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lvnleah · 10 months ago

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this is a really long request ess t so feel free to ignore lol

Reader got pregnant young and drunk so has a young daughter and works in a pub. Alessia has been going to pub since joining arsenal bc it’s cozy and near her house and they met. They become close friends (they're in LOVE with each other but are kind of oblivious to eachother), everytime she has a chance Alessia spends time with R and R daughter, always always together, they're basically a married couple with a kid, to the point Alessias lockscreen is a picture of the 3 of them but she never told anyone about the pub and or R and her daughter (who basically grew up with less around, loves her like her other mum) because she wants to protect them. One day the arsenal girls ask her where she always goes, andl she takes them to the pub. At the pub less is nervous and when the girls ask her what is wrong she see a creepy man bothering R, when he touches her she goes mad, shocking everyone including herself when she punches him. Girls are shocked bc they saw sweet Alessia punching someone and they now know about her and R. Team learn more about R and her daughter and after meeting for good reader and daughter and see how they behave, they help Alessia finally confess her feelings. 💗💗

Finding home | Alessia Russo

I truly love this so thank you for the idea anon!

word count: 2.4k | masterlist

You hadn’t expected much when you clocked into your shift at the pub that evening. It was another long night ahead, and the buzz of conversation mingled with the clinking of glasses had already settled into a steady rhythm. At 25, you had your life together—or as together as it could be.

You had Daisy, your bright, energetic 4-year-old daughter, who was your world. You’d gotten pregnant at 21, and while those early days had been overwhelming, you found a way to cope. Between work and raising Daisy, you had a routine, a flow to your days.

Then one night she walked in—Alessia. She caught your attention the second she stepped through the door. You didn’t know who she was at the time. Just another customer. But something about her stood out. Maybe it was the way she smiled, that soft, genuine curve of her lips, or how her eyes crinkled slightly at the edges, filled with warmth even though you hadn’t exchanged more than a hello.

“Hi,” she said, leaning on the counter, her voice soft but steady. “I’m new to the area.”

You found yourself smiling back, something about her putting you at ease. “Welcome. What can I get you?”

You didn’t know it then, but that was the start of everything.

Over the next few weeks, Alessia became a regular at the pub. It didn’t take long for the two of you to become close. She’d just moved to the area, having signed with Arsenal, and though she was adjusting to her new life, she always found her way back to the pub. Back to you.

There was something natural about the way you two clicked. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and before long, you were hanging out outside of work. Coffee here, a walk there. Soon, she’d met Daisy, and the bond between the three of you grew quickly. Alessia had a way with Daisy, a knack for making her laugh in that full-belly kind of way that made your heart swell.

You weren’t blind to how you felt about Alessia. The way your heart quickened when she smiled at you, how your day brightened when you saw her name pop up on your phone. You knew, deep down, that you were in love with her. And you could tell Alessia felt the same. But neither of you ever said it. The fear of ruining what you had, of stepping over that invisible line, kept you both silent.

A year passed, and nothing had really changed—yet everything had. You were 26 now, Alessia 25, and Daisy, who had just turned 5, had started to call Alessia her “other mum” to other people. She adored Alessia, clinging to her whenever she was around, and you couldn’t blame her. Alessia made you both feel seen and cared for.

Movie nights with Alessia and Daisy had quickly become a tradition, a cosy ritual that the three of you looked forward to at the end of a long week. Tonight was no different.

Daisy, ever the ball of energy, was bouncing around the living room in her pyjamas, clutching her favourite stuffed animal while you set up the film. You smiled to yourself, watching her dance around in excitement. The movie didn’t really matter—Daisy rarely stayed still long enough to watch the entire thing—but it was the atmosphere that counted.

Alessia sat on the couch, her long legs stretched out as she tried to corral Daisy. “C’mere, munchkin!” she called, laughing when Daisy climbed up onto her lap with a dramatic sigh.

You grabbed the bowl of popcorn and settled in on the other side of the couch, the warm weight of the evening wrapping around the three of you like a blanket. Alessia leaned in slightly, close enough that your arms brushed, and Daisy nestled herself between you both, already giggling at something on the screen.

As the movie started, Daisy squirmed a little, trying to get comfortable between you and Alessia. “What’s this one called again?” she asked, her wide eyes flicking between you both.

“It’s Moana, remember?” Alessia answered, gently brushing a strand of Daisy’s hair out of her face. “We’ve watched it, like, ten times already.”

Daisy giggled, snuggling closer to Alessia. “Oh yeah! I like when she sings. You know, like this—” She cleared her throat dramatically before belting out, “I am Moana!” with as much enthusiasm as her little lungs could muster.

Alessia laughed, looking over at you with that familiar playful smile. “She’s a natural, don’t you think?”

You grinned, nodding. “Definitely. We might have a future superstar on our hands.”

Daisy giggled. “I’m gonna be just like Moana when I grow up. Right, Lessi?”

Alessia leaned down, her eyes twinkling as she whispered conspiratorially, “I think you’re already cooler than Moana.”

Daisy’s face lit up. “Really?”

“Really,” Alessia said with a wink. “Moana’s brave, but I bet she couldn’t dribble a football like you.”

Daisy giggled, delighted by the compliment. “You’re right! I’m better!” Then, after a moment, she asked, “Can we play football tomorrow? You can show me more tricks?”

“Of course,” Alessia replied, her voice soft. “I’ll teach you anything you want. You’re gonna be a pro in no time.”

Daisy seemed to consider this for a moment, then added, “And after football, can we have ice cream?”

Alessia glanced at you, raising an eyebrow as if asking for permission. You shrugged, smiling. “If you both behave.”

“Yessss!” Daisy pumped her fist, clearly excited about tomorrow’s plans.

As the movie continued, Daisy asked a hundred questions, as usual. “Why is the ocean magic? Can we go to the ocean tomorrow too?” she asked, leaning back against Alessia.

Alessia smiled, amused by Daisy’s endless curiosity. “We’ll have to see how far we can get after football and ice cream. It might be a bit too cold for the ocean though, we might have to stick to swimming.”

“Yay!” Daisy cheered, then turned to you. “Mummy, can we bring Lessi to swimming lessons with us?”

You exchanged a glance with Alessia, feeling your heart warm at how easily Daisy wove her into your lives. “Of course, we can, Dais.”

With that, Daisy seemed satisfied, and her questions quieted down as she nestled into Alessia’s side. Alessia wrapped an arm around her, keeping her close, and shot you a soft, affectionate smile.

“Guess I’m stuck with you two, huh?” she whispered teasingly.

You chuckled, nudging her gently. “You know you love it.”

“I really do,” she murmured, her voice so quiet you almost missed it, but the warmth in her eyes said enough.

You noticed how effortlessly Alessia fit into your life. She wasn’t just a guest here; she belonged. The way she held Daisy’s hand when a particularly suspenseful scene came on, or how she absentmindedly passed you the popcorn—every movement, every glance, felt like home.

Daisy, always the chatterbox, kept turning to ask questions about the movie, and Alessia, ever patient, answered each one as though it was the most important thing in the world. It was moments like this that made your heart swell.

Halfway through the movie, Daisy had curled up against Alessia’s chest, her eyes drooping with sleep. Alessia shifted slightly, careful not to wake her, and you caught the soft look in her eyes as she glanced down at Daisy. There was so much love in that look, so much tenderness that it made your breath catch.

You had become something of an old married couple, without ever defining what “you” were. There were stolen glances, playful touches, and inside jokes that only the two of you understood. You were always together, practically inseparable, and people around you began to notice.

Some of Alessia’s friends had caught on—Lotte had met you early on and was one of the few who knew the whole story. But others had only heard bits and pieces about a girl Alessia had met. She never mentioned your name or Daisy.

It was a Thursday night when Alessia brought some of her teammates to the pub. You didn’t know at first, of course. You were busy behind the bar, moving from one customer to the next, keeping up with orders. But when you glanced up, there they were, a group of them gathered at a table near the back. Alessia sat with them, looking slightly nervous, which wasn’t like her.

You could see her teammates chatting away, curious glances occasionally directed toward you. You wondered what she’d told them, if anything. Lotte caught your eye and waved, but the others didn’t seem to recognize you.

As the night went on, Alessia seemed more on edge. You noticed it in the way her eyes kept darting toward the bar, like she was checking on you. Then it happened. A man, one of the regulars you weren’t too fond of, had sidled up next to you at the bar, clearly a little too drunk. He’d been making comments all night, none of which sat well with you, but you’d brushed them off, used to dealing with that kind of thing. But when he reached out and touched your arm, something in the air shifted.

Before you could even react, Alessia was out of her seat. The sound of her voice, usually so soft, was sharp and commanding as she stormed over, eyes blazing.

“Get your hands off her,” she practically growled, her voice louder than you’d ever heard it.

The pub went silent. Everyone turned to watch as Alessia squared up to the man, her entire demeanour transformed. The sweet, gentle Alessia you knew was gone, replaced by someone fiercely protective, someone who wasn’t going to let anyone cross a line with you.

The man, clearly startled by her sudden outburst, backed off quickly, muttering an apology before slinking away. Alessia stood there for a moment, chest heaving, as if even she couldn’t believe what had just happened. Her teammates were wide-eyed, jaws practically on the floor. They had never seen her like that before.

When Alessia finally turned back to you, her expression softened instantly, concerned replacing the anger that had flared up moments before. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice quieter now, almost tentative.

You nodded, still a little shocked yourself. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Alessia took a breath, running a hand through her hair as her teammates approached, clearly wanting answers. Lotte had a knowing smile on her face, but the others looked confused and curious.

“Everything okay?” Beth asked, glancing between the two of you.

Alessia hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Yeah, it’s fine. Just… protecting what’s important.”

It was then that she turned to introduce you properly to the team. “This is her,” Alessia said, her voice softer again, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “This is who I’ve been telling you about.”

You smiled awkwardly as the girls greeted you, and slowly the tension eased. They asked questions, mostly about how long you’d known each other, and how you met. But eventually, the conversation shifted to Daisy, and the smiles around the table grew warmer when they learned about your little girl.

By the end of the night, you weren’t just a mystery anymore. You were a part of Alessia’s world, just like she was a part of yours.

A few weeks had passed since the incident at the pub. Alessia had returned to her usual self, although there was a noticeable change in the way her teammates interacted with you now—warmer, more knowing. It felt like they saw you not just as a friend of Alessia’s, but as someone who was clearly important to her.

You hadn’t brought up what had happened, not wanting to make a big deal out of it, but it lingered in the back of your mind. Alessia’s protectiveness, her intensity that night—it had stirred something deep within you. You knew there was more to your relationship than just friendship, but neither of you had ever found the right moment to say it out loud.

That was, until one evening.

Alessia had just come back from training, and you were at home, tidying up after dinner with Daisy. The door swung open, and she stepped in, looking slightly flustered. Her hair was still damp from a quick post-training shower.

“Hey, you okay?” you asked, turning toward her, sensing that something was on her mind.

She hesitated for a second before crossing the room in a few strides, stopping right in front of you. Her hands reached out, resting gently on your hands, and she took a deep breath.

“I need to ask you something,” she said, her voice steady but laced with a hint of nerves.

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden seriousness. “Okay…”

Alessia bit her lip, “The girls—they’ve been telling me to just… say something. To stop being scared. And they’re right. I can’t keep pretending like this isn’t real.”

Your heart started to race. You had a feeling where this was going, but you didn’t dare assume.

“I love you,” she finally said, the words spilling out all at once. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time now, and I know you probably already know that, but I just… I needed to say it. I don’t want to be just friends anymore. I want to be with you, for real.”

Your breath caught in your throat as the weight of her words settled over you. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, too overwhelmed by the flood of emotions.

“Alessia…” you whispered, tears pricking at your eyes as you took in the sincerity in her expression.

She squeezed your hands gently as if to steady herself. “So, will you be my girlfriend? Officially?”

A smile broke across your face, and you nodded, barely able to get the words out. “Yes. Yes, of course, I will.”

Before you could say anything else, Alessia pulled you into a kiss. Her hand rested on the small of your back as the kiss deepened. It was something you’d been craving for a long time.

When you finally pulled back, Alessia was smiling “I can’t believe it took me this long,” she murmured.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Honestly, I was waiting for you to figure it out. I was too scared.”

Alessia laughed softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Well, I’m glad I finally did.”

Just then, a sleepy voice from the doorway interrupted the moment.

“Mummy? Lessi? What’s happening?” Daisy rubbed her eyes, clearly having woken up from a nap.

Alessia crouched down to Daisy’s level, her smile widening. “Guess what, Daisy? Your mum and I… we’re officially together now.”

Daisy blinked, processing the information. Then, with a huge grin, she ran over and hugged Alessia around the neck. “Yay! Does that mean we can be a family now?”

You exchanged a tender look with Alessia before nodding. “Yeah, Dais. We already are a family.”

#lvnleah #awfc #alessia russo fluff #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo

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baeddel · 4 months ago

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I think your analysis of the issue is overall astute, but I also think it's an important nuance that the maturity of the "MILF" has always been disturbingly relative, and I'm not sure that menopause has actually been that likely of a historic quality of one. Sarah Palin had her last child in 2008, and Lisa Ann was eight years younger than her when she performed in "Who's Nailin Paylin?". Youth as a source of feminine beauty is still valued in the MILF, despite the inherent countersignaling of the concept; while it always would have been disingenuous to present a twenty-something as a MILF simply because she could literally already be a mother, I'm pretty sure the type is most commonly imagined in her thirties or forties, a plausible mother figure for a specifically teen or college-aged assumed audience. A whole disquieting coterie out there of not-actually-that-old guys using the concept of MILFs to come to terms with being attracted to women around their own age.

thank you for your useful thoughts... your point about Lisa Ann performing the older woman is a good one, but i want to temper it with something i observed several years ago and made a post about (click), which was the actor Aaron Brandt, who acted in porn movies for a company called Bacchus Releasing (!), had but ten years between his starring in "18 and Horny" and "Guys of a Certain Age 3". but even by the time he starred in "18 and Horny" he had already been in the adult industry for 11 years. so in pornography, age is malleable. as is name, sex, nationality, even ethnicity... pornography, as in stripping and camming, and even full service, are all forms of performance, and there is more to protrayal than possessing the right sort of body.

now i will insert a warning that a very graphic reply continues beyond this point, incl. discussion of rape and pedophilia

regardless, what you say about these terms being used by men to come to terms with their own attraction is an interesting one and i will think about it... i wonder about the age of the ideal viewer of some of these. "nubile teens" and "barely legal" (Chaturbate politely terms it the '18 & 19 Year Old' category) is a genre one can only picture a filthy old man enjoying; but girls like to put themselves in this category, i believe for more than just marketing reasons. a memory of mine: a girl who has already told me she is really 26, but lists her age as 18, asks me what age i am; when i say 31, she seems to get visibly excited by the age gap that doesn't exist. once begun, it is difficult to extract onesself from the coordinates of the performance. "Suppose you couldn't get back, out of the chaos?" what i mean is this: i don't need to be such a filthy old man to be immersed in the fantasy of the barely legal teen, i need only play my part. i mean, when it comes to my own fantasies, i wouldn't even begin to tell you the things that i'm not...

this is how i explain why in eromanga the characters are all teenagers, yet they are not some kind of dark pedophilic sex manga, but a normal manga. it's because the ideal reader is themselves a teen, even in such cases where the manga could not even be lawfully sold to a teenager (although i know in Japan for a long time eromanga could be sold to children; perhaps it still can be, i'm not sure). we are required to immerse ourselves in the highschool performance, in which we play a fellow highschooler. sometimes the anxieties surrounding this are complex to navigate; in Rance (which is focused on noncon), in the first game, Rance rapes girls as young as 16, but if you have him rape a 14 year old girl you get a judgemental game over. when we played it we said "so that's where you draw the line??", but perhaps this is a line that its ideal player would intuitively understand.

yet even in a game so flagrant as Rance we are a world away from, say, Burroughs' letters to Ginsberg and Kerouac, where he describes the things he paid child sex workers to do in Mexico; things that, in his fiction, he would exclusively write as atrocities committed by horrid space monsters. that is the gulf between rape and noncon; it is the crater left by the 'death of the author', the strange effect which comes over us when we put pen to paper, and set about to write something other than a confession.

anyway. to return to the jpeg porn webrings. what is this suburbia that they created? the nubile teen, the girl next door, the college coed, the milf, the gilf... i was the tender age of twelve when i went and viewed them, and i had never once been to such a suburb, yet i knew how to comprehend what i was seeing. i had seen the trailer for American Pie. i had heard Stacy's Mom. i knew what i was getting into. so each cliche need not appeal to any particular real viewer; he need only know how to perform his part. there are old Newgrounds flash games organized along this basis; you go door to door, engaging in different sex acts with different kinds of women; sleeping with a young, flat chested girl in pigtails, then going next door to have sex with a mature, large breated woman with a blonde perm; upstairs you are tortured by a dominatrix, then go downstairs to inflict sadistic punishment on a submissive. even a game of such artfulness as Degrees of Lewdity has something of the colour of that; the charcuterie town where every type of partner may be tried out (or, in the case of DoL, feared and doggedly fled).

in any case, yes, i'll concede that drawing the line at menopause was fanciful.

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rottenpumpkin13 · 7 months ago

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Happy First Day of 2025! Hope today, as well as the rest, are good ones!' :D

Are there any little traditions AGSZC have that they do on the first day of the year? Habits and/or more by celebratory/ritual type things? Perhaps something they do to bring luck or of a similar notion?

Sephiroth: Every New Year's Day, Sephiroth starts with a single, solitary shot of whiskey to commemorate surviving another year. It's simple, understated, and surprisingly sentimental. "To another year," he says to himself, raising the glass before downing it. But then he starts thinking about life, war and how he's been deployed since he was a child. By shot #26, Genesis has confiscated the bottle.

Genesis: "Maybe next year your resolution should be to lighten up."

Sephiroth: "Maybe next year I'll resolve to move to a mountain alone after assassinating professor Hojo."

Angeal: Every year on the first of January, Angeal plants a seed in a small terracotta pot, his ritual for new beginnings. He whispers words of affirmation to it like "You're going to grow strong and flourish! I believe in you." He doesn't tolerate any negativity within a five-foot radius of the pot. One time Sephiroth wandered too close to it as he was complaining about his recent encounter with Hojo, and Angeal threw his boot at him. Then, Sephiroth stood in the doorway, watching Angeal sage his office.

Genesis: Every year without fail, creates a vision board for the year ahead, slapping it together with glitter glue and expensive paper. It's a tasteful mess of magazine cutouts, handwritten goals, and affirmations. Angeal and Sephiroth always critique it, which he ignores entirely. Angeal once pointed out how "You can't realistically expect to 'become a demigod by summer.'" The board also includes things like "Defeat Sephiroth in sparring" (he's lost every year), picture of himself as lead actor in a Loveless movie (that's never happening), and "Future Inventor of Apple-Powered Energy"

Sephiroth: "That's not how physics works."

Genesis: "The goddess transcends physics."

Angeal: "Is that... are you wearing a crown made of dumbapples?"

Genesis: "It's called manifestation."

Zack: Spends the entire day running around SOLDIER yelling "New year, new me!" to anyone who'll listen. "This year, I'm gonna wake up at 5 am every day! No more skipping leg day! I'll stop bothering Angeal during his alone time!" By the end of the day, he's already failed all of them. Every year, nothing changes except the volume of his declarations.

Cloud: Has a small, bizarre Nibelheim tradition that nobody fully understands. He makes a wreath out of pine branches and old chocobo feathers, then hangs it on the nearest doorknob. This makes sharing a dorm with him a nightmare.

Zack: "Cool! What's the wreath for?"

Cloud: "To ward them off."

Zack: "Who?"

Cloud: "...."

Zack, panicking: "WHO?"

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 crisis core #angeal hewley #zack fair #cloud strife #crisis core

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gunsandspaceships · 8 months ago

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MCU Timeline: Iron Man 2. Part 1

This timeline is based on dates from the movie and not on Fury's Big Week (see the reason here).

Here's the classification of date consistency in the MCU Phase 1 (within the movies):

IM1, Thor, CA:TFA and The Avengers - good. Almost no issues.

The Incredible Hulk - some issues and a few barely visible wrong dates.

IM2 - absolute mess.

Let's start by finding out the month and year of the main events of the movie.

Month: May. What evidence we have: 1) one of the events is Tony's birthday, May 29; 2) The Monaco Grand Prix always takes place in May. The Historique races (which we see in the movie) take place before the main Grand Prix - in early May; 3) one of the screens in Tony's lab says it's May; 4) the weather and people's clothing also correspond to May.

Year: 2010. This is where things get really confusing. Because in the movie there are at least 3 versions of what year the events take place: 1) version of written sources (documents, computer screens) that consistently point to 2010; 2) Pepper Potts' version (IM1 took place "last year", which was February-May 2008, so IM2, she says, is May 2009); 3) Justin Hammer's version, who is absolutely sure that Tony became Iron Man only 6 months ago, so according to him it is November-December 2008, which contradicts everything else. Since most sources, as well as logic, point to 2010, this is the most likely version.

Now let's move on to the timeline.

The first f*ck up in the movie (chronologically): Anton Vanko's date of birth is mentioned once, and it is February 15, 1943. This is literally impossible. According to the same screen, in the early 1950s, Anton was already 20-30 years old and was a scientist at the Electrotechnical Institute in the USSR. More realistic year would be ~1925.

Early 1950s - Anton Vanko works on nuclear energy in the USSR.

October 1963 - Vanko defects from the USSR and seeks asylum in the United States.

Here we have the second f*ck up in props - the newspaper says 1966, but JARVIS said it's 1963, which is also confirmed by the date on Tony's screen. JARVIS's version is more realistic, so we'll go with that. And come on, Marvel. Citizenship right away? Why not the presidency?

June 26, 1967 - Anton is found guilty of espionage and deported.

August 2 or February 15, 1969 - Ivan Vanko is born.

Ivan's prison tattoo on his fingers is his birth year. There are several references to Ivan's birth date in the movie, and they are all different. So we'll use his tattoo, as it's a more reliable source. About the month and day - we have two options. The JARVIS search results give us 15.02, but as you may have noticed, this is the same day as Anton's birthday in the same search results. So I doubt that they were both born on the same day of the same month. The prop guys just put the same numbers in and forgot about it. Good f*cking job. Another possibility is the date on Vanko's fake passport - August 2. Since the document is fake, I have no idea if any of the dates on it are real. And it's unlikely that anyone would need his DOB anyway. Do we have any Ivan fans here?

~1970 - Anton Vanko is sent to Siberia for 20 years.

May 29, 1970 - Anthony Edward Stark is born 🎉

September 15, 1973 - Howard films the Intro to Stark Expo 1974 and the message for Tony.

1974 - the last Stark Expo until 2010.

~1990 - Anton is released and returns to Moscow.

December 2, 1993 - Ivan is sentenced to 15 years in prison for selling weapons-grade plutonium to Pakistan.

Late 1990s (before 2000) - Virginia Potts becomes Pepper, and Tony's PA.

May 25, 2008 - "I am Iron Man" press conference.

August 2008 - an article about Tony's arc reactor in Scientific American.

Note: There is a real issue of this magazine from August 2008 with the same articles except for the article on the arc reactor.

December 2008:

After serving 15 years, Ivan is released from prison.

Anton Vanko dies.

If anyone doubts that it's May in the screenshot, you're right. This is how winter looks like, not May. Yes, even in Russia, Marvel.

On TV they say Tony is giving the "I am Iron Man" press conference "Now", but this is impossible: 1) As we have established, it was on May 25, not in winter. 2) In Moscow it would be night (remember time zones). But we were clearly shown that it was daytime. 3) This is a live broadcast for CNN, not for Russian news. 4) It can't even be "Live" and "Breaking News" at the same time because he hasn't even said the words yet! Come on, Marvel. Logic was lost during the production of this movie.

So, based on the notes above, I conclude the following: 1) The news is not new. It is a recording. 2) The first scene takes place in December 2008.

A few days later - Ivan begins work on his arc reactor.

Here's the third f*ck up:

On the Forbes cover, which we already saw in IM1, the date "January 1990" appeared, which was not there before. But this is not the main issue. The main one is that Howard was still alive in 1990 and ran his company himself. So Tony could not "take reign at 21" at that time. He wasn't even 21 yet, and he couldn't be. Marvel shouldn't have changed the cover in the first place. January also contradicts other sources that show Stane was interim CEO for several months, not just one.

December 2008 - Tony is named "Time's Person of the Year".

Note: This is an edited cover of the actual "Time's Person of the Year 2008".

December 2008 - December 2009 - Vanko works on his reactor.

May 2008 - May 2010:

All the following events:

Some details of the events from the newspapers on Vanko's wall:

Tony saves a mother of three from a fire.

January 2009 - Tony saves the crew of a Russian submarine ("miracle submarine").

Pepper gives an interview about Tony, the suit and her figure (very important).

August 5, 2009 - Hammer tests his suit in Reno, Nevada.

September 13, 2009 - Saudi Arabia tests a prototype of its suit.

Early April (snow) 2010 - Vanko receives a fake passport and a ticket to the Monaco Grand Prix.

Shortly before May 2010 - Natasha is "hired" by Stark Industries.

December 2009 - May 2010 - Vanko works on his exoskeleton and whips.

Here we come to the infamous "6 months later" problem. And the main question: 6 months from what? a) "I am Iron Man" in IM1? b) Anton's death in December 2008 or c) The day Ivan finished working on his reactor?

As we have already established, it cannot be 6 months from IM1 (May 2008), as it contradicts literally everything. The date of Hammer's test also shows that it can't be 6 months from IM1 because there was already more than 6 months between the press conference and the test. So Justin should do some fact checking before his speech next time.

6 months since Anton's death (December 2008) would fit better into the timeline. It would also match the month of Tony's birthday and Pepper's version of what year IM2 takes place:

But it's still the wrong year. All other sources give us 2010, not 2009.

And finally, the best version is 6 months from the day Ivan finished his reactor. We already know that IM2 is mostly set in May 2010, so we just count back 6 months and get December 2009. It took Ivan a whole year to build what Tony was able to build in a few days in a cave and with a serious medical condition.

Part 2

MCU Timeline: The Infinity Saga

#marvel #mcu #tony stark #iron man #iron man 2 #mcu timeline #pepper potts #ivan vanko #justin hammer

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alocalpizzadruid · 2 days ago

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I am spending my afternoon on this because yes

69 whimsical questions

1-Would you prefer being 2.10 or 1.40 in height?

2-Dark or white chocolate?

3-3 thing you wanna buy when you get 18

4-Favourite dinousaur(only dinosaurs no pterodactyls, plesiosaurus or modern dinousaurs only exstint ones)

5-Least favourite arthropod?

6-Tell me a fun fact about a very niche fandom you're in

7-If you could have an unusual pet, what would you have?

8-Do you run cold or hot?

9-What's your favourite tea flavour?(only for smart people)

10-Do you like chickens?

11-Trains or planes?

12-Soup?

13-If there was a category of food you'd need to make disappear, what would it be?

14-Halberd,war pick,rapier or lance?

15-is it ok to be gay?

16-is it ok to be trans?

17-Is it ok to be non-human (don't remeber the proper term sorry)?

18-Is it ok to be aspec?

19-Is it ok to be french?

20-Aubergines or artichokes?

21-Do you like shiny things?

22-Can i offer you a nice egg in this trying times?

23-Is Susie half human?

24-Do you prefer the taste of sand or coins?

25-Do you like coraline?

26-Favourite number?

27-Are seagulls on your side?

28-From a scale from 1 to 10 how hard would you punch 6 year old self?

29-Hats or no hats?

30-Which dnd class would you be most realisically?

31-Favourite drawing medium?

32-Can you play an instrument?

33-Do you like knives :) ?

34-Have you drunk water?It's been a while here

34.5-We've reached the halway mark

how longer will i be waiting

My deltarune

35-Does love exist?

36-Best movie trope?

37-What does the fox say?

38-Do you like your real voice?

39-Martials or casters?

40-Invisibility or flight+superspeed(both because i know you antisocial brats)?

41-Would you want to stay a kid forever?

42-Top 5 most dysphoric things for you

43-If you HAD to be part of the officialverse what blog would you make?(if already are part of the officialverse you have to make one more blog)

44-Are exagons the bestagons?

45-Do you even care anymore?

46-Do you have any current passion projects?

47-I am looking at a pigeon eating sand

48-Psychological horror?

49-Join my emo band

50-Do you agree withr the fable of the dragon tyrant?

51-Emojis 👍 or 👎?

52-Are you ok?

53-Least favourite bird?

54-What dnd class would you be most realistically?

55-Least favourite periodic element?

56-Tell a joke on hamsters

60-Answer my riddles three he he he

61-Do you have any horse heads under the sheets?

62-How many addictions do you have?

63-Do you need help?

64-Best (not favourite) number?

65-Best metal?

66-HOLY SHITZ WD GASTER!!!?!?!

67-

68-Forever alone or forever with people? (no friends vs paparazzi)

69-Why did you do this?

Plz spread these around peeps

@averydeadshootingstar @geraldthebroccoliman @andyywarhol @pumpkinharvesting @freakingfrackingtired @transparentluminarysalad @someoneverypotter

#revlog game #plz reblog :3

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drewsbuzzcut · 2 years ago

Text

GQ’s Couple’s Quiz

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic

warnings: mentions having kids and I think that’s all… also! how ever many points reader or mat has is after each question they get correct

“Don’t give me that look,” you point at Mat, trying to hold in your laughter, but failing so far. You can’t contain the wide smile that dares to break out on your face.

“I’m not doing anything. Just know, I’m taking your ass down,” Mat declares.

“Okay! Rolling in 3… 2… 1…” the director’s words gathers your and Mat’s attention, the both of you staring at the camera.

“I’m more competitive than you, so I got this in the bag,” you state, confidently.

“We’ll see about that.”

“Hi! I’m Y/n Barzal,” you greet.

“Hi! I’m Mat Barzal,” Mat greets as well.

“And this is GQ’s Couple’s Quiz,” you both say together.

“Are you ready? This one’s hard,” you try to make Mat second guess himself, but you also know his memory isn’t the best.

“Hit me.”

“Who are our kids' godparents, in order from oldest to youngest?”

You see Mat’s face shift to slight panic.

“Nolan’s godparents are Anthony Beauvillier and Devon Lee Carlson. Angels’ godparents are Beverly Blount and Ethan Bear. Sloane’s godparents are Sydney and Matt Martin,” he answers swiftly.

“Correct.”

Mat: 1

“Second question: how old am I?” You know he knows this.

“You, my lovely wife, are 26 beautiful years old, almost 27,” he says, making you feel giddy.

“Okay, hotshot, stop trying to make me flustered.”

Mat: 2

“Do I prefer an intimate setting or a family setting?”

“If we’re talking about a family setting as in us with our kids, then a family setting. Our younger selves would most definitely love an intimate setting, but now that we have a 4 year old, a 1 year old, and a 9 month old, we really enjoy the family setting,” Mat answers flawlessly.

“Correct! I like the way you answered that, babe,” you compliment.

Mat: 3

“What was my first modeling gig?”

Mat rubs his chin, thinking long and hard before answering.

“You can’t be mad if I’m wrong,” he tells you.

“Why can’t I be mad?” You ask, but you’re just messing with him.

“Because I didn’t know you then.”

You gasp in fake surprise, mouth open and hand over your heart.

“You mean you didn’t stalk me on the internet when we were dating?”

“I’m not you,” Mat says, referring to something from the early bits of your relationship, something you’re glad you can laugh about now.

“Ouch that was a low blow,” you fake pout.

“Your first modeling gig was for a fashion show during Paris fashion week when you were 18.”

“Wrong. My first modeling gig was on a local magazine in my hometown when I was 17,” you correct him.

“Oh yeah. I totally forgot about that. Sorry, babe.”

“What’s my favorite movie?”

“That’s easy. It’s The Conjuring. My girl loves her scary movies,” he says proudly.

“It’s true! Mat loves whenever I get to pick the movie on our movie nights. Only because I pretend to be scared and cuddle into him more than I already do,” you look over at Mat with heart eyes to see that he’s already looking back at you with heart eyes.

Mat: 4

“What’s the hardest thing for our family when you’re on roadies?”

“The short disconnect between me and the kids. It’s hard for me to be gone when our babies are still really young. It’s also hard because I’m not always there to help you. You’re a champ for stepping up for me, and there are no words to describe how grateful I am that you’re my life partner. My heart would search for yours in every lifetime,” you tear up at his sweet words, immediately getting out of your chair to hug him. He’s quick to pull you between his legs, arms wrapping around your waist while his head rests on your chest.

Mat: 5

“If I wasn’t a model, what would I be doing?”

“You’d be a writer. Although, I already tell you that you can still be a writer and a model,” Mat says.

“Maybe when I retire modeling, whenever that’ll be.”

Mat: 6

“This one might be hard for you: what was the first name on my ‘baby names’ list?”

“How on earth am I supposed to know that? Umm… was it… I know it’s an S name because we both love S names. It’s Sloane,” Mat guesses.

“Nope. It’s actually Selene. I loved Selene so much, but when we found out our first baby was a boy, I just dropped Selene. I also didn’t want to use it for Sloane. I felt like she needed a whole new name, and Sloane just fits baby girl so well.”

“That’s true. She is meant to be named Sloane,” Mat agrees.

“What’s my favorite sport?”

“Hockey!” He has a cocky smile on his face, but only because he knows he’s the only reason you watch hockey.

“Barzy! I know you know the REAL answer, so answer truthfully.”

“It’s baseball,” he mutters, feigning annoyance.

Mat: 7

“If I could be an animal for a day, what animal would I be?”

“A cat.”

Mat: 8

“What’s my ritual before a fashion show?”

“When you leave for the venue, you give us all kisses. At the venue you listen to the playlist I made you and refrain from talking to anyone for the first 30 minutes so you can center yourself. After those first 30 minutes you like to dance around to get all your nerves out.”

“I’m surprised you remember that,” you grin proudly at your man.

“Well I have been backstage with you for quite a few of those shows. I actually miss being able to see you go through that process. It’s an honor to see you in a vulnerable state outside of the intimacy of our relationship.”

“Baby, I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Mat: 9

“What was my wedding scent?”

“This is so easy because I love that perfume so much. It’s so intoxicating. I swear it’s an aphrodisiac because I just never wanted to be away from you. It’s Maison Margiela’s Replica perfume in the scent: Jazz Club. I especially love when you wear it on special occasions,” Mat answers in a way that can only be described as lovesick.

“It’s true. On our wedding day, we could not be pulled apart. Our lips or hands were always on each other. I’m actually thinking about making it my signature smell, but I’m hesitant because I want it to be for special occasions only,” you ramble, face flustered by bringing up how touchy you and Mat are.

“Special occasions only, babe.”

“What if I said I’m wearing it today?” You tease.

Mat’s head falls back, a moan desperately trying to fly out his mouth. Without a word, he’s out of his chair and throwing you over his shoulder. He walks off set with you while you laugh uncontrollably.

“Barzy! Baby, we have to go back,” you say and even though you’re both off camera, the mic still picks up your voices.

“I love you,” Mat says through a laugh, lips connecting with yours.

As you both walk back, you’re fixing your hair and lipstick before fixing Mat’s shirt.

When you move to walk in front of him, he tickles you from behind, sending you into a fit of giggles. You reach behind yourself to wrap your hands around the back of his neck, pressing your body into his to get him to stop. His hands don’t leave your body, though. They just rest on your stomach.

“Sorry about that,” Mat apologizes while you hide behind your hand, trying to mask your red cheeks and big smile.

Mat: 10

“It’s your turn. Are you ready to lose?” Mat asks, sending you a smirk that makes you want to kiss him.

“I’m loving the aggression, but yes bring it on,” you send a playful glare back at him.

“How old am I?”

“You’re 31 and about to be 32. Old man,” you say in a fake cough, but it just turns out to be a big laugh.

Mat smiles, nose scrunching and he reaches out to tickle your neck.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry,” you try not to yell.

Y/n: 1

“Do I want more babies?”

“Surprisingly, no. Mat wanted to try for Angel and Sloane, but I was hesitant because Nolan was still young. However, I couldn’t deny that I wanted more kids. This time, Mat’s the one who told me he didn’t want anymore kids while I’m actually okay with having another baby. That being said, we won’t be having anymore kids, it’s a mutual agreement and we have our reasons,” you explain.

“Babe, I love the way you speak,” your husband compliments you.

“I love you.”

Y/n: 2

“What food do I hate?”

“Seafood.”

“Wrong. Babe, we just had fish the other day on our date.”

“Wait! Then why did you say no to sushi? I just realized this. Oh my god. You denied me sushi!” You’re appalled because you seriously thought he hated seafood.

“Sorry, I just don’t like sushi.”

“Literally how? It has seafood!” You’re still in shock.

“What’s something I want to learn?”

“You want to learn how to cook. You hate how I’m the one cooking all the time. But guess what guys, I’ve been teaching Mat every time I’m in the kitchen,” you state.

“You’re a great teacher.”

Y/n: 3

“How do you know when I’m mad at you?”

“You’ll give yourself some space or take one of the babies to rock in the rocking chair until you’re ready to talk. However, if I don’t notice you’re upset, you’ll linger around with a pout. The same pout that all our kids have. Sometimes if you’re upset for a small reason, you’ll just kiss me until you snap out of it,” you go through his tells.

“Yeah, your kisses almost always work. They’re magic,” he gets up real quick to peck your lips.

Y/n: 4

“When was our first kiss?”

“When you came to my apartment with flowers and an apology. We just had our first fight, before we were an official couple, and you were hesitant about kissing me so I kissed you first.”

“I think about that day everyday. I can kiss you forever. I will kiss you forever,” he whispers.

“Okay, sap,” you tease.

Y/n: 5

“Where’s somewhere I want to go?”

“Tokyo! We both want to go, so maybe our next couple vacation!”

Y/n: 6

“What are my tattoos?”

You look at him with wide eyes because none of his or your fans know he has tattoos. You knew people were going to freak out.

“Ooo a GQ exclusive! Your tattoos are ‘Nolan,’ ‘Angel,’ and ‘Sloane.’ Our kids' names and they are located on the inside of your fingers. You also have my initial tattoo on your ring finger.” You say animatedly, you’ve been waiting for him to share his tattoos with the public, so you can talk about them freely.

“I need my family with me at all times,” Mat confirms.

Y/n: 7

“Who is my celebrity crush?” You want to wipe the smirk off his face.

You remember the time in your relationship when you got insanely jealous when you found out about his celebrity crush. Now, you think it’s actually funny.

“Your celebrity crush is Zoë Kravitz. Zoë, Mat’s free on sundays. Just kidding. He’s all mine,” you say in giggles.

“Baby, you’re my celebrity crush,” he plays around.

“Liar.”

Y/n: 8

“What’s my go-to snack?”

“You love nutella a lot, so maybe your bagel with nutella?”

“I’ll give you the point because I do love nutella.”

“Thank you!”

Y/n: 9

“What’s the easiest way to make me mad?”

“When I ignore you,” you answer with a little smug smile.

“I hate it!”

“Sometimes I’ll do it so you’ll just kiss me. Or to see you pout because I can kiss your pout away.”

“We kiss a lot,” Mat points out.

“Yeah, well we’re married.”

Y/n: 10

“What’s my favorite color on you?”

“You love me in blue because it inflates your ego,” you roll your eyes. You think about all the times you’ve bought lingerie that was the same blue as the one on his hockey uniform. You immediately blush.

“You just look sexy in blue,” he states.

“Sure,” you say, unconvinced and your arms crossed over your chest.

Mat pulls the chair you’re seated on closer to him, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. You press a chaste kiss to his palm.

“Blue is your best color. I mean you’re even wearing it right now,” he says, pointing at the dark blue top you’re wearing.

“Ugh… kiss me,” he doesn’t keep you waiting.

Y/n: 11

“What makes me laugh?”

“Easy. Angel’s baby giggles make you laugh so much. Oh and you also laugh a lot when we watch jersey shore.”

“Nothing can beat Angel’s giggles. Cutest thing ever.”

Y/n: 12

You get out of your chair, dancing your way to Mat so you can sit on his lap.

“I won! I won! I won!” You sing.

“No, I don’t think so. I definitely have it in the bag,” Mat says, arms wrapped around your waist while your back leans against his chest.

“I’m educated in Y/n Barzal! That should be the name of a bachelor’s degree,” Mat jokes.

“Shushhh,” you quiet him with a finger to his lips. You smile at him, too happy and too in love to ever be bothered with him.

“Please tell us who won,” you requested.

“Y/n has 11/12 correct and Mat has 10/12 correct,” someone from the camera crew tells you.

“HA! I won,” you say in Mat’s face, grabbing his cheeks to kiss his lips repeatedly.

“Sorry if we kiss too much on camera. I just really love my husband,” you muse.

“Thank you so much for watching. I’m actually the winner, but we’ll let Y/n believe she won,” Mat teases you.

“It’s okay, hotshot, we all know I’m the best,” you say playfully.

“Thank you all for watching. We love you,” you add.

“Ready to go? I need more kisses,” Mat carries you out of the camera’s frame.

a/n: I had fun with this one, So I hope y’all enjoy!

#mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal smut #mat barzal angst #mat barzal fluff #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders #visceral in doses #gq couples quiz

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intheupside · 2 years ago

Text

Sidney Crosby: Shrinking (Apple TV+), Prison Break (Hulu)

Alex Nedeljkovic: The Art of Clear Thinking by Hasard Lee; Same as Ever by Morgan Housel (he’s listening to it as an audiobook and reading a physical copy at the same time); Born a Crime by Trevor Noah; The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo; American Sniper by Chris Kyle with Scott McEwen and Jim DeFelice; Red Notice by Bill Browder

Lars Eller: Factfulness by Hans Rosling, Billions (Amazon Prime Video, Paramount+)

Noel Acciari: Reacher (Amazon Prime Video), Mayor of Kingstown and Tulsa King (Paramount+), and “I’m watching Boardwalk Empire (HBO Max) with Steve Buscemi. That one, I’ve seen already twice through. I pick long series that I haven’t seen in a couple years, like last year I did a show called Power (Hulu). Then the year before, I rewatched Game of Thrones (HBO Max). All those long ones.”

Ryan Graves: American Kingpin by Nick Bilton - “it’s unbelievable”; Born to Run by Christopher McDougall; From the Ashes by Jesse Thistle; How I Built This podcast; and the Doctor’s Farmacy podcast.

Rickard Rakell: Mario Kart on Nintendo Switch - “I’m always Waluigi. Because it’s the best character… with the kart and the wheels, he’s the fastest one.”

Drew O’Connor: Entourage (HBO Max)

P.O Joseph: “Watch the Marvel movies, all of them. There’s like, 26. That’ll keep you busy during the week. You watch two a day, you’re not even going to get half of it done. I finished all of them. I did them in (chronological order versus order of release), so Captain Marvel is first, then Captain America.”

Marcus Pettersson: When We Were Kings podcast; and “I go through a lot of shows. I feel like there's a lot of different ones that catch my eye, but I like more sci-fi or fantasy. Like the new Lord of the Rings show, I watched… the new Game of Thrones, I've watched… and the old Game of Thrones, all of those. I watched a show early in the summer called Silo on Apple TV+. It's a really good one.”

pens recs for the bye week

#sidney crosby #alex nedeljkovic #lars eller #noel acciari #ryan graves #evgeni malkin #drew o connor #po joseph #rickard rakell #marcus petterson #pittsburgh penguins

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galaxy-fleur · 1 month ago

Note

Would you mind talking a little bit more about how you see the difference between Nick and Matt's Leon and trying to get both to converge in RE9 ? It's not something I've personally thought all that much about, but I've seen a bunch of people mention it, and now I'm really curious to the point I'm rewatching stuff to compare.

Oh boy, this was actually way harder to explain than I thought, I hope I don't sound confusing with this! This is gonna get embarrassingly long, I'm sorry in advance 💀

See, for me, a lot of my reception of a character hinges on their performance rather than just their writing alone. Of course, these two aspects are intrinsically connected, but they still stand on their own too, at least for me. Perhaps that's because I'm someone who tends to study a character's mannerisms to get them right in my own works, but I do tend to spend a lot of my time just... studying how characters behave and how they express themselves, and, naturally, a lot of it (most of it, really) depends on the actor's performance rather than just writing. The tone of voice they use or don't use, the words and phrases they tend to fall back on, and how they use them, their quirks and mannerisms, etc. Like, I am not exaggerating when I say I can spend a good hour or so revisiting gameplay/movie just to get a good feel on how a certain character talks for some silly fanfic that, like, a 100 people will read lol.

I know I did a good 40-minute rewatch session for re6 Ada, for example, just to remind myself of her dialogue quirks. Or revisiting every single Wesker appearance in RE4R to make sure I get his mannerisms and tone of voice right without making him too cold or too dry, which can be easy to fall into with him.

It's that bad for me LMAO. I have no idea how prevalent that sort of thing is among other fans, genuinely. So I'm solely speaking for myself and how I perceive things here.

Now, the thing I see brought up most often is more of a technical one. Nick just doesn't sound old enough, and when he pushes himself to do that, it sounds unnatural. Honestly, I feel his pain on that, because my own voice hadn't changed all that much since I was, like, 17, I think. Online interviews are a massive pain in the ass for me when I sound like a teenager at a ripe age of 26. So, imagining Nick trying to pull off a 51 year old Leon is... tricky, naturally. Can't really do much when your voice is just like that.

Ok now onto the actual question (I talk way too much).

I think it's sorta important to remember that Nick and Matt are both passionate about the way they bring Leon to life. Both love the guy to bits and pieces, and hearing them talk about him and how they bring him to life, is always such a joy. I love actors who clearly make the most of their roles. But I kinda feel like that's exactly why they are such a bad match when it comes to Nick taking after Matt. Passionate actors are great, but them being passionate about a character means they have pretty solid and strong interpretations of them, and it can be hard to step out of that.

Nick started acting out his Leon as a completely blank slate. There was no expectation for him to take after anyone, his Leon was a completely new take on this character that he was tasked to bring to life singlehandedly. And he did so wonderfully, obviously. We all love rookie Leon here. Think even those who don't like Nick agree that he did a great job for him in RE2R. I think that's sorta why he had such a hard time when it came to ID Leon later on, and I'll get into that later.

I'm sure you heard it from some other people already, but Nick's older Leon (be it RE4R or ID) is more broody. More serious. More detached. He's not unemotional, of course, far from it, despite what some might say, but his performance is more subtle in nature. Nick's Leon often being read as a cold asshole by those who don't put much effort into engaging with him on a deeper level - is a direct consequence of that.

Basically, Nick's Leon is a hardened man who's seen a bit too much to be all sunshine and rainbows, with a heart of gold underneath all the heartache he'd faced. If I was to go all poetic with it. RE4R Leon is deeply caring, don't get me wrong, it's something I keep repeating. But it's easy to overlook that care and warmth in him if you only look at him on the surface level. Nick's Leon's softness is far more subtle than many RE fans are used to. You need to actually engage with the story and his character, connect to him, to see it.

I'm not gonna say if that's good or bad. That's a matter of preference, really. As I said, I do love Nick's performance very much. Man always puts his all into this role and damn, do I respect it.

The way Matt goes about acting out his Leon is very different from Nick. Matt's Leon is not nearly as subtle in his performance. His emotions are pretty much always up on full display, be it anger, or humor, or softness and warmth. Matt's Leon is open and wears his heart on his sleeve in spite of the world beating him down for it over and over again. He's not subtle in the way he gets emotional. He lashes out in anger. Or he throws all caution to the wind to show someone he cares.

He's also notoriously more relaxed and lighthearted in his demeanor. While Nick's Leon throwing corny one-liners reads as him being a cool badass or trying to cope with a stressful situation, Matt's delivery always makes them feel like genuine quips he throws in that are supposed to be humorous.

Basically, Nick's Leon = uses one-liners in a way that makes him seem genuinely cool. Matt's Leon = uses one-liners in a way that makes him sound like a lovable dork.

It's just one tiny aspect. But it makes a world of difference, still.

Matt's Leon is way more on the nose, and you don't have to read between the lines to understand what he's feeling. Again, whether that's good or bad is mainly about preference. But it is different.

So, we come to Nick playing Leon in ID. And why his performance falls flat for many people, myself included. I said that we get this weird amalgamation of Leon talking like his old self but sounding like his new self, and that's exactly what I mean with Nick failing to be at his best when it comes to acting out og Leon. You can sort of tell he wasn't sure what to do with Leon here. He sounds very similarly to his RE4R Leon: serious tone of voice for the majority of the time and pretty measured delivery. A man on the job, and a man who's certainly seen a bit too much for his own good.

It feels very confusing, is how I'd describe it.

But his dialogue was obviously written with og Leon in mind, and there were times where he was clearly supposed to sound witty or lighthearted, but it just came off forced and stilted, instead of Leon sounding like he was genuinely having fun. When people complain that ID Leon sounds 'constipated', pretty sure that's what they're referring to.

That's kinda why some took his infamous 'asking out Shen Mei' scene as some elaborate attempt at getting more info, I think. Nick's delivery ruins the intention of the scene. Leon is technically just asking out a beautiful woman since there's nothing else for him to do, and he might as well enjoy his stay. That's what Leon does. When things are obviously out of his depth but there's nothing he can do about it, he settles for making the best of his circumstances. But when Nick performs the scene, his delivery is more awkward and stilted than a sincere attempt at hitting on her would sound like. Hell, even his chuckle feels kind of forced rather than genuine amusement.

Even with more serious scenes, like his genuine anger at Shen Mei once he finally confronts her at gun point, it just feels... way more stilted than you would expect from regular Leon.

Nick is great when it comes to more subtle and deep exchanges. I genuinely love the way he acted out his conflict with Claire by the end there, for example. That quiet acceptance instead of any attempt at fighting back is amazing at relaying where he stands there emotionally. But it is, again, subtle. Matt's Leon is anything but subtle.

Nick was at his strongest in re4r because, once again, it played for his strengths, not his weaknesses. Leon's performance in re4r is subtle, in writing and performance alike, and he leans into that fully, and sounds so much better for it. That's why I have no problems with him continuing to act out Leon in future remakes. The offer a very different take on his character, and Nick has all the strengths and talent to bring him to life.

It's really no wonder, too, I did say that both Nick and Matt are passionate about Leon. But the way they see him is different. Matt's Leon is as open as he is because Matt views Leon as someone who's selfless to a fault and wears his heart on his sleeve. Matt's Leon is a lovable dork who happens to be a real badass. Nick, on the other hand, puts a lot of emphasis on Leon's emotional pain when he talks about him, the weight of his experiences and how they hardened him in the long run. So, his performance reflects that. His Leon is more closed off and weary because of his past heartaches.

I also think Nick's performance is of the more subtle kind because he plays Leon, fully. He's not just a VA, like Matt is, he's Leon's actor. So he definitely puts a lot of thought into acting with his body language, too. Meanwhile Matt only ever voiced, Leon, and most of his acting goes into that, naturally.

Now, again, if Nick is in re9, he might surprise us. He's a more experienced actor now, and there might be a good team helping him along to make sure he's at his best. I hope that's the case, really. But I'd probably still be disappointed. I feel like it's genuinely very hard for Nick to capture the essence of what makes Matt's Leon who he is, not when he has such a strong idea of who Leon is already. He tries to sound like Matt, but he doesn't. Which, of course he doesn't, it's not enough to just try and take after an actor, you need to know why they act out a character the way they do. And if your interpretations of a character clash? Well, that's a recipe for a very confused performance.

If he really is in re9, I'd much rather have him just act out his Leon, than try and take after Matt again. I'll be sad about it, but at least then Nick will be at his best for sure. And I'll appreciate that regardless of my grievances.

Still, I genuinely wish they'd hire someone new if Matt can't come back for whatever reason. I feel like the longer Nick works with the remakes, the harder it's gonna be for him to separate from them. And he really shouldn't have to, either. It's way easier to take on a new role if you don't already have massive baggage of acting out that same character in a completely different tone.

I hope I explained myself somewhat coherently... Now, again, this is just my own personal views on all this lol. I have no idea how accurate they are to other fans who also don't want Nick to play Leon in re9.

#mia talks #listen i'm just kinda insane and obsessed with studying character dialogue

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mickandmusings · 1 year ago

Text

brotherly advice

pairing: professor au!sam winchester x TA! fem! reader

word count: 1.3k

summary: when breakout attorney sam winchester decided to leave his life of law to teach at his alma mater, nearly everyone in his life thought he had made a mistake. sometimes your biggest 'mistake' can lead to the happiest of consequences.

based on this request! (so sorry, I saw your request and my mind ran with this idea. it's probably not exactly the idea you had in mind.)

warnings: fluff, age gap relationship (sam is in his 30s, reader is in her 20s), au from supernatural tv show, sam and dean are still close because I refuse to believe they wouldn't be in any other universe, probably incorrect law terms/knowledge (author has little law knowledge), probably incorrect college knowledge (author was never a ta)

When Sam Winchester-up and coming, breakout young attorney-announced his early quits of practicing law to return to his alma mater to teach, everyone had called him crazy.

Well, almost everyone.

The day Sam decided he wanted to quit, he sat in his older brother's garage, his tie untied and the sleeves of his formal shirt rolled up his arms, nursing a beer. Sam finally spilled his well-kept secret to Dean, awaiting another disappointed look and pleas for him to rethink this. Instead, Dean nodded, took a swig of his own beer and began working underneath the hood of the car between them.

"Good for you," Dean's rough voice came after a moment. "I don't think you're making a mistake at all, Sammy. You should go for it, that job is suckin' the life outta you."

Sam knew Dean was right, Dean had always been wise in his own way. A few weeks later, Sam had settled into a life of sweater vests and headaches induced by reading half-assed international law essays from freshmen. Sam had been hunched over the desk in his office, rubbing his temples with his eyes closed when the sound of his office door opening alerted him to someone entering the room. He sighed, not even looking up before he spoke.

"Office hours are on Mondays and Thursdays."

"Um, noted, but I'm not here for office hours. I'm Y/N, your new TA? You are Professor Winchester, right?"

Sam's green eyes popped open, looking up at the figure standing in front of his desk. Y/N stood in front of Sam's desk with a wide-eyed look, and Sam took in her appearance. She was dressed in a professional manner, a folder of papers in her arms and an unconvincing smile drawn across her face. Sam swallowed thickly as he felt embarrassment wash over him, he had completely forgotten about meeting his new TA today.

"Uh, right! Of course, I-It completely slipped my mind, it's been a long day already. And please, call me Sam."

Y/N chuckled slightly, sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

"It's alright, Sam, I get it."

Over the course of the first few weeks of Sam and Y/N's newfound work relationship, Sam noted several things about her-Y/N was quiet, punctual, and completely professional. To Sam, she was too reserved, he was used to the cocky blabbing of attorneys at his old job and Dean's (mostly) nonsensical chatter in his leisure. After weeks of her sheer silence, Sam began the efforts of getting her to talk, which seemed to work in his favor. He quickly learned things about her: Y/N was a senior law student at 26-a late bloomer in the college world, her favorite movie of all time was Top Gun-which Sam made fun of her incessantly for-and her favorite guilty pleasure was the chocolate croissants at the bakery across from her apartment. Through their completely unserious chatter, he found out more personal things about her, like how she truly, truly hated law. It had been her parents idea for her college plans, not her true heart's desire. Y/N wanted to be a writer, to write her own series of fantasy books.

As the school year progressed, so did Sam and Y/N's friendship. She found herself hanging around his office more often, enjoying his company versus that of her classmates. Late office hours turned into him inviting her for dinner at the local 24-hour diner, and their dinners turned into something neither of them wanted to admit: Sam quickly found himself staring at Y/N longer than necessary, and Y/N kept imagining what it would be like to run her hands through Sam's long hair.

After Y/N's graduation from Stanford, their talks had moved to his apartment: Y/N spending hours helping him grade essays or Sam helping her proofread chapters of her own book over glasses of wine, all of which led to Y/N sleeping on Sam's couch-despite his protests and begs of her to take his bed instead. However, after a night of one-too-many glasses of wine and brushing touches of each other's hands, Y/N and Sam had ended up sharing the bed instead. Now, her fantasy novels lived on the same bookcase as Sam's textbooks, her sneakers in the door next to his much larger boots, and her weighted blanket that Sam's feet peeked out from the bottom of was draped across their bed, which is where the pair slept this very moment.

The sound of Sam's six AM alarm made Y/N's eyes open sleepily, realize where she was, and more notably, what time it was, before she curled back into her pillow and closed her eyes. The sound of Sam's yawning and the removal of his arm slung around her waist made her groan, feeling cold without Sam's furnace-like warmth against her. She heard Sam shuffle into the bathroom to get ready for his morning run, her eyes fluttering shut again, barely even registering the kiss he left on her forehead before he left out the door.

Y/N woke several hours later, sunlight shining through the curtains of she and Sam's bedroom, birds chirping in the distance, and the sound of Sam's footsteps sounded in the kitchen-likely cooking breakfast. Y/N stretched her arms up, lifting the covers and sliding on her slippers as she shuffled lazily into their living room. Sam's tall figure stands at the stove, flipping something in a pan. His running clothes had been traded for his leisurely lounge wear, his hair still damp from his post-run shower. She guessed he hadn't heard her come in yet, so she slowly made her way to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and resting her head on his back, still sleepy.

Sam laughs, his empty hand rested on her arms, his chest warming at her touch His voice comes out low and soft.

"Mornin', baby."

Y/N groans, still not quite awake enough for words. Sam laughs, turning off the eggs he was cooking and pulling her to his front, her head resting on his chest now. Sam kisses her head, his hand running through her unstyled hair. Silence ensues, until Y/N notes new items on their counter-a bouquet of carnations and dahlias in a vase of water, and the signature red box adorning the logo of the bakery across from her old apartment. Her head lifts to rest her chin on Sam's chest, looking up at him.

"Flowers?"

Sam's eyes swivel to the flowers in the vase before turning back to her.

"Yeah, got those from that flower cart right down the bakery, the one that elderly couple runs?"

Y/N's mind blanks, her sentence coming out without thinking.

"You bought me flowers?"

Sam gives her a confused smile, his hand tucking the hair in her face behind her ear.

"Uh, yeah?" He lets out a confused chuckle. "Baby, are you still asleep?"

Y/N looks up at him. "Why?"

Sam furrows his eyebrows, his big green eyes meeting hers.

"Does there have to be a reason? Just, saw the flowers, they were beautiful, made me think of you." Sam shrugs.

Y/N's eyes go soft, her shoulders dropping as a smile forms on her face. She stands on her tiptoes to reach Sam's lips, his hands coming on either side of her hips as he deepens the kiss.

"I love you, Sam Winchester," Y/N speaks after they break apart, the statement causing Sam to pull her in for another kiss, completely forgetting about his own breakfast in favor of enjoying her touch.

Nearly everyone had told Sam he had made the biggest mistake of his life, but now, as he looked at the woman he loved, he realized he hadn't thought anything he did was a mistake. He was glad he'd taken his brother's advice. Y/N smiled at his big green eyes and goofy smile, pulling him in for another kiss, her hand running through his hair. Sam smiled into the kiss and pulled her closer by her hips.

He'd have to thank Dean later.

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #request

71 notes · View notes

madjosie · 1 year ago

Text

Thorns and Roses | Bangchan (pt.1)

f!reader x detective!bangchan

Part two here

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

Words: 12k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only 26 years old?”

“Yep, and a quite successful businessman.”

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

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

“Is she in for questioning?”

“Yep, they got her in right now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Lila?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Twice,” Chris nodded. “I think.”

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

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

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

Just take a deep breath and stop being a bitch.

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

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

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

“Lila Bennett.”

“Adriana Lee.”

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

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

“Girlfriend.”

“Lila's friend.”

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

The woman in front of him just nodded.

“Correct?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you think Jaehyun deserved it?”

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

“Do you want the honest answer?”

“Yes.”

“I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What style of bouquet are you looking for?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You listen to classical music?”

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

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

“Oh definetley not, stick to classical.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hyunjin shrugged his shoulders. „Debt maybe?“

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

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

„Do you have any connections to the victims?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"One coffee with milk, please."

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

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

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

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

"How much for the both?"

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

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

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

"Yeah, sure."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Much less than last night."

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

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

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

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

"How is she holding on?"

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

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

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

She just nodded, not a word escaping her mouth.

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

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

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

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

"How often do you sell those roses?"

Her head snapped toward the direction he was looking.

"Which ones?"

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

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

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

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

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

"How long ago?"

"Are you interrogating me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You know them?"

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

"How do you know them?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Here is my mom," a voice said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No," Chris replied curtly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No chance," Chris replied firmly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

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

„Lila?“

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

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

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

Silence.

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

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

„What the fuck?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Adriana?“

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

„You alright?“

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

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

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

Keep your mouth shut

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

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

„You miss her?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My dad was an asshole."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're giving us away

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

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

Get away from him

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

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

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

Despite his efforts, she was long gone.

“Shit.”

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

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

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

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