usually lived there was his, Pete and Lucius’ calendar.  

When Read came over that night and spotted the cards, she gave him a frantic-eyed look and he pointedly ignored it, refusing to acknowledge them at all. Flummoxed, she said nothing, though he caught her texting as he served up dinner. Good. Let them sweat on that. 

Lucius arrived on Sunday afternoon, swanning in mid-rant like he’d been saving it up, then cut short immediately when he saw the fridge. 

“What’s that?” He didn’t approach, giving Izzy a quick check in look. 

“Didn’t hide them,” Izzy shrugged. “Might as well.”

After some inspection, Lucius began to laugh, but the laugh trailed off the further he got. 

“Aw, Iz,” he ended with. 

“Bunch of idiots,” Izzy muttered. 

“Your idiots,” Lucius reminded him. “It’s hysterical.” 

“Yeah, but they think the joke is on me,” he said smugly. 

“How long do you think it’ll take them to work that out?” 

“Fuck knows, but it’s worth waiting them out.” 

Except maybe it wasn’t because the cards came again next year. And the next. Pickle, finally old enough to read, added her own after that though she carefully crossed out ‘Mother’ and wrote in ‘Uncle’ on each one of hers. 

Izzy’s birthday was a non-event in his life. He rarely told anyone when it was and fortunately Lucius was equally adverse about his own most of the time, so they mostly ignored them. But Lucius had an affection for anniversaries and Izzy could indulge in buying him things and making a bit of a fuss each year for that instead. 

So maybe it wasn’t a surprise when four years into that madness, Izzy came home on that Saturday morning (never the actual day. Mary, Dolly, and Delly still held claim to that) to find a full brunch spread in his kitchen and his apartment crammed full. Jim and Oluwande were sitting on the floor with Pickle playing Connect 4, Read was helping Lucius cook while Anne and Felix were locked in some deep discussion involving a lot of hand gestures, and Charlie was tucked up on the couch with Delly and Thomas, all listening to Pete tell some story as he perched on the coffee table. 

“What?” He asked blankly. 

“Happy Mother’s Day, Iz,” Lucius brushed a kiss on his cheek. 

“Fuck the whole lot of you,” Izzy breathed out and had to squint his eyes shut for a long minute and swallow hard, before he was ready to face them all.

#leda house and the kraken verse #Callahan Investigations

[satureja13]

After Jeb and Jack finished their work at Guidry's office, they went down to the food stands. They hadn't eaten all day. Jack went ahead to order the food. The stands just opened and of course he got distracted from the geek stand and bought one of the limited edition shirts. Saiwa will be so jealous!

But even though Jeb is so hungry, he wasn't angry at Jack. Because he got distracted himself! hahaha Jeb: "Cool t-shirts! I'll buy one for my Giigs!" That was it with the exclusive t-shirt for Jack ^^'

Jeb heard from Saiwa that Jack is having a hard time because he broke up with his Alpha (none of them knows that he'd been together with Kiyoshi).

Jeb: "How are you doing?" Jack: "Oh did Sai already tell you? That new pizza stove is stunning! So many variations! My favourite is the Quattro Stagioni! It's 4 pizze in one! Oh and Noxee makes them. She makes the best pizza! She is so beautiful and amazing!" (Jack loves his pizza.)

Jeb: "Uhm - I was talking about your Alpha..." Jack: "Oh! Yeah. I'm feel better. Now that it's over. We didn't meet often and when, it soon ended in bed. Or in the hot tub... Or in the shower... Or in the shrubbery... It wasn't all bad. But I couldn't go on like this. And I never understood what a guy like him wanted from me anyway. If I weren't that damaged - maybe we..."

Jeb: "Don't say that, Jack. A relationship needs the engagement of both partners. He can't just make you his Omega and then abandon you for most of the time. That's not how it works. No matter if damaged or not. You still have us after all - your chosen pack. Give Saiwa this hug from me. Take care." Jack: "I will."

Outtakes Jack had Mapo Tofu ^^'

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest

The 'Disbandment of the Group' Chapter from the beginning -> here

#disbandment of the group #ts4 story #simlit #sims 4 story #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 #underwater love #jack callahan #jeb harris #guidry #san myshuno #sims 4 vanilla #guidry's paranormal investigations bureau #bofrost skyway

[thenukacolachallenge]

I think the most annoying part about the Eddie death is that he might have survived if he just zipped up that fucking vest so the bats couldn't eat his torso

It just shows how weird the writing in s4 really is

#eddieposting #that and the whole 'we had to send hopper to russia so callahan and powell could fumble the investigation' #anyways that vest thing + dee using the cans of shave cream in his room to her advantage #both play a huge part in my au #shaving cream is very flammable :)

[filmnoirsbian]

Things read in May

Essays & Articles:

Ursula K. Le Guin on Being A Man

Investigating parents of transgender youth has agency on ‘brink of collapse,’ staff warns

Five Indigenous Speculative Fiction Authors You Should Be Reading

DECOLONIZING SCIENCE FICTION AND IMAGINING FUTURES: AN INDIGENOUS FUTURISMS ROUNDTABLE

Using Dogs As A Tool of Racial Oppression

Rings of Power: The new hobbits are filthy, hungry simpletons with stage-Irish accents. That’s $1bn well spent

First case of HIV cure in a woman after stem cell transplantation reported at CROI-2022

The Trees That Miss The Mammoths

NOPE’S SCIENCE CONSULTANT REVEALS THE NAME AND INSPIRATION FOR THE MOVIE’S ALIEN

Reflections on the Poetry of Eavan Boland

The dire state of trans healthcare in Ireland

How Letterkenny Got Indigenous Representation So Right

Einstein's Parable of Quantum Insanity

Surgical amputation of a limb 31,000 years ago in Borneo

Most Transgender Children Stick With Gender Identity 5 Years Later: Study

Were you a ‘parentified child’? What happens when children have to behave like adults

Fear of a Black Hobbit

It’s a ‘Full-Contact’ Haunted House. What Could Go Wrong?

The Craft: How a Teenage Weirdo Based on a Real Person Became an Icon

Remember When Multiplayer Gaming Needed Envelopes and Stamps?

‘We’ll Never Make That Kind of Movie Again’ An oral history of The Emperor’s New Groove, a raucous Disney animated film that almost never happened.

5 Incredible Sagas of Fandom Scams and Deception

I Used to Love British Period Dramas. Now I See Them as Colonial Propaganda

Why gender essentialism is a white supremacist ideology

Liberating Our Homes From the Real Estate–Industrial Complex

You Don’t Have To Be Pretty – On YA Fiction And Beauty As A Priority

Ten Years Later, There’s Still Nothing Like Tarsem Singh’s The Fall

Tolerance is not a moral precept

Scottish Poet and Publisher Derick Thomson 'Transformed' Gaelic Poetry

Poetry:

The Universe, as in One Last Song for the Lonely Hearts by Michelle Hulan

An Ordinary Evening in New Haven by Wallace Stevens

Heaven by George Herbert

Return from Death by Derick Thomson

Coffins by Derick Thomson

Chemin De Fer by Elizabeth Bishop

Yes, It Was The Mountain Echo by William Wordsworth

The Man and the Echo by William Butler Yeats

The Most of It by Robert Frost

Eros Turannos by Edwin Arlington Robinson

Books:

The Dark Yule by R. M. Callahan

The Invasion by K. A. Applegate

The Whisper by Aaron Starmer

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski

Miss Iceland by Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir

#tcp #this is late bc i just kept forgetting to post it all lol #an open window #articles #essays #poetry

[alovesongtheywrote]

nightmare academia puts me through the ringer EVERY TIME and i love it

♥ Summary: in a few chapters, it's gonna get worse!! for now tho... In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, case stuff ensues and you prepare for heartbreak. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: cops. cops being terrible, cops exploiting the system, and cops shaming a woman for being a sex worker. also, violence, implied violence, and past violence.

♥ A/N: holy shit, this chapter is Very Long

♥ Word Count: 4885

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

In the weeks that followed, Spencer brought the BAU to you.  Of course, not everyone could make it.  Kate Callahan was off raising her children.  Penelope Garcia was the target of several  hitmen (whereas Frank was probably the target of a single hitman.  Massive difference.  Trust me.)  And Derek Morgan remained at Quantico with Garcia- so you really weren’t sure what to expect.  The agents you had the strongest feelings about were out of commission.  The last time you’d met his team it did not uh, how would you put it?  End well?  So you were- justifiably- a touch guarded.

That changed. Eventually.

It started with Adam.  

At that point in the investigation, local law enforcement had only shown your friend cruelty, distrust, and skepticism.  Honestly?  You were about to start biting people about it.  (Yeah, maybe it would have gotten you arrested, but at that point, you did not care.  At the very least, biting would make you feel productive.)  You were well and truly prepared for Spencer’s law enforcement team to behave in a similar manner to the local cops- and to be honest, you probably should have been.  Most Feds would carry that same suspicion and distrust, and if they didn’t they were probably faking it to try and get a confession.  

The BAU, however, are not most Feds.  For several reasons.  Either way, you were well and truly prepared to maul the next person who treated your friend like garbage, fed or otherwise.  There was never a need.

The BAU showed Adam basic decency.  They didn’t talk down to him or dismiss him as a demeaning stereotype- and yes, that was the barest of bare minimum, but it was still something.  While they regarded him with mild suspicion for the first like, two minutes, it only took the team that same two minutes to come to the conclusion that Adam was innocent.  After that, the BAU was just as dedicated to clearing Adam’s name as you were.

“Adam had an incredibly emotional response when we mentioned Frank,” Hotchner explained to the local detectives, “He’s genuinely devastated by what happened.  He couldn’t have done this.  Even if he did attack Frank, it wouldn’t have been a clinical hit.”

“Emotions tend to make things messy- we would have seen something much more personal, with more violence and more remorse,” Rossi added.

The detectives did not listen.  The detectives did not care.  

“I’d say a gunshot wound is pretty messy,” one laughed.

“Yeah,” another jumped in, “Try telling the vic’ that things aren’t messy.”

You bit your tongue to keep from screaming, but you didn’t stay entirely silent.  If the detectives weren’t going to give a shit on their own, then you were going to make them.

“Have you actually?” you asked, crossing your arms, “Have you spoken to the victim?”

“Eh, someone else got around to it,” the first detective asked, looking at his partner with the special kind of uncertainty that came with getting called out.

“Did you read the report, then?”

“Well, I’m on the case, aren’t I?”

“Answer the question, detective.”

In the telling silence that followed, Rossi had to turn away to hide his (failed) attempt to suppress a grin.  Hotchner looked proud, despite not knowing you very well.  Spencer looked like he might grab you by the waist and kiss you until you were out of breath.  He didn’t, though, for lots of reasons- his boss was there, he hadn’t asked you if you’d like to be kissed, there was more serious stuff to focus on, and like… you already looked fucking pissed.

The detectives just looked embarrassed.  

“I- uh.  I’ve skimmed it,” the first detective stuttered out.

“Yeah, cool, not good enough,” you nabbed the case file from a nearby desk and pressed it into the officer’s hands, “Consider reading the report.  You’ll find that the victim disagrees with you.”

Both detectives stared at the file as if they were seeing it for the first time- as if they were seeing a file for the first time.  You sighed.

“Detective, if I may ask, how much overtime have you put in on this case?”  the man in front of you blanched at your question.  You would’ve laughed if you weren’t so fucking angry, “Cool.  I thought so.”

“Ough,” Rossi winced with faux sympathy, “Overtime?  And you haven’t even read the case file?”

“Hey, we’ve been very busy these last few weeks!”

The second officer nodded, “Just last week, we had five break-ins in the downtown area.”

“Alright, I’ll accept that,” you turned to leave before doubling back, “But before I go, I need to ask- do you care about the wellbeing of the break-in vics the way you care about this case?  Do you care about all victims so dearly?  Or do you treasure their testimony the way you “treasure” the testimony in this case?”

“What?  What are you saying, what do you-”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume it’s the latter.”  

“What?  Okay, what the hell do you know about police work-!”

“They’re an expert criminologist,” Spencer said, seething slightly.

“Dr. Reid is right.  I know a thing or two about crime- and if I’m just gonna put it this way.  I’ve seen the data.  I’ve heard testimony from victims and offenders.  I know the local and nationwide statistics for unreported crimes.  You’re concerned about the victim hearing that his case isn’t messy?  Look me in the eye and tell me that you’ve never told a victim that their situation- their serious situation- was a waste of police time.”

The officers couldn’t look at your face, much less your eyes.  You had done what you needed to do.

“You wanna solve crimes?  You wanna be the hero?  Then take a goddamned ethics class, read your fucking case files, care for your community, and do your fucking job.”

The detectives tried in vain to defend themselves.  They were unsuccessful- especially in the face of the three FBI agents that immediately backed you up.

“Dr. (L/N) is right.  The number of unreported crimes will astound you,” Rossi said, smirking like the little shit that we all know he is.

“This is especially prevalent with sexual assault cases, theft and scams, and other crimes where the victim may feel a sense of embarrassment- or crimes where the victim feels like their case won’t be taken seriously,” Spencer added in a very Spencer-like way.

“And everything you need to know about this crime is in the file.  If you’d read it, you’d know that the victim is very insistent that your guy didn’t do it, and one could say that, oh, I don’t know, he’s a strong eyewitness.  He is the victim and all,” Rossi continued, getting their asses.

They struggled to respond, “Well- I-  We-”

“And even if you discount the eyewitness testimony, there’s still the matter of alibis and ballistics.  Security cameras have placed Adam away from the community center at the time of the shooting.  The ballistics aren’t a match to any weapon that Adam has ever come into contact with.  Even if they were a match, he hasn’t handled a weapon since his release from prison as a condition of his parole.  But if you had checked the file, you’d know that,” Hotch added, also smirking like a little shit, but with a slight edge to it- that edge, kids, is called “pissed off authority figure.”

“Hey, it-”

“It just sounds like poor police work to me,” Spencer had the biggest smirk of all- the smirk of a little shit who’s proud of his team and of his hot co-professor, “Had you actually done any of your research, you would realize that the suspect you have in custody is being held on police bias and circumstantial evidence.  Any good lawyer can get this case thrown out, and then where will you be?”

His smirk turned to a full grin when you shot him a small smile of your own.

The detectives continued to sputter out responses.  For once, the second one spoke, “Now, we may not be fancy FBI agents, but this precinct has a solid track record of convictions-”

“Were those convictions based on circumstance and bias?” Neither detective answered Spencer’s question.  He continued, “Even if this precinct had a perfect track record, that wouldn’t make it invulnerable to mistakes- and even if it did, you would still have the responsibility of approaching each case like professionals to ensure the wellbeing of victims, suspects, and families.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” you slid forward, putting a hand on Spencer’s arm, “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to go speak with the victim.  His name is Frank, by the way.”

And just like that, you pulled Dr. Spencer Reid away- and he did not resist in the slightest.  In fact, he held the door open for you as you exited the precinct.  Rossi was pretty sure he saw the kid get behind the wheel.

As the detectives scurried away with their tails between their legs, the older agent let out a long whistle.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that our young Dr. Reid is officially smitten.”

“He was smitten the last time we were here,” Hotch said, pulling another copy of the case file from seemingly nowhere- one of his many unit chief powers.

“Yeah, yeah, but this time it’s bad.  Garcia’s gonna be mad that she didn’t get to see it.”

Hotch nodded, solemnly.

“Y’know, I think the three of them combined could probably take down the whole FBI.”

“You’re right,” Hotch snapped the file closed with a tiny little proud-dad-type smile, “We’re awfully lucky that they’re focused on something else at the moment.”

-

Missy got your guard to drop further.

Initially, she was hesitant to have the Feds drop in on Frank’s case- you both were.  You were used to local law enforcement treating her like shit.  You didn’t stand for it- every time a cop or lawyer so much as dared to look at her wrong, you bared your teeth like a damn dog and threatened to bite where it would hurt.  Y’know.  Lawsuits.  Missy wasn’t exactly a pushover, either.  She was one of the strongest people you knew, and you were well aware that she could hold her own.  If Missy wanted to be scary, she could be fucking terrifying.

Still, it was a little exhausting to fight all these battles against people in positions of authority who were so convinced that their series of events was correct, and anyone who went against it was nothing more than a lying ex-con.  Having the BAU in your pockets certainly helped with that.

“I already told you what happened.  I’ll tell you a thousand more times if I have to, but the story isn’t going to change,” Missy groaned, voice muffled as she buried her face in her hands.

“Okay, then.  We’ll go over your testimony again.  A few more times, if you don’t mind,” One of the local detectives smirked, ignoring the death glare you sent her way.

“Fine.  Frank was walking me to the community center.  I was taking a class on resume writing.  It was cloudy, not raining, but cold.  We came around the side of the building when a man in a leather jacket walked around the corner.”

“And what did this man do?”

“He- he shot Frank.  He tried to kill my-” she took a shaky breath.  You put a hand on her arm, aiming for gentle comfort and reassurance.  Missy nodded, letting you know you’d hit your target.

“Did you see his face?” The officer continued.

“No.  He was wearing one of those bike helmets that block off the person’s eyes- but I swear, it wasn’t Adam.  This guy was too bulky.  Adam’s made of wires, he needs to eat more.”

“You seem to have a lot of affection for Adam,” the detective leaned forward, “Now, we know you’ve claimed to be in a relationship with Frank- but could you describe your relationship with Adam for us?”

“I already said it!  I took a couple classes with him!  He’s a friend, that’s all.”

“Mhmm.  That’s all.  And in your previous line of work- the one that earned you a prison sentence of twelve months and a little over minimum wage- you had a lot of ‘friends,’ yes?”

“Excuse me?” your fingers bit into the table that separated you from the cop.  You had half a mind to jump over the thing and throttle the smug detective sitting before you.  

“What?” Missy growled, “You think just because I used to hook I fuck all my friends now?  I’ve taken a few classes with Doc (L/N), I haven’t fucked them!”

You nodded in solemn agreement.  The detective shrugged this off, ignoring everything that came out of Missy’s mouth.  When she spoke again, her voice rang with the faux pity of someone who held themselves leagues above Missy.

“You know, I can see why you were looking at writing up a resume- your old line of work is so degrading.  You know you’re never the same, afterwards.  You can never wash off the shame.  You’ll always be a little broken.  A little-”

“Okay, that’s enough-” you stood up, slamming your hands down on the table.

“Hey, fuck you, man-” Missy leaned forward, “Don’t tell me what hooking did to me.  You don’t know me.  You don’t fucking know.”

“And now you’re lashing out.  Poor thing-”

“Detective Foy.  A word,” Tara Lewis, a newer BAU agent who you hadn’t really had the pleasure of meeting materialized in the doorway like a perfectly timed ghost, ready to right some wrongs and keep you from committing a murder.  Her request for a word was perfectly intimidating, disclosing the not-so-secret secret that the request itself was not actually a request.  

“I’m sorry, Agent, I’m in the middle of an interrogation-” 

“It’s not an interrogation.  You’re questioning a witness.  Agent Jareau will handle things from here.  Now, a word?”

You and Missy watched as the detective slunk out of the room with her tail between her legs.  Moments later, JJ joined you, but she didn’t bother to start a line of questioning.  Instead, the three of you watched in giddy silence as Tara Lewis destroyed Detective Foy where she stood.  You couldn’t hear her through the glass, but you could vaguely read the words, “You are a police officer meant to serve and protect the people in your community, and uphold the law.  You should educate yourself on the law, and on what it means to serve and protect.”  On her lips.

You could’ve been off on that translation, but either way, it was sick as fuck.  By the time Tara was finished, you and Missy were barely holding back your laughter.  You probably would’ve held it in if JJ hadn’t turned around with a pleased grin on her face.

“Ok, well, I’ve known Agent Lewis for about three minutes, and already I adore her,” you cackled.

“Oh, she’s excellent,” Missy said, eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Well, we certainly like her,” Jennifer grinned, clearly proud of her teammate and happy to see that someone outside the BAU had taken notice.

A few moments later, Tara re-entered the room with a tired sigh on her lips.  It didn’t take her long to realize that you were all staring right at her.

“What?  What is it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, we just think, as a group,” you looked around like you were the leader of the world’s weirdest (and maybe coolest?) group project, “That you are, objectively, excellent.”

“Yep.  Not bad for a Fed.”

Again, you nodded in agreement, “I concur.”

Tara raised an eyebrow, slightly confused, “Thank you?”

Missy gave Tara a thumbs up.  You followed her lead.  Not really knowing what else to do in this situation, and figuring there was no harm in joining the madness, Tara returned the thumbs up.

“Well, like we said, we’ll take over the questioning from here,” JJ took a seat as she spoke.  Tara joined her at the table.

“So, after Frank was shot, did you see where the attacker went?”

“No.  I was kind of focused on my partner bleeding on the ground.”

“That’s fair- but try to think back.  Did you see anything in your peripheral vision?  Did you hear anything?”

Missy paused for a moment, and when she spoke again, she still sounded lost in thought, “I heard a bike.  It makes sense with the helmet- I think it might’ve been a Yamaha?”  

“Wait, you can tell which brand a bike is by the sound?” you asked, not disbelieving Missy, but distracted by the new knowledge that a person could do such a thing.

“If you let me think about it, I could probably give you the make and model.”

“Holy shit, really?” your eyes were wide.  Your expression betrayed just how bewildered and impressed you were by vehicle knowledge.  It might’ve been basic knowledge, but fuck it, the author can’t drive.

“Oh, absolutely- different bikes make different sounds.  Cars are similar,” Tara nodded her agreement.

“You can tell cars apart by their sounds!?”

“Yeah?  Can’t you?” Missy turned to face you, slightly bemused.

“I can tell that they’re old?  Or like, electric, I guess?”

“Okay, when this is all over, I’m giving you a lesson.”

“I’d like to get in on that,” Tara added.

“Excellent!” Missy smiled, “Now everyone shut up and let me think.”

-

The way the BAU treated Frank dragged your guard down further.  They were gentle, but not dehumanizing or infantilizing.  They just treated him like a human person, and you found that neat, and more importantly, Frank found that neat.  

Also, the BAU laughed at Frank’s anecdotes and jokes.  I will be fully honest.  That was more of a relief to you, especially because a decent chunk of those anecdotes and jokes were about you murdering the shit out of Spencer Reid using nothing but your words.

It really started on that very first day, when you and Spencer had gone to visit Frank.  He could see it from his hospital bed- Spencer’s hand on your shoulder, the way Spencer was very clearly trying to comfort you from some unknown upset, and that was it.

Frank said, “Wow.  Those two have sure come a long way from Doc telling him to go die in a ditch.”

And JJ, who had been questioning him, choked on her coffee and wheezed out a, “What?”  

And that was pretty much it.  Frank explained that Spencer had pissed you off, you’d hit him with the “die in a ditch” thing, and he looked so sad that you literally forgave him the next day.  (He left out the bit about the stabbing, because stabbing doesn’t just kill people, it kills moods.)

From then on, Frank was the premium source of gossip on you and Spencer.  Of course, Missy got in on it, too.

When they told Rossi about the time you’d called Reid a “shit-licking asshole fed,” the agent laughed so hard that he literally couldn’t speak for a solid minute.  Was he a big fan of the anti-fed talk?  Not particularly.  But you had gone at it with such gusto, and with such anger, that he couldn’t help but cackle.  

You knew none of this, but you knew that everyone involved seemed happier after the BAU took the case.  That was good enough for you.

-

Your guard fell because of Spencer.

Wasn’t that always the way this was going to go?

While the BAU took care of your friends, Spencer took care of you.  He made sure you got home safe.  He kept you in the loop about everything case-relevant.  He made sure you remembered to eat, which was kind of hypocritical of him, but oh well.  He offered to drive you to and from the hospital, which was a fun kind of hell, because the man obeyed every traffic law ever made, but you got to bully him for it, so it all evened out in the end.  He distracted you from the nightmare you were living through by offering fun facts.  He made the nightmare better just by being him.  

And he was the one to get Adam out.  

He didn’t announce this victory to you.  He just showed up one day, at the hospital, following behind Adam as the newly freed man burst into Frank’s room.

“Frank!  Hey, are you good man?  I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, I would’ve been, but you know how it is with cops.”

“Shit, dude,” Frank beamed, “All things considered, I’m not too bad.”

“Holy shit, Adam?” you let out a hospital-appropriate screech.

“Oh my god,” Missy stood from her place at Frank’s bedside to give him a hug.  For a moment, she held him so tightly that it looked like Adam legitimately couldn’t breathe.

The moment she saw Spencer lingering in the background, she switched from one wire-shaped man to the next.  Spencer hugged her back politely, and then, in an instant, she was onto you.

“You sons of bitches did it!  You actually did it!”

“Did we?” you asked Spencer, lowering your voice as Missy, Frank, and Adam enjoyed their reunion.

“We did,” Spencer confirmed, stepping closer to you until you were side to side, whispering to each other to avoid disturbing your friends, “We found bank statements proving that this was a targeted hit, unrelated to Adam.  We’ve only been able to find the unsub’s side so far, but it won’t take us long to find whoever contracted him.” 

“Shit- that’s both really good and mildly fucking terrifying.”

“I know,” Spencer answered almost too quickly, but he covered it up just as fast, “But it means that Adam is a free man.  It’s almost over, (Y/N).”

You let out a small exhale, trying to maintain some semblance of calm, “Almost.  Thank you, Spence.  For all of this, for everything-”

“You don’t need to thank me.  It wasn’t just the new evidence.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, there was this local criminology professor, maybe you’ve heard of them.  They were incredibly insistent that law enforcement look deeper into the case, and because of them, the conviction vanished.”

A smile slipped onto your face as you turned to face him, “Was that a joke, Spence?  You’re doing ha-ha funny jokes now?”

“I’m saying you did a good thing, here, (Y/N).  Look,” he nodded towards the hospital bed, where your friends were talking, beaming, clinging to each other’s hands like they’d been shot, traumatized, and separated for months- which was an accurate summary, actually.

At your side, you let your hand slip into Spencer’s, weaving your fingers between his slender ones.  You felt his grip tighten, his palm pressed tightly to yours.  His hands were warm.

“We did a good thing,” you whispered.

You pulled him closer by the hand.  You weren’t harsh or forceful, but Spencer still stumbled into you with what can only be described as a somewhat lovestruck grin on his face.

And then his phone rang.

You watched his face fall as he answered it.  His fingers drifted away from yours.  You could almost hear Hotchner’s voice on the other end.  The call only lasted a few moments, but it changed everything.  The air in the room grew heavy.  The room fell silent.

“We found the unsub.  My team is confronting him now, I-” he paused.

“They want you to go with them.”

“I have to.”

A shaky breath escaped your lungs, and you were kinda pissed at it- how dare that shaky breath reveal how you actually felt?  How dare it break free from your body, alerting Spencer that your world had just spun out sideways for the millionth time that week.

You were gonna square up with that fucking breath.

But first, without saying another word, you nodded towards the door.  Spencer nodded back.  Like that, he was gone.  You watched him go.  You stared at the empty doorway after he’d left.   The room remained silent.

I mean, it did until it didn’t- your friends couldn’t watch that and say nothing.  I don’t think anybody could.

“Holy shit, you’re just gonna let him leave without saying goodbye?” Adam asked, looking between you and the door so quickly that you were almost surprised that his head didn’t fly off.

“He’s down bad,” Frank whispered, nodding in agreement, “Go get him.”

“I- he’s gonna be back in five minutes,” you tried to reason.  It didn’t work.

“He could be back never!  He might die!” Missy ran forward, gripping your shoulders.

“He’s got a bulletproof vest-”

“THERE IS SO MUCH THOSE THINGS DON’T COVER!!” Missy progressed to shaking you, slightly, “Go get him!  Hurry, before it’s too late!”

“I really don’t know what you want me to say here.”

“Tell him you’re also down bad!” Frank exclaimed, no longer whispering.

“Down bad-?  What the fuck does that even mean,” you said, your voice growing quieter and quieter as you left the room and headed down the hallway.

“... Y’know, they taught me what ‘down bad’ means.”

“Same.”

As your friends continued to discuss, you were already halfway down the hallway, walking as fast as you could given the hospital setting.  Spencer was nowhere to be seen and you really didn’t have time to look.  You really had one choice.  The elevators.

You reached them just in time to watch that lanky noodle motherfucker step inside.

Giving up on decorum, you raced through the hospital corridor, yelling out apologies at every human person you passed- fortunately there weren’t too many, so it wasn’t like you caused a massive disturbance.  Most people just thought you were having your rom-com finale moment.  Maybe some part of you was trying to, but honestly, you weren’t really thinking about it.  You were mostly just thinking, “Shit, shit, shit, I have to get in that elevator.”

And you did!  You made it!  You stumbled through the doors and came to a stop in the middle of that tiny box.  Spencer reached out to steady you, his expression letting you in on his amused confusion.  You smiled up at him, trying not to pant- and then you came to a realization.

You had no fucking clue what the hell you were going to say.

To be fair, what the fuck is a person supposed to say in that situation?  “Heyyyy, my friends think I’m in love with you, so now I’m here, wanna talk about that before you head into a dangerous situation involving a hitman and many guns?”

Or perhaps, “Hey!  You’re a good person even though I keep insisting you aren’t one, so I want you to know that you’re a good person before I send you off to get murdered!”

Or maybe, “You’re hot, I’m hot, wanna spend the next thirty seconds doing terrible things to this elevator that will get us forcibly removed from this hospital?”

Or even, “Hi, you just did a really nice thing for my friends, and I really appreciate it, and even though I don’t express it, I do care about you a lot, so maybe don’t die in the next few hours.  For me.  Please.”

In the end, you just settled for, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Spencer replied, not taking his hands from your shoulders even though you were more than steady, “Is everything okay?”

“Okay?  Yeah,  yeah, everything is, um.  Everything’s fine.  I just-”  you froze again, because seriously, what the fuck could you say right then and there?  What could you say that would let him know everything you wanted him to know?

“Are you sure?” he looked at you, held you with such delicate concern.  You kind of wanted to partake in elevator ruining activities with Spencer until the two of you got kicked out of the hospital together. 

“Yeah- yeah!  Everything’s- I’m okay, it’s just,” you raised your hand, letting it hover between the two of you for a moment before you placed it over one of his, “Come out of this alive.  Make sure everyone else does, too, but… come out of this okay, okay?”

Spencer hesitated.  And then he wrapped his hand around yours and brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles ever so briefly.

“I will.  I promise.”

The elevator bell dinged.  You’d reached the parking lot.  Spencer let go of your hand with a different kind of hesitation.  

“I’ll see you soon,” he offered, “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Spencer disappeared into the parking lot, dashing out of sight and into danger.  You stood there, watching until the elevator doors slid shut and that infernal box pulled you back up again.  The humming metal lights above and the clanking metal around you harmonized into the perfect soundscape for your empty mind.

Spencer was heading into danger, as he always did.  You were returning to serve your community, as you always did.  Spencer might not come back, and you would always remain, and you realized that when the case was over, he would go back to Quantico with the BAU, and you probably wouldn’t see him ever again.

And it broke your heart a little bit.  Maybe more than a little bit.  A little bit, perhaps.

You were a long way from, “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, go die,” indeed.

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, @ghostatrixx, @reiding-writing, @mywellspringoflife, @80katie, @ms-ks-world, @logicalhorror if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!! if you would like to be tagged and aren't, also let me know!!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #x reader #nightmare academia

[hazelsmirrorball]

My Girlfriend is a Werewolf | Hazel Callahan

Pairings: werewolf! Hazel Callahan x fem! Reader 

Summary: People are going insane trying to kill the new werewolf in town due to the fact they have a big bounty attached to their head. Y/n desperately needs the money but Hazel is a little defensive of the fact that the trio wants to kill a werewolf.  Warnings: death, blood, werewolves. Not proof read. Sorry for any mistakes, English isn't my main language.  a/n: something for halloween! Hope you guys like it! I really love reading ur comments, they really make my day <3

part two

The term supernatural beings wasn’t new to people at Rockbridge. The phenomena or entities beyond the laws of nature was something familiar to them. Angels, demons, gods and spirits people knew of them but they never expected them to be real and come to their town. But when a new lycanthrope had shown up to Rockbridge taking its citizens as bait made people worry for their lives not wanting to be killed by the claws of a wolf. 

The first werewolf had shown up almost a century ago. A group of sorcerers had enslaved a powerful demon and when they had removed the spirit, they had put it in a powerful box named “triskelion”. The sorcerers had selected an honorable demon hunter to bestow the triskelion upon him. The power of the triskelion turned the hunter into the first ever werewolf who was full of rampage. After an ungodly amount of years of running in rampage, the werewolves disappeared, until now. 

The people were going insane when it popped on the news that a student from Rockbridge High had been found with his chest slashed. The citizens knew that this was an act of a werewolf and they were coming to get vengeance on the town that had vanished them. 

50,000,000 dollars to the person that brought the werewolf that was going around town dead or alive to the authorities. 

All the news headlines were the same. Rockbridge was a town where people had monster hunting in their blood. Everyone wanted to get their hands on the werewolf for two reasons, the money they had attached to their name or the safety of the town, but mainly it was the money. 

Everyone was scared, yes people around here were supernatural things coming from time to time but that werewolf had killed hundreds of innocent people. People were aware that he was powerful. Due to the things that were going around town, students were taught about  the history of a werewolf and how to deal with one. 

Lycanthropes have enhanced physical capabilities that are far greater than any human or animal. They had razor-sharp claws & fangs that could be used for killing their prey. All werewolves are seen with blue, gold, or red eyes which seem to glow, seemingly when the werewolves are feeling considerable emotion, oftentimes anger.

Although werewolves often use their claws to slash through things and slash their prey in half, they are quite capable of being used in gouging attacks and are often best-suited for holding onto an unfortunate victim while the larger and sharper canine teeth are used to kill. A werewolf's bite is indeed very powerful, easily capable of breaking the thickest bones of any animal of any size comparable to cattle and below. The tooth pattern of the werewolf is similar to that of a wolf, with four very large canines, two on the upper jaw and two on the lower, with four incisors in between each. Behind them are the premolars which are used to tear flesh, and finally, the molars at the very back for chewing. The musculature of the head is presumably that of an enlarged dire wolf's, in that the structure and shape of killing.

How did Y/n know all those things about werewolves? Well, she could assure you it wasn’t the fact she had learned it at school, that’s for sure. She had investigated, well all her friend group had investigated about the supernatural creature. PJ, Josie and Y/n were certain that they were going to catch that werewolf and kill it. All three of them desperately needed the money so they were going to risk everything to get it. 

The reward had originally started at 100 dollars but as the beast killed more people or got older the amount would increase exponentially. There was a rumor going around town that they were going to push up to a rough $500,000,000 due to the latest kills the werewolf had done. 

“Tomorrow’s a full moon. I personally think we should go to the woods and find that damn wolf. People don’t want to risk their lives by going to the woods on a full moon so it increases our chances of getting the money for just the three of us.” PJ said, placing her sandwich down as she looked at the new “lycanthrope” book Josie had checked out from the library. Josie and Y/n stayed quiet not knowing if it was a good idea to put themselves in the middle of the war zone. Yes, it was a huge amount of money but was it really worth it if one of them died or worse the three of them were ripped to shreds.  Before one of them could say anything, Hazel Callahan sat next to Y/n placing a soft kiss on her lips. 

“Hey babe” Y/n smiled softly staring at Hazel in aw while PJ threw her head back groaning. Hazel turned to PJ seeing the book in her hands rolling her eyes dramatically. 

“Hazel. I’ve already told you this, you are not a part of her club. This is a private meeting and locking lips with Y/n doesn’t excuse you to the rules. So please do us a favor and leave” PJ replied, closing the book roughly sending a glare towards Hazel as she placed her things down not giving PJ a second thought. 

“PJ, everyone in school knows that you guys want to kill that poor werewolf. It’s not that big of a secret. If you guys wanted it to be a secret I wouldn’t turn the cafeteria table into a detective string board, it’s a dead giveaway.” Hazel said while taking a bite of her food as Y/n leaned towards her. 

“Oh, shut up Hazel. Poor werewolf? You don’t know a thing about our plans or about werewolves so why don’t you shut it” PJ exclaimed angrily, while she slammed her hands against the table. 

“Actually, I do know about your guys' plans. Just because I sit next to Y/n doesn’t mean I don’t  hear the dumb shit you three say. Werewolfs are dangerous and I know you guys act all strong in fight club. But we are not talking about teenage girls, we are talking about a man eating werewolf. They could snap you in half just by looking at you. Personally I think you guys should drop it, this week werewolves are as vicious as possible because the full moon is near and I really care about you guys to find you three dead” Hazel said, dropping her spoon to look at the girls seriously. 

“Hazel, you are literally the strongest of the three of us. You almost killed Sylvie with that punch you gave her last week. You are inhumanly strong. If you helped us we could take down that werewolf. We could split the money four ways. Don’t you want to be ric…You know what scratch that. We already know you're loaded. Help your girlfriend out, you know she needs it.” Josie started looking at Hazel with sympathetic eyes. She shook her head now wrapping her arm around Y/n protectively. 

“I’ll help and protect her by telling her to stay in and not do dumb shit with you two. Forget about that money, haven’t you guys seen how many people died trying to kill it. I know that werewolf isn’t trying to kill people, maybe it’s just defending itself” Hazel said defensively squeezing Y/n’s side. 

“Hazel, since when did you become the biggest werewolf defender? It’s killing people so it should fucking die and rot in hell.” Pj responded in the same tone. Y/n let out a sigh making Hazel turn to look at her.

“I really need that money, Haze.” Y/n said, breaking her silence while Hazel looked at her with pity eyes. 

Hazel knew that her girlfriend wasn’t one of the richest persons around. She lived in the poorest part of town and her parents barely made enough to keep the three of them alive. Hazel also knew that she really needed the money and that Y/n’s parents were at the verge of being fired. Y/n had big dreams, going to college with her friends was one of them but the bad income surrounding her life made it quite impossible for her to dream. Putting herself out in the wild to kill the werewolf would finally make her economically stable but at what cost?

Hazel Callahan was scared. Deadly afraid of being killed at night, but not because of the fact that there was a raging killing werewolf but the fact that people wanted to kill the raging killing werewolf. Hazel’s name was worth 500,000,000, everyone wanted her dead or atleast the wolf version of herself. 

Hazel had inherited her great grandmother's lupine parvovirus which was responsible for her lycanthropy. Her “powers” had shown up around freshman year, superhero strength, innate wellness and immunity to all diseases, animal senses and enhanced mobility, combat ability, endurance and stamina, meta regeneration and much more. Hazel at first had everything under control, she had informed herself about everything and had managed to keep herself and everyone safe why she was in her wolf form. She had found in her basement inhumane chains, which she had found herself chained up to every full moon. But everything changed when her feelings got involved with her inner wolf. 

Even though Hazel thought she had everything under control, when she had heard a football player talking about her girlfriend all she could see was red. She had ended in the middle of the woods, something that she rarely did after she became a wolf. As she tried to ease up out of nowhere the football player had shown up  and Hazel had snapped to reality when she noticed the dead football player under her. After all that, hell had broken loose. 

Everyone had it out for her, she had found herself trying to hide her wolf form but after that killing she couldn’t control it anymore. She didn’t want to kill all those people, but all of them came launching towards her and in her wolf form all type of hits were deadly. 

So after the night hit, Hazel wasn’t in control, she became a man eating monster. All she felt was rage and hate. They had increased the bounty on her, which angered her more than ever. If people were really out to get her she was going to make their lives a living hell. Hazel stood in hiding waiting for someone to show up, she knew that someone was going to be brave enough to kill her before the full moon. She could see from her hiding two silhouettes approaching her area. Hazel took a whiff smelling the wolfsbane near, they came prepared, they had true intention. So before they could come near her, Hazel lashed out not even waiting for them to say a word, ripping them into  pieces. All she could see was red, blood covered all of their bodies as she continued pounding onto them. Screams and cries for mercy begged her to stop which made Hazel go even rougher on them. She could hear both of their heartbeat stopped.  Her breath became heavy as she tried catching up with her anger but before she could continue going any further she looked at the familiar lifeless eyes looking at her. She could feel her heart stopped and her body slowly shifting in her normal form. She slowly reached for her clothes, slipping them on quickly while looking down at the bloody faces. Hazel could feel her heart stop as she looked for words to say at the dead bodies in front of her.

At first, Hazel had felt bad for killing but as the weeks passed by she felt content because she knew they were out to get her. The people that wanted her dead didn’t have a reason so she did have a reason to kill them. But right now, it was like a sense of humanity had shown up once again. She felt horrible, like a true evil monster from those films she would watch with Y/n. 

She hoped the pair would succeed in killing her, knowing that they actually needed it. That if she was dead they could be happy and she wouldn’t even mind at all. But now they were dead and all she could feel was the guilt spilling upon her. The people that had received her with open arms were dead on the floor. The family that had shown her nothing but love and accepted her in their family were dead because of her. The two people that had supported Hazel through everything while her mom and dad were mia, were dead.  

Y/n’s last hope of family was dead, killed by the claws her girlfriends had. So not only were they dead, now Hazel was going to be dead to her.

...

next part

Thank you for reading

#hazel callahan imagine #hazel x reader #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #ruby cruz x reader #ruby cruz #pj bottoms #Josie bottoms #kit tanthalos x reader #kit tanthalos #bottoms movie #Hazel Callahan bottoms

[ohtobeleah]

This whole situation has me far too stressed out to live my life normally. All I do is worry about Fe and Dot. I NEED AN UPDATE!

I used my entire day to write this so please 🙏 keep the engagement going. Masterlist is linked here

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Jake thought he was going crazy. As he laid over the covers of his bed, far too hot to be under the heavy duvet, Jake thought he was going crazy. 

“The fuck is that?” He groaned to himself as he turned on his side, taking quick notice of the time that read on his old school analog alarm clock. It was nearing two in the morning and he had yet to be taken hostage by the three melatonin gummies he’d drugged himself with a few hours prior. 

Jake flung his legs over the side of his bed, pushing up and off with a groan before padding over to his window to investigate what the incessant pestering noise was knocking against his ajar window. 

“You’ve got to be shitting me—“ Jake sighed to himself as he opened his window, hanging half his body out as he reached down to grab your outstretched and awaiting hand. “Jesus Y/n it’s two in the morning?” 

“I need a place to crash—“ It wasn’t until Jake saw your face properly in the dim light of his room as he pulled you up and into his room through the window that he caught sight of the bloodied nose you had. The swollen eye and split that cut across your bottom lip. Recognising the shock that had swiped across Jake's face, you beat him to the question that was about to leave his mouth. “Before you ask, you should see the other guy.” It honestly wasn’t that deep of an issue. 

“What do you mean other guy?” Jake asked as he assessed the damage, swiping the pad of his thumb across your lip as he held your face in the palms of his hands. Holding you still as you stood before him. “What have you been getting yourself into.” You tossed up if you should just tell the truth or fabricate some elaborate story, but the longer you made Jake wait for a reply, you settled for the truth. 

“Ethan Callahan called you a pussy bitch so I broke his nose.” You smiled through bloodied teeth, chuckling slightly as Jake's eyes widened in shock horror. “I run a ten minute mile Seresin but it’s just not quick enough to outrun Lucas Callahan when he's chasing you down the stairs.” 

“Jesus Christ Y/n what are you doing hanging around the Callahan’s for?” Jake hissed, still assessing the damage that looked more superficial than anything else. The Callahans were old money, rich in oil. Far more well off than the Seresins were and Jake couldn't stand them or their family. Their sister though, well she was a real looker. 

“I was with Ethan—“ Your voice sounded ever so soft as you explained your whereabouts and extracurricular activities to your best friend. “Until he said you were a pussy and instead of being under him I was over him real quick.” You teased. “Cracked his nose and his bitching work up his dickhead brother who had no problem smacking me around a little.” Jake tried not to roll his eyes, he knew you were antagonistic but you didn’t deserve to be hit by a guy twice your size. 

“Ethan Callahan is a college senior at St Edwards.” Jake smirked, pulling you close so he could kiss your forehead while his hand held the back of your head still. “You’re a freshman at Concordia—“

“Yeah but I fuck like a sophomore.” Was all you said back. Missing the warmth Jake's hands brought to your bloodied face when he let go to grab the towel hanging off the back of his desk chair, squeezing water into the material from the water bottle that sat on his night stand before pressing it to your eye. “Thanks—“ 

“Stay away from the Callahans, they’re bad news—“ Jake just shook his head in defeat. “And I don’t wanna know about your sex life either—“ He squinted at the thought, a bad image if there ever was one. “I’ve been called worse things than a Pussy—you don’t have to jump to my defence every time someone has something unkind to say.” Jake sighed, he hated seeing you like this. “But Lucas is lucky I don’t break his neck for doing this to you.” 

“Please—you couldn’t hit water if you fell out of a boat Jake.” As soon as you insulted him, Jake was pressing the towel he held against your eye into you a little more. “Ow! Fuck alright alright—“ You whined out playfully. “It was just a date, after he turned out to be a dickhead though there’s not going to be another one that’s for sure.” 

You were in this weird transition phase of your life. You were at a crossroads so to speak, killing time at Concordia on a scholarship you’d managed to get your hands on after pulling your thumb out just in time. Jake was there to keep you on the straight and narrow, he always had been—but that didn’t mean you didn’t try your luck at corrupting him from time to time. Succeeding plenty, failing some. 

You were waiting for your Naval Academy Application to be approved, as was Jake Seresin—but instead of college he took a gap year. Earning a living working at the local loading dock until his papers were approved. 

“If it’s a date you’re looking for I know a guy.” Jake should have stopped talking then and there, but he didn’t. He kept going. “He’s just some guy I played football with in senior year.” 

“God it’s not Alex Ryan is it?” You groaned, squinting as Jake took the towel away from your eye. Deciding you needed to sit down to save the bout of dizziness starting to set in from the head rush. 

“Jaidyn Dolan—he’s a decent guy, should keep you entertained long enough to keep you out of trouble, if I’m lucky.” Jake watched as you sat on the corner of his bed—hesitant to make yourselves at home because his mother was down stairs and she couldn’t stand the sight of you. Hence the not so graceful way you scaled up the side of Jake Seresin house, using the pipe that ran up the side near his window. You knew why she didn't like you, but that fact didn't make it any easier of a pill to swallow. Especially since she’d been the closest thing you ever had to a mother. 

“Please, don't pretend that you didn’t get an erection the second I told you I defended your honour.” You knew you were right as Jake moved a hand to cover his boxer brief clad erection that was as noticeable as ever. 

“Oh I did, and I’m gonna be pitching a fucking tent for the rest of the night thinking about how you decked Ethan Callahan.” Jake laughed, watching as you crawled into his bed. The only place you felt safe enough to actually rest. “Still doesn’t mean it was worth it.” 

Jake crawled into his bed behind you, like he’d done effortlessly time and time before. He loved you so much. But not the way everyone thought he loved you. It wasn’t just surface level the way Jake Seresin loved you. He loved you on a deeper level. Fiercely and protectively and you loved him back just as fiercely and just as tenderly. 

“Nah, fuck that—“ You mumbled, feeling Jake pull you tight and pull you close as his chin dropped into the groove your shoulder and neck. “You’re worth it—“ Correcting Jake, you let yourself close your eyes and relax. “You’re my best friend, I’d do just about anything to protect you, including but not limited to smacking a dickhead for calling you a pussy.” 

There was silence for a moment as you and Jake listened to the seconds ticking by from the analog clock sitting on Jake’s bedside table. He questioned for a few minutes if he really wanted to set you up with his highschool pal. But he just wanted you to be happy. You deserved to be happy, you didn’t deserve the Ethan and Lucas Callahans of the world. 

“Did you want me to set up something with Jaidyn?” Jake asked as he felt your body softening against his, knowing that you’d be gone before he woke up when the sun started to creep into his room. “Can text him tomorrow and organise a meet cute if you want.” Jakes met with silence, for a while he thinks you’ve already succumbed to the chokehold that his bed brings, that his warmth holds, that you’ve finally given in and gone to sleep after not being able to sleep in your dorm. 

“If he’s someone you think I should meet.” You mumbled back. “Can’t imagine it would be the worst thing in the world.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Jaidyn was a gambler. He had been all his life. He started out betting on football matches, fixing scores and rigging games. He bet on horses and cars and as soon as he could step foot inside one he spent hundreds at casinos if given the chance. He was an addict, addicted to adrenaline, the rush of endorphins. Constantly looking for his next hit. He got that rush from alcohol, from flying F-18’s, from hitting you until he broke you. Jaidyn never intended to become what he had—a monster, a man who prayed on the fear he inflicted on you. But it was his favourite drug of all. 

Jaidyn’s favourite thing to bet on was you. He’d make bets with himself and his buddies that knew how he was to see just how much you could handle. He hadn’t managed to kill you yet after all these years but he damn well knew he’d been close. Especially that one time when he’d given you alcohol poisoning. He lost the bet that night when he’d come home to an empty AirBnB. And if there was something that set a gambler off more than anything it was losing a bet they for sure thought they were going to win. 

“I'm off boys—“ Jaidyn shoved his flight suit into his locker as Fanboy and Payback stood idly by, not wanting to start up a conversation with the guy who everyone knew was bad news. “See you both when I’m looking at ya.” Payback couldn’t not ask though, before he knew how to stop himself he was asking, coping a hand to the chest from Fanboy who just side eyed him for engaging. They’d been told not to engage! 

“Where you heading man?” Jaidyn just smirked to himself, oh how he loved winning. And won he had. “Little before five o’clock, must be something important to earn yourself an early mark?” 

“Im off to see a sweet little lady—“ Was all he said. Cryptic enough to have both Fanboy and Payback frowning, yet not deep enough to have them stumbling over their own two feet to notify someone. “See you boys tomorrow.” As casually as ever, Jaidyn left the locker room. Making his way down the hall and chuckling a right to make his way to the Janitor’s closet he’d left you in hours ago. Laughing to himself when he’d realised he’d gotten away with murder. Deciding he’d wasted enough time—heading out towards the car park to collect his little girl.

But not before he’d managed to cut Bradley Bradshaw's throttle cable. He wasn’t going anywhere without knowing the fact that the next flight Rooster took?

would be his last. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Hours. Hours upon hours had passed you by. That’s what it felt like anyway when you came to. Groaning as the sudden onset of swollen muscles and aching joints overcame you. 

The sun had moved. There was barely any natural sunlight shining through the janitor's closet as you laid in a heap on the floor amongst random objects that had fallen off the shelves you’d been slammed into. Disinfectant, mop heads, rolls of black and white garbage bags, multicoloured buckets of different kinds of chemicals. 

All you could do was cry. There was nothing left for you to do as the idea of Jaidyn setting out to do exactly what he’d told you he would eventually do overwhelmed your mind. He was gonna take your little girl away from you, no matter how hard you tried or what you did to keep him away, he inevitably won. Exactly like he told you he would. 

Jake didn’t mean to lie. You knew that much, but Jaidyn Dolan was a dangerous dangerous man with no moral compass—you should have run when you had the chance. You should have taken Odette and left North Island behind. But now here you were—beaten half to death in the place of your employment, lying on the floor of a janitor's closet tied and bound. You didn’t want to die here. Not like this, not with any shred of dignity left. 

So, with all the strength you could muster and with all the might you had—you pushed yourself up onto your knees, whaled out as you stretched and felt your rips pressing into your lungs. Squinting away the tears you were tired of spilling before you shimmied your way over to the door. Allowing yourself to catch your pained breath as you sat against it. Using all the strength you had left to do the only thing you could think of to grab someone, anyone’s attention that might be waking by. 

You sat and cried and banged your head against the door of the janitor’s closet. From the hallway. All that could be heard every few seconds was a faint thud. Barely audible, but it was there. 

A faint but steady and determined thud.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“I've got one more hop, then I'm finished–'' Jake was exhausted, between actually trying to get some work done and yelling at his Admiral to pull his thumb out, Jake had spent the better half of his day searching for where you might have gone. With every hour that passed, with every second that went by in the blink of an eye, Jake's worry had begun to skyrocket to highest uncharted. “You still haven't heard from her?” Jake asked as he met back up with Bradley in your hanger, still as untouched as it had been from the moment you had come running out of it with Bob earlier that same day. 

“I thought maybe she was just avoiding me.” Bradley sighed as he looked around your hanger, focusing on all the pictures that you had pinned up on your cork board. “At the risk of sounding like an eighth grader, she dumped me.” Bradley's lip twitched as he spoke that fact into existence. His eyes never left the photo of the two of you embracing one another at the Hard Deck as he spoke. His mind was running a thousand miles an hour as to where you could be. “She could have left? Gone and got Dot?” For the least logical explanation, it was still the most believable. “I mean if she was still on base Hangman, we would have caught up with her by now.” 

“I'm gonna ring her again.” Jake grumbles out, he's been trying your phone periodically throughout the day ever since you left Admiral Simpsons office. Each text was left unresponded to yet delivered. Every call was met with your voicemail. Unbeknownst to Jake, Jaidyn had taken your phone and thrown it in the garbage. “I'm starting to think she’d just vanished off the face of the earth. Before Jake was able to press on your contact, a stupid photo of you with two cheese puffs shoved up your nose from highschool, there's a caller ID flashing across his screen that he isn't sure if he should answer right this second in the midst of what feels like a missing persons case. “Uh–” Jake's lips curled upright into a smirk that Bradley hardly caught before theses a hume spreading across his cheeks, bashfully. “I should probably take this.” 

“Who's Amilia?” Bradley leaned over to investigate what, or more appropriately, who, had Jake suddenly looking like a kid who's just had his cheeks pinched too hard by his grandma. 

“The girl from the station–” Is all Jake is explaining before he's swiping his thumb across his screen and holding his phone up to his ear, watching as Braldey rolls his eyes. Of course even in the middle of an impending crisis, Jake Seresin is still picking up. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Amilia Fisher was lost. She felt like she was going nowhere in her life. She had spiralled so deep into an existential crisis she didn’t know how to pull herself out of it. A Personal Trainer turned Personal Tragedy. 

Most days were good, some were mediocre at best—and others? Well, some days she couldn’t find the energy to pull herself up and out of bed. Which quite frankly sucked ass because when people look at you like you had your head screwed on straight and knew all the answers to all their burning questions, it’s hard to accept the reality staring at you in the mirror. 

She’d been sucked in and spat out by an industry that thrived off insecurities and eating disorders disguised as clean eating meal plans that don’t inherently cause unhealthy relationships with food—but gave you all the means to develop those tendencies yourself. 

She was lost, but as she sat in the carpark of her nephews day care centre, Amilia collected herself with a deep inhale and a prolonged exhale. In through the nose and out through the mouth. 

“She’ll be right.” Amilia mumbled to herself as she unclipped her seatbelt, stepping out of her sister's car she’d been borrowing while playing baby driver. Her sister Chelsea had married some Naval Aviator who she’d met while travelling the states on a solo trip a few years back. They were young and in love and although a few years had passed they were still happily married and very much in love. Reuben was good people. That much she knew, and while Amilia tried to hold her life together she decided a sea change (Or entire career change in another country) would help fight off the ever looming threat of war that raged between her critical thinking skills and her intrusive thoughts.

Amilia Fisher had the emotional integrity of a limp noodle at the crossroads point she’d reached in her life. The last thing she needed while she was just trying to pick her nephew Chase up, was to run into the very man she’d seen in the car park earlier that same day—instigating an altercation for reasons she knew nothing about. 

“Hi, my name’s Jaidyn?” The man who stood before her told the receptionist at Sunny Side who he was. “I’m here for my little girl? Odette.” Amilia swore time slowed down as she quickly turned on her heels, knowing that whoever this man was he shouldn’t have been back at the daycare. 

“Uh—okay, fuck, okay.” Amilia knew it was probably just a little crazy to care, but she just had a feeling this wasn’t good. That something was wrong. Maternal instincts be damned, anyone with two eyes and a heartbeat could see something was up. So with a small amount of reluctance and a whole lot of self doubt—Amilia pressed on the contact that had been freshly added to her contact list that morning. 

Hangman

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Miss Fisher–” Jake smiles for what feels like the first time since he met Amilia that morning. Fuck, it had been a long day at this point hadnt it. “To what do I owe this incredibly unexpected call?” Fighting off the egre to flirt back, Amilia bit her bottom lip and reminded herself that this wasnt a selfish call, she could be selfish later and selfish with Jake she wanted to be because fuck–getting her rocks off with a Naval Aviator might just be what she needed to feel alive again. “Amilia?” 

“I could be wrong, so please just forget I ever called if I am but the guy who you beat the shit out of is here picking up a little girl named Odette and I just wanted you to know in case he wasn't meant to be here.” Bradley sees all the colour in Jake's face immediately drain and he knows something’s wrong. 

“Wait, hold on, what do you mean?” It's like his brain won't process what Amilia is trying to tell him. “You’re at Sunny Side?” 

“Yeah, I'm picking up my nephew, that guy is in at reception now–said he was there to pick up his little girl?” Jake feels his heart stop, he can't breathe. “Jake?” 

“I need you to do me a favour.” Jake Seresin wasn't a beggar, but he was about to drop to his knees and plead with Amilia to run an intervention. “Please don't let him leave with her.” 

“What do you want me to do?” Amilia asks as she watches one of the early educators walk through the doors into the day care to go collect Odette. Time was ticking, she had to think fast. 

“Whatever you can, Amilia, look–” Jakes still looking at Bradley who is putting bits and pieces of the puzzle together just by what he can hear. “I know you don't know me but I need you to keep him there until I can get there.” Jakes met with silence as Amilia looked over to the car she recognised from that same morning, tossing up the options her borderline manic mind was thinking could work. “Amilia?”  

“I'm on it.” Amilia shakes herself out of a trance-like state. She's committed to her next move, racing back to her sister's car to pop the boot and rummage through the craziest survival kit she’s ever seen. Making a mental note to see if her sister needed a psych evaluation too or if she just thoroughly enjoyed camping a little too much. “Just, get here before I get arrested.” 

When Jake hung up his phone all he could see was red. His heart rate was beyond fast, his hands were clammy and he swore for a moment he might actually be having a heart attack as he held two fingers up to his neck to check his pulse. 

“He's gone for Dot hasn't he.” Bradley knows the answer, he didn't even need to ask. But he did regardless and when Jake nodded in response with tears welling in his eyes, Bradley knew they were racing against time. “Fe–” 

“Would you want us to put Dot first, Rooster– without question.” Jake cuts Bradley off before he can finish his sentence. “Odette comes first, end of story.” Bradley can't find it in himself to stop looking for you though, he knows if Dot is still in daycare then you've been here this entire time. 

“You go.” Bradley could practically hear your SOS as he stood in the silence of your workshop with Jake. Your brother, the closest thing you had to family. Bradley would send out an army to find you, but he’d be leading the troops. “You go get Dot, I'll stay here and keep looking.” Jake groaned, he couldn't think straight, to him his mind was misconstruing the fact Bradley wanted to stay meant he didn't care enough. 

“Yeah–” Scoffing, Jake shook his head. “Right, I get it, not your daughter, not your problem right?” There was no beating around the bush when it came to the fact tensions were at an all time high. “Great man, nah dont fucking sweat it ill take care of it.” But that didn't mean Bradley was going to take that, not when he'd stuck by you thought all of this. 

“I'm not gonna leave Y/n behind.” Rooster shot back, it was far too quick of a retaliation for Jake to not realise that that thought must have been prevalent in Bradley's mind. He'd just been waiting for a moment to throw it in his face. Jake just took the hit, he turned on his heels and took a few strides before Bradley dug the knife a little deeper, watching as Jake paused to soak up the blow he knew was true. He knew every word Bradley spoke was true, he’d left you behind before and he was about to do it again–only this time he knew you’d want him to. You'd want him to make sure Odette didn't end up with the monster that was Jaidyn. So he took it, he could take it, Jake deserved the title of deserter, because he was one. But he’d be damned if Jaidyn was going to get a hold of Dot. Knowing the lengths you’d go to to protect her yourself. 

“I'll leave that to you man.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Jake held your hand the entire time you were in active labour. He was with you from the very beginning all the way through till the moment Odette Dolan let out her first cries into the universe. As you sat bound and bloodied, thumping your head against the door of the janitor's closet, your mind had begun to wonder. Although you knew that there was a chance here that someone would find you after it was too late, you also knew in that case that Jake would be the most fearsome protector of your little girl if something were to happen to you. He was her godfather, her guardian if something happened to you. You’d made sure of that when you realised how deep you were woven into your mess with Jaidyn. How dangerous and how much effort it was going to take to break free. 

“Bringing life into this world's like bringing a grain of sand to the beach but— the thing is Fe, that your little girl's like ten point five grams of you and him love.” Jake cooed as he sat beside you, pushing your hair from your sweat covered forehead as you held your daughter to your chest for the first time. “She’s perfect.” As if the memory of when you’d given birth to Odette was playing out like a rolodex being flipped through, you closed your eyes and mumbled out from behind the makeshift gag shoved in your mouth. Remembering what you’d told Jake as you laid with Dot for the first time. Taking in all she was and who she’d grow up to be. 

“I’d die for her.” 

“Everything from your past is passed on.” Jake spoke softly, tracing his index finger over her back. “It survives, it's alive in your daughter.” Everything that made you, you, made Odette her. “You ever think there's a link when we pass on? She might pass on five and a quarter.”  Day dreaming of that memory free as a bird, you were just trying to focus when the scenery blurs. You collapsed to the floor, rendered unconscious from the pain flooding your body. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Bradley was kicking himself as he searched around the graveyard. A nickname they’d all given to the section of the tarmac that they used to harbour old fighter jets that were decommissioned for various reasons. It’s where the old F-14 Maverick had stolen to get him and Rooster the hell out of dodge ended up—until it found its new home in one of your bays, you’d been restoring it back to its once pristine condition. Admiral Simpson was quite eager to see what magic you could work. 

“Where the fuck are you Fe?” Rooster sighed to himself as he looked around, kicking himself for what he’d said to Jake. He didn’t mean it. Jake was just doing what he thought you’d want him to do, what he knew you’d want him to do. But someone had to be there for you for once in your fucking life. Someone had to put you first, above anyone else. 

“Come on Y/n, you’ve gotta be around here somewhere—“ He was growing desperate. So desperate in fact that his heart ached in his chest. Something was fucking wrong here. “Fuck this.” Bradley hissed when he realised you weren't pulling organs from old super hornets for part transplants. Deciding he needed to tell Cyclone that you’d been missing for the better half of the day and that something needed to be done to find you. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**~

The more Admiral Simpson sat on the events that transpired in his office earlier, the more he caught himself wondering if he’d done the wrong thing. He was just following protocol when he’d asked for evidence more than he said she said. He couldn’t castrate a member of the US Navy on the basis of accusation. 

What he could do however, was do what he’d promised he would and check out the footage that Lieutenant Floyd mentioned would have been taken from your hanger. 

“Okay—“ Beau sighed as he sat down at his desk. “Let’s see what we’re working with here.” He mumbled to himself as he brought his coffee cup up to his lips, logging into Net2 to comb through the list of security cameras on base. 

Clicking through the squares, there was nothing unusual happening in real time that caught Admiral Simpson's attention, just being a little noisy before he went back through the logs cost him though as he clicked next in the visible camera listings that appeared on his screen. 

“Oh my god.” Admiral Simpson spat the sip of coffee he’d just taken all over himself as he came across the live feed of the janitor's closet camera that sat in the top right hand corner of his screen. Clicking on it, it enlarged the view he saw of you. Laying tied and unconscious on the floor. “Oh my god—“ He was up in seconds, racing out of his office as face as he could, running into Bradley Bradshaw who was just about to knock on the Admirals office door and beg him to help him in his search for you. 

“Sir—“ 

“Bradshaw—“ 

“I need your help looking for Fe, she’s missing.” Bradley explained, he’d never felt so defeated. “I’m worried—“ 

“I know where she is.” Cyclone replied, nodding frantically as he physically turned Rooster on his heels and shoved him down the hall. “Go, go! Janitors closet down the hall to the right.” Bradley tried his best to catch up with what was going on—but even felt like it was moving a thousand miles an hour and he was frozen in place. “Saw her on the goddamn camera when I went to look back at the hanger footage from earlier.” Cyclone couldn’t believe what was happening, he felt responsible for this especially, he should have taken Rooster and Hangmans desperation as enough evidence to pull Jaidyn up. 

But he didn’t and that was on him. 

Bradley had never moved so quickly before in his life. The second Admiral Simpson opened the closet door and he saw you? He felt an unimaginable amount of rage rushing through his veins. 

“Y/n!” Bradley gasped as he pushed past Cyclone and dropped to his knees, pulling you up into his lap. “Baby I’m here, hey I’m here darling oh my god I’m so sorry—hey, hey?”

“I’ll get Cindy from the infirmary to—“ Admiral Simpson didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as he stood there and watched Bradley cradle you in his arms. 

“YOUSONOFABITCH—'' It all came out as one word as Rooster let his rage run wild, aiming it directly at Beau Simpson who just stood there shell shocked. He was a three star Admiral, he’d seen a lot. But this? This was by far the worst thing he’d bore witness to. “She sat right in front of you! You saw she was in trouble and you let him walk out of your office scott fucking free!” 

“Lieutenant—“ 

“Don’t lieutenant me!” Bradley spat. “LOOK AT HER! Look at what he did to her!” As Bradley’s rage consumed every morsel of his being, your eyelids twitched as you stirred back to reality. “This!? Is on you—Sir, you could have prevented this but you didn’t. do. enough!!” 

“MMM!” Too incoherent and too dazed to register it was Bradley holding you, you started thrashing around in his grip, trying to protect yourself from whatever blow was about to come your way. “MMM—MMM!!” All Bradley's attention was drawn back to you as he held you tighter, his heart sank into his stomach when he heard your screams turn to painful sobs. 

“I’m here, hey it’s me, I’m here, I got you.” Bradley cried with you, he couldn’t keep it in, couldn’t be as strong as you needed him to be because seeing you like this shattered his heart beyond repair. “I told you I wasn’t going anywhere baby, I’m here.” 

“I’m sorry I’m so sorry—“ Rooster tried his best to peel the duct tape from your mouth without hurting you, but he knew it was best to rip the Band-Aid off so it was over with fast. “I’m sorry—“ He cried one more time before ripping it from your mouth, pulling the fabric soaked in saliva and blood from your mouth as you screamed as loud as you could. 

It broke Roosters heart. 

“Y/n, I’ve got you.” 

“Jaidyns gonna take Dot.” It was so hard to hear you cry the way you were crying as Braldey worked to untie your hands from behind your back. He headed the way the bracket he had given you made a hash indent from from the pressure. 

“Jakes on it.” Is all Bradley cooed as he caught his own tears falling from his face down onto yours. “Jakes on it, he’s gone to grab her.”

“He made me authorise him as a pick up—“ It came out through painful cries as Braldey just held you and rocked you as tight as he could. “Said he’d kill me.” 

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again, you hear me?” Rooster kissed the top of your head as you both sat on the ground of the janitor’s closet. Cyclone had made good on his word and gone to the infirmary. “Never letting you go baby, you don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve this at all.”

“I need to get to my daughter.” You replied, sitting up as Bradley helped up, reaching down to untie your ankles with a groan as your ribs caved in against your lungs. “Aahh!!—“ 

“I need to get you to a hospital Fe, you’re hurt, bad.” 

“No.” You mumbled, trying to stand although every attempt you stumbled back and fell back into Bradley's chest. “No, I'm fine, I just need to get to Dot.” The way you couldn't stop for a second to really process what had happened had Rooster frowning, you needed medical attention, you were hurt, bad, and there could be things wrong he couldn't see. Internal bleeding was one thing on his mind. “I need to get to my baby.” 

“Hey Y/n?” You weren't listening as Rooster tried to break through to you. “Darling, listen to me alright?” He begged, reaching out to touch the side of your face as gently as he could to turn your head to look at him. Noticing how broken your eyes looked through the swelling. “What Dot needs is for you to be alright, and for you to be alright I need to take you to a hospital to get checked out.” Your bottom lip quivered as you shook your head. Kneeling between Roosters legs as he sat on the ground before you. “Baby you gotta put yourself first this time, you've done all you can here.” 

“I was banging my head on the door trying to make enough noise.” Deflecting from the question, you explained that although you wanted to give up, you didn't. “I didn't just give up, I’m not weak–” 

“I would never think you're weak Y/n, you’re the strongest person I know.” It was hard to see you like this, so broken and fragile, flinching at every move Bradleey made. He understood though, you had always been a stray, now more so than ever before. Memories of your past with Jaidyn plagued your mind every time you blinked. You could hear him screaming at you inside your own head, trying to drown out all the kind, meaningful praises Bradley spoke into existence. “You are not weak, you did whatever you could to protect your daughter Y/n.” 

Bradley helped you stand, listening to every groan and every sob that escaped your mouth as he did so, knowing he needed to get you up so he could at least carry you out. But as you stood and turned into him, wrapping your arms around his torso before burying your swollen, bloodied and bruised face into his shoulder, Bradley thought his heart couldn't break any more than it already had. But then you spoke again and broke his heart even more. 

“I didn't do enough though–”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be  @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014  @blindedbythelightt @averyhotchner @emma8895eb @blairfox04 @caitsymichelle13 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @teacupsandtopgun @aemondssiut @feltonswifesworld87 @akalei349 @notjustsomeblonde  @americaarse @avaleineandafryingpan @phoenix1388 @xoxabs88xox @je-suis-prest-rachel @pono-pura-vida @rosiahills22 @starset21 @anarchyrising @caidi-paris @starkleila @criticalroleobssedperson @enchantingdreamergothprune @flrboyd

#terms of endearment// bradley bradshaw #terms of endearment #terms of endearment// jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradleybradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley x reader

[starffisher]

thinking about this stranger things dr i had in 2022 where i was shifting for officer callahan but it was like a detective/police investigation where we (try to) solve the mysteries of hawkins but when i posted it i got clowned and deleted the dr💔 why would i listen to them

can you blame me????? hes so fine

#shiftblr #shifting #reality shifting #desired reality #shifting realities #shifting blog #starffisher ᯓ★

[jodjuya]

One of the best genres in fiction is the noir-core convergent evolution collection of profoundly alcoholic, utterly dysfunctional, dangerously unstable, tormented, and wildly out-of-control chain-smoking renegade super-detective geniuses named Harry who cause ludicrous amounts of property damage in their obsessive and self-destructively-reckless fixation on Solving The Case and Getting Their Man, NO 👏 MATTER 👏 WHAT 👏 IT 👏 TAKES 👏

Irrevocably anguished in equal measures by the scumbags that he couldn't put away, the innocents that he couldn't save, the systems that failed him, and the dame that broke his soul, it's been 0 days since his last internal monologue, 1 day since his last fistfight, 2 days since his last sleep, 4 days since his last shave, 8 days since his last shower, 16 days since his overdue rent was due, and 32 days since his last bender.

COUNTERBALANCE WITH SAFE/SANE/CONSENSUAL SIDEKICKS TO TASTE

Shown here:

Lieutenant double-yefreitor Harrier "Harry" Du Bois, of the video game 'Disco Elysium'.

Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, wizard and private investigator, of the 'Dresden Files' series of novels.

Inspector Harold "Dirty Harry" Francis Callahan, of the 'Dirty Harry' film series.

Norwegian police officer Harry Hole, of the eponymous novel series and film adaptation.

(I discovered this guy exists only, like, an hour ago, but I'll be damned if he doesn't fit in perfectly right alongside the rest of these Loose-Cannon Lawmen)

"Dirty Harry" came along first, so I suspect he set the mould and the other three are in homage to some degree or another... 🤔

#harry du bois #harry dresden #dirty harry #disco elysium #dresden files #harry hole #blorbo #noir

[adobe-outdesign]

I know you probably aren't into FNaF anymore but I thought you'd be interested in knowing that a MASSIVE leak just happened. Basically, in 2023 a group called Fright's Dome got their hands on an old, completely unknown version of the Freddy Files that they dubbed the Talbert Files based on the author and paranormal investigator, Christopher Ryans-Talbert. Scott told them that he didn't necessarily care what they did with it, but he preferred it stay just between the group, and they decided to respect his wishes. This caused drama in the group and someone tried leaking it, but it was covered up until recently where personal DMs were leaked revealing its legit (which is honestly fucked up, those were private and personal conversations).

Basically, this old draft of the lore shows off some pre-FFPS storylines. I think the biggest part is that Henry and Charlotte WEREN'T originally planned to be part of the games, instead replaced by a man named Emmett Tucker and his daughter, Cassidy. Emmett created the Medicore Melodies, with Happy Frog made specifically for Cassidy, but William rejected them so he flipped and left. Cassidy possessed both the Puppet AND Golden Freddy, and the five kids reported was purely an error on investigators who saw Cassidy's ghosts on the cameras.

Other things include ages (in 1985 William was 40, Mike was 17, and Phone Guy was 34), names of the missing kids (Susie Mosteller, Gabriel Gardner, Jeremy Fitzgerald Jr., Fritz Smith Jr.), Phone Guy's name (Steven Callahan), acknowledgement of the SAVETHEM victims (they were teens who broke into Freddy's and was picked off by William), the SL gang becoming cryptids (Scrap Baby and Molten Freddy obviously, but Michael himself was also one known as the St. George Stitchwraith), Fazbear's Fright being made by FE to basically do what the indie games did successfully, Elizabeth's original name (Abaigael), and a journal entry from William Afton himself after the death of his youngest son that dives into his twisted ideals and motivations. There's a good chunk more, but those are just the key stuff. The overview document and some pages are making their way around the internet rn

just reading the first paragraph is like

#five nights at freddy's #.gif

[dragonmuse]

@trippyvulcan @bonsaibovine and two anons have asked for Pickle at the stakeout and who am I to argue?

"How do you spell 'mountain?" Pickle asked.

Izzy glanced in the rearview mirror. She was sitting in a way she tartly informed him was now called 'criss-cross applesauce' in the backseat with her little lapdesk pulled close. It was purple (never pink, she only liked purple) and there was a star pattern on the soft bottom. She had a few colored pencils in one hand, writing carefully with the other.

"M," Read said patiently, waiting for her to form the entire letter before offering the next.

Jim, in the passenger seat, hds unwavering focus on their target until Read says , 'I'

"A," Jim said absently.

"Really?" Read frowned.

"Yeah, A then I" Jim nods. "Pretty sure."

Pickle caught Izzy's eye in the mirror, apparently waiting for a deciding vote.

"Jim's right."

"Okay," she went on writing.

"I blame the public school system," Read muttered. "And spellcheck."

"Blame it on the rain," Jim shrugged. "Who cares? You're not getting graded on...what are you actually doing, P?"

"They show us a picture and we have to write three sentences about it," she sighed like the weight of the world is on her shoulders. "It's dumb."

"Homework is the worst," Read said sympathetically. "I gotta write a ten page paper when I get home."

"Ten?" Pickle asked, appalled. "How many sentences is that? A hundred?"

"At least," Read agreed.

"Did you do something wrong?"

"Nope. College classes are just like that sometimes."

"What do you have to write about?"

"Uh," Read, who was currently taking a truly disturbing class in child abuse that had resulted in several late night conversations where she and Izzy did not make eye contact and occasionally drank heavily, fumbled. "Boring adult stuff."

"Okay," Pickle accepted that. "Can I have a snack?"

"You already had one," Izzy reminded her. "Your mother will shatter my eardrums if I ruin your dinner."

"Again," Jim mumbled, lips twitching.

"I gotta pee," she announced another minute later.

Everyone groaned.

"I got it," Read decided. "There's a convenience store with one a block back, I'll get a bottle of water. Anyone else?"

"Yeah, thanks," Izzy nodded.

"I'm good," Jim shrugged.

It was definitely not stealth for Pickle to tumble out of the car, drop half her pencils in the process, pick them up with much carrying on while Read tried to make sure she wasn't hit by oncoming traffic. Then again, who would think that such a scene would come from a car doing surveillance? It probably worked out.

"She's bored," Jim observed.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he sighed. "But we're all being paid to be here."

"Don't understand why. Standard point and click."

"I don't argue with fat wallets."

So of course five minutes later, a guy in just his underwear and carrying a very large gun tapped on their window.

"Your turn," Jim groaned.

"Nope, I got the fucker with the automatic last month."

"He wasn't even holding it right!"

"Still counts," he said smugly.

"Fine!"

Jim slammed the door open, jamming the gun into the guys chest then burst outward to land a punch into his nose. Doubled over, they went to work and Izzy waited for them to quit playing with their food before getting out.

He approached the guy, standing over him with a shake of the head,

"Your wife just wanted to know who you were fucking, dumbass."

"I know!" The guy groaned, curling in around his many aches. Jim was breaking down the gun, pocketing the bullets. "She'll leave me if she finds out!"

"Yeah, sounds like a you problem."

"Uncle Izzy?" Pickle asked from behind him. Shit. "Does that guy need help?"

Jim shot him a wide-eyed look. Izzy, who would never be a strategist, but was maybe a little more creative these days, kept his voice level.

"Nope. He just got a little confused. He's gonna get up and go back home now. Right?" Izzy gave the guy his best dead-eyed stare and reached into his jacket.

"Yeah! Yep. Going!" The guy stumbled to his feet and rabbited off, giving the neighborhood a long eyeful of too much skin. "Sorry to bother you!"

Izzy dropped his hand away. He had a knife on him, but it was in his boot. Waist sheaths were a nightmare if you were going to be sitting for any length of time. Idiot.

"Why was he in his underwear?" Pickle asked.

"Poor planning," Jim said gravely.

They both turned to look at her. Pickle was wearing her favorite shirt with some cartoon dog with a truly upsetting proportion of eyes to face, purple leggings and shoes that despite being almost brand new, looked like they'd been attacked by bears. Her expression was so Delly-like, all judgement and thunder that Izzy felt a little haunted.

"I think you guys beat him up," she decided, crossing her arms over his chest.

"Well-" Izzy started.

"And I missed it!" She stomped one foot. "No fair!"

Read caught up with them, holding a collection of water bottles and, unmistakably, Pickle's favorite potato chips. Goddamnit. Now he didn't even have anything to bribe her with.

"It wasn't a very good beating," Jim offered. "He kind of just fell over. Pretty boring."

"I never get to see anything cool," she fumed onward.

"Good news is, we get to go back to the office."

"Can I cut up old paper?" She asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Yeah, sure," Izzy said readily. Pickle had really taken to shredding documents. Did a decent job too.

"Do I have to finish my homework?"

Silence. Read and Jim were having a conversation of facial expressions that Izzy was ignoring so he wouldn't have to murder them both at a later time.

"How about you get as much done in the car as you can?"

"...deal," she capitulated.

"And you're telling Delly you fed her chips," Izzy hissed at Read.

"That's cool, she likes me better than you anyway," Read said breezily.

Which was probably true considering Read would occasionally babysit for date nights, something Izzy rarely consented to do since they coincided with his own date nights. Lucius liked Pickle in theory, but was charmingly terrified of small children that were left in his care for any length of time. He was better with teenagers.

Fuck, Pickle at fifteen would be a horror show. World enough and time for that. Maybe Izzy would die before it happened, that was a cheering thought.

"Hey, boss," Jim said halfway back to the agency. "Do we have to go out again tomorrow? We didn't actually get the shot."

"....shit. I'll call her, let her know what happened. See how she wants to play it," he blew out a breath. "What a stupid piece of shit."

"Don't say stupid," Pickle scolded from the backseat.

"Yeah, boss," Jim cackled.

"What should I say instead?" He asked, resigned.

"Silly," Pickle informed him.

Jim and Read were both looking at him expectantly.

"No."

"Aw, c'mon," Read pleaded. "Just once."

"It's only appropriate to model good behavior," Jim said flatly, in the way they did when they were borrowing Stede-talk. He fucking hated Stede's bullshit, but it was somehow even worse when filtered through Jim's irony.

"I will stop here, kick you out and make you walk back."

"Pickle would get tired," Read frowned.

"Pickle can stay," he snorted. "She's doing her fucking job. You're being pains in the ass because you can be."

"Yeah!" Pickle grinned. "Wait, what's my job?"

"Being 8," he told her. "Your job responsibilities are finishing the damn homework sheet, cutting up pieces of paper and causing aneurysms. You get compensated in juice boxes and potato chips."

"Cool," she decided and started writing again.

"I think she should renegotiate," Read suggested.

"If you three unionize against me, I'm retiring. You can run the place."

"But the accounting software hates us," Jim wrinkled their nose.

"It's not doing errors at you if you keep feeding the wrong data in."

"You always say that," Jim grumbled.

"Always fucking true."

Back at the office, everyone dispersed to their separate corners. Pickle got the client chair, a massive pair of scissors and a stack of confidential papers to shred.

Read was clearly working on her paper, but since her hours were exceedingly random at this point between classwork and her second job, Izzy left her to it. Jim was transcribing, headphones in and tapping away.

All in all, it felt like an industrious workplace, even if it was partially fictional.

"Hey, what's the word when you're like...careful, but in a bad way?" Read asked. "My brain is mush today."

"Over cautious," Jim suggested.

Read shook her head.

"Paranoid," Izzy provided.

"Oh thank fuck, yes that's it."

"Can I have a juice box?" Pickle asked, coming perilously close to her fingers. She'd never done it yet though, so he left her to it and fished a juice box out from the mini fridge.

He had to duck under the lemon tree to get it and when he turned around to hand it to her, he spotted.

"Holy shit," he leaned in to make sure he wasn't imagiing it, but htere it was. "Jim!"

"What?"

"Your s-" he caught himself and then resignedly plowed on. "Your silly fucking lemon tree finally made a lemon."

"No way!" Jim got to their feet and rushed over. Pickle weaseled in between their legs and Read was practically pressed to his back.

He pointed up to the higher leaves where there was perfectly beautiful yellow fruit.

"I guess it just needed some time," Read whispered like the words might scare the fruit away.

"What do you do with it?" Pickle asked, craning her head up. "Lemonade needs more lemons, right?"

"We still got sugar packets from the last coffee run?" Jim was already turning looking for them. Read fished a few out from the box on top of the mini fridge.

Which was how Delly came to pick up Pickle and found three grown people and her daughter, all sucking on lemon slices coated in sugar.

"You know what?" Delly decided. "I don't even want to know."

"It's really good!" Pickle bounced to her feet, gathering her things. "And I learned how to spell 'mountain'."

"That's great," Delly smiled at her, then darted an acessing look to her brother. Izzy shrugged, and picked up his remaining slice. "Want one?"

"...yes," she took it from him with a sigh. "It smells great in here actually."

The lemon tree produced a great many more lemons from there on out, but it was the first one that stayed with Izzy the most. Sour as anything, sweetened by scrounged sugar packets and the company he had learned to keep.

#leda house and the kraken verse #Callahan Investigations

[satureja13]

It was past noon when Jack and Jeb finally found the way over the bridge to 'Guidry's Paranormal Investigation Bureau'. Since Vlad is well and alive no one thought it would be a problem for Jack to restore the office with Jeb. But they were wrong. Jack is suffering from his break up with Kiyoshi and his quarrel with Vlad and seeing Vlad's coffin again was too much for poor Jack.

So Jeb sent Jack to carry the burnt furniture downstairs so he could remove the coffin first.

Argh there's still some magical interference which causes the ashes rain down on the coffin - and soon Jeb was covered all over with them... It's over a year ago and the magic is still so strong here...

Jeb cast a spell to stop the raining ashes.

They were finally able to start their work... Jack is the second shortest of them but the physically strongest. We still don't know why...

Finally they are getting somewhere! The sign in the background made Jebs miss his Giigs... They haven't seen each other since the Court Hearing.

Finally done! It's already late.

Jack being proud of himself! And he can be - he did so well.

Guidry thanks them and offers his help to find out how to cut the Bond in return. Jeb tries to refuse because it's their fault after all that Guidry's office got destroyed, but Guidry insisted. He still feels bad that he got caught at Sulani and couldn't be of better help for Ji Ho and his brother.

And then Jeb and Jack left Guidry to grab something to eat and try to find their way back home/ to the Bunker.

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest

The 'Disbandment of the Group' Chapter from the beginning -> here

#disbandment of the group #simlit #ts4 story #sims 4 #simblr #sims 4 story #ts4 #jack callahan #jeb harris #guidry #guidry's paranormal investigations bureau #san myshuno #underwater love #sims 4 vanilla #bofrost skyway #team home improvement

[erinsaiart]

Bizarre Villain Bimbofies City Officials

A rogue Villain struck City Hall today, she apparently used a bizarre device to turn the Mayor, The Police Chief, a couple of Police Officers, and several City Council members into extremely busty, sexualized, hyper feminine verison of themselves. The initial attack happened at the opening of the City Council meeting, a beam from an unidentified woman in the public view area. The Mayor Carl Johnson, Council woman Abigail Luthor, councilmen Robert Hash and Jim Delmor were hit. Then the Police Chief, Jonathan Callahan was attacked trying to stop and arrest the individual. Then a couple officers responding to the attack were the blasted bu the suspect. In a statement from City Hall, a task force is being formed with City, County, and State officials and police to investigate, stop, and arrest the unknown individual. She is known to be dangerous and possibly Mad. She have pink hair, very large breasts and wears a lab coat. She referred to herself as Dr. Bimbo. If the suspect is seen call the police or the Task Force.

Dr. Bimbo posing for the camera before leaving the crime scene.

On the welfare of the City Officials, they are said to be in high spirits, looking forward to returning to work as soon as possible.

Mayor Carl "Claire" Johnson, as seen leaving the hospital.

Council woman Abigail Luthor, in her office soon after the attack.

Councilman Robert "Bobbi" Hash after the attack.

Councilmen Jim "Jimini" Delmor, after leaving the hospital.

Police Chief Jonathan "Josie" Callahan, after failing to arrest Dr. Bimbo.

Officers Ronald "Ronnie" Jones (top left), Cindy Maxwell (top right), and Captain Rebecca "Becky" Cunningham. After responding to the initial attack.

At the time of this report, there is no cure or treatment to reverse the bimbofication. Everyone is warned to stay away from Dr. Bimbo if she is seen.

The City Officials affected are undergoing testing to see how they were affected beyond the physical transformation, and are also undergoing therapy to deal with the changes that they have gone through. More to be reported as soon as the information is available.

Written by

Reporter Erin Scott

#ai artwork #ai art #ai generated #ai image #bimbo doll #huge tiddies #huge cleavage #bimbo fashion #fake breasts #huge titts #erin's #short story #fiction #stories

[callahan-okeefe]

It was a good haul of trinkets and artifacts, all shiny and bright, some even glowing with magical auras! Riake giddily sprawled the newly stolen items across her inn room floor, nearly drooling as the shiny metals dazzled in the candle light.

The two had been commissioned to steal some papers from some pompous prick who was totally selling some illegal shit, but since their commissioner didn't have any proof of it they couldn't have the prick investigated.

Which is where Riake and Callahan came in! The deal was to steal and dealer those incriminating papers to their boss, and whatever else they found they could keep. 'Make it look like some huge robbery,' was the commissioners words-- basically at least.

"Callahan! Look look!" Riake nearly squeals, holding out brass flower of somesort. "Its so pretty! I'm totally keeping this."

"Come on! You better hurry and pick what you want or I'm keeping this all to myself!"

The tiefling sauntered over slowly, stretching and casting a critical eye over Riake's newfound treasures.

"I dunno, love. You pick something for me." He said with a yawn, stretching out a knot in his shoulder and sitting next to the faun, a soft smile on his face as he admired the metalwork on the flower she likes.

"That is a beauty, isn't it. Suits you perfectly."

#rp with trippy

[alwaysmoncheri]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒

pairings ❧ steve harrington x reader

summary ❧ nancy, jonthan, and (y/n) investigate the strange events that keep occurring in their small town

warnings ❧ female!reader, shit writing, implications of sex

word count ❧ 1k

additional notes ❧ none ´･ᴗ･`

The day seems to drag on incessantly as I drown in my own pool of sorrow.

As I'm sitting at lunch, Tommy and Carol crack their typical 'humorous' remarks, triggering an unsettling feeling within me.

"I still think that creep killed him." Tommy says referring to Jonathan while spooning food into his mouth.

"He's such a freak." Carol comments, laughing.

Steve shoots his friends a look before he glances at me with a concerned expression. To my surprise, he rests his hand on my thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze, leaving it there, before returning to his food.

Steve doesn't bring up what happened last night.

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

"The brown current ran swiftly out of the heart of darkness, bearing us down towards the sea with twice the speed of our upward progress. And Kurtz's life was running swiftly, too—"

I slump in my seat, absorbing this incredibly boring lecture as the day reaches its conclusion. Suddenly the office lady walk in and halts the teacher's speech.

Thank god.

"(Y/n) Henderson and Nancy Wheeler? If you would come with me, please," She says motioning for us to walk with her.

With exhaustion dragging me down, I rise from my chair and shuffle after the lady through the classroom door to the empty cafeteria - a tense scene awaiting. There, Mrs. Wheeler sits, across from two officers, who look at Nancy and I with stern expressions, which causes my heart to quicken with anticipation.

Nancy sits down next to her mom and I sit myself down next to Nancy.

"We're here to discuss the whereabouts of your friend, Barbra Holland." One of the deputies says, with a notepad in hand.

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

"So, this argument you and Barbra had... What exactly was it about?" The officer, Powell asks.

"It wasn't really an argument..." Nancy says hesitantly, "Barb just wanted to leave. I didn't, so, I... I told her to just go home."

"Then what?" Powell asks.

"Then I went upstairs to put on some dry clothes." Nancy continues.

"And the next day," Powell says, "You guys went back and saw, a bear, you're thinking?"

"We don't know what it was... but we think..." I pipe in, "We think maybe it took, Barb."

"You need to check behind Steve's house—" Nancy starts.

"We did. There's nothing there." The other officer, Callahan, says shaking his head, "There's no sign of a bear."

"And there's no car." Powell finishes.

"What?" I say, as Nancy and I glance at each other.

"Look, we figure that Barbra came back last night and then she took off, went somewhere else." Callahan says.

"Has she ever talked to either of you about running off?" Powell asks, "Leaving town, maybe?"

"No," Nancy says shaking her head, "No, Barb wouldn't do that, ever."

"She wasn't maybe upset about the fact that you were spending time with this boy?" Powell asks, "Uh, Steve Harrington?"

"What? No." Nancy says uncomfortably.

"Maybe she was jealous because she saw you go up to Steve's room?" Callahan presses and Mrs. Wheeler looks at Nancy pointedly.

"It wasn't like that." Nancy argues.

"Like what?" Callahan asks.

"Steve and me... We're..." Nancy's starts, "We're just friends. We just talked."

Callahan looks down at his notes and I avert my gaze to the window, hiding my jealousy.

"Now was this before or after you changed out of your clothes?"

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

After riding my bike home, I grab a snack from the fridge as the phone begins to ring. I walk over to the phone holding it between my shoulder and ear. Opening the wrapper for my snack, I take a bite while answering the call.

"Henderson residence." I say into the phone.

"(Y/n)?" I hear Jonathan's voice through the speaker.

"This is she," I reply.

"Uh, could you help me with something?" He says hesitantly.

"Of course, what is it?" I ask, leaning against the wall.

"I need to organize Will's funeral and I just can't do it alone." He responds solemnly.

"Oh..."

"You don't have to, I just—"

"No, no, it's okay Jonathan," I say, reassuring the boy, "Pick me up in ten minutes?"

"Okay."

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

Jonathan arrives at my house approximately ten minutes later. As he drives us to the funeral home, my thoughts wander to the difference between riding with him and sitting in Steve's car. Jonathan's car is cold and bleak while Steve's car is warm and causes my emotions to buzz with excitement.

Jonathan pulls up outside the funeral home and we both head inside. An old man greets us with a sad smile and guides us over to view the available caskets.

"It's made of soft wood with a crepe interior," The old man says gently, "Uh, now, I don't know what your budget is but over there, we have copper and bronze." He says leading us over to more caskets.

Nancy walks in through the entrance, her steps slow and hesitant. Jonathan and I notice her arrival, prompting her to offer us a wave that mirrors her anxious demeanor.

"Can you just give us a second?" Jonathan stammers before we walk over to Nancy.

"Of course." The man says kindly.

"Hey." Jonathan greets.

"Hey, Nance." I say.

"Hey..." She says, "Your mom, um... she said you'd be here."

"I just... can we talk for a second?"  Nancy continues nervously.

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

"It looks like it could be some kind of perspective distortion, but I wasn't using the wide angle." Jonathan says looking at the taped picture Nancy hands him after we sit down on a bench.

"I don't know. It's weird" He continues handing the picture back to Nancy.

"And you're sure you didn't see anyone else out there?" Nancy asks.

"No." Jonathan replies, "She was there one second and then, um... gone. I figured she bolted."

"The cops think that she ran away." Nancy says sadly, "But they don't know Barb."

"And we went back to Steve's... and we thought we saw something..." I say.

Some weird man or...I don't know what it was." Nancy finishes with a sigh before looking at Jonathan.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come here today." She stands, "I'm so sorry."

"What did he look like?" Jonathan says abruptly.

"What?" Nancy asks turning back around.

"This man you guys saw in the woods." Jonathan says, "What'd he look like?" He repeats.

"I don't know," Nancy stammers, "It was almost like he... he didn't have—"

"Didn't have a face?"

previous chapter . next chapter . my masterlist . my taglist

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

#my works #masterlist #steve harrington #stranger things #wattpad #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagines #steve x reader #stranger things steve #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things s1

[hinaypod]

Happy Hot Man Wednesday everyone!

Isaac John Robinson Weekes, aka "Jack Robin" (1920s) [pictured left]

The sharply charming, impeccably dressed, handsome younger brother to the Elder occultist, Mary-Anne Weekes. Son of a Black millionaire and hotel tycoon in Toronto, he was described as "lively as a flitting bird". His fate, and his relationships, would change the course of Elder history forever.

"The Journalist" aka "J" aka "James Callahan" (1960s-1980s) [pictured right]

The brilliant, charismatic, and secretive Journalist who wrote The Book of Elders, and the son of two working class Toronto men who lived together in secret. His Da was one of the last living survivors of the burned town, Hyde, where hundreds of residents disappeared in a single night, and this inspired him to investigate the incident, and the immortal Elders that sparked its fall.

Both characters feature heavily in the third act of Hi Nay, each existing in different eras of Toronto history.

Wonderful art by the artist @wait_nsee on Twitter, where proceeds were divided between Care for Gaza and E-Sims for Gaza. Originally planned for Black History Month, but hey. Never too late to celebrate ;)

#hinaypod #hi nay podcast #horror podcast #hi nay #queer podcast #horror audio drama #the journalist #James Callahan #Isaac Weekes #Isaac John Robinson Weekes #Jack Robin