#i Had just finished watching my policeman with my best friend

[weldnas]

if you think that i could post that without sobbing myself then you're wrong. physically hurt me while putting the tattoos together 🤧🤧

The amount of song I can and do appropriate to Zouis in FITF is concerning I can barely catch a breath listening to it

[consumeronionbulletin]

My Lovely Liar (2023)

This drama was soo good, right up until it wasn't...

Sometimes a great drama runs out of energy right at the finish line. And it's more disappointing than a drama that just plods along the whole way.

What Worked

The premise is simple and amazing: Sol-Hui has a gift / curse that she can always tell when someone lies. It's made her lots of money and no friends. Suddenly, this reclusive neighbor with a mysterious past moves in and everything changes.

At its best, the show was funny and thrilling and cute and romantic, and I loved the first 11-12 episodes.

What Didn't Work

Then they took us on a small town murder mystery, and dragged the story around without advancing the plot, and the big reveal was (*spoilers**spoilers**spoilers*) the closeted gay producer accidentally (?) did the murder and got away with it while accidentally (??) framing his best friend / secret love interest (*end spoilers*). At least the made him feel sorry for what he did, but really it should have been (*spoiler*) the father (*spoiler*) in my opinion. That man deserved to go to jail in any case.

The Performances

Kim So-hyun as ("Liar Hunter") Mok Sol-hui. Amazing to watch. She knew when to lean into the campy parts, and when to be serious, but mostly she knew how to make the premise (which could be ridiculous at times) completely believable.

Hwang Min-hyun as ("Naive Composer") Kim Do-ha. I got frustrated with the choices they had him make. He was too naive and probably should have been killed multiple times, and yet they just let him go on being oblivious. That was mostly on the writers, but still it made me want to throw things. You can't trust crazy guys with knives who want to murder you! You can't trust cops! You really can't trust cops that used to date your current girlfriend! Not even once!! On the other hand, his chemistry with Kim So-hyun was very good.

Seo Ji-hoon as ("Mr. Policeman") Lee Kang-min. On a different kind of show, this guy would have been a secondary villain. Instead he was the second male lead with a sad backstory. He had a few good moments, but the writing made him very vanilla, and Seo Ji-hoon didn't really add anything to him.

Lee Si-woo as ("Crazy Ex-pop star") Syaon. I loved to hate her through most of this, which shows that Lee Si-woo did a good job with the material. It was like a Makjang pop-princess wandered in from another show and started messing with the plot and I enjoyed that. Then they had to clean up her act for the obligatory happy ending, and she was less interesting.

Yoon Ji-on as ("Mr. CEO") Cho Deuk-chan. This was the worst case of character assassination in favor of a lame mystery that I've seen in awhile. The actor made it kind of work, but this was just a poor writing decision. It may have been okay, if they'd let us know the character better and peeled back the layers the way they did with Choi Eom-ji, but it would definitely have changed the tone of the show. They could have had a light hearted show, or they could have had a good mystery, but these writers at least weren't able to do both.

Nam Hyun-woo as ("The worst little bro") Cho Jae-chan. I really despised this guy throughout most of the show (so a good acting job, really), then they turned him into a patsy in service of the stupid mystery and toned the character down a bit, and it just made him less interesting. Decent performance with what he was given.

Park Kyung-hye as Cassandra. It's always great seeing Park Kyung-hye at work, and I loved the dynamic between her character and the rest of the Liar Hunter gang. They could have ditched some of the other b-plots and given us more with her and I would have been happy, but I still liked what I got.

Jin Kyung as ("The Worst Mother") Cha Hyang-suk. Again, another Makjang character let loose on an unsuspecting population, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Well until they decided to try and fix her messy relationship with Sol-hui's father, but that was still kind of okay.

Seo Jeong-yeon as ("Bad Politician Mother") Jung Yeon-mi. I liked how terrible this character was. I just wish they'd had the courage to let her be terrible. I feel like there was this need to undercut her ambitious nature that they wouldn't have bothered to do with a similar male character, and that was frustrating, but the performance was still pretty good overall.

Song Ji-hyun as ("Crazy Dead Girlfriend") Choi Eom-ji. I liked how complex they made her. One of the strong points for the show was how this young woman (and her death) touched different characters lives both good and bad. There was something about her arc at the end of the show that left a bad taste, but the performance overall was good.

Kwon Dong-ho as ("Walking Assault Case") Choi Eom-ho. This was another example of a Makjang character let loose, but I think they needed to reign him in just a little bit. Just did way too much assault, fraud, and general criminal behavior without any consequences and it frustrated me.

Seo Hyun-chul as ("Real Folk Blues") Jang Joong-gyu. Honorable mention to the guy that ran the jazz club, just because he was fun to watch and I really liked his interactions with the other characters.

The Other Village People. I kind of didn't care about the other business owners in Yonso-dong. Sometimes it was amusing, but mostly it was just okay. It was kind of fun watching the bakery owner dump flour all over the shifty real-estate people's office.

Everyone else. The bodyguard was fun at times, but overall not that interesting. The subplot with the up and coming wanna-be pop stars was lame. The stuff with the terrible dance coach who went after Syaon was frustrating and a little lame. Also, the cop stuff was kind of cute, but I still don't like cops. At least the crooked cop that got paid off by Bad Politician Mom was somewhat realistic. Mostly with the apathy, low pay, and general lack of accountability.

TL; DR:

Overall a good show that kind of limped into the finish line. The cute romantic stuff was very cute, the lie detector hijinks were very amusing, and the trauma bonding over terrible parents was also fun to watch. Just wish they'd made a few different choices.

[therianfoxcatcrow]

Little story for you guys

Casey ran away at 14. Her parents were abusive and were not good parents at all. When she ran away, nobody looked for her. Not her parents, not the police, nobody. Casey never told anyone and no one knew, because she lived a good life outside alone. She had her group of people who all ran away and helped each other. All the people in the group ranged from 13-19 years old. The older kids made money to help the younger kids who could not get jobs. These people called themselves ‘The Lost Ones’. The Lost Ones lived in the woods in the corner where nobody could find them. In the magic world of The Lost Soul Isle, it was hard to keep yourself hidden. This is because people could find you with magic. All the kids of The Lost Ones combined their magic to make a protection force in case someone found the group. Ava ran away at 13. Her parents forced her to be perfect and did not care about what she wanted. She was left-handed before her parents forced her to be right-handed to fit in with society. But Ava did not fit in with society. She could not sit still, focus, or pay attention. Her parents did not care what it took for her to get great grades. Late nights and coffee are the things that kept her getting straight A’s. After not being able to take it anymore, she attempted suicide. When she told her parents, they just shrugged it off. Running away was the best decision in her opinion, even with all the problems that came along with it. Her parents and the police trying to find her, hiding, and sneaking in to get more clothes and a little more money. Even though she was now 14, she had a job. As a babysitter of course. Her life was good and after running away, she started to enjoy school. At school, she started to try and be more social and make some friends because she never had any. Ava saw a girl that she thought she knew. Why she felt like she knew this girl was because when Ava was trying to find a spot to stay in the woods for the night, she saw her. The girl, Casey, saw her and ran to warn The Lost Ones that someone was in the woods. But back at school, Ava tried to get Casey’s attention. In class, Ava got caught staring at Casey multiple times. Whenever there were group projects, Ava would ask Casey. Casey always said yes. During the most recent group project, Casey asked Ava to come to the next track meet. Without thinking, Ava said yes. That is how she is now at the track meet, staring at the blue and purple monster girl with a third eye. As Ava was watching the meet, she saw that Casey was inching toward first place when a girl with a floating skull for a head pushed Casey. This sent her tumbling to the ground right before the finish line. As the other competitors crossed the finish line, Casey stared at the ground and tried to gather her broken breath. Immediately, Ava was running off the bleachers and toward Casey. Even though people tried to stop her, Ava got to Casey eventually. 

“Ava?” Casey said.

“It’s ok. I got you. I got you.” Ava said as she picked Casey up princess-style. As they walked to the nurse, Casey just looked at Ava with wide eyes, realizing how strong she was. After the nurse took care of Casey, Ava walked with her.

“I’m fine,” Casey said.

“I know, but I want to get you home nice and safe ok?” Ava said.

“That might be interesting where we’re going...” As they were walking down the cobblestone street, Ava started to speak.

“Hey, random question, but do you hang out in the woods often?”

“Uhh yes, why?” Casey started to get nervous.

“Because I saw you there one day,” Ava said as she kicked a small stone off the street

“Oh! Um yeah, I hang out there often with my friends. Anyway...” Casey seemed to not want to talk about the topic.

“So, where is your house anyway? Oh shoot, hide me! quick!” Ava said surprised.

“What?! What is it?” Casey said quickly as she looked around frantically.

“The police. We need to find a place to hide.” Ava said as she looked at what the policeman was holding. It was a missing kid's paper with her name and face on it. Ava’s tail went in between her legs. Casey could tell that Ava was telling the truth and was very scared. Both of the girls ducked into a bathroom

“Why are the police after you?” Casey asked with a confused look.

“Um, I’m kind of a missing kid. Surprise” Ava said while doing jazz hands. Casey’s eyes went wide.

“Follow me. Quick!” Casey said unexpectedly while pulling Ava’s hand. They started to run to the woods. The police did not see them, so it was easy to get away. Once they got to the woods, Casey let go of Ava’s hand.

“Sorry.” They both said at the same time.

“So where are we?” Ava asked.

“Hey Case!” Said a deep voice

“Hey Mark!” Replied Casey. “This is Ava. She’s also a runaway like us. Can she stay? Please?”

“Yeah, she can stay. We take in anyone who needs help. Welcome! Guys, what do we say?” Mark said with one eyebrow raised.

“Welcome to The Lost Ones, Ava!” Said everyone in the group. Ava started to talk with the other kids to get to know them and tell stories. This left Mike and Casey alone.“So, you got a girlfriend I see,” Mike said. Casey just stood there and blushed.

[evenasyoungastheyare]

Good evening/morning,

I wanted to send you a special edited version of the message going around today.

When you receive this, know you made somebody happy! If you get one back, even better! <3

What made me happy you ask. Only you posting a new original drawing of LT on the 28th of the month! THE 28TH OF THE MONTH!!! Do you know what this means to me. When I saw the post I was "No way, they posted an original today. Oh my!" Being able to reblog your artwork on the 28th gave me a lot of joy!! Your artwork is full of wonder (wonderful). So thank you!

Then dedicating it to me your lovely anon. More joy!!! (Don't get me started about calling me lovely.) People commenting on how good you artwork is. More joy!!!!

I know, I know that makes 4 pieces of art for me. Bright side - 1 more to go. (Remember my favourite number is five.)

I thought about you today. I purchased a couple knitted hats today at a craft/vendor event. How is your knitting going? Are you going to be done your projects in time for Christmas.

Have your watched HS movies? Did you like one better than the other?

Sorry that you were feeling poorly last week. Hope you are feeling better now?

As always wishing you the best. More joy!!!!!

Hello my Lovely Anon,

thank you so much. I am ok, hooray! I am very happy you like the drawing. I hope the next one will be better. :)

I visit my friends today and we had kind of birthday party. One of my friend had birthday yesterday. I have not finish her hat but fortunately she understands and does not mind. I will give it to her during this week. Btw, it is so nice you thought of me when you bought the knitted hats (I wish I could knit you a hat so you do not need to buy any) :´).

I feel like a knitting machine :D. I made like 7 hats, 3 cowls, and finished 2 sweaters during November. I am in the middle of the sweater for my mum and I hope I will be able to finish it until the end of next week because I want to knit her a vest she really wants (I thnik I will not be able to finish it before Christmas but I hope I can make it during holidays).

Still have to knit at leas two headbands - one for my neighbour and one fo my colleague.

Well. Thats it.

About the films. I am really looking forward to watch My Policeman, I wanted to watch it few weeks ago but I just had no time. I want to watch it properly. I hope I will find some time next week. I have not seen DWD and I am not sure I can watch it. Idk.

And what about you? I hope you are doing well.

Thank you very much for the message, it made me smile. You truly are very lovely. Have a nice day!

[santiagonex]

so much gay stuff on air so much gay stuff coming and honestly only 5% of that is watchable but sure let’s talk about all the blue hair yas yas slays why not but remember real serves first and then the trash is gonna be name dropped at the bottom of this post where it belongs... okay actually not lemme just mix it all up you can be the judge of it

first upcoming, planned or recently released movies three two one let’s go... BROS Billy Eichner and Luke Macfarlane gonna play dude bro lovers there’s budget because universal is taking care of the movie the whole cast is ghey and majority of them are playing straights bewm next Fire Island gay rom-com it looks very Iimp wristy but my daddy Ben from Legacies is there so yas yas purr or whatever next My Fake Boyfriend starring Keiynan Lonsdale, Dylan Sprouse and Sarah Hyland honestly dont know whos gonna fawk who but lets go... another one My Policeman with Harry Styles honestly not gonna watch but yay another sad gay drama movie as if we dont have enough already okay... The Mattachine Family honestly don’t care about this one at all but stars Nico Tortorella and Juan Pablo Di Pace so maybe it’s not gonna be THAT bad... okay The History of Sound now this one I could talk about for hours and hours and hours a whole 120 page masters thesis because Josh O'Connor and Paul Mescal playing gay lovers can be something so personal to me I’m so serious right now we’re gonna be tuning in on laptops tv computers phones cinemas we will watch it MULTIPLE times idc idc... Treatment sounds horrible it probably will flop but Cole Doman and Brian J. Smith are in it it’s gonna be some psychological home of phobic shjt honestly don’t care moving on Spoiler Alert is a film adaptation of the bestselling memoir 'Spoiler Alert: The Hero Dies' by Michael Ausiello, in the tragicomic love story, Michael is plunged into an emotional maelstrom during the 11 months after his partner, photographer Kit, is diagnosed with cancer which will probably make me cry... Jim Parsons and Ben Aldridge gonna play them so definitely gonna be good... okay quick lil space for upcoming/recently released flops i do NOT care about just use google IDGAF: Sin ti no puedo, Now & Then, The Liar (starring Asa Butterfield, but it’s probably shelved), Al mar, La Revanche des Crevettes Pailletées, Cosas de Amigos, Cassandro, Benediction, Great Freedom, Il filo invisibile, Sisid, Exploited (sigh), Cop Secret (got a chance to see it... it was SAUR bad), Things Like This, 8 años... okay now that’s behind us we can continue... Cobalt Blue... they had the AUDACITY tellin us it’s gonna be out on Netflix in December 2021 and nothing let’s hope they’ll release this year... Red, White & Royal Blue now this one gonna be a classic but we still don’t know much about it only that Greg Berlanti will produce... Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe I mean everyone must be excited for this one not sure if they finished filming already but the main thing is that it’s really happening and we CANNOT wait it was my first gay book I read and it’s just MWAH... The Inspection this one gonna be good because Jeremy Pope is attached playing a young gay man who enlists in the Marines definitely gonna keep my i out for this one... In from the Side gay men rugby is all you need to know phew okay, Sublime gonna be basically Mi mejor amigo but actually gay this time around hopefully, Three Months movie starring Troye Sivan it was mid idk ok nothing special, The Outlaws is set in 1920s and it’s basically gonna be about a flirtatious caper between two men which will erupt into a Johnny and Clyde-style crime spree yes more of this be gay do crimes we’re tired of the same ole coming out home of phobia high school blue hair stories give me fantasy give me thrillers give me action next Humo bajo el agua two chiIdhod friends meeting again after 30 years and just be gay good for them, The Swimmer... she’s a cute girl! Badhaai Do masterpiece Bollywood classic actually best movie this year so far it’s such a classic... basically a lesbian and a gay man willingly getting married to get everyone off their back and it’s so funny and emotional and just ugh they dealt with it so delicately go watch it ASAP... The Parenting is a comedy centering on a young gay couple, who host a meeting of their parents during a weekend at a cozy rental house in the country... gonne be crazy and funny I guess, it will have Brandon Flynn and Nik Dodani as the gay couple and Lisa Kudrow is also there haiii queen! there are like 10 more movies I could name but they will probably flop and no one will check for them IDGAF!

next up planned, upcoming and recently released gay centric shows ouuu let’s get into IT... Hearstopper bewm everyone knows what’s up and we will tune in hopefully it won’t be very blue hair because we’re not very fond of that insert that dog meme anyways Invisible Life which will be based on E. Lynn Harris trilogy of novels following a young black man’s journey of self-discovery as he realizes he is gay... Queer as Folk another reboot this time it’s gonna be very woke, KinnPorsche aka the only BL with actual budget ouuu it’s gonna be so good the trailer was just on another level the othe girlies should learn... Uncoupled starring Neil Patrick Harris don’t care moving on, They Both Die at the End and More Happy Than Not are both set to be TV series let’s hope it won’t get shelved and Silvera will pull through, Semantic Error a K-drama saur saur saur good and entertaining we love her, still not 10/10 none of them actually are what happened to classics? give me the real shit give me the magic now here’s the real one two three punch sIay OUUUU Big Boys - the funny and heartbreaking six-part series follows the unlikely friendship between sweet, shy, closeted Jack (Derry Girls' Dylan Llewellyn) and his new university roommate – the boisterous, laddish and ever-so-slightly mature student Danny (Jon Pointing) everybody cheered... Wrecked - the six-part comedy-horror series follows Jamie, a 20-year-old gay man who infiltrates a luxury cruise ship in search of his missing sister and my boo Jack Rowan is there too a CLASSIC... Half Bad - Netflix series adaptation of SaIIy Green's queer-inclusive fantasy trilogy ouuu everybody gasped... The Temperature of Me and You - Brian Zepka's YA sci-fi novel is set for a series adaptation at Disney+ as well but seeing how Love, Victor ended up I’m just gonna pretend it’s not happening because the pretending will actually become reality and it will get shelved just like Four Dads did... Ser o no ser - series focused on Joel who months after beginning his transition starts a drama course at a new high school where no one knows him, which allows him to present himself to the others as he has always seen himself... there’s not a lot of shows where the T in LGBT is actually being the main focus of a show so this is definitely a move in the right direction and even though based on the trailer, Joel is straight, there is a main gay romance as well, not with the characters I wanted but whatever, you win some you lose some...  ok there is also a show with Manu Rios La edad de la ira but I just don’t care... and the czech sIay TBH, the main romantic focus is the gay storyline which is unheard of for Czechia when it comes to series so wooo it was an okay show with an okay gay storyline at the heart of the show just two floorball player besties turning into lovers simple as that... also there are some very disturbing ones and I just don’t feel like searching their names right now oh we’re so bored give us a new topic or you know what here you go just the names: This Is Going to Hurt and Four Lives now I’m definitely getting tired just one more paragraph lemme pull through

now upcoming and ongoing gay storylines... my boos Ivan and Patrick in upcoming Élite season in two weeks I’m so excited they better provide us the best gay storyline of all time... Ben and Jed also gonna sIay in Legacies the writer said so next week’s episode gona be huge for them apparently I’m so ready... also Luis and Moritz from GZSZ gonna give us another sIay I feel... honestly don’t care about any other ship cause most of them giving blue hair vibes like they ruined Travis and Emmett in Station 19, Carlos and TK from 9-1-1: Lone Star I just stopped caring about like I’m sure there are many more gay storylines rn but I just do NOT give a single fawk actually they’re just simply boring to me I have nothing else to look forward to

[k0ra-kumori]

Jealous Batboys (DC Super Hero Girls 2019)

Hello, my name is Kora kumori and I'm Brazilian, so sorry if there are any grammatical errors in the story! (This story is based on dc super hero girls 2019)

word count ; 1602

pairings ; Batboys x reader

genre ; fluffy / Smut

warnings: contains adult content.

Dick Grayson

- You two were at a party, and there were two guys around you.

- my friend, he is very jealous.

- Dick may seem the most peaceful among his brothers, but don't be fooled.

- He will grab your waist tightly in front of the intruders.

- "Excuse me boys, I don't know if you know me but my name is Dick Grayson, I'm Bruce Wayne's son" Yes, that was a threat. It's almost as if dick wants to say "I'm very powerful, so don't mess with me or my girl."

- When he introduces himself, it usually keeps the intruders away, but this time not, this time the two men were not intimidated by the name "Dick Grayson" so dick moves on to the second stage.

- Dick whispers something in your ear and then gives you a kiss, then he leaves. You were confused.

- You were uncomfortable because the two men were still on your side, blocking your exit.

- Dick comes back after about 10 minutes, you wanted to hit him for taking so long.

- "You two are expelled." Dick said to the men, they were perplexed "You and bruce wayne run the city, not us. So why would we go out?", Dick gives a stupid smile "As you said, bruce wayne and I ran the city, and I bought it this club, and you are at my club in my town, so get out or i going to be forced to call the guards. "

- You were jaw-dropping and speechless, did he just buy a club so he could kick out the guys who flirted with you? Dick was really the most amazing guy in Gotham.

Jason Todd (18+)

- Okay, for Jason blood and jealousy mix very easily.

- You were in a bar, if dick saw that jason took you to a place like this, he would protest.

- You were there because the owner of the bar was none other than Artemis, so you could drink for free.

-Sometimes you forget that Jason is a vigilante, and unfortunately for him, there was a robbery across the street, Jason said he was going to solve it quickly and that he would be back soon, he kissed you goodbye.

"In the meantime, a man much older than you approached, and he was ... flirting with you?" That was disgusting.

- Jason has a sensor to know when they are flirting with you, because he showed up just in time.

- Jason took a glass of beer and drank, he hit the glass aggressively against the table when he finished.

- "Did you miss something in my girlfriend's breasts, you idiot?" Jason gripped his waist so tightly that it was scarred the next day.

- The man looked drunk, so he replied "Is this angel your girlfriend? You teenagers are idiots, you shouldn't be dating, so she should be dating an older guy--"

- That alone was enough to free the demon that Jason calls "rage" and it was all too fast, the man didn't even speak and Jason jumped on him, they were punching each other, kicking, everything to get hurt .

- You were so used to seeing Jason involved in bar fights that you didn't even care, in fact, you even like it when he gets involved in fights, because you know what happens after he finishes fighting.

- The fight lasted about 2 minutes, and as much as they tried, nobody could get Jason off the guy, and Artemis seemed more interested in cleaning cups than separating the fight.

- "I'll be right back, doll." Jason gave you a deep, hot kiss, very hot. He was angry and had just killed a drunk in front of everyone, he was dragging the man's body to the warehouse, you knew that in a few minutes he would have nothing but bones.

- Okay, he came back, and there he is, Jason todd all bloody, did you think it was weird that it took him less than 10 minutes, "Hey, but so fast?", Jason looked angrier than before, "He only had fat . " You were going to say something else, but Jason pulled your arm so fast that you didn't have time, you knew what happened when Jason got mad, and an angry and hungry jason resulted in things ... hot.

- he pulled you into the car, and threw you hard, you could already see the bulge between his legs, "Jason, yo--", Jason was horny, and was squeezing the steering wheel of the car, "I won't be able to wait until we get to the mansion, let's do it here.", " What?! We can't do it here, if a policeman catches us we'll be in trouble... "Jason shut you up with a kiss, he was now on top of you shirtless, showing his entire collection of scars, "I said we would do this here."

Tim Drake:

Tim is almost a robot, he feels emotions only inside, but shows nothing.

- You were in a coffee shop, Tim needed to finish a job.

- You were bored with watching him typing on his laptop, the coffe shop was empty and you could only hear the sound of the keys.

- "Coffee, can you get me another S / N?" You looked at Tim confusedly "You mean Y / N can you get me a coffee?", "That's what I said. Can you get it?" You were already getting worried about Tim, he hadn't slept for 3 days, it seems that being vigilant and a student is not easy.

- Well, you got up and went to get a coffee for your sleepy boyfriend for the 4th time, Tim like the biggest coffee, so you got the biggest one, and when you were going back to the table with Tim, a man unwittingly hits you, spilling all the coffee on your clothes.

- He seemed sorry, and apologized countless times, and somehow, those apologies turned into a conversation. You were enjoying chatting with your new best friend, until he asks "Do you have a boyfriend?", You loved Tim, and of course you replied that you did, and pointed to Tim.

- your friend wanted to forget that he asked this, so when you were going to talk again, "Hey Y / N." Tim came out of nowhere, the two of you jumped out of your seats, Tim had this Bizarre gift of being too silent.

- "Hi my love, let me introduce you to ..." Before you finished, tim completed his sentence, "Edward hanscom." Tim said coldly, "Yes! How did you know? I didn't even--" Tim interrupted you again, "I know a lot of things, and we better get going, I finished my job."

- "I-I think I'm leaving, Y / N, I'll see you the other day ..." Edward was about to walk out the door, when Dick came in, he was at work now (Officer) "Mr. Hanscom?" Edward nodded, "Y-yes it's me ...", "You're under arrest" and said, dick handcuffed edward and took him to the car to make sure he wouldn't run away, after doing that dick returned to the coffee shop.

- "Tim and S / N? How nice to see you here!", Tim just muttered something, and you waved happily at Dick, "I don't want to intrude but, why did you arrest him? I talked to him a few minutes ago." , "oh he? He was caught by cameras in a super market stealing food, I'm going to take him to the police station" you were worried about it, Edward didn't look like a criminal, so why was he being arrested?

- You thought for a moment and looked into the dick car, you found Jason inside. "D-dick, are you sure you are taking Edward to the police station? ...", "Certainly. Well, it was nice to talk to you but I better get back, I have work to do, see you soon, Tim and S / N! " Then he was gone, dick is gone.

- You left the coffee shop, you were going to the Wayne Mansion now "Edward was cool, it's a shame he is a criminal, and I'm not sure if Dick will take him to the police station I hope he will be fine ...", "he will be fine." You were a little uncomfortable with what happened a few minutes ago, so you took Tim's hand, "So, what were you working on, my little bird? You've been at it for two weeks" Tim looked at you "I was trying to locate a guy.", You were curious now, "A guy? You usually work with more important things than that, my love", Tim looked at you seriously" It was very important, that guy has spent 3 times looking at the butt of a guy's girlfriend, this is disrespectful.", you rolled your eyes, Tim gave too much detail, "Okay, so what was his name?", "Edward Hanscom."

- You were in shock, he spent 2 weeks locating that guy who came to flirted to you at the Coffee shop?!, "You idiot! Dick is going to give Edward as food for Jason!" You pushed Tim lightly, he was now laughing "Dick knows how to control that beast, besides, that Edward guy looked at your ass!", "You are an idiot Tim, you sent the guy to prison!" Tim now hugged you, "Relax, i will let him go tomorrow, that was just for him to learn not to look at the ass of others' girlfriend", you were silent, until you think of something to talk about "You know Tim, you can do it be bizarre and scary at the same time, but I love y--" for the thousandth time, Tim interrupted you "I love you too.", you started laughing now" You have to stop interrupting me! This is scary you silly!"

[genoc1d3r]

my turn to cry - thoughts on 3-1b

ok this has actually gotta be my favorite chapter cause holy shit so much stuff happened.

I played the Alice/kanna route and afterwards I watched a vod with the reko/shin route in which ranmaru and naomichi died before the banquet, so BIG SPOILER WARNING FOR BOTH ROUTES

Mafia Princess Sara??: Ok so first off, back in the beginning of 2020, I had a theory that Sara was a mafia heiress and that the death game was supposed to be something to “prepare” her. And that her memories were wiped or she was initially supposed to be kept blind to this whole thing (In 3-1a when everybody saw the consent form for the very first time everybody felt a sense of deja vu, except for Sara. Because why would they need her consent when she is the sole focus of the game and it’s all for her) This theory was mainly supplied by my confusion surrounding the hiring of Kai, cause why would mr Chidouin hire a former assassin to protect her?? How did he even know Kai??? But yeah, the whole thing with Shinobu Gokujo and deciding a new don through a death game just adds a lil more validity to this theory.

Sara’s real father: I also had a mini theory that Gashu Satou was her real father, but that was mostly cause of their hair color and how it would def make Sara’s hair color make more sense genetics-wise (but kai has black hair, so its most likely that his mother had black hair, which would also disprove this mini-theory but yk im not here to prove it just talk about it). And that Gashu knew of Mr. Chidouin and gave Sara to him, and it would also explain why mr Chidouin chose Kai of all people to look after her and why Kai could only watch her from a distance, in case she realized the truth that he was her brother/half-brother or something. 

GREENBLINGS CANON AAAAAAAA: I love this, I love this so much oh my god. Now I can replay and cry after 2-2 cause nankidai hates us :’). I dont have an issue with this specifically, I’m just a bit bothered by how the whole thing went. There was some buildup yea, and the cg with kanna, kugie, and shin was amazing. And that lil bit about nice hallucinations made me tear up a bit. But, then everybody kinda just moved on? and idk this whole chapter was a fuckign roller coaster I could barely keep up.

Autistic Gin <3: I’m autistic myself and I have seen many characters who are autistic-coded or exhibit many signs of autism but have never been straight up confirmed (Ex: Vera Misham from Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney). And even then, these characters usually share similar personality traits like being aloof and reserved. So it’s nice to see that Gin is representing autism in a relatively realistic manner with his hyperfixations, vocal tics, and issues with socializing. Even after nearly dying like 17 times he’s still doing well and I genuinely wish for his survival and happiness.

Ranmaru’s death: Both of Ranmaru’s deaths, (if you or if you don’t fail the electricity absorption minigame) the death feels so... off? I was really attached to him as a character, yet his death didn’t impact as much as Joe’s or Nao’s did. During his Banquet death, one second he had his really cute smiling sprite but then whoops oh no guys weird drill screw thing kills him (again). I still can barely comprehend it because it all just happened so fast. Like no cg or anything. I was honestly kinda disappointed. The “delayed” one does a better job at his death scene, but again, it was wayyy too quick and completely dismissed as everybody just moves on to defeat Maple 2.0. I at least would’ve appreciated a better transition than Midori just saying “well anyways–”

 Ranmaru’s extremely quick descent into madness in the shin route: I actually liked this idea of Ranmaru willing to go to such extremes for Sara. However, theres barely time for any of this to develop? Like again, everything just happens so fast??? I would've definitely liked if there were little hints around before the body discovery that ranmaru was gonna do something like this, just a little time for development would really be cool.

Mr. Policeman/Mr. Tazuna???: After I finished, I actually looked on the wiki to see if it said anything about his son that he mentioned and I found this: 

But yeah thats cool

The thing about Q-taro: I’m gonna say it now, I’ve liked Q-taro ever since the aftermath of 1-2, and Q-taro haters have added absolutely nothing to this fandom. Everybody saw him as a child-hater, I see him as a guy who’ll do anything to survive and succeed. I mean that wish is kinda what got him into the death game. And yeah he did try to leave that one time, but that’s what getting thrown into traumatic killing games does for you, most people don’t want to die, they want to live, no matter what it takes. We can’t all be the main character and choose to cooperate with everybody and be the “good” person in that situation. Even Sara has those extremely selfish moments and those intrusive thoughts of winning and leaving. 

This whole thing should also be applied to Ranmaru. Ranmaru has gone through so much shit in such a brief amount of time, to the point where he was considering to/actually kill people to escape with the one person he trusted in this hellhole. In that situation, Sara’s kinda at fault here, cause without Joe she’s lost her sense of morality which resulted in her becoming selfish and well... honestly kinda toxic. This emotional manipulation is really what set Ranmaru off, however it was 100% his decision to fucking kill somebody and murder’s bad. Still love him though.

But back to Qtaro, I really enjoyed the extra substance given to him in this chapter, it’s nice to see the development from being selfish to feeling deep remorse to protecting the dolls of the first trial victims, most notably Mai. As he completely forgives her for stabbing him. The chapter did a great job at fueling my already intense love for Q-taro (and it actually convinced my best friend who claims to hate Q-taro with every bone of her body to like him too!) I also love the father-son dynamic between him and Gin. I find this relationship to be really important cause Gin’s father is an abusive alcoholic and Q-taro’s an orphan who’s never had a proper role-model in his life. So it’s beautiful that despite not having anybody there for him when he was younger he can still be a good figure for another child.

Predictions/hopes for the next part: 

I just want to see whether Shin already knew about Kanna being his sister, and if he doesn’t I want a reveal. Right. Now.

A Ranmaru/Joe/Q-taro/Kai/ “Hinako” revival, p l e a se  they died so soon

More info about the people involved in the Hades Incident/Shinobu Gokujo

More info regarding Meister

Sara going on Maury

Who tf is “Hinako”????

I really hope that there isn't any specific good/bad ending. Like I want every ending to be equally bad and good yk? like equal consequences and good stuff.

Yo wtf happened to Sara’s mom?? Is she gonna come back and play a more important role in the story?? Are her parents gonna come back as floor masters???

I want things to actually change  depending on whether you picked Alice or reko, cause so far they’ve played extremely minor roles.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 34

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: panic attacks

NEXT CHAPTER

    - James Buchanan Barnes, you are under arrest for the alleged harassment and stalking of Miss Y/N Y/L/N. -  Bucky’s mouth went dry as he questioned if he’d heard that correctly. 

Harassment? Stalking? Bucky and Y/N had barely even had a full blown fight yet. The closest thing to fighting would be the bickering sometimes the two of them would playfully engage in and even that was very, very far away from fighting. 

   - Buck? - he heard her name echo from the bedroom as she made her way to him, stopping once she noticed the swarm of police at her door. Her hand instinctively went too hold his as this deep feeling of dread, settled in the pit of her stomach and she grew overprotective of the man standing next to her. 

    - Miss Y/N Y/L/N please step aside. - the policeman in front of her moved his hand but Y/N continued on Bucky’s side, almost pushing him behind her back as if she were strong enough to fight more than 50 policemen. 

    - What is this about?

    - Don’t worry, m’am. We have a team of psychologists and medical experts ready to help you. You are safe.

    - What are you talking about?  

    - Y/N, it’s fine. - Bucky moved towards the policeman, extending his arms out to them so they could cuff him, although it was quite useless considering at any time he could just break free from them. It was no use doing anything and if he allowed her to go on, she would only get herself in trouble and he didn’t want her to get int rouble. He didn’t want this to be a struggle, he didn’t want another fight. 

She stood there helpless to do anything as the moment they had him cuffed they immediately started to pull him away, away from her and she was frozen in her place, helpless to do anything as she watched the same government who had taken him away two weeks prior, take him away again as if he was some criminal. The buzz was back in her ear and she tried to follow him, follow them. She didn’t know, she would sit with him outside of prison she just ... she didn’t want them to be alone with him, she didn’t want him to leave yet as her feet started to move, she noticed one of the policemen was holding her, stopping her movements. 

   - GET OUT OF MY HOME! - she yelled out at him, managing to free herself somehow from his hold yet Bucky had already been taken downstairs. Maybe it was for the best, if he had seen someone hold her like that he probably would’ve lost whatever sanity he had left.

   - M’am, please. You need to come with us. We understand you’re distressed but we have a team of professionals waiting to help you.

   - Get. Out. - she punctuated the words with anger. - OUT! 

They stood there watching her as if she were a mad woman and maybe she was. Maybe she was mad but she knew she was not obligated in any way, shape, or form to follow them. She closed the door on their faces, moving around the flat to find things to barricade the door with, her first thought being they would try to snatch her again by breaking down the door. Once she found herself comfortable with the barricade she had built, she let herself slide down to the floor, looking around about what she could do. What could she do? Why couldn’t she think about what to do? Her hand fished through the contents of her bag, everything falling down onto the floor until she got hold of her phone. The beeping was too long, it seemed as if every second lasted a year and the buzz in her ears was getting louder and louder. She didn’t know what it was, but she knew it was loud, too loud. 

   - Beanie? - her father’s voice came from her phone. - Are you okay?

   - No. They arrested Bucky and I don’t know what to do, they didn’t told me why and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.

   - Okay, beanie. Just breathe, yeah? Does he have a lawyer?

   - No, dad, I don’t think he does. 

   - One of my friends still works in a New York firm. I could get him to represent James. Do you know where they took him?

   - No, they didn’t tell me anything. Dad, you need to help me, I don’t know what to do. - she let her head rest against her free hand, knees moving up to her chest.  

   - It’s alright, beanie. It’s gonna be okay, you are okay, where are you?

   - Bucky’s flat.

   - Okay, hold on, beanie. We’ll get this sorted, just stay there.

She turned off the phone, letting herself curl against the dresser which barricaded the door. He didn’t deserve this. He deserved to be free. What could she do? She needed to do something, discover a way to find where he was and go stay there with him. She needed to be there for him, she wanted to be there for him. The seconds seemed like hours and hours seemed like years which felt like decades, the buzz quickly returned loudly in her ears and she found herself feeling suffocated by those four walls. Only her, those four walls and her. 

    - Y/N, open up, it’s Steve Rogers. - the knock on her door subsided the buzz. She looked around her, quick on her feet as she started to push the dresser to the side. Soon her little barricade was gone and she opened the door. Steve, Sharon and Sam were all there, with worried looks on her face. - Bucky used his call to call me. Are you okay?

   - You need to do something, Steve. 

   - Y/N, calm down.

   - Tell me to calm down again and I will throw you off the window. - she pointed at him menacingly. - Someone has to go to wherever he is and be with him. He’s all alone. 

   - It’s fine. I’ll go, just stay here with Sam and Sharon?

   - Why should you be the one going?

   - Well ... uhm, I’m Captain America. - Sharon hit Steve in the arm as he finished that sentence. - What was that for?

   - Don’t get cocky. - she rolled her eyes. - Bucky’s arrested under the belief he’s the one who broke into your apartment and wrote those letters. They think it’s him because while he was on the mission there were no letters, it is him. Mission was a trap. At least that’s what Bucky thinks. 

    - It’s not Bucky. Seriously? 

    - If you go, there’s just gonna think you have Stockholm Syndrome or something. - Sharon sat down on the couch. - I know you wanna see him, Y/N but at this point, it’s best that Steve and his inflated ego go.

    - Does he have a lawyer? Should we get him a lawyer? Maybe some money for bail? - Sam suggested.

    - My father is contacting one of his old acquittances and he should be able to track where Bucky is. - Y/N rubbed her arms. - It’s not true, it’s not Bucky.

    - It’ll be fine. - Sharon pushed Y/N onto the couch before she could finish her 100th round around the flat. She wanted to go, she was his fiancee, she had to be there but she did understand what Sharon meant.

Stockholm Syndrome. 

For her to have Stockholm Syndrome he would’ve had to kidnap and hold her hostage first which he hadn’t done. This was just a stupid theory without any basis other than a stupid theory. Soon enough, the buzzing in her ears were done and the sounds coming from the TV show Sharon had put on to distract her were quickly overpowered by the buzz. She bite her lip, trying once again not to cry. She was always crying, it made her feel so weak, so helpless. She couldn’t help herself in her industry and she couldn’t help the man she loved. She was useless, as useless as one can be. She clasped her hands side to side, putting pressure on her thumbs as her chest started to feel a bit tighter.

   - Y/N, look at me. - Sam put himself in front of her, knees bending down to her level so they were face to face. - Can you count to ten for me?

   - What? - she moved her hand up to her chest, pinching the skin on her sternum. She hadn’t noticed what she was doing.

   - Count to ten. You don’t need to say it out loud, just think it and take a deep breathe between each number. Can you do that?

She nodded her head but found herself getting lost between the mental images of the numbers in her mind. It became too much and whatever feeble control she had over her own tears broke down as it dawned on her.

It was her fault.

It was her fault he had been arrested. It was because of her and under her name he had gotten arrested. It was her fault. If she hadn’t complained, if she hadn’t moved in, if she hadn’t said anything he’d still be here. It was her fault he’d been given that stupid trap mission. Looking back, she was the common denominator in every situation. Why was she crying? She needs to stop crying, she needs to stop crying. There’s no use crying about it.

  - Hey, it’s fine. You’re safe, ok? You’re safe, Bucky’s safe.  - Sam sat next to the two girls.

  - Yeah, he has a metal arm which can bend metal. Worse case scenario, he bends the jail open and walks straight out. - Sharon tried to lighten the mood. - You two can always move to an island with no extradition policy.

She forced herself to smile, feeling the painful stretch on her lips before the buzz returned, but this time her eyes were focused on the TV yet she couldn’t process what was happening. It was almost as if she were sleeping with her eyes opened, yet she was conscious of it. She’d rather be disconnected from it, stuck in a transe as he rushed through her mind to try and find something she could do for him. 

She snapped out of it as the door of her flat was opened. Steve and the lawyer walked in first and Bucky came behind them, head low as if he had done something wrong. He’d done nothing wrong.

  - Buck ... - she ignored whatever the lawyer and Steve had started to say to reach him. She wrapped her arms around him, tucking his head in the space between her neck and shoulder. She broke her embrace for a few moments, cupping his face to inspect if anything had happened to him. - Are you okay? Did they hurt you?

  - I’m fine, princess. Are you okay? 

  - It doesn’t matter. - she turned to Steve and the lawyer, whose name she didn’t even know. - What happened? 

  - Mr. Barnes is out on bail due to lack of evidence regarding the accusation. It’s mostly speculation but prosecutors are following with a case due to Mr. Barnes prior ... prior case. They’re planning their case and at this moment, I believe they will have a strong case. Even if they don’t, the jury will always be slightly biased. Everyone knows who the Winter Soldier was so ... the defence has to be strong.

Bucky sat down in the couch with Y/N by his side. He was tired, once again yet that did not matter at all. 

   - Most likely they will ask you to testify, Miss Y/N which we will have to rehearse. Whatever you say will be perceived by the jurors as something against Mr. Barnes. Say anything positive they’ll associate it with trauma bonding, say anything negative it’ll reinforce the idea he’s guilty.

  - But Bucky’s not guilty. I know he’s not guilty, he was the one who got the letter back in London, he wasn’t even in Soho when they broke into my apartment. He didn’t do it, it’s ridiculous. 

  - I know but it’s a ... delicate case due to previous history so we will have to prepare for it. I will give you my office’s address and you and Mr. Barnes can come meet me and we will strategise how to deal with depositions, testimonies and we will try and find some witnesses. 

  - Does she need to testify? - Sharon asked. - It sounds like she’s shooting the case in the foot. 

  - She doesn’t but the court might order it, specially considering they believe she’s under coercion from Mr. Barnes. I would be surprised if they tried to install a restraining order.

  - I don’t want to testify against Bucky. - Y/N sighed, returning to pull at the skin of her fingers. 

  - It’s fine. - Bucky took her hand in his. - It’s gonna be fine, princess. 

  - I don’t want to testify.

  - Well, she doesn’t have to. - Sam intervened. - I mean ... there’s always spousal privilege. 

  - Yes but Miss Y/N and Mr. Barnes are not married, therefore spousal privilege would not apply.

  - They’re engaged. - Steve blurted out, getting a dirty look from Bucky. - You’re already gonna be married so ... what’s the problem?

  - I have another case to get to today but I’ll see both you and Miss Y/N tomorrow in my office with my associates and we’ll build a strong defense.

Suddenly she wished she would’ve listened to her siblings and father argue. about their respective cases. At least she could’ve been of any use. It was going to be fine, right? How can someone build a case without evidence and only based on reputation? They can’t. Right? 

   - Well ... we don’t even need to go to city hall. We can get a marriage certificate and an officiant. Make it nice and away from the press.

   - No. - Bucky said, getting up from the couch and walking into the bedroom, closing the door quite harshly. 

   - What did I do? - Steve looked at Y/N, a confused expression on his face. 

   - I’ll check on Bucky. 

She wondered if he had regretted it. Any regular person would have regretted proposing to the reason why they had been arrested. Y/N opened the door of their bedroom, finding Bucky sat in the corner of the bed, head rest upon his hands. 

   - Bucky, are you okay? - she sat by his side. - Did they hurt you?

   - No, I’m fine. - he didn’t mean to sound as harsh as it did. 

   - I’m so sorry, Bucky. I ... I didn’t know, I didn’t think ...

   - Sorry about what? - he turned his head to look at her. 

   - Well, you’re upset and I’m the reason you went on that mission and that you got arrested so ... sorry is the least I can do. 

   - I’m not upset at you, princess. I’m upset at this situation. I’ve lived my whole life in a weird way and I thought I was going to get a normal wedding, at least.

   - James. - she leaned her chin on his shoulder. - You’re 106 and I’m 26, that already makes it an odd marriage. 

   - You know what I mean ... a wedding in a church with a dress and a suit and maybe not the NY Police blaming me of stalking and harassment. Isn’t that what you want? Traditional wedding? 

   - No.  - she hooked her finger under his chin. - I want to be married to you. We can get married in the middle of one of your missions for all I care. I’ve worn my fair share of wedding gowns and big gowns, acted several weddings scenes and been to several weddings.

  - So you want to have a shotgun wedding?

  - It’s not a shotgun wedding if I’m not pregnant, Bucky. 

  - We can do this, right?

  - Yeah. What evidence do they have? They don’t have any evidence.

  - So ... we’re getting married.

  - We’re getting married.

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[manchesterau]

my thoughts after reading my policeman: SPOILERSS of course!! (ignore spelling or grammar mistakes) (this is very ramble-y and not as in depth as it could have been sorrryyy lol, if you want specifics send me an ask after reading this)

okay...so i read the book in 3 days....which....im very proud of myself bc it takes me so long to finish books but that’s not why you are reading this.

im not going to lie to you...i liked the book. i love angst, and this had plenty of it and i liked it. if you like books such as: harry potter, six of crows, red queen, red white and royal blue you will not like this book. i know many people found it boring, which yeah i can see that, but i didn't find it boring at all. but mostly because i love boring books but that's beside the point. 

the book flowed easily, there isn't a bunch of raunchy sex scenes that ive seen people say it has (i...the things ive read idk what book they even read????) and Tom does has backward views on marriage and what it means to be a wife. but he is not overtly sexist or misogynist or abusive, or subvertly those things either. to be frank he's a scared gay man in the 50s trying to not get caught and thrown in jail. that's literally it. (ill go more into detail on him later). but if you want to read this book i recommend you go in knowing that there will be homophobia (the word queer is used as a slur....3 times or 4 but no more than 5), expect outing, expect not supportive characters, and remember to have some compassion (more on this later).

next i want to go into characters: starting with tom, then Marion, then Patrick, and then the other characters. so if you are planning on reading this book or just dont want to be spoiled them....don't read the next bit.

Tom:

I'm going to get this out of the way.........Tom (who we never get to know outside of the two-point of views we are presented with, and who is being played by Harry) is a police officer in the 50s UK. to be frank when the rumors first went around I was mad like a lot of people were, which is funny because when we got those pictures of harry reading the book before all the speculation we were....happy, that he was reading a book about a gay man. now...I don't care honestly. I could call out the hypocrites (i won't) and honestly I'm hypocritical myself. I use to watch shows like svu (if you were to turn it on right now I wouldn't turn it off) and I enjoyed watching svu. I know and have seen a lot of mutuals, people on my dash enjoy cop shows like b99, or who like actors who have played the character of police before. so it would be hypocritical of me to be mad at him (this is just my single black opinion) and then go and turn on svu (which I don't do anymore). 

I'm not saying that no one can be mad, I'm not saying that the anger people have at him playing this role is bad or not needed or valid. all I'm saying is.....is that I don't care. I got angry over this months ago, and all that anger I felt I don't have anymore, and I can't tell you why. Harry is playing an abusive demented husband who traps his wife in a simulation, and then he will play a gay policeman trying not to face persecution..........and that's that. nothing I can say will reach him, he's playing these roles and there is nothing I can do. will I watch them (pirating of course) yes.

anyways let's get back to tom's character (do not use my opinion to silence other black people I will find you....don't do that shit weirdo): tom is......tom?? like I literally was expecting the worst when I read this because of what other people had to say. but as I'm reading him through the eyes of Marion (his wife) and through the eyes of Patrick (his...true love, fuck the 50s I hate the 50s) one word came to mind constantly: scared. Tom is very scared that he will be found out and his life will be ruined. His family knows about him, which is why I think his father (more on him later) pushed him to be in the national service (where he was a cook, which disappointed him). you don't realize his family knows and then his sister says something and then you go 'wait....THEY KNEW???' and then you will go 'oh so that's why-' 

tom does have old fashion views that you would expect of any man at that time (gay or not it's the 50s and gay men are still capable of saying sexist shit). when asked by Patrick if women should still work after having a kid he said no it's the men's job to provide, Marion said she would like to keep working, he said no when they do have a baby (they literally never did, and idk why he thought he could be intimate with her for that long to produce a baby lol). that's....the most sexist thing he said in the whole book (there maybe some small things im forgetting but nothing that really stood out). that's it. I know it's not small and that was a legitimate issue in the 50s but yeah. Just in case you were apprehensive about Tom's character being a raging woman-hater, no,....he just wasn't a true feminist yet (???? I don't know that's like..the most this book says about an issue women were facing at this time). It's still bad what he said (you'll see how Marion justifies it in the book and both Patrick and her don't agree and try and challenge him on his view).

i dont want to go too in depth but it is very obvious from the beginning he has no and i mean ZEROOOO interest in her at all (you can tell when it hits him that he needs a wife and he starts to act a littleee different but it's not romantic at alll). 

i feel like my review on tom is shit but like!! we don't really get to know him without bias from Patrick and Marion. I think Harry will play a wonderful Tom (even tho he doesn't not fit the description for Tom...at all....like at alllll).

To summarize Tom: very scared gay man from the 50s who is trying to do everything he can to not be found out. his family knows, even he knew at a young age, and yes he does quit being a police officer but it doesn't happen as soon as id like but then again he wasn't one for that long if you pay attention to the years.

Marion:

😑 

i just...if yall could see the notes i made on her.....

To summarize Marion: SHE IS LIVING IN LALA LAND, TOM LITERALLY SHOWS HER NO ROMANTIC INTEREST AT ALLL, AND WHEN SHE METS PATRICK FOR THE FIRST TIME SHE FREAKING NOTICES THAT HE'S ALL BLUSH-Y AND SHIT LIKE...GIRL.....

this is a note i wrote that sums up her and tom's relationship (which is more like friends then anything romantic i mean god their honeymoon was horrible and he proposed to her....nvm 😑)

listen...i can't lie and say i didn't feel sorry for her up until the end when she (spoilers: she outs patrick to his employer which ends up with him getting arrested). after that...ive never hated a character more in my fucking LIFEEEE like oh my god i was pissed

all she does is have fantasies about him being romantic with her (holding hands, hugging, etc) and none of them come true...BECAUSE HES GAYYYYYY i really....the author could have done a better job because there were so many damn red flags.

she's fucking annoying and whiny and yeah it sucked to be a woman in the 50s but you literally outed someone your husband was in love with and thought that you could just go back to being married like he's not devastated and instead of telling what you did you stayed unhappy and made your husband thing that at any point they were coming for him too.......*****

Patrick:

PATRICKKKKK

Patrick and tom deserved a fighting fucking chance i hate the fuck 50s fuck you 50s!!!! I absolutely LOVEDDD his pov and seeing Tom through his pov like it was just so damn refreshing seeing the world through his eyes and how he navigates his queerness in the society they live in. (the dichotomy between a proud gay man and a scared maybe proud but fear overrules that (talking about Tom here) gay man).

There was a lot more to say on how gay men were being persecuted at this time than how women were treated in this particular book. There were some little things here and there about what was expected of Marion as a wife and of a girl/woman at that time but it wasn't the focus.

I loved seeing the way Patrick navigated through his world of art and creativity. And how Tom seemed to fit right in with him.

I hate the things the author made Patrick go through (outed, sent to prison, stripped of his job, and later on in the present day he has had 2 strokes in his 70s). it felt a bit much but it's not too distracting (Patricks pov takes place in the past as he writes in his journal). 

Patrick and Julia (more on her later) are my two favorites in the whole book (Tom is third bc he's a very multi-facted character, Marion is not even on the list) and I wish we got a lot more of Patrick's pov.

Other characters!! (speed round bc this is wayyy too long):

Syvlie (Tom's sister): SYVLIEEE IM MAD AT YOUU I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU WHYY WHYYY

Julia: JULIAAAAA QUEEENNN (you'll see why i love her at the end) 

Tom's parents: his father is abusive point-blank. or at least i think he's abusive (verbally). as im writing this i am now realizing that the way Tom's mom reacts to him (sometimes crying) is bc they knew he was gay omg wow.

tom's dad is very much a man's man guy?? Picture a sexist man from the 50s....now picture him with a gay son.....yeah, I'm not surprised Tom went into national service then to the police force. you can tell he didn't want anyone to find out about Tom so he pushed him to do what he thought best and Tom went with it, scared. 

overall: please do not go into this book expected things to be all flowers and rainbows...this is a book about two gay men in the 50s yall.....

there is something to be said about the tragedy that is in a lot of queer stories, I'm more interested in how white these stories are (that's a rant for another time). but I don't mind my policeman, and i think stories like this should be told. because this actually happened (here is a link to em forster's story where the author takes inspiration from, he really had an affair with a policeman!!! who had a wife!!!).

the ending is bittersweet, and i couldn't help but curse for what could have been. Marion could have not outed Patrick (which she instantly regretted), she could have gotten a divorce (she even contemplated it), they could have been more secretive, Julia could have not said what she said. I think Patrick and Tom were sadly doomed from the start, I just wish they had more time together because I loved seeing their love (the little glimpse we got) bloom into something bigger than them.

thank you for reading!! here are random screenshots of my notes as i read this lol enjoy!!

can’t*

[biggest-stupidhead]

Path Walker (Levi x OC)

Summary: Levi bites off more than he can chew by taking in a young street rat.

AN: I’ve been toying around with the POV of this series so around the 8th part the POV changes to third person, I am really lazy rn but when I get the motivation to I will come back and edit these parts to match, sorry if that bothers you! 

Word Count: 1.7K

I remembered feeling cold, laying in my usual alley I clutched onto the rag that I used as a blanket. I was only 9 years old, hungry and homeless, and now I was dying of disease. I was pitiful, balled up on the ground, laying in the mud. I vaguely recalled a boot tapping my hip, I flinched away, certain it was a Military Policeman.

"Oi, are you...alive?" the cold voice sent shivers through me, he sounded mean. I stayed still, my eyes wide with fear as I thought of the stories the other children had told me of men. The men in the underground took what they wanted. So I figured it was better if he thought me dead.

"I can see you breathing, what is your name?" he asked as he knelt down beside me. I allowed my head to turn and meet his eyes for the first time.

"Emory" I said, but it hurt to speak, my throat felt like it was made of razorblades and lined with gravel. The man raised an eyebrow at the sound of my frail voice.

"Where are your parents Emory? Is there somewhere I can take you to get taken care of?" the man pressed, I shook my head my eyes watering as I thought of how lonely I was. He sighed and stood back onto his feet, he rested his hands on his hips and looked back out onto the quiet street.

"I'll take you home with me, but once you're better you'll be back on your own." the man said, he stooped down and scooped me into his arms. I whimpered when he tossed the rag off of me with a look of disgust.

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

When I woke up I was in a bed, my hair was tied back off of my face, and a warm wash cloth was being pressed to my rosy cheeks. I licked my lips as I tried to sit up, a young girl pushed me down back into the stiff mattress.

"Don't try to move, just let me take care of you." she said, sounding a bit more aggressive than caring. I said nothing as she passed me a mug full of an earthy smelling liquid.

"It's tea, it'll make your throat better." she said as she held the mug to my lips. I opened my mouth and accepted the drink, my eyes widening as the flavor hit my tongue. She was right, even as the liquid went down my throat I already felt better. I sighed as I rolled over, I couldn't remember the last time I had felt this warm and cozy. I felt clean, my skin smooth rather than grimy, I was wearing an old but clean night gown, I smoothed my hands over the soft fabric in awe. The girl giggled and gently pushed me back into the pillow.

"If a grouchy man comes in don't be afraid of him, he just has a weird face." the girl said before getting up and taking out the tray of tea.

"What's your name?" I croaked, she paused by the door, her green eyes gleamed in the orange candlelight.

"Isabel." she said sweetly before exiting. When she opened the door I could make out the sounds of dishes clattering and a water pump being used. Odd, I must be in a nicer part of town for the home to have a pump. Usually multiple families had to share a water pump. I strained to hear the conversation through the door, I could at least make out 3 separate voices, one I recognized as Isabel, and another as the man who had collected me. The third voice spoke little but when he did it sent chills down my spine. Finally the pump stopped, and I could hear what they were saying.

"We can't keep her Farlan, she's just another snot nosed brat, if we go around picking up every kid we see we might as well open an orphanage." the voice hissed, silence followed his words and I cowered back into the pillow, pulling the blanket up so I could hide my face.

"Not fair Levi, I'm sure she can be of some use to us! Plus she's rather cute." Isabel said, followed by the sound of footsteps on the old wooden floor.

"I don't care what the brat looks like, we can barely feed ourselves no need for another mouth to feed." the third voice, Levi snarled. The room fell silent and I felt ice run through my veins.

"At least go look at her before you tell us we can't keep her, say it to her face that you don't want her." Farlan, the man who I presumed had initially brought me here said, matching Levi's venomous tone.

"Fine." Levi scoffed, I heard the sound of approaching footsteps and burrowed deeper into the covers. My heart raced when the door slowly creaked open, light spilling into the dim room.

"Oi, come out of there." his voice was close, definitely standing off to my left. I flinched when I felt his hand close around the blanket and pull it off of me. I yelped and snatched the corner before he could pull it away from my grasp.

"F-fuck off!" I squeaked, something that I had picked up off the streets, not that I knew what the words meant but other than to leave me alone. His eyes widened a fraction when I spoke, one of his thin eyebrows arching as he took in my appearance. I barely registered the sounds of muffled laughter as Farlan and Isabel chuckled in the doorway.

"Where did you learn to talk like that?" Levi asked incredulously, I shuffled backwards on the bed to put some space between us.

"It's what people tell me when I get too close to them." I admitted, whenever I would approach adults and sometimes older children they would use those words. Levi scoffed and sat down in the chair Isabel had occupied earlier.

"You shouldn't talk like that." he said, a frown etched deeply into his delicate features. I furrowed my brows, I had never had anyone tell me what I should and shouldn't do, I had grown up an orphan, only vague memories of my parents.

"You're not my dad." I said a wave of emotion overcoming me.

"No I'm not, and that's why you can't stay here, you don't belong with us." he said coldly, he stood and brushed past the pair in the doorway, who stood in shock as you watched him disappear. Isabel rushed into the room and sat on the bed, a sympathetic look on her childish face.

"I- He- I'm sure he doesn't mean those things, he can be a bit... shy when meeting new people." she said as I looked up at her expectantly.

"He does have a weird face." was all I said as she struggled to excuse Levi's harsh words. Farlan snorted and sat down in the chair next to the bed, his blue eyes turning soft when he took in my thin wrists.

"I'm sure he'll come to tolerate you." Farlan said, placing a hand on my back, he grimaced when he felt the ridges of my spine through Isabel's nightgown.

"Man kid do you want something to eat?" he joked despite the sick feeling that blossomed in his gut. I nodded and leaned into his touch subconsciously, he smiled and stood to go get me something while Isabel crawled under the covers with me.

"How did you end up all alone?" she asked as I settled into her side, my head resting on her chest.

"I dunno." I said, too focused on her heartbeat to listen to her question.

"Are your parents not around?" she pressed, I shrugged.

"Can't remember." I sighed as I nuzzled into her. She inhaled sharply when I let out a little sigh.

"Emory, please tell me what you know so I can help you." she said gently, craning her neck to get a glimpse of me.

"I don't know who my parents are, or where I came from, just that I'm here." I shrugged, breathing in Isabel's lavender scent. She tensed at my words and gently placed a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry... how long have you been alone?" she asked quietly.

"Since forever." I said. Before Isabel could say anything else, Farlan returned holding a small loaf of bread.

"Here, I don't want to give you anything heavy incase you barf, that would be a waste." he chuckled as he handed me the bread.

"Oi you better not be feeding that brat in my bed, she'll get crumbs everywhere." Levi raised his voice slightly to berate you from the other room. Farlan smiled and pushed the bread into my hands, Isabel sat up and pulled me along with her. I bit into the bread not surprised to find it a bit stale. Farlan sat down on the end of the bed and watched me wolf down the bread.

"Slow down little girl!" he laughed as he watched me finish off the bread and wipe my mouth.

"That was good, thank you." I said before nestling back into Isabel. Farlan smiled, already feeling attached to the spirited girl.

"How old are you Emory?" Farlan asked, leaning forwards on the bed to get a peek at my face.

"Uh... I think I'm 9?" I said my face screwing up in frustration as I thought about my age.

"You think?" Farlan asked, raising an eyebrow and letting a smirk crawl onto his lips.

"Yeah, I'm not so sure but my friends are 9 so that must mean I'm 9 too." I said, quickly tiring of all these questions. Farlan laughed again, Isabel swatted him in the shoulder, jostling me as she sat up.

"Quit laughing at her she can't help it!" Isabel scolded. Farlan stuttered out a feeble apology as he struggled to stop laughing. But by the time he managed to apologize I was already slipping into the best sleep I would ever have. Isabel shushed him as she pulled me closer and rolled us onto our sides.

"I'm sure he'll warm up to her, how can he not? She's damn funny." Farlan said as he watched Isabel hold me close. She nodded in agreement as she brushed her fingers through my golden locks. I sighed in my sleep, feeling safe for the first time in my short life.

I miss them.

[saladejin]

Lost & Found | Jimin (M)

Jimin x Fem!Reader | s2f2l au, (ex)-policeman!Jimin, vetnurse!Reader | fluff, meet-cute, (emphasis on) hurt/comfort, angst and heavy angst, found families, slight humour, mentions of other members

Summary: You’ve essentially spent your whole life working around dogs, through sickness and through health, but one memorable encounter at the park has you thinking ‘why not one more?’ 

Or, maybe it’s not the dog that needs help, but rather the beautiful yet reserved man with honey blonde hair at his side. Perhaps, rather than dogs and cats, you need to start learning how to heal people. Maybe then you can start to heal yourself too.

Warnings: tw // (mental health, descriptions of death - no major, descriptions of abandonment - not by main characters, absent parents) // Descriptions of traumatic experiences, mental health issues/struggles (depression, anxiety), minor character death, hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns / resolved breakdowns. Only the tiniest, vaguest references to suicide - basically nothing.

- semi non-descriptive smut, fooling around in the pool, kissing, touching, fucking ... plenty of cussing lol

Word Count: 18.6k (hahahha kill me) 

A/N: Okay so here is my entry for the Ghostie Network’s ‘Dynamite Dads’ event, and it’s a bit late oops! I wasn’t really feeling up to write Jimin as a dad with an actual human baby, but I did the next best thing and gave him a gorgeous pupper who he basically treats as his own child ... enjoy :)

The genre was FLUFF, and my trope was ‘found family’. I promise you there is definitely some fluff to pay off for the angst. I feel ok saying it’s nothing too extreme, 🥺 but please heed the warnings and don’t hate me too much for the pain hehe

There will be a sequel, so this will most likely end up being a two-shot. You’ll see what I mean :) 

<< masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵  

Jimin knows from the very moment he opens his eyes to the sound of 6 a.m. birdsong, that today would be it. His last day.

He drags himself from bed, all fluffed up hair and puffy eyes, shrugging on the same dark navy uniform he’s worn for the past five years. He blinks away the sleep clutching at his eyelids, trying his best to prevent the flashing colours behind them from focusing into memories. 

Perhaps they were a lingering dream, flooded with the distant sounds of wailing sirens and a snarling canine, but thankfully they vanish with one brisk shake of his head.  

Snarling swiftly changes into a gentle whine, and Jimin raises his head with a troubled sigh to see Mandu sniffing by his bedroom door. His best friend, his companion, and most of all his boy. Jimin’s cheeks lift in a small smile, and the dog with a pelt of rich fawn brightens instantly, tail thumping the wall in innocent glee at seeing his handler’s eyes shine.

“Morning, bud.” 

Not two hours later, Jimin’s sitting just outside the chief’s office. He waits with downcast eyes, fiddling with his fingers to ward away the nerves and anxiety causing his heartbeat to pick up speed. 

He knows how it looks; he knows that everyone there can see through him and his firm expression. He’s never been good at hiding emotions very well, despite society’s expectation that anyone working in the law enforcement sphere should. No, not him, and that’s exactly why he has to leave it all behind.

“Officer Park…”

The chief’s eyes are not upset, angry or surprised by the news, but rather concerned. Jimin swallows his guilt down heavily, knowing full well that he has every right to do what he’s doing. He fights the urge to comb his fingers through his soft honey blonde hair, or the instinctual need to scratch at his own neck from the sheer distress of it all.

“Park, is it because of yesterday?”

That simple phrase was all it took to send him reeling back.

Flashing colours and background noise burst into focus, and Jimin suddenly finds himself reliving everything. Heavy well-worn boots thudding against the road slick with fresh rain, the sound of shrieking sirens all around, piercing his eardrums like knives. His lungs constricting, burning, with need for air as he follows Mandu into the darkness of the alley.

“Jung! Jung, where-”

Jimin can barely hear himself think above the clatter, the vicious snarling and gnashing of teeth against flesh being the only sound keeping him grounded. He has a job to do, and he’ll see it through to the end even if it costs him his life. He cocks his pistol and carefully peers around the corner of the dimly lit alleyway, hoping that the pathetic cries of the criminal under attack means that the coast is somewhat clear.

Anxiety bubbles up in his chest, for his partner and his boy, but he knows he can’t let his worry for them cloud his judgement now, of all times.

“Drop your weapon now!” he shouts above the noise, rounding the corner to apprehend the man currently locked into a bloody fight with his K-9 counterpart, desperately kicking and shoving to try and escape the ferociously snapping jaw knocking him down.

To Jimin’s relief, the weapon in question had been thrown down with a clatter amidst the man’s struggle, the gun still rotating slightly in its place from the force of its projection.

Then his bones freeze up when he watches the shiny object come to rest by a steel-capped boot, a boot so familiar to his eyes because it’s the exact same one he wears.

It’s Jung. Slumped against the wall, unmoving, unseeing … blood pools everywhere around him, and the iron-tinged smell hits Jimin right in the face until he can barely stand to breathe. “H-Hoseok, no…”

Mandu’s growls bring him crashing down to Earth, and Jimin’s pulled the trigger before he can even think twice about his actions. In the back of his mind, he knows he’s trained unconditionally to aim for non-fatal points on the human body, but right then and there, through the crimson haze of his fury, he wished he’d been able to do it.

Avenge him.

“Park…”

“Officer Park? Are you with me?”

Jimin gasps lightly, blinking his eyes to chase away the all-too-fresh memory from his mind yet again. His bottom lip is clamped so hard between his teeth, he wonders if the iron taste of blood in his mouth had actually been more than imagination. The superior officer sat at the desk in front of him nods solemnly.

“Park Jimin, I understand completely. I can’t stop you…”

The chief’s voice fades into the background as Jimin lets his thoughts wander once more, but he soon feels the darkness eating away at him again. The inner demons, the pain and suffering, because everyone leaves you, Jimin. The cycle repeats, you let yourself love then you let yourself lose.

“The … adoption of ‘Mandu’ as you’ve stated here, has already been finalised. We’re glad to see a long serving canine of our force retire to a responsible home. Thank you, Park.”

“Of course, Chief.”

The older man sighs and gives Jimin a once-over, clearly recognising that the man before him needs time to heal, however long that may be. Jimin feels it too, deep within his heart, his mind, and his very soul. This was it. He could finally hide. He could finally stop inflicting all this pain on himself and push it back to the deepest corners of his mind, where it would remain untouched.

“We thank you for your service, please hand in your badge and equipment by the end of the week.”

  ~ three months later ~

 “That’s it for the day!”

Muscles aching and eyes watering from a yawn, you peel the stretchy gloves from your hands with a grimace. The sweaty feeling lingers on your skin long after throwing the disgusting things in the trash. It’s only after you shed your nurse scrubs and lanyard that you remember you aren’t quite ready to finish up.

“(Y/n), you just have to take Jessie out for a bit before you go,” your colleague calls, much to your chagrin at the reminder. It’s been a long day at the veterinary clinic, and even if vet nursing wasn’t quite as strenuous of a job as legitimate veterinarian work, it still sapped a decent amount of energy.

God, you just want nothing more than to go home to your warm bed, and your fluffball cat. Instead, you pack away your uniform and grab a leash to prepare for the walk.

“C’mon girl,” you coo gently to the old border collie resting in her cage. There was an immense pride in the way the clinic took care of its sick and injured animals, and that included exercising the dogs every single day without fail. You absolutely loved it, loved your job and everything it entailed.

Ten minutes later, you’re letting the gate to the local park click shut behind you.

The dog park is remarkably busy today, you muse after letting Jessie off her leash for a run. Inside the spacious area – fenced off nicely with grasses delightfully green from the Spring air – are dogs and puppies of various shapes, sizes and colours bounding around each-other like ping pong balls.

You can’t suppress a snort of amusement as a particularly handsome pooch catches your eye, something akin to a German Shepherd though not quite as large. Your eyes follow the energetic bundle of energy as he darts around the group of dogs, chasing them and nipping at their heels to keep them controlled, just how he likes it.

It was inevitable that Jessie would soon join in, and you can only let out knowing sigh at the sight of the beautiful collie’s eyes lighting up with that familiar fire; a flame that had remained dormant for many, many years within her ageing mind. She takes off and rounds up the strays of the flock, arthritis in her joints long forgotten as her instincts to chase and collect take over entirely.

“Mandu, why…”

A breathy sigh escapes the person standing barely a metre away from where you sit on the park bench, and you finally take a moment to observe the other dog owners milling around this sector of the park. Their eyes are wide in confusion as they witness the spectacle happening before them, but you’re brought back to the man closest to you as he lets out another disappointed click of his tongue.

“It’s normal with herding breeds,” you find yourself saying through a fond smile, though your socially awkward inner self wants to kick you in the ass for it. The man, who looks as though he’d been about to jump in to collect his zippy companion, falters in his motion to regard you in surprise.

“Yeah, uh, it’s just been a while since my boy’s done it.” He rubs at his neck self-consciously, eyes glancing around to see if anyone’s thrown him a dirty or judgemental look already. From your place on the wooden seat, you can easily catch the way the sunlight caresses the man’s unique features, the worn-out sneakers and running wear telling you that he comes this way often to exercise.

He clears his throat. “You…”

As he trails off, somehow losing confidence halfway through his sentence, you feel that familiar pang of embarrassment that comes with talking to strangers. “Mine’s the collie, so I know I should probably step in too.” You laugh quietly, instantly breaking eye-contact when he holds your stare for a second too long.

He was stunning, to say the least, with incredibly soft looking caramel hair swept back from his face, and pillowy looking lips that were large, but fitting when placed together with his smooth sloping cheekbones and an elegant jawline. His eyes, though, were tired. They were so tired, and you knew exactly what it felt like to leave home every day when you were … that emotionally exhausted.

At your comment, the man breaks into a grin, because well … you’re in the same boat here. He’s probably relieved that you hadn’t lectured him on dog behaviour or keeping his pet in check, or something like that. Nope, turns out you were just as liberal as he was.  

You get to your feet, trying to inwardly shake the tingling in your chest from the sight of his lips curling into a smile alone, and jostle the leash in your hand to try and get your playful lady’s attention.

When that didn’t work, you let out a loud whistle and hope that the slight burning sensation travelling up the back of your neck would fade away soon. Although, you knew that as long as the curious man kept his eyes trained on you, it would persist. “Jessie, here girl.”

The beautiful stranger follows suit, but to your shock he barely has to make any noise, just a simple gesture and briskly spoken word before his responsive dog is sitting to attention at his feet. Ears pricked and warm canine eyes focusing on his owner as if nothing else in the world would ever matter as much as he did in that moment. You quickly look up to catch a glimpse of the man’s face once more, and the love now swimming in his gaze as he ruffles the dog’s pointy ears was nothing short of breathtaking.

You should go now.

You utter a tiny ‘bye’ as you take your leave, not even sure that the captivating man is able to hear you over the way he’s currently trying to scold his tawny-furred dog in a soft, gentle tone. A stern voice that still made it obvious just how endeared he was behind the annoyed façade.

You glance down to where Jess pads quietly on the pavement beside you, her black and white wavy pelt somewhat tousled from the exertion and her tongue lolling out in pure elation after stretching her legs. Sunlight, a blinding smile, caramel blonde hair…

How were you supposed to think of anything else now?

~

Three days pass, and you’re back in the clinic. Work is piling up, and you’re basically booked out thanks to a spontaneous outbreak of ‘Kennel Cough’ throughout nearby shelters. How the infectious disease spread to not one, but two localised areas, nobody knew.

“Someone must have taken their dog to all of them, or maybe had it transferred mid-vacation,” you growl to Dr. Kim, lining the antibiotics up on the med table after checking the clipboard thoroughly. Healthy vaccinated dogs would be fine, perhaps a tad sickly for a week or two, but puppies and those with immune deficiencies? Out of luck unfortunately.

“I’ve scheduled the radiographs for the most affected,” Dr. Kim informs, and you’re in a right mind to believe he’s only trying to reassure you right now. He sighs and flashes you a weary smile, age-lines prominent around his kind features thanks to the recent months of stress. “Hopefully we can rule out any pneumonia. You’re free to go on break by the way, Nurse (L/n).”

At the word ‘break’, you feel dread crash through your body like a heavy wave. Shit, had you forgotten to bring lunch today? A wishful image floats through your head of the delicately tossed Greek salad you’d prepared the night before, only problem being that it was still wrapped neatly in the fridge at home.

“Damn it,” you mutter, planting a forced smile on your face when the older doctor eyes you worriedly at the soft outburst. “Sorry, I’ll need to head out today.”

You can’t stop internally punching yourself for being forgetful, knowing that it’ll cost you precious time to walk to the nearest eateries and back. Perhaps if you owned a car, you’d be able to savour those few extra minutes of relaxing during your break.

Nope, it’s walking for you now. Idiot.

So off you go. The route is pleasantly quiet for the most part, with the sun slowly beginning to warm the leaves on trees as they protect their newly forming flower buds. There’s the incessant yet melodic chirping of birds while they scourge the nearby plants for food, either for themselves or their young. It was easy to stop and appreciate the various signs of revival and rebirth around you, but maybe not today.

Today, you had too much to worry about and too much weighing you down. There were so many helpless animal lives that were going to be lost, all because of one person and their ignorance. You had to come to terms with death fairly quickly when entering this line of work, but that didn’t make it any easier as time passed by.

Especially for someone like you.

You come to a sudden stop and blink your eyes firmly. The painted sign that blocks your path display the words ‘DOG PARK’ in all capitals, and it throws you off guard completely. You’d … somehow taken this heavy of a detour? Well, you suppose it could be worse, and the park did have another entrance on the far side you can use to somehow shortcut your way into town, but you can’t shake your confusion until ah.

There he is. The dog park guy, standing slightly off the well-trodden path. He’s dressed in a casual grey tee shirt and comfy matte black shorts this time, effortlessly showing off the defined muscles of his calves as he bends down to retrieve a bright green frisbee. He then flings it so high into the air, you doubt even his wonderfully enthusiastic dog will be able to catch up to it.

But when the well-built canine does in fact manage to clamp his teeth down on the airborne toy, you only manage to pick your jaw up off the floor after a handful of shellshocked moments. Some special kind of training had become evident in the way the animal springs off its hind legs with such intensity.

Right, you should stop staring like a maniac and keep walking.

At this rate, you’re going to be late back to work, and with the sheer number of things left to do and problems to solve with the shelters and kennels, you know that’s not an option. Hell, you’re so swallowed by your anxiety that you break out into a slow jog to make it at least halfway through the dog park in time.

Don’t look at him, don’t.

You glance at the man as you pass him, hoping to dear God that he’s focusing on his dog rather than the strange pet-less woman running through the park meant for pets, wearing dark forest-green scrubs underneath her jacket because she was too stupid to remember her food for the day. But alas, he is looking at you too.

It’s a weird kind of energy you can’t place, as if some kind of invisible force is trying to slow your feet down. The air thickens in resistance, and it’s like you’re barging through it to continue forward on your path. Everything in your body screams at you to stop, to talk to him, to say ‘hello’ with a smile because he deserves to have his own friendly one returned in some way. Oh wow, he’s actually looking at you, isn’t he?

The thing is, in situations like this you get nervous. You and attractive guys? Not quite the match made in heaven you’d probably expect. He flashes you that smile, all pearly whites to accompany the recognition from yesterday glittering in his startled gaze, but all you can manage is a strained grimace-like grin in return with a tiny wave of your sweaty palm.

Great. Fucking great.

At least you’re already gone before you can wallow in the humiliation; before you can simmer in it like a fine stew. He’s probably forgotten you already anyway, but you can’t help looking over your shoulder to check regardless.

Checkmate, he’s watching you go. The smile is now amused, and his head is cocked cutely to the side in playful confusion. As his dog jumps all over him to try and win back his attention, you flip the hoodie of your jacket up and try to ward off the embarrassed onslaught of laughter that bubbles in your chest. It would take more than a few days to wipe the image of his crescent moon shaped eyes from your memory this time around.

~

Jimin wakes to a wet and uncomfortable sensation prodding his face, and if he didn’t already have an innate sense for his favourite living being in the whole world, he’d be on his feet and ready to fight in no time at all.

“Mandu you gotta let me sleep,” he groans out, voice deep and groggy from his slumber. A persistent whine dragging from the throat of the animal rouses Jimin further, and he slides up to rest back on his elbows, eyes squeezing shut and skin covered in the slightest sheen of sweat from how hot it’d been under the bedcovers.

His dry lips part in a yawn. “Fine, you hungry?”

Mandu pokes his snout into Jimin’s cheek once more, big gentle brown eyes urging him to get up and start his day. Jimin knows that without his best friend with him, he’d barely have any motivation to step foot outside his room, let alone head out for a run each day consecutively.

It helps that his buddy looks out for him as diligently and as loyally as he had back when they were in the force together. It’s like nothing ever changed, and in the back of Jimin’s mind, he knows that the sense of routine had most likely saved his life time and time again.

“Alright,” he grunts loudly, lips curving into a smirk as he cups Mandu’s furry face into his palms, squishing the doggy cheeks he finds there together until the dog squirms in his spot on the bed. It’s not until Mandu lets out a frustrated yet playful growl that Jimin leaves him be with one last ruffle of his dark pointed ears.

Yeah, he really was fucked without his boy reminding him to eat, walk and sleep every day. Jimin knew it was pathetic, and he’d never felt so useless in his whole life, but it was enough to get him through for now.

Jimin scratches at his bare chest, freezing on his amble towards the kitchen when he spots something. Mandu stops along with him, his nails click on the floorboards in impatience but Jimin’s eyes are intensely locked onto the photo frame perched on the living room cabinet.

Idiot, of course there was one left.

He slams the frame down, making sure he can’t see the two laughing faces for a second longer than needed. He realises with a frown that he probably forgot to remove it due to barely ever setting foot in the living room as it was. Up until now, for the last five years, he’d spent most of his time at the station or out on the field. Patrolling, tracking … even apprehending, but that simply meant areas of his home went essentially unused for months on end.

Things were changing…

“Hey bud, what’s for breakfast?” he hums to his pal softly, finding a small happiness in the way Mandu circles around his legs like a bothered child. He assumes that if the dog were human, he’d be sporting the mightiest of pouts right about now.

Ten minutes later, Jimin finds himself nose deep in a bowl of flavourless cereal. On any other ordinary day, he and Mandu would usually race to see who could finish their meal the speediest, but he’s not feeling it this time around. The fawn coloured dog seems to give him a judgemental stare, as if saying ‘what’s wrong with you, did you let me win!?’ to which Jimin looks down at him and lets a breathy laugh fall from his lips.

“Not everything’s a competition boy, grow up already.”

Mandu simply huffs and moves to lay down, resting his muzzle on his front paws in defeat.

“How dare you roll your eyes at me.”

A dismissive sniff in response. Jimin finishes his meal with a shake of his head, knowing that if anyone were to ever hear the way he spoke to his pet dog, he’d most likely get shipped off to the nearest mental institution available. The sudden dark thought earns a surprised raise of his brows, but as he rinses his bowl off in the sink, he knows he has nothing to worry about.

It’s only him and Mandu now, and nobody else mattered. Nobody else was allowed to matter.

Yet Jimin’s always one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Even if he tries the hardest he can to shut the world out, he’s continuously drawn to people. Drawn to seek company and validation, drawn to love others with his whole heart unconditionally. He could have it all, but all the world does is take from him.

He sighs and sits back at the kitchen countertop, head resting on his folded arms much like the sassy child sprawled underneath the stool right now. “Do you think we’ll see the pretty lady from the park again today?”

The dog’s ear twitches, then flicks as if bothered by an irritating bug of some description. Jimin doesn’t know how to take that, really. Was it a no? Did Mandu even want to see her as much as he did? He supposes not, considering the ex-police dog was trained to be protective, and was instinctively so in every possible way.

He belongs to Jimin, and apparently that means Jimin belongs to him too, no friends allowed. Something in the back of his mind shouts that he shouldn’t be wanting friends anyway, that they were something to be afraid of.

“Whatever.”

It was the next day when things turned sour. To Jimin’s slight disappointment, they hadn’t seen the pretty lady in strange green attire again, but something did go horribly wrong instead.

Jimin exits the bathroom with a snowy white towel draped over his head, hoping that somehow his laziness will be overlooked for once and the towel will simply dry his hair for him with no additional effort, only for the fabric to fall from his head once he catches sight of Mandu walking down the hallway. Only he’s not walking, but rather limping.

“Buddy c’mere,” Jimin calls, voice pitching higher than usual in concern. With fear and cold hard dread settling deep into the pit of his stomach, Jimin observes the dog instantly perking up at the sound of his voice.

Mandu lets out a small yelp of excitement, but still has a stiffness and slight limp to his gait when he makes his way over. Jimin crouches down and pets the canine fondly, the sinking of his heart telling him that his suspicions were right all along.

Something is wrong here. He has to know what’s up, has to make sure his boy’s alright.

Jimin’s bundled the both of them into the car before he can stop to even think straight, and Mandu is nothing but a ball of excitement – bouncing around and goofily grinning the entire time. It hurts to think he’s fooling the dog into believing they’re going on some sort of spontaneous adventure, but that wouldn’t be entirely wrong. It’s only around noon so the local vet clinic has to be open, right?

He’s not dying, you really need to chill out.

Jimin knows his inner voice speaks the truth, but he continues to justify his frantic driving with a carefully crafted self-assurance. He’s only making sure, he’s simply worried for his baby.

He doesn’t stop to think about the way his hair is still unpleasantly damp from the shower, having forgotten to actually dry it beforehand, or the way his socks had somehow ended up being odd colours. He hastily finds a park outside the clinic and attaches his leash to Mandu’s collar.

What Jimin doesn’t expect to see, when striding through the administration doors with the dog in his arms, is you.

Your expression matches his own look of astonishment, your beautiful eyes widening in recognition in the exact same split-second his do. If Jimin was being honest with himself, he could probably just stand there looking at you for the next thirty minutes or so, but a miniscule wriggle from the animal in his hold brings him crashing back down to Earth.

“Um, hi,” he begins awkwardly, paces enormous as he lurches towards the desk you’re bracing your hands upon, still recovering from the shock of seeing him again it seemed. “I have a problem…”

You clear your throat and try not to smile at the amusing sight before you. Jimin knows it can’t be the strangest thing you’ve ever seen here, but the openly scared and confused dog clutched to his chest is enough to make you bite your lip in an effort to restrain yourself.

“I can see that. Luckily, we’ve got nobody in queue so you can jump right out back with me,” you say with a kind lilt to your tone that Jimin can tell is part of the customer service sector of your job description. He doesn’t really mind, nor does he even care. Right now, his only concern is Mandu.

No pretty lady in green scrubs is going to distract him from his best bud right now.

Fifteen minutes pass, and Jimin is worrying the skin of his bottom lip with his teeth. His wide troubled eyes trail over every movement you make as you examine the incredibly stiff and uncomfortable dog on the sterilised table. When Jimin meets Mandu’s startled gaze, he tries his best to calm his best friend down in a familiar gentle tone he would use at home.

“It’s okay buddy, you’ll be alright. Good boy…”

If you’re irritated or weirded out by his vocalisations, you don’t show it. Your mind seems to be too wrapped up in gently working your fingertips into the back haunches of the dog, massaging in slow circles. Jimin’s drawn in by the way you handle Mandu with such care and precision, and he begins thinking that if you were to do that to him, he’d probably be relaxing in no time.

Weird thoughts, but whatever, I guess.

The same can’t be said for the dog, though, and Jimin can only pick up the intensity of his soothing praises once he catches sight of Mandu trembling in fear on the table. The dog’s elbows seem to want to buckle under the stress of the situation, and it breaks Jimin’s heart to pieces to see his pal all worked up like this. It’s lucky that the animal has been trained well enough to trust in his handler’s presence alone, otherwise this whole examination might’ve taken a … darker and more vicious turn.

“Do you know what’s wrong?” he asks you quickly, voice high and strained as he reaches forward to scratch behind one of the dog’s ears in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. Mandu licks his palm in return, and usually Jimin would recoil and protest loudly, but today he was fairly sure he’d let his boy get away with anything.

You sigh softly, and Jimin doesn’t know what that means at first, but then you peel the gloves from your hands and flash him a small smile. Everything starts to feel okay somehow. “You see, Sir, this is quite commonly seen in specific breeds of dog, including your German-”

“Belgian Malinois.” The correction is out before he can hold it back, and Jimin wants to slap himself for how snappy and rude it sounds, but you don’t take offense in the slightest. Instead, he’s stunned once more when you click your fingers with a light gasp of realisation.

“That’s what it is! I was trying to remember the name of this breed for days on end, after the first time I saw him in the park.”

Jimin raises his brows at that, feeling the last of his anxiety melt from his bones at the sight of your smile, which was slowly beginning to familiarise itself to him.

“Ah, well you could’ve asked me. I would’ve told you in a heartbeat.” He chuckles, though it’s somewhat dry from the raw emotions still running their course through his brain. When you let out a soft laugh in return, he forces himself to tear his eyes away.

“Oh well, anyway you can calm down a bit, there’s nothing life threatening going on here just yet,” you assure in a calming tone, and Jimin can easily sense how there’s more sincerity behind the sound compared to the voice you’d used earlier when greeting him.

“There are two things I can narrow down for you, taking into consideration the information you’ve given me so far. Commonly found in these breeds is something called hip dysplasia, where the hip joint undergoes abnormal development or growth. The other possibility for his lameness is a form of chronic arthritis called osteoarthritis, which deteriorates joint cartilage more commonly in older dogs like Mandu here.”

“He’s not that old though?” Jimin hums, brows furrowing in bewilderment at the news. He pats the dog’s head fondly, saddened but glad that he can breathe a little easier now that he knows what’s going on.

“Perhaps, but he’s lived a very active lifestyle, you see. Heavy strain and activity on the dog’s body can bring this forth quicker, much the same as it does in humans,” you explain with a sad sigh.

“I do recommend getting x-rays done to check out the full extent of the damage, as well as to check for any other abnormalities.”

You then take your leave to fetch the main doctor, and Jimin finds himself startled to discover you’re only a veterinary nurse here. By the way you were reeling off information from the top of your head, as well as the confident manner in which you examined and diagnosed his dog, he would’ve effortlessly assumed you ran the goddamn joint.

He waits in the administration area while Mandu’s getting his x-rays done, fingers fiddling with themselves from the trepidation building up inside him. He doesn’t even hear you enter the room, and can’t help his back going ramrod straight attentively when you clear your throat. Curse his years of training in the force.

“Hey, I can just see that you’re a little stressed out there. He must mean a lot to you.” You walk around the corner of the front desk and take your place one seat away from him. Jimin realises that you most likely keep your distance from most customers with an unmistakeable barrier of professionalism, but for him you seem to be stepping right out of your comfort zone.

He can tell by the unnecessarily chipper tone of your voice, and how your eyes flicker nervously to the side every once in a while. You’re good at hiding how anxious you are, he’ll give you that, but not good enough to escape watchful eyes such as his. Not when he goes through the exact same thing.

He finally musters the courage to respond after a few seconds of simply eyeing you in curiosity. “Yep.” He smiles tightly and returns his gaze to his interlocked fingers, knowing the expression wouldn’t reach his eyes. “He’s been with me through thick and thin. Almost like a little brother or son to me, as weird as that probably sounds.”

“I wouldn’t say weird,” you instantly oppose, laughing to brighten the sullen mood Jimin knows he’s bestowed upon you. “I think it’s sweet, and he’s a very lucky dog to have someone caring about him so much.”

Your sentiment melts the icy sadness around Jimin’s heart ever so slightly. The cold blanket encompassing him ever since his last loved one left his side. He hasn’t felt the urge to open up since, but he knows he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. “I- thanks, I guess.”

Before he can continue on and ruin the somehow light-hearted atmosphere by telling you he wants to be alone, you’re suddenly speaking again in that gentle voice of yours. “It’s kinda funny how we keep running into each-other, don’t you think? I can’t help but hope you’ll both be at the park whenever I pass by…”

Jimin’s at a loss for words at your candour, looking up sharply to see the way you’re shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and avoiding his eyes like the plague. It looks as though you regret the words as soon as they’re out in the open air.

But … he feels the same.

He can’t say it. He won’t. He can’t just let you in and create a space for yourself in his life, or heart right now. He cannot admit that you’ve lived in his mind for free ever since he saw you that second time, running past him with that smile on your face, confusing him with your antics to no end. Why do you keep getting under his skin in the best possible way?

“I mean, i-if you’d like to go out for coffee or something later on, I-”

He dips his head with a small sniff to attempt to cut you off in a somewhat polite manner. “Ah sorry, I’ve got a … funeral at two. Not really in the mood these days, but I appreciate it. Seriously, I do.”

He doesn’t wish to see your reaction to his less than eloquent rejection, but he catches it regardless. That wrenching moment you come to the conclusion that you read the signs all wrong. The glimmer of hope and interest in your eyes slowly flickering out like dying embers, although not completely, and he has no doubt it ever would.

You frown and instantly come through with a quiet “I’m sorry for your loss,”, but Jimin dismisses the sympathy with a tiny wave of his hand, claiming that it was a colleague and acquaintance rather than a close friend or family member.

It’s already obvious to him how much of an optimist you are. You’re holding onto that tiny shred of hope as if it were the string of a helium balloon, one moment of slack and he’d be floating away from you far out of reach.

“Right, sorry if I overstepped.”

He doesn’t know what to say. You’re way too considerate and understanding of him, and the painful burn that leaves on his conscious is so real. It reminds him of all the times his brother would tell him to never take people’s kindness for granted, but here he was shooting you down even though you’d never given him a reason to.

In fact, he likes you enough to go back almost instantly on his words.

“I really am busy, otherwise … I would actually love to, believe me.” He combs a hand through his hair in exasperation, inwardly cringing at the damp dewy sensation greeting his palm as he’s reminded again of his post-shower dilemma. You’re already chuckling at your newfound victory, and he’s pleasantly surprised at the sudden streak of mischief in your eyes.

“Let’s make it a date for Saturday then, see you at the park usual time? I’ll make sure to come out earlier so I don’t miss you again.”

Damn you’re assertive, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t liking it. Something in the way you so effortlessly drew him out of his shell was electrifying. Was he even in total control of his own emotions right now?

He’s left in a stunned silence, nodding in response to your question before you’re suddenly making your exit, uttering something along the lines of ‘best wishes for the funeral’ and ‘good luck with Mandu’, but he can barely hear beyond the rushing of blood past his ears. He’s a flustered mess of a man right now.

He only regains majority of his focus once he’s left the clinic with some anti-inflammatory and pain meds for his dog, a slight dent in his bank account, and a date.

~

Holy fuck. You really did that. You did.

When it came down to it, you just saw your shot and took it. Simple as that, really. When the attractive guy from the dog park had shown up at the clinic, piercing deep brown eyes full of purpose, you’d very nearly felt your brain short-circuit at the sight. However, as time went on you began to get a glimpse of his true self.

It took every ounce of strength within you not to openly coo at the way he soothed his canine friend, with gentle words of encouragement spilling from his plush lips like a steady stream of water. If you’d been blind, you might have even been led to assume he was speaking to a fellow human.

Jimin, he’d revealed as his name. He was so lost in his worry for Mandu you didn’t think he’d even retained memory of your own name when you’d given it, but in the end it didn’t matter. You now had a literal date planned where you could talk and get to know him even more! How you’d managed to force the bold question out, you’ll never know, but hey at least one of your spontaneous and stupid decisions had to go well once in a while, right?

You sink into your couch, a fluffy white cat curled up on your lap as you relive the memories from the day. The relaxing sounds of purring surround you as you massage your fingers into your cat’s thick neck fur.

“Oh Ghostie, what the heck am I gonna do?”

Right now you can only think back to the way his hair was a bit of a jumbled mess, evidently damp and sticking out in all directions cutely. The addicting scent of his body-wash, if the rushed situation and flushed complexion was anything to go by, and aftershave. The man had those butterflies swooping around in your stomach already, and you barely knew him.

Your cat growls in protest when you let out a tiny squeal and make a harsh grab for a couch cushion, effectively burying your face deep into it in pure unadulterated embarrassment and disbelief. After living life being perfectly happy and single, why was this one somewhat decent-looking man sweeping you off your feet?

And sweep you off your feet he would, because when you finally show up to meet him at the dog park on Saturday, you’re being harshly barked at and sent flying to the ground before you can even process what’s happened. The dull ache from the force of impact fades quickly, and you try to regain your bearings before anything worse can happen.

“Fuck, sorry!”

The sight of your freshly washed jeans, now sporting a lovely scuff, causes you to cringe slightly. You shake your head and lock eyes with the pointy-eared dog standing over your body. It strikes you as bizarre, seeing as Mandu’s not exactly attacking you, but he’s not all that happy to see you either. You’re locked into a stand-off, despite you currently being knocked onto your ass with your heart still racing.

“Get off her!” comes Jimin’s outraged yell, his eyes are wide in sheer disbelief and disappointment. You can’t help but laugh softly at his exasperation, the shock of the fall now trickling away at the sight of the familiar face, or rather faces.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), I honestly don’t know what came over him. We were waiting by the pond and he just … took off when you came around!”

You stand and brush your clothes off, feeling your cheeks burn at the fact that he had actually remembered your name from the clinic the other day. You try to tell him it’s fine, but he still scolds the now sheepish looking dog at his feet – albeit as gently as possible through his vexation.

“I couldn’t leave him at home,” Jimin starts, sighing and clipping a leash to the dog’s collar pointedly. “Told him to behave himself but yeah, that didn’t go down well.” He regards you with concerned eyes, and you feel your heart melt at how he tries to subtly check you over for any injuries.

“I’m fine, Jimin, trust me. Working at the clinic means I’ve had my fair share of body-slams. Don’t sweat it.” You wave your hands before squatting, lowering yourself to be face-to-face with Mandu who still seemed to be eyeing you warily.

You understood it. Here you were, nothing more than a stranger, trying to take his owner and favourite person in the world away from him. You had to somehow convince Mandu that you weren’t a threat to their little family of two.

“Hey, buddy. Remember me?” You slowly reach out a hand to pat the top of the dog’s furry head, eager to earn his trust. “I’m not gonna hurt either of you, promise.”

You miss the way something flickers in Jimin’s eyes after hearing you say that. A glazed look of predictability, of cold hard doubt … but it’s gone when you rise to your feet once more. The dog seems to have accepted you for now, averting his eyes from the direct and intimidating glare he’d had trained on you ever since he’d pinned you down.

“Shall we, then?” You find yourself saying, self-confidence shocking you both as you smile and lead the way out of the park and towards the middle of town.

It doesn’t take long to find a nice café to sit at, and it’s with reluctance that Jimin leaves Mandu tied up outside. However, he knows he has to tone down his attachment in view of the public eye, and you especially. He doesn’t know just how far you’re willing to go for him.

He was a closed iron door to the world, yet he was still somewhat intrigued to see your efforts in getting inside. There was no way he was going let it happen, not again, but … why was he here then?

After ordering the coffees, him taking his black after years of late nights on patrol and you filling yours with sugar, you both surprisingly hit it off well. You suppose that after noticing how heavily you could relate to him, and vice versa, it was easy to understand one another and fall into steady conversation.

“The police force, huh.” You sip at your drink with a drawn-out hum of confirmation. “I actually kinda guessed that.”

Jimin blinks in shock. “You did?”

“Yeah! I mean I’ve seen Mandu a handful of times now, and it’s in the way he’s thoroughly trained to listen to your every command, not to mention the way he moves. When I gave him the check-up at the clinic, I forgot to mention that I just assumed your occupation when I said ‘active lifestyle’ back then.”

There is no way you’re going to tell him that you’d also made that assumption based on the man’s incredible build and well-toned muscles as well. Best to keep your thoughts on the dog, and luckily for you Jimin turns his head to check on his companion resting outside by a bowl of water, allowing your eyes to roam freely for a decent second or so.

“Well, you’re more observant than I thought,” Jimin notes through a breathy laugh, fingers lightly tapping at his coffee mug in thoughtful contemplation. You can’t help getting lost in the sight of him yet again.

He’s an absolute vision right now even if he’s dressed casually, only foregoing the shorts and joggers for simple black jeans and flatform sandals. His hair looks as soft as ever, and though his eyes are still open windows that show he’s hurting inside, you can’t help finding the immense beauty behind the pain.

There’s a short, comfortable silence as you both nurse your mugs of caffeine, but you break it in fear of letting an awkward air settle in. Damn, you do love being a little socially inept sometimes.

“Why the name Mandu?” You think it’s an innocent question, but unbeknownst to you, Jimin’s thoughts spiral at the reminder. The memories and origins of his boy’s name that uncomfortably sting at his heart like nettles.

“Ah, it was my brother who named him … actually,” he reveals, wondering if the slight crack of his voice is noticeable as he smiles convincingly. If you see through him, you don’t show it. Instead, you register the hint ever so slightly and aim to avoid prying.

“You would’ve only had him for a few years, right?”

“I served for five, so yeah he’s only been mine for a few years, but I did meet him before that while we were both in training.” Jimin laughs at what seems to be a fond memory, pushing the other ones to the back of his mind for now. “I was a little obnoxious about it back then, because I had to be with him. I demanded it to the chief and everything, if I wasn’t getting Mandu then I would drop my application because we’d bonded so well.”

You giggle, and cough lightly to hide your embarrassment instantly afterwards. “I love that, it’s quite obvious to me that you two are meant for each other.”

“What about you? Got any pets?” he asks, eyes alight with a newfound interest. Catching the way he leans forward in his seat ever so slightly; you feel a familiar warmth bloom in your chest. Jimin was finally relaxing around you.

“Yeah, a cat.” You cover your mouth with one hand to suppress your amusement, waiting for Jimin to scoff at you or screw his face up in disgust, but he doesn’t. Rather, he looks upwards in thought and then shakes his head while chuckling meaningfully. “Mandu would hate you for saying that.”

“Not a fan?”

“Absolutely not. I’m impartial though.” He watches you over the rim of his mug when he lifts it, an amused glimmer in his eye.

“Good to know. Good to know.” Your eyebrows shoot up and you can’t wipe the grin from your face, absent-mindedly stirring your coffee with your spoon. It wouldn’t be long before the drinks were finished, but you didn’t want this moment in time to end.

The two of you chat for another half hour or so, but you can’t help noticing the distant look that surfaces in Jimin’s gaze whenever he brings up old memories of his family or brother. Your curiosity burns at this point, and you feel yourself wanting to get to know him so much more. He’s such an enigma to you. Watching the way he tries to let go and be himself, unapologetically, but holding back just as you catch an addictive glimpse of what that might be.

As you exchange more stories and memories, you can’t help but feel yourself digging a little deeper to uncover what’s tearing him down so hard. “You keep mentioning your brother, I’m guessing you guys are close?”

And ah, now you’ve done it. It hurts to see the guarded expression slam back down on Jimin’s features, but you knew it had to be done. You didn’t know if it were just you who could see it, but by repressing all his memories and feelings, Jimin was doing more harm than good to himself. Some internal part of you wanted to help him, because you knew exactly what it was like.

Though you weren’t expecting every dam to break just yet.

It takes a moment for Jimin to deliberate on his next words, but you wait out every second with him, patient and understanding. He notices this and decides that it’s alright for him to indulge just this once, to let someone in for just a single moment. “Not really, well … used to be. He, uh, he left town a while ago.”

Left?

You keep your tone quiet, not wanting to scare him away because he did seem like the type to take off at any given moment. “Sorry to hear that,” you murmur.

“It’s alright,” he says, wondering just how much he should give away. It’s the first time he’s met up and gone out with someone he’d consider a ‘friend’ of sorts in ages, so he’s not sure how much he should be disclosing right now, but something about you makes him want to let it all go. It scares him like nothing else.

“Honestly it hasn’t been … a great time for me since he left. Y’know, he was the only one that ever stayed, and things were tough being in the force and everything,” he offers through a dry laugh.

You want to reach out for his hand on the café table so badly, but it’s too soon to be that close. He’s testing the waters right now, showing you a vulnerable side that you can easily tell he doesn’t let out very often. It warms your heart, and all these broken feelings he’s showing you make everything feel so real. You can’t help but want to give yourself back to him.

“I can’t imagine it would’ve been easy. I know how it feels, actually.” You mentally prepare yourself to revisit a time you usually laid to rest, keeping the gentle smile on your face because even though these subjects were touchy and very meaningful to the two of you, you’d actually come to terms with yours years and years ago. Learned how to turn that pain and suffering into progress, self-growth.

“You do?” You can tell the sheer hope and relief in his tone doesn’t quite match the caution in his eyes, as if he doesn’t want to think that someone as bright and bubbly as you can ever have as many problems as he does, but you shut that train of thought down for him.

“Yeah, I … don’t have any family left either.”

He wants to know how, why, but he pulls himself back from the question almost instantly. Still, you can see it all on his features. He’s an open book for you to read.

“It’s okay Jimin, I came to terms with it a while back. I’m an only child, but my parents died when I was a teen.”

It hits him like a freight train then. The realisation that yes, of course there are other people in the world who have lost just like he has. The sad but forgiving look in your eyes just about breaks him. He’s been so self-centred the whole time, not even thinking that maybe you’re sitting across from him going through a life just as lonely as his own.

“I don’t know what to say.” To your shock, it’s him that reaches across the table to grasp your hand gently, and you hadn’t even realised it was shaking slightly until he’d steadied it with his own. There were no hidden intentions in his gaze, just a pained understanding. You’d both needed to simply tell someone.

“I promise I’m fine now. It was years ago. I don’t even know why I’m…”

You trail off with a shaky laugh, tightening your grip on his hand slightly in fear that he would let go of you. You were essentially strangers, but you’d both needed this. You needed someone to listen as you talked, to have that visceral sense for the pain rather than simply try sympathising with it. It was different when you knew the feeling.

After the sudden serious note of the conversation had passed, both you and Jimin felt a little weight taken off your shoulders. You’d both torn some walls down today, and that in itself was enough to garner bucketloads of respect and admiration on both accounts.

You part ways back at the park, a new kind of friendship blossoming that, if you were being honest, neither of you had seen coming.

~

A couple of months pass after that, and in between his regular walks and visits to the clinic, Jimin finds himself spending more and more time in your presence. He even jokes around with Mandu that he should walk just a tad more lamely so he can stay a little longer between check-ups. But at the end of the day he knows he truly wants his boy to get better.

The first time he steps foot inside your house, he’s instantly halted in his tracks by the fluffiest white cat he’s ever seen. After hearing you mention, ‘she hates strangers’, and ‘she’ll probably cuss you out straight away’, it comes as a surprise to both of you when Ghost wraps herself around Jimin’s leg and purrs needily. A louder purr than you’ve ever received in your whole ten years of being her owner.

“Stop whoring yourself out! He’s just here to pick up some worming tablets,” you tut in disapproval, earning a hearty laugh from Jimin at the snappy tone. Ghost narrows her green eyes at you and rubs her chin along Jimin’s pant leg one more time for good measure, proceeding to saunter into the kitchen utterly oozing with sass.

After a few more random visits, you stop beating around the bush and begin inviting Jimin over to either chill out or have dinner. Obviously, more often than not it turned out to be both.

You’d order something in and then joke about how unhealthy you were for being too lazy to cook. Jimin even gets so exasperated sometimes that he carts food over from his own home to cook up in your kitchen, funnily enough. It wasn’t your fault you never really had the time to teach yourself during your unrelenting years of university and work, and it wasn’t as if you had a parent around to help you learn as a child.

Jesus, way to be depressing.

It wasn’t uncommon for you and Jimin to find random spots of humour within your combined trauma and abandonment issues either, as unhealthy as that sounds.

You always figured that life was too short to be sad all the time anyway, and even though that ideology alarmed your newfound friend at first, he soon slowly began to see the appeal. He was kind of over being sad, honestly.

He remembers standing by the coffin at Hoseok’s funeral, the very same fateful day he’d encountered you at the clinic for the first time. He’d felt overwhelmed at the emotions threatening to pull him apart at the seams, but at the same time, he’d felt cold at the lack thereof.

That was the result of letting himself get close to someone again, even through work of all places. His partner with the sunny disposition and heart-shaped smile? Gone from this world in a single click of a finger. It was too easy, too much of a risk to get closer. Jimin remembers not even being able to bring himself to cry back then, but things are starting to change now that you’re in the picture.

He still has that lingering dread that you’ll leave him too, but try as he might to keep you at arm’s length, he simply can’t. You bring out the best in him, and you make him want to try harder, to try being better. In a sense, you’re like another Mandu to him. He can’t just ignore that.

He tells you about Hoseok one night, just because it comes up in conversation and he’s already rambling on before he can stop himself. He looks up at your crestfallen face, knowing your heart hurts for him even though he’s unable to muster the correct emotions, all thanks to the disconnection he’s forged from his dead colleague already.

He recalls severing himself from those feelings right as he died, and again when he stood by his body at the funeral, but then you went and somehow reconstructed that bridge without him knowing.

“You know it’s okay to miss people, Jim. To remember them for who they were, and what they meant to you. It’s okay to miss them because they’re gone.”

He cries in your arms until 1 a.m. that night.

After a while, he begins to let people see the true him, fed up with hiding and done with shutting the world out. He returns smiles directed his way in the street, he ventures out to do nothing but simply stop and smell the roses. It’s refreshing, and it’s as if he can barely remember what it feels like after years of being chained down by depression and self-loathing.

You did that, with your calming presence, your affirming words, your genuine care. He’ll never forget it.

And slowly but surely, Mandu begins to warm up to you as well.

“I swear he’s only squaring up just to show off or something,” Jimin snorts as he walks beside you on the concrete path, Mandu in tow on a leash now that you’re leaving the park.

“He’s asserting dominance.” You cast a glance behind you to see the dog glaring you down, just as usual.

‘Why the hell are you walking next to him when I’m supposed to be there? You’re just a lowly human who doesn’t deserve my dad’s time or attention. How dare you!’

You bite back a laugh when you imagine the thoughts running through Mandu’s head, and he sniffs and growls at the sight of you not taking him seriously. He’s a big bad wolf, fear him goddammit.

“I’m sure he’ll accept me into the pack one day,” you respond good-naturedly, earning an eye-roll from Jimin as he shoots a pointed look of warning towards his boy once more. He can’t help but feel tingles erupt across his skin hearing ‘the pack’ come from your mouth. You make it sound like an actual family, and for some reason he seems to crave exactly that. That’s what all of you are to Jimin, a little family.

“Sure, but good luck convincing him to accept Ghost. I’m sure he’ll be walking around with a ‘NO CATS ALLOWED’ sign hanging from his neck soon enough.”

The dog agrees.

The next day is when Mandu’s last check-up is scheduled, and you wait by the front desk nervously as Jimin discusses options with Dr. Kim in the next room over. It’s been several weeks since the dog’s initial diagnosis, and he’s had a slight improvement, but it isn’t enough.

You and Jimin have spoken about how worried he is regarding the dog’s rapid muscle loss, and your heart always constricts at the sight as well. There’s only so much medication you can give.

You already know that Jimin’s current status of unemployment means he probably doesn’t have the means to fund more than one surgery, that is if he wants to remain financially stable. You’d need another plan.

“Hydrotherapy?” Jimin squawks. He’s a picture of confusion right now, one eyebrow cocked and pretty lips parting in surprise. You can’t help laughing at his dumbfounded expression.

“Yes, Jiminie. Dr. Kim has asked me to explain it to you so we can work out when to schedule it. Basically, dogs with chronic arthritis need to be able to exercise their joints and muscles without the excess strain, so regular swimming sessions are perfect.”

“It’ll help him get stronger?”

“Exactly, and since he’s up to date on his vaccinations we can organise a session right away, if you’d like?”

Jimin can’t suppress a shit-eating grin at the formal tone you’re using with him. He’s so used to messing around with you and having general chatter that the sudden switch to your ‘customer’ voice, as he calls it, is now more amusing to him than ever. You grumble under your breath, knowing all too well that he’s making fun of you without actually saying it.

“Fine, when can we start then? I’ve only ever seen him swim once, and it didn’t go well for the bad guy,” Jimin acquiesces, lifting his brows once and smirking at you mischievously. You ignore him.

“That’s alright Sir, we can start this Thursday.” You smile in such a pretentious and artificial way that Jimin has to smother his offended gasp. Now you’re just being rude.

“Pretending not to know who I am? Damn, guess I’ll just throw that strawberry shortcake I bought in the bin when I get home…”

And he’s got you. Your eyes light up and your fingers curl into fists on the desktop. You swallow thickly at the thought of him eating one of your favourite desserts on his own, or even worse throw it out like the heathen he is, but you’re determined not to cave in.

“I’m sorry Sir, I don’t quite follow. Your unhealthy affairs have little importance to me.”

You’re putting up a fight this time around, and Jimin’s willing to play. He leans on the desk with his elbow, the suave and impish air he suddenly exudes makes you nervous on the other side of the marble structure. “In that case, can we make this quick? I gotta rush home and catch up on the last two episodes of ‘Anohana’.”

This time you can’t contain your sharp inhale. “You promised we’d watch that together.”

Jimin chuckles with glee, taking the easy victory with a cocky lick of his lips. You trail the movement with your eyes before glaring at him again. “I don’t even care, you’d better not.”

He enjoys riling you up way too much. “Or what?”

“I’ll literally bust down your door at 2 a.m. in the morning Park, don’t test me.”

He knows you’re only joking around, but hearing his last name uttered in such a grave manner shifts something within him. He’s suddenly transported back to the chief’s office, hands wringing together in unease. “Park, is this about yesterday?”

“Park! He ran over there, follow me quick!”

“Jung wait…”

He has to shake his head, the smattering of memories and thoughts filtering from his mind slower than he’d like. He needs to drown out the sound of the echoing gunshot with something else, something louder.

You’re watching him the entire time with an apologetic gaze, picking up the miniscule signs that tell you he’s had something from the past triggered and brought back up unwillingly. You don’t even know what it is that you said, but you stay quiet and allow him to regain his composure.

“You okay Jiminie?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just thought of something,” he hums, not bothering to try and pretend as if nothing happened. You both knew each other too well at this point, and you understood him enough to have learned it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Sometimes these things just happened.

“Thursday sounds great, (Y/n).”

“Of course, I’ll lock it in. How does catching those last few episodes tonight sound? We can ugly cry and eat ice-cream like the cliché we are,” you say with an enthusiastic clap of your hands, and Jimin smiles tenderly. You always have a sense for what he needs.

He inwardly thanks the heavens for your existence, because now he won’t be alone in the silence of his home, with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. Even Mandu couldn’t help him sometimes.

“Lovely. It sounds lovely.”

You’ve changed him, and he wants to spend the rest of his life telling you just how thankful he is.

So when his phone rings one late night and he sees your name light up on the screen, he doesn’t hesitate to pick it up, even though his past self would have lethargically thrown it to the side while shrinking away from any kind of human interaction that wasn’t necessary.

“Hey,” he mumbles, eyes still squeezed shut from sleep.

Silence.

He’s startled into a more wakeful state by Mandu lifting his head suddenly from his lap, the attentive canine’s ears twitching as he bores holes into the phone in Jimin’s hand. Now worrying, Jimin says your name into the phone twice, eyes scanning the way his dog seems to be picking up whatever tiny sounds are coming from the speaker.

There’s a sniffle, and a tiny hiccup. “Jimin … I’m sorry. Can you come over right now?”

Anxiety flares up like some kind of wildfire within him, and Jimin’s rocketing from the bed before he can take the time to stop, breathe and think. Mandu follows, a bark of alarm leaving him as he dances around Jimin’s bare feet in excitement. He gets that the dog doesn’t know any better, but from the sound of your sobbing on the other side of the line, anyone could tell that something had gone terribly wrong.

He needs to be by your side now.

“Mandu stay,” he orders, not caring to use any proper commands due to the way his hands are shaking. His heart is hammering against his ribcage, just as it had way back when he’d rushed Mandu to the vet for a simple arthritis problem. Now, his next favourite being in the world was the source of his panic.

He’s thrown on whatever clothes he can find and tries to ignore Mandu’s flurry of whines and howls from inside the house once he’s settled in the car. You’re still on the phone, but he can barely get a word in when you’re crying and blubbering nonsense like you currently are. The most Jimin can do as he drives is what he would need in the stark moments of a mental breakdown, gentle words of encouragement and … a song.

He hates himself for it, but he remembers the lullaby his brother used to sing for him whenever he cried, and he hopes to dear God that he can calm you down with his voice just as Taehyung had when they were younger. The soothing notes fall from his lips, and the memories they bring hurt so much that he can feel himself choking up, but he tells himself that you matter more.

He pulls up to your house ten minutes later, your crying thankfully reduced to a collection of whimpers and sniffles. He doesn’t dare hang up, but barges through the front door without a single second of hesitation. He briefly glimpses the flash of a white fluffy tail disappearing down the hallway, the cat obviously scared out of its mind from the recent events.

Then he sees you curled up in the kitchen, and he just wants to make everything stop.

You’ve got your head in between your knees, tears falling freely from your cheeks as you cradle one arm in your other. Jimin notices with a jolt of shock that the arm you’re holding is all red and blotchy, and it’s clear to him that you must’ve burned yourself somehow.

He rushes to your side and holds you as carefully as he can, almost slipping on the pool of water and charred remnants of baking paper scattered on the tiled floor just beside you. “What happened?” he urges after trying to soothe your trembling form for ten minutes.

He has you on your feet now, arm in the sink as he runs icy cold water over the heated skin as gently as he can. He’s clumsier than you though, so even as he tries to handle your limbs with as much care as you’d once handled Mandu at the clinic, you still wince in pain every now and again. Guilt shoots through Jimin every time, but he knows you’ll forgive him.

You don’t speak until your arm is sufficiently treated and wrapped, thanks to Jimin’s courses in first aid that he can barely remember at this point, but it serves him well enough for now. Your eyes are downcast, and your lips are cracked from all the grief you’d caused them with your teeth. He waits for you to get it together.

“I’m … I’m sorry you had to come all this way-”

“Don’t say that, I’m so glad you called me (Y/n),” he cuts you off, leading you to the plush couch in the living room and sitting you down firmly. He kneels in front of your figure, now wrapped tightly in a blanket for security and comfort, and rests both of his hands on your upper arms.

“You need to tell me what happened, do you feel alright now?”

You nod your head, but he fixes you with strong disbelieving eyes and boom you’re weakened, shaking your head with a sigh. “No, I’m not.”

“How can I help? I’m not great at it, but I really want to help you,” he says earnestly, fingers pressing circles into your arms and calming you down enough to breathe evenly. Your lips twitch up into a nervous smile.

“That song you sang over the phone helped a lot, actually. I don’t know why.”

Hearing that causes Jimin to undergo a whirlwind of conflicted emotions, but he once again tells himself that you’re the only one that matters right now. He starts to sing again but you reach forward to ruffle his messy hair with a chuckle. “It’s okay, I’m just letting you know.”

Thank God, he thinks. Then again, maybe if he uses the melody and lyrics for good, those negative associations could be turned into positive ones. Maybe it was time to make the song his own.

He sees you struggling to think of where to begin and shifts to take a seat next to you with a smile. “Just start with what happened, yeah?”

“Okay.” You nod, combing back your hair with your fingers and wiping the last salty tears from your skin. “So I wanted to try baking something…”

You eye him with a glimmer of amusement in your gaze, and he instantly capitalises on it. “Well there’s your first mistake.”

You playfully wack him, feeling your spirits lift at the sound of his laugh and the sight of his crescent moon-shaped eyes. He really was your light in the dark right now.

“It was going well, actually, but then I heard Ghostie knock something over in my room and I went to check for … not even two seconds.”

Jimin knows that this is where it gets serious, your eyes glaze over again and he can see the recollection of the events flashing through your mind like a reel of film. “I left the baking paper out, and the space was way too messy, I-I definitely should’ve kept it cleaner. I came back and there were some things on fire, but nothing too bad. I just…”

You bend down to rest your face into your hands once more, and Jimin quietly rubs your back in concern. By the looks of it, you were able to put the fire out easily, so what exactly prompted you to break down like that?

You lift your head and keep your shaky hands clamped together by your lips, eyes stricken and weary from the onslaught of emotional stress. “There’s something I haven’t told you yet Jiminie, I would never hide anything from you, so I guess it just never came up. It’s … why I kind of lost the plot after throwing water over the entire kitchen like a lunatic.”

“You can tell me,” he soothes, brows furrowing in distress.

“It’s my parents. How they died….”

His throat tightens with apprehension at the topic, knowing it’s something you definitely avoid talking about whenever it comes up. It was always buried so deep, and Jimin can’t recall ever asking you about the finer details of what you went through.

He feels time slow to a halt as you utter your next words. “They died in a house fire when I was fourteen. Burned to death.”

Oh fuck. Fuck.

It falls into place now, and Jimin snaps out of his daze when he feels your shoulder shudder underneath the palm of his hand. He’s at a loss for words, the sight of how truly upset you are making his heart sink in sorrow.

He scoots over on the couch to hold you close and whisper soft calming words. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You’re alright, I’m here now.”

You know he has no idea how much it means to you, just hearing those simple words when the anxiety and fear continue to claw at your throat like hellish nails. You’re caught in its grip, the flashing images of flames and the sounds and smells of screeching, burning, crumbling to dust. It surrounds you, and you choke on the tendrils of smoke as if they’re really there, filling your lungs like a heavy sand. It stings, and it’s excruciating.

“Maybe I’d fare a little better … if I’d just stayed somewhere else that night,” you can’t help whimpering out, the memories resurfacing too quickly for you to have control over them.

“You were there?” Jimin reels. Hearing that you’d witnessed your own parent’s death was nothing short of devastating. That was way too much for a young mind to handle, surely. Could the world really be that cruel to one of, if not the most amazing person he’s ever met? He can’t help but cry for you in this moment, trying his best to stay silent as his tears soak into your shirt.

You both stay locked together for another hour or so, Jimin listening intently as you explain the story to him of what happened that night. It’s agonising to relive it, but you know he needs to hear it from you. There’s nowhere else he can hear it from, really.

“Y’know, working in the force meant I had to handle situations like that a few times. It was rare, but it did happen. I’ve seen the faces of the families; I’ve seen the damage it can cause. I just wish you hadn’t been alone, fuck,” he mumbles, hating that he can’t just go back and fix what’s unfixable.

You wave him off. “Jimin, you’ve done more for me tonight than … literally anyone’s ever done for me. Truly, I love you for that.”

His heart leaps in his chest.

“I don’t relapse too often,” you carry on shakily, “it’s just that the sight of a fire that’s out of control just … it just terrifies me so much. I see their faces in the flames.”

It’s so fucking messed up. He feels his entire being shiver in discomfort at the image you’re painting for him, but he only holds you closer. He wants to chase it all away, even though deep down he knows he can’t. All he can do is be here for you, with you when you need it most.

“That’s why I went into vet science,” you say, eyes growing brighter the longer Jimin embraces you. It’s like he’s physically holding you together, and it’s so very safe in his arms. “I had to come to terms with death as a concept, like properly. I wanted to save those who didn’t deserve it just yet, those who deserve to live longer lives just like they did. It’s my life’s purpose.”

Jimin comes to the realisation, right then and there, that he probably loves you.

You are, without a doubt in his mind, the strongest and most remarkable person he’s ever met. He wants to be around you all the time, wants to share your energy, wants to be half as amazing as you are – with every fibre of his being. It’s not like he can just say that though. Not right now, anyway.

He tucks the thought away for another time. A better one.

“What about you? Why did you want to become a police officer?” you ask, snorting once into a tissue to finally rid yourself of the snot and tears.

“Me?” Jimin chuckles. You’re always one to turn it around, never wanting the spotlight for more than needed. He fondly reaches up to run his fingers through your hair, grazing the skin of your cheek along the way and making you smile wistfully.

“Well, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly why. It always comes down to justice, right? We all want to enforce that, protect those that need protecting, and saving lives as well. I’m very similar to you in that sense,” he starts, clearing his throat to lighten the atmosphere with a confident tone. You find yourself snuggling into his side, just longing to hear him talk for hours while you wrap yourself in the warmth of the blanket and his reassuring presence.

“My family left a while back, and my brother was the only one who stayed with me. Both of us had to fend for ourselves, and with me being the eldest, it was easy to fall into that father-figure kind of mould. I wanted to protect what we had, but it was pretty laughable when I was the smaller kid.” Jimin laughs, surprising not only himself, but you with the way he speaks about his past so openly and without any bitterness or animosity.

He was looking at it a different way, and he had you to thank for that.

“So I trained,” he continues. “I trained so hard and spent years proving myself. I came home to our tiny flat every night, prouder than I’d been the night before. And Tae-”

His throat tightens and he has to cut himself off, the syllables of his brother’s name dying on his tongue due to disuse. He hasn’t said it in years, and the feeling his name conjures is strange. There’s the ever-present cold hard hatred building in his chest, but in some wild and wacky way, it’s easier to move past it.

“Taehyung … he was so proud of me too.”

You lift your head from where it rests on Jimin’s chest, moving your hand to envelope his where it resides in his lap. His fingers grasp yours gently, a simple squeeze telling you that he’s alright to keep going. He’s got you so relaxed in his arms that you can almost feel yourself falling asleep, but you know you mustn’t. You have to stay awake for him right now, right when he’s opening up completely.

“Since you shared your story, I figure I have to share mine.” Jimin smiles, the expression not completely reaching his eyes. Both of you have made so much progress tonight, it’s not even funny. He knows that if he doesn’t tell you now, he most likely never will.

“We … fell in love with the same person, me and Tae. It got ugly, and we were super close until the countless fights and yelling matches tore us apart. Even after we both got over this person, we couldn’t stand each-other. We couldn’t make it through one day without a handful of painful jabs being sent back and forth. It was bad, so bad.” He takes a deep breath, and you sit up slightly to hold him closer. The positions were reversed now.

“I needed him, despite all that, I really did. He was the only one left, and I was too proud to just forget everything that’d happened to us. I got offered a place in an exchange program with a group of officers in my force, it was to Europe and it went for no longer than two weeks, but when I got back Tae was…”

“He was gone,” you finish for him when he can’t, raising your hand to wipe the singular tear cascading down his smooth cheek. Jimin sniffs and smiles at you, turning to bury his face into your hair and letting out a large, heavy exhale.

“I sold the flat after many nights of just crying and breaking down,” he mumbles softly into your head. “I still don’t know where he went, but I also didn’t want to exploit my access to citizen information to find out. I think that’s when my passion for the force started to die down, though it took years for me to finally have the guts to leave. Nothing’s fair in this godforsaken world.”

It was a harsh and negative outlook, but you found yourself agreeing to a certain extent. Here you were, the epitome of optimism and ‘bright side’ herself, wanting to watch the world burn for just a second. Just like your family had.

You cringe at your own line of thought. “It’s our job to make it better-”

“Don’t even say it (Y/n), I swear to God,” Jimin warns playfully, cupping you cheeks in both palms and squishing them until your lips open and close like a fish. His eyes sparkle with adoration, and you whine out in protest against his actions before you can get lost in them.

“I’m just saying!”

“Don’t just say! Let me be emo for once you fool.” He tackles you onto the couch, spirits steadily rising from the depressing venture into his memories. Feeling light and as unburdened as a feather, he pins you down and tickles your sides mercilessly.

You miss the warmth of his comforting hugs but can’t help shrieking in laughter as you let it happen. You’re happier seeing him happy anyway.

Before things can escalate further, a disapproving meow interrupts the two of you, and you both whip your heads to the side to see Ghost sitting in the middle of the room. Her tail twitches in annoyance, and her face seems to be screaming ‘are you lumbering idiots done yet?’.

“Wow, a whole mood-killer. Maybe we should clean up the kitchen, actually,” you suggest while trying to catch your breath, grateful for the reprieve. Jimin’s eyes flit back to meet yours, and you catch the dark look he’s giving you. He knows you’re just trying to escape him right now.

“Fine, but don’t go thinking you’re off the hook even for a second.”

~

Weeks fly by after your emotion-packed, train-wreck of a night. If anything, it only drew you and Jimin closer than ever. You now had another layer to your friendship, another reason to stick together through thick and thin.

Jimin had attended around three hydrotherapy sessions with Mandu, and to your delight, it actually seemed to be working well! The dog would definitely soon be right on track to return to his former glory, minus the slight greying around his muzzle from old age. There only seemed to be one problem though…

Mandu was shit scared of water.

Every single time, the poor canine would whine and yelp for his owner as if he were legitimately dying. You could only watch on in amused silence, pursing your lips to hold back a cackle as your best friend had to bend down at the pool’s edge in order to calm the dog down.

The staff members working at the specialist pool were understanding at least, but that didn’t stop Jimin’s cheeks from flushing with embarrassment every single time.

“Buddy please, you’ve literally chased down killers and jumped over an entire ravine before. Some water won’t kill you!”

It fell on deaf ears, and Mandu howled extra forcefully in defiance. You couldn’t hold back your snort of laughter this time, the scene of the heated argument between dog and owner way too funny to let slide. Jimin throws a betrayed look at you over his shoulder, grumbling something under his breath you can’t quite catch.

In the end, some of the more patient staff members manage to coax the shaky dog into the water, and it’s with great struggle that they finally manage to get him swimming properly. Jimin has to stay within the dog’s line of sight 24/7, even one moment away and Mandu would start thrashing about and yipping in a panic.

You laugh at Jimin the entire time as you stand back to watch, the looks he sends you in return having ‘traitor’ written all over them. If he didn’t have to stay dutifully by the poolside, you’d be in your right mind to believe he’d storm over and kick you into next week for being so bratty.

“You just need to practice. Get him used to it,” you tell him once you’re all leaving the facility, a freshly dried pooch trotting beside you with fur sticking up in all directions. You can’t help but think the dog reminds you of Jimin like this, back when he’d rushed to the clinic in all kinds of disarray.

“Used to it? Did you see him in there!?” Jimin splutters, squatting down to hold Mandu’s face sternly between his palms. The dog remains unbothered as he flashes you a side-eye for assistance.

“Yes I saw. I’m surprised police dogs don’t spend more time training in water, to be honest,” you muse thoughtfully, reaching down to ruffle Mandu’s ears in reassurance. “It’s okay baby boy, you’re not alone,” you coo, smiling when the dog’s tail wags twice in response.

“Baby b…” Jimin trails off, clearing his throat consciously after feeling heat crawl up his neck at the pet-name.

“Anyway, it’s been a few sessions and he hasn’t quite got the hang of it. Why don’t we try spending some time in the water outside of sessions too?” you suggest cheerfully.

“Where? I don’t have a pool.” Jimin cocks an incredulous brow. There’s no way any public pool in these parts would let some random dude and his dog splash around and dirty their space.

You step up and poke Jimin firmly in the chest with one finger. “Did you just never look out the back of my place?”

“You have a pool? What in the hell-”

Jimin’s mouth hangs open in outrage. Even after all this time, he really hadn’t noticed it even once? You had to be fucking with him. “No way.”

“Uhh, yes way? Dude all you had to do was look outside.” You rest your hands on your hips, definitely unimpressed right now but trying your best not to laugh at him too much. He’s already been the butt of all your jokes today. Every single one.

Jimin has to see it for himself to believe it, so the next evening he pulls up to your home with Mandu in the passenger seat. The poor baby is blissfully unaware of the fate that awaits him here, but Jimin only feels the sweet, sweet taste of revenge on his tongue at the notion. After the hell Mandu had put him through these past few weeks, it was time to get payback.

“C’mon boy,” he sniggers. An evil grin stretches across his face and figurative crimson devil horns poke out from his hair.

“How dare you take advantage of him and his inability to be human,” you drawl lazily from the now open front door, and Jimin jumps in his skin from the shock. He hadn’t even made it to the damn porch and you’d already heard him.

“He deserves the slander.”

You shake your head and lead the duo inside, instantly groaning when Ghost and Mandu begin hissing and snarling at each other like their toes have been stepped on. Your fluffy white cat has all her hackles raised in hostility, and the dog in return has his lips drawn back to reveal a row of sharp white fangs.

You’re at your wits end, and similar to the other few instances of Mandu and Ghost meeting, you stomp your foot and stand over the pair as menacingly as you can. “You two are acting like complete animals right now, calm down or you’re going into timeout!”

When the two pets actually shut up, Jimin guffaws with no restraint. You simply huff, as if expecting that your threats would work regardless, and gesture to the glass sliding door adjacent to the kitchen. “It’s out there, are you happy now?”

Jimin cranes his neck and lo and behold, there it is in all its glory. A fucking pool. And to top it all off, it’s even surrounded by a towering black metal fence and gate, as if Jimin didn’t feel stupid enough for not noticing it already.

“So who was wrong and who was right?”

“Shut up.”

The two of you get ready to begin your little ‘home brand’ hydrotherapy session, with Jimin already donning swim trunks in case he has to jump in and intervene at any point. The pool is already much deeper than he’d anticipated, considering the ones at the actual therapy centre were nice and shallow for the dogs in rehab.

You’re dressed in a similar manner, with small tight shorts and a black t-shirt that’s so long it almost hides the fact that you’re wearing pants at all. Jimin has to keep his gaze controlled from raking up the expanse of your bare legs. He wonders if you’d somehow planned to get him all hot and bothered, seeing as it was a warm Spring night that was perfect for taking a dip.

“Okay, well he already seems spooked at the sight of water. You’re going to have to get in,” you say apprehensively, eyeing the way Mandu is already shifting anxiously from paw to paw. You’re all stood beside the shallow end of the pool, the gate fastened shut in case the dog tries to make a break for it suddenly.

Jimin coaxes Mandu forward with soft words of support and praise, taking the steps one at a time. It’s obvious how much the canine is hating this, his ears are pinned flat to his head and his knees are wobbling from the fear. Your heart is shot through with pity for the animal, but he needs to get better at this.

“Here, I’ll help,” you mumble, getting to your feet and stepping into the pool behind the jittery dog. With Jimin pulling him forward by his shoulders, and you urging him onwards from behind, it doesn’t take long for him to start doggy-paddling around. You help Jimin monitor his movements, checking for any signs of discomfort but finding nothing as Mandu works to keep his snout above water.

“I think he’s less nervous because it’s just us,” Jimin comments, a wide smile on his face at seeing his boy paddle around calmly. No frantic thrashing, no barking, no outbreak of chaos as usual.

“Funny that,” you breathe out with a chuckle. The waterline comes up to around your chest at this height, and you shiver as the cool liquid brushes against the underside of your bra. “I can’t go much further, all my underwear’s gonna get wet.”

The innuendo is essentially fresh bait, and you already know you’ve set yourself up nicely just before Jimin chuckles. “Right, why don’t you just go back and take a cold shower then huh?”

“Literally fuck you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to get wet?”

You gape at his bold humour, not used to the suggestive way he’s eyeing you as he leads his innocent dog around in the pool. If you were being honest, the ideas he’s putting into your head are absolutely sinful to say the least.

“What if I do?” you scoff, and two seconds later you’re plunging deeper into the refreshing coolness of the water before Jimin can even clap back with something lewder. You’re completely submerged, and for some reason Mandu begins to panic slightly when you vanish from sight.

“Woah, it’s okay she’s not drowning,” Jimin hushes in a serious tone, making sure to support the dog’s body with both arms as the animal treads through the water with powerful kicks of his hind legs. You resurface further down, hair now completely wet and sticking to your head uncomfortably.

“Hey, he got scared for you just then,” Jimin calls out. You feel a tug on your heartstrings and swim back down to the shallower part of the pool.

“Aw, Mandu was worried for me? What happened to hating my guts for stealing Jimin?”

Jimin gives you a weird look at that. “Stealing me? Jesus, do I just exist to be passed around by you guys?”

“Maybe.” You giggle. Something about the assertive way you act has Jimin feeling hot all over, and he’s reminded yet again that it’s a quality of yours he’s come to find madly attractive.

Or maybe it’s just the fact that your basically halfway naked not even a metre away from him. He can’t even focus on the task at hand when he gets a full view of your soaked t-shirt, and how the outlines of your rounded chest are now completely visible to his watchful eyes.

He can’t help but gulp at the thoughts running through his mind. “Hey, how long has it been now? Think that’s about one session’s worth for today.”

“Right, it probably is. Good progress! I might stay out here for a bit though, it’s super hot and my air conditioner basically cracked the shits last night.”

Jimin climbs out of the pool, the hem of his shirt soaked but luckily everything above that dry as a bone. He grabs a towel and dries Mandu off, whispering praises of how well he did to swim properly today. Once he’s done, he opens the gate and lets the dog out to run around your somewhat spacious backyard. Jimin has to look away in disdain, because he knows it won’t be long before his buddy starts rolling around and making himself filthy again.

Jimin returns his gaze back to you, and he stifles a laugh when he sees you randomly floating on your back in the middle of the pool, limbs splayed out like a starfish. You look dead to the world, but honestly, he can’t blame you. It is rather hot for a Spring night.

He barely even thinks about his actions before he’s peeling the shirt from his back. His honey blonde hair becomes tousled from the movement, and he throws away the piece of clothing without batting an eyelid.

As for you, well, now you’re stressed.

Sure, you knew he was an ex-police officer. You knew he worked out daily and took care of himself unbelievably well. Sure, you were happy to just close your eyes and pretend like you weren’t ogling the heck out of him right now, but it just wasn’t happening.

He was absolutely beautiful; you could even say carved from marble and it wouldn’t be much of a stretch. It was difficult not to gawk at the smooth way his muscled arms and shoulders tapered down into a gracefully cinched waist, not to mention the nice set of washboard abs and delicious V-line that has your mouth very nearly watering. You remind yourself to ask him later what the large ‘Nevermind’ tattoo stretching along his ribcage means.

“Wow, you could have some shame.” He flashes you that shit-eating grin, but frankly, you’re just ecstatic that he seems to be so confident in his own skin. Once upon a time throughout your friendship, he would have never been this comfortable around you.

“What, am I not allowed to appreciate what you’re showing me? You could’ve easily just left the shirt on,” you complain loudly, rolling over to lay face down in the water in hopes that it would douse the heating of your rapidly burning cheeks. With your eyes and ears underwater, you only feel the ripples hit your skin as he jumps in to join you.

You lift your head and gasp for air, catching sight of him swimming towards you rapidly. “Wait, what are you doing!?” You barely get to shout before he’s picking you up and throwing you back down into the water with a tremendous splash, loud laughter booming from his chest as you scream and struggle in his grip.

“Jimin I swear-”

You cut yourself off by sweeping a massive wave of water in his direction with both arms, grinning wickedly as it smacks him straight in the face. He wipes at his eyes and shakes his head, much like a dog would, and you vaguely register Mandu’s barks of excitement from somewhere out in the yard.

“I’m getting you back for that,” Jimin grunts, and you feel your stomach squirm as he starts moving towards you again.

“No, no, no! Okay I’ll be good, leave me please!”

Your pleas are left unheard as you try to escape from his grasp, but he’s too quick and too strong to evade. Your legs kick up into the air helplessly as he dunks you again, and once you finally resurface, he’s already got you in his hold. “Stop, I can’t compete with you, you beefcake.” You purse your lips and blow a raspberry of pool spittle into his face, struggling within his arms in fear that he would start throwing you again, or even worse … tickle you.

Your loud wails and shrieks of laughter had filled the air for the past ten minutes or so, but you were obviously weaker than he was, and you both knew you were going to tire out much faster. So, to your pleasant surprise, he stops teasing you and simply holds you by the waist, high enough that your entire head and neck are above water.

“You’re absolutely ruthless,” you grumble, bringing your hands up to rest on his bare biceps for support. You marvel at the way the lean muscles flex underneath your fingers as he shifts you to be more comfortable.

It’s so very hot, and you can’t help but notice the heat licking at your abdomen the longer you stay locked in this position. Your legs wrapped around his torso, and his face is just above the line of your soaked chest. You just thank God you hadn’t chosen to wear a white shirt at this point.

“Yeah, well you’re just fun to mess with,” he finally responds after a few moments of slowly floating around the pool’s edge. You smile warmly down at him and use both your hands to comb back his dripping hair with your deft fingers. Once again, you’re stunned into silence at how attractive he truly is. Especially when he looks at you like that.

Wait, why is he looking at you like that?

His handsome eyes are dark, and lidded. He’s smirking at you just as he always does, but this time there’s something different. The air around you changes. It feels … charged.

He’s not done, shockingly, and he continues to back you up until you feel the edge of the pool press into your back ever so slightly. He then lets you down to stand on your own two feet now that it’s shallow, your toes brush the pool tiles suddenly and the feeling elicits a small jump of surprise.

He’s closer than he’s ever been, and you feel your breath hitch at the feeling of his bare chest brushing against the material of your saturated bra. His hands come up to trace the line of your waist again, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Jimin,” you sigh, looking up at him through your lashes. Your hands have a mind of their own at this point, and they find themselves tracing the lines of his dripping arm muscles once more. His eyes are staring into your own, burning with a heat and a desire you know all too well.

He wants you, right now.

You immediately cave in, feeling your thighs squeeze together as he descends upon your lips. The kiss is somewhere in between sensual and ravenous, with both your lips parting almost simultaneously in pleasant surprise. He lifts one hand from your hips to tangle into the wet hair at the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him as he melds his lips together with yours.

God, you’ve pined after him for so long that you somehow forgot what the feeling was called. You moan softly into the kiss and feel his lips quirk into a smile. He immediately knows just how badly you’d been craving this, and honestly, he’s been thinking about the exact same thing for months now. You both just needed some kind of hot situation to force you together, to give you the confidence to finally take the chance.

“You don’t know how long I’ve just wanted to have you like this,” Jimin says in a low voice, pulling back to catch his breath and rest his forehead upon yours for a moment. Your heart is going absolutely crazy in your chest, and you bring both your hands up to cup his face gently.

“I’ve wanted you since we met in that damn park, can you beat that?” You hum sweetly.

His eyes widen immensely, but then soften in a warm realisation. “Okay, I think you got me there. It’s been a couple of months though. Wow, the park? Really?”

You nod, and he lifts his hand to cover yours over his cheek. His eyes are swimming with a love so deep and profound, you just want to kiss him silly. “Yeah, I mean I don’t think I fully realised it until later on. I was happy to just keep that crazy good friendship of ours, but then I knew all along I was in deep,” you say candidly.

Jimin kisses you again long and hard. “Shit, I think I’m gonna say it. I love you. God I love you so, so much.”

You could almost cry at the heartfelt confession. His smile is blindingly bright, and his eyes are positively gleaming with happiness. You realise then that they weren’t tired anymore. Perhaps they hadn’t been for a while now.

“You saved me, (Y/n). You literally brought me out of a dark place I never thought I’d get to leave.”

“Stop you’re going to make me...”

‘I’m serious,” he murmurs, lifting your face with his thumb and forefinger to catch your overwhelmed expression.

You peck his cute little nose. “I know you are, and the same goes for you! You were always there when I needed you, Jim. I love you so fucking much, it hurts.”

He laughs airily, chest feeling light and fit to burst from your requited affections. He can’t believe that for once, this cruel world had decided to give him something nice for a change. He was … actually allowed to keep you?  

At the same time, you’re positively brimming with relief and pure bliss. You jerk forward and catch him in a needy kiss mid-laugh, silencing all your nerves and disbelief as he returns it passionately. You squeak in surprise when he lifts your body – with ease, you might add, thanks to his physique – to sit up on the edge of the pool.

He continues to trail his lips along your skin as you hold him tight, and you love the way he handles you so carefully as if you’ll break in his palms if he’s somehow too rough. You simply can’t wait to see his face when you tell him you like it that way.

As he moves to your neck, you snake your arms around him and drag your nails down his back sensually, needing to feel him against you to prove that this is happening, that this is real and not some kind of dream.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans, nibbling at the juncture of your neck and sucking harshly at the skin there. The contrast of the cool droplets of water clinging to your body as they meet his hot languid tongue has you shivering all over.

You can’t get enough of his lips, and you’re all but suddenly finding out just how skilled he actually is with his mouth. Tiny lustful whimpers fall freely from your throat as his hands move from your neck down to your breasts, and when he begins to brush his fingertips over your nipples through the shirt and bra with a broken groan, you just about lose it.

“Jimin, I want to feel you,” you choke out, pulling him as close as the edge of the pool will allow. Thankfully, it’s shallow enough on his end that he can still reach up to your face, and you instantly take advantage of your height boost to wrap your legs around his body.

You tilt his chin upwards towards you with one finger and part your lips, instantly feeling his tongue slide fervently past them into your mouth. It’s such a forward and sultry manoeuvre that you lose yourself in the pure unadulterated heat of the moment. God, you’ve never been so turned on in your life.

His hands, which had fallen to brace himself on the concrete tiles on either side of your hips, now find purchase on your bare dripping wet thighs. You can’t suppress a shudder when he digs his fingers into those too, tracing circles with his thumbs to let you know where he’s going with this.

You pull away from his irresistible lips with a gasp. “What are you..?”

He smirks, mouth all swollen from your teeth and tongue, eyes pinning you down with a dark gaze full of salacious longing. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything hotter, until he growls, “I wanna take you right here, right now,” with a lick of his lips and downward glance of his eyes.

You’re left speechless, and before you can muster up anything to say in response, he’s hooking his arms underneath your knees and parting your shaky thighs slowly. He angles you closer to the edge of the pool, and you want nothing more than to just be under him. “Oh God. Jimin we should go inside.”

He looks like he’s about to argue, but then a flurry of wild barking and panting causes both of you to whip your heads around. There stands the source of the noise in question, all covered in grass and weeds from romping around your yard, and it bounds incessantly around the towering pool fence.

He’s watching you both excitedly and demands your undivided attention with another yap. If you had to take a wild guess as to what the dog wanted, it would be that he wishes to join in with his family’s little ‘wrestling’ match rather than being locked outside in the lonely backyard. You and Jimin exchange a look.

“Yeah, not in front of Mandu.”

“Never in front of him.”

You both grab your towels and scamper inside like two horny teenagers, very naked and afraid, but still laughing the entire way at your predicament.

Safely within your walls and locked away from the innocence of animals, you pick up where you left off beside the pool. The haphazardly tossed pieces of wet clothing and damp footprints throughout the house are soon forgotten when Jimin gets you in between your sheets. It doesn’t take long for him to have you screaming his name well into the night, and you’re sure that by the end of it, his lips and tongue have touched almost every inch of your body.

That’s not to say you didn’t have a fair go at him too, because when you wake in the morning to turn and see your hickeys scattered across his bare neck and stomach, you swear you’ve never felt more satisfied in your life. Yes, he’d proven himself to be quite a little switch in the making, and you feel positively giddy at the prospect of getting so much more time with him to find out exactly where that might lead.

He was yours and you were his. Together, you had something truly marvellous.

He turns his head with a grunt and catches you admiring his sleeping form. The resulting dazzling smile that splits his face leaves you positively breathless, just as every other aspect about him does.

“Morning,” you both mumble at the same time, and while you scrunch your face up in an endeared cringe, Jimin just laughs sweetly at the clumsiness between you. He moves over to plant the softest of kisses to your forehead, and you cuddle into his side like it’s your designated space to reside until the end of time.

In lieu of the family-shaped hole you’d been carrying with you your whole life, there now appeared a Jimin-shaped puzzle piece slotting into place.

And with that, you could ask for nothing more.

 ~

~

 Somewhere in the distant night, a young man taps his finger on the steering wheel of his car as he speeds along the eerily quiet highway.

The late hour does nothing to deter him, and he fights back the drowsiness threatening to pull him under as the road falls away beneath the tyres. He’s been driving for hours, but he persists without rest and soldiers on, full of purpose. Every time he feels a shred of doubt begin to linger in his mind, he glances over to the wrinkled photo resting on his dashboard and the initial burst of vigour returns.

He runs a hand through his long, curly black hair and eyes the photo again. The smiling faces look back at him, and he immediately wonders for the millionth time if he truly is doing the right thing here. The turn-off sign whizzes by his car window, and he realises that now is his last chance to change his mind.

He can keep living a peaceful life if he just continues straight past without looking back, but there’s no way he can do that. He can’t fail his only remaining family any longer.

He veers for the turn-off, taking a deep breath and reaching forward to brush a finger against one of the smiling faces in the roughly crinkled photo. It’s final, he’s made his decision.

I’m coming home. 

.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵  

TO BE CONTINUED

Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.

[7wanderingpaws]

Captain Bucheon 02

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader (Lee Nari)

Genre: policeman AU; enemies to lovers AU

Warnings:  langauge, mentions of drugs

story masterlist masterlist

<-- first -- next -->

tags: @wooya1224 (if you want to be un/tagged let me know! I forgot to ask last time lol)

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Second: Fears and Desires

Rushing out of the building, you made a quick run for the closest bus stop, trying to supress every urge to look back in case someone could be following you. With their identity being unknown and the box being successfully delivered on your behalf meant huge trouble for you and it left you incredibly nervous to stay in the same place as that anonymous. For whatever reason someone decided to deliver the box. Who could it be?

With your heart racing all the way in your throat, you thought that this situation would be the worst. Turning a sharp corner that led to the main road, you collided harshly with a sturdy chest, the person's arms flying out to catch your falling figure. Hands slid around your waist and steadied you up carefully.

Realizing your eyes were squeezed shut, you opened your eyes to be met with familiar ones. You slowly died inside.

“Careful,” he murmured as he took in your scared expression.

Stepping away from him, you tried to brush off the feeling of pining. You'd been working way too hard to avoid him for you to meet him exactly when you were running away red-handed. “What are you doing here?”

He shook his head gently as his gaze slowly took in your features. It made you shudder. “My workplace is not far away, remember?”

Gulping, you nodded, letting out a breathy snort as you looked down on the pavement. “Right. Silly of me to ask.”

“Are you okay?”

“I missed you,” you blurted at the same time and looked up at him. “Oppa.”

Baekhyun was frozen just for a moment before he stepped closer to you with the gentlest of smiles. Slowly, he reached up with his hand and cradled your cheek. “I missed you too, pretty.”

Pretty. Ah, how you missed that nickname.

“Then kiss me,” you let out boldly and you expected him to be surprised or even scold you for being so demanding but he surprised you.

“Oh, yeah,” he murmured, leaning in. “I will, now that you're finally here.” You helped him out by standing on your tip-toes while you let your arms circle around his neck, and his hands slid back to your waist. His lips touched yours gently, carefully, before you hummed and pushed yourself more into him, urging him to deepen the kiss.

He growled when he felt your chest press up to his and his grip tightened while one of his hands came up to your neck, tilting your head so he could have better access. With a simple lick of his tongue, he was inside and you were whimpering, gasping, panting. So, so needy for him. You groaned, feeling the strong attraction you both shared. It seemed that no matter how much you hated him, it was always present. You would always be bewitched by Byun Baekhyun.

He was still hungrily claiming your lips when he reached up for your arms and brought them down until he had your hands in his. He fumbled with them for a while and you smiled, expecting him to intertwine your hands. Just the feeling of his smooth hands on yours made the butterflies in your tummy flutter their wings.

Then you heard a click.

Baekhyun kissed you one last time, his lips puckering, before slowly leaning back and taking in your scared eyes when you felt cold metal around your wrists.

“Lee Nari,” he breathed, the puffs of hot air on your wet lips, “I arrest you for illegal drug distribution.”

><

Gasping loudly, you sat straight up in your bed, the aftermath of your nightmare still present and fresh in front of your eyes while you tried to shake off the dread and the terrible pull in your lower tummy. Why the hell were you sexually frustrated when he arrested you again?

“What is it?” you heard from beside you, a confused and sleepy Yuyeon. “Nari? Are you okay?” she was next to you within a second, the early morning sun lighting up the room softly through the light curtains. She saw you touching your lips while tears were rolling down your cheeks. “Goodness, was the dream that bad?” she asked again carefully and sat on your bed.

You whimpered, still shocked, and reached out for your best friend, wrapping your arms around her to get a feel of reality. “Just… it was ridiculous. So ridiculous, Yuyeonah,” you muttered, sniffing, flashes of Baekhyun's face ever-present and lively. That was certainly not how you imagined the first meeting with him to go. 

“It was just a bad dream,” consoled Yuyeon gently, rubbing your back in circles. “None if it is real, Nari.”

You nodded and pressed your lips together. 

Just a bad dream.

><

“Are you okay?” Someone muttered to your ear, successfully scaring the living daylights out of you.

You heard that sentence in your dream.

Turning around abruptly with wide eyes, you spot Chul who was smiling at you cheekily.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. You just look a little absent-minded,” he explained, scratching his neck as he looked at the ground.

You sighed. “I’m fine. But thanks for worrying.”

He nodded and wanted to say something before hesitating. You raised a questioning eyebrow, silently asking him what was up.

“Was everything fine after I left?”

Oh. You completely forgot to let him know the mission was successful since you were so freaked out by the unexplainable events. “Yes!” you squeaked. “It went perfectly!”

“Great! I received the confirmation text but you never followed up with an update.” He laughed. “Then we can focus on your run in the festival!”

You groaned and started stomping towards your classroom. “I really, really like REALLY don’t wanna do it.”

He followed you, snickering. “You’re our ace, Nari.” He hugged your shoulders with his arm and pressed you to his side. “If you won’t attend, nobody will come and watch!”

Puffing your hair out of your face, you silently fumed. “I already said okay to the darn MCing with that bitc- singer.”

“Were you just about to call her a bitch?” asked Chul, shocked as he maneuvered you through the crowded corridors. Students were giving you looks, some whispering when they spotted Chul, the famous boy.

“Ah, no, not at all,” you grumbled, not bothering to hide your sarcasm.

Chul chuckled and you stopped in front of your class. “You can be so feisty. Either way, bring this spirit to the running track. We are starting from today!”

“But-but I want to go out to the bar-“

Chul clicked his tongue. “I will gladly take you to a bar if you come to the practice.”

Not even stopping to think it over, you quickly complied: “You’ll buy me a drink, right? Oppa?” you added with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

He observed you for a moment, an amused smile splayed on his face. “Sure, Nari. A drink it is.”

“Deal!”

><

“Faster, Lee!” shouted coach Lim when you finished the second round, heaving loudly like a horse. “If you want to win an award for us you will have to do better than that!”

With bitter realization, you noticed how he reminded you of your beloved math teacher back in high school. Unfortunately, you weren’t that good at sports but you were still better than math.

“Okay, got it,” you exhaled harshly, coming to a full stop.

You saw the sun already setting, the cold air turning your hot breaths into condensation. You could practically feel your nose turning red.

“Hey, Rudolf!” Chul.

You snapped your head at him, glaring. “Do not mock me. You’ve dragged me into this yet you seem very unaffected.”

He laughed, walking over to you. “You already forgot why I am the president of the student council?” He quirked an eyebrow at you. “I’m good at everything.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay then you win the award for us.”

“Nuh-uh. It’s gotta be you,” he winked at you.

Too tired to bother fighting with him, you quickly went to change into your clothes, deciding you would take a shower once you got back from the smelly bar. Surely you stinking wouldn’t bother people too much. Plus, it wasn’t like you were trying to impress Chul anyway.

Meeting the senior outside, you headed for the closest bar, bickering on the way. Once inside he bought you a drink just as promised and you were fast to gulp down half of the cocktail.

“So, I’ve been wanting to discuss some matters with you,” started Chul, looking at you in amusement when you took another big gulp. “Just some other stuff that has to be taken care of about the festival.”

You whined and leaned your forehead into your palm. “Why now? We should do that at the student council.”

“You’re my right hand, Lee,” reasoned smoothly Chul and took a sip of his beer. The frothy foam left a small white mustache and it made you giggle. You motioned for him to get rid of it and he quickly licked it off. “Anyway,” he started with a laugh, “you’ll take care of the security team of the festival. Make sure to book the bodyguards and police guards around. We will have famous artists there so security should be our number one priority at all costs.”

You hummed, faking thinking. You ignored your rapid heartbeat at the mention of police, some flashbacks of your dream quickly chasing you down. Nodding, you hid your face behind the cup as you took another sip and looked around the place as if expecting to see the familiar face in the crowd just like you did on the night you met him.

“I kind of want to pass on this one,” you finally replied as you put down your glass.

“Why is that?”

Sighing, you pursed your lips not wanting to elaborate on your actual thinking pattern. “Just feels weird to talk to the police and blah blah blah,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m already doing so much for the festival, Chul, don’t you think?”

Chul observed you for a moment. “I’m sorry. I feel like a total jerk for always throwing all the responsibilities at you but I really am only giving you those tasks that require the most able person.”

“Oh.” You didn’t think about that. After all, Chul was right. You were kind of like a right hand to him, doing a lot of jobs in the behind the scenes whenever there were events happening at the school.

“And I heard that you might have connections at the police so I thought we could use that to our advantage,” he continued, hesitating when he noticed your sour expression. “Am I wrong?”

Your slight scowl turned into a frown. “Who the hell told you that?”

He blinked a couple of times. “Well, she told me it’s a secret so…”

“Chul?”

“Yeah,” he looked at your hard expression, prompting him to answer you. You swore you would kill Oh Sehun, you were sure it was him.

“Yuyeon. It was Yuyeon.”

Your mouth opened in shock. You thought you heard wrong. “What? What did she tell you though?” And why would Yuyeon talk to a person she didn't like? You knew her well and she voiced, or at least showed, how she didn't like Chul. In her opinion, he was too friendly with everyone.

Chul laughed unsurely, a little perplexed at the change of your behavior. “Nothing! I mean... she mentioned a boyfriend-“

“I never had a boyfriend at the police station,” you declared quickly. “I hardly know anyone there so I don’t think I can help you in this matter.”

Chul nodded, immediately complying while his hands played with the cup in his hands. “Right, sorry. Maybe I’ve heard wrong. You’d be too young to date a police officer anyway.” He took note of your sudden unreadable expression and when you didn’t reply, he added: “Then I don’t see a problem why you can’t take care of the matters! Since you don’t have a boyfriend at the station.”

You sucked your lips in, mulling over his words. It wouldn’t hurt if you’d ask for favors from Yuyeon or Sehun, right? They could call in with your name and that way you wouldn’t have to worry about the possibility of accidentally talking to Byun Baekhyun. Either way, it was hard to win an exclusive chat with the big captain himself, so eventually, you didn’t see that much of a problem with it. And, it was a must that nobody could find out about any kind of connection with him. People would know you were underaged or could think you were too easy and had a beneficial relationship with him. That could totally ruin your image — because you didn’t care about his for sure!

“Okay,” you agreed with a timid nod, avoiding Chul’s eyes. “I’ll do it.” Managing to fake a strained smile you finally looked up to catch him studying you.

“If it makes you uncomfortable—“

“No, it’s absolutely fine,” you chirped in and threw the remaining cocktail into your mouth. If you pretended it was hard alcohol maybe you could slowly start swimming in nothingness and forget about him.

It was unfair that he’d been chasing you in your dream. It felt so real. Even the kissing was so believable it made chills run down your spine. “I’m gonna order another one,” you decided, already standing up. “I need it.”

Chul nodded slowly, hesitantly, and shook his head when you asked him whether he wanted another one.

Walking over to the busy bar, you caught the waiter and ordered yourself another cocktail when a tall figure appeared next to you.

“Is this your fourth already?” He asked nonchalantly, looking around. He was one head taller than you so it wasn’t like you were obscuring his view. “Jez, woman, when was the last time you took a shower?”

Rolling your eyes, you waved your hand to finally bring his attention to you. “You don't even pay attention to me but dare to comment on my hygiene.” You clicked your tongue disappointedly. “I’m right here, Sehun, and no it isn’t my fourth. But I’m getting there,” you rumbled and tapped your fingers impatiently on the worn-down surface of the wooden bar table.

“Why are you here with Chul?”

“Cause you didn’t ask me to hang out,” you pouted and innocently blinked a few times.

Sehun elbowed you gently. “I was meeting someone else today. And anyways, you’ve been always busy during a weekday - you don’t have work tonight, right?”

Making a grimace at the mention of your work, you turned back to the barista, watching him mix your cocktail. “No, tonight I’m free. And I had my first training, Sehun. I will die if I have to continue preparing for that damn race,” you whined, turning abruptly to him.

“I’ll help you with the training. I promise I’m more fun than coach Lim! I hear he is rather hot-headed,” he said with a glint in his eyes. “You know I won’t scold you.”

You frowned like a kid. “Run the race for me then.”

Sehun sighed and when the barista brought you your cocktail he quickly ordered two whiskeys.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. “You’re going hard tonight.” Immediately you took a sip of your drink and felt an instant relief. While still playing with the straw, you looked up at your friend. “Who’re you here with anyway?”

Sehun gave you a look. “Uh, just a friend.” He shrugged. He was thankful for the crowded bar tonight. “We are just catching up.”

“Great!” You smiled brightly and put your cocktail down. “Do I know him? Or her?” you winked.

“Eh—“ Sehun hesitated and his eyes fell on someone behind you, following the person with his eyes for a moment. He then quickly took your cocktail and pushed it into your hand. “Nari, you shouldn’t have Chul wait for you. I’ll see you at school.”

You pouted, frowning. “Yah, are you trying to get rid of me?!”

“No, I'm really not but just go. I’m doing you a favor here.”

You were about to scoff and retort to him something ugly for daring to kick you out like that, when another figure appeared next to Sehun. “I have an urgent phone call. I’ll be back soon, Sehun.”

You stared at Byun Baekhyun with your mouth hanging slightly open. His hair was pushed from his forehead, leaving space to admire his handsome features and the wrinkle-free forehead. His jawline was sharp and you zoomed in on those lips and the way they showed his lower teeth whenever he opened his mouth. He was absolutely breath-taking and he kissed you last night in your dream. He arrested you, too.

Baekhyun finally looked at the person Sehun had been chatting with, intending to acknowledge their presence but maybe he shouldn’t have. Having Lee Nari staring at him that way still pulled on his insides.

It was exactly three seconds and you sensed Sehun nodding to himself awkwardly, obviously thinking well, I told you to leave, but he didn't have to speak indirectly no more. You dashed. You literally dashed along with your cocktail, not bothering about spilling it all over yourself in the process, not bothering to say bye to Sehun, let alone acknowledging Baekhyun's presence. You swore you wouldn't do it. So you didn't.

Your heart was wild and scarily loud as you hastily approached Chul and slid down into your chair, bringing breeze along with you. He locked his phone he’d been playing with while you were away but when he saw your disheveled state, he blurted: “Nari? What happened? Are you okay?”

You were staring at him, desperately trying not to look where Sehun and Baekhyun were.

“It’s fine.”

“Did someone try to do something?” He looked back over his shoulder and he directly spotted Sehun and he must have seen Baekhyun, too. They had their heads connected now, an intense talk going on. “Hey, that’s Oh Sehun with someone.”

“Yeah, I chatted with him for a moment. Anyway, I’m here now. Let’s continue the talk.”

Chul took a moment longer before he finally turned around and faced you. He caught you gulping down half of the cocktail and sighed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I am.” Your eyes wandered on their own accord and you caught eyes with Baekhyun as he was leaving the bar. He was carefully making his way through the crowd, his phone in his hands, most probably tending to that urgent phone call he mentioned. He must have still been a workaholic.

To your utter horror, he wasn’t a coward. You should have known better than to follow him with your stare, for Baekhyun kept his look on you, observing you expressionlessly until he couldn’t do so anymore and until he was out of the bar.

He would hunt you all the time.

And you, as mature and as confident you acted a year ago when you told him there might be a chance of you two starting over again, you realized you probably matured backwards during that time. Anger, hatred, passion - they were all burning up inside of you and all the unwanted memories came flooding back.

Biting down hard on your lip, you willed away the tears. Lee Nari was not someone who would cry just over anyone and she wouldn't get fooled twice.

It was just the realization that you would never be able to build your bridges up with him again that made you want to weep. Even though you wanted to, you found it almost impossible in that moment.

><><><><><

A/N: Whew. I had a little bit of a rough time with this one because it is so slow-paced and already a little complex (in my head). What did you think? I got you fooled there in the beginning heheh It was just a dream in case you are still not sure! Though you never know with Captain Bucheon, hm?

Please let me know your thoughts!! :) 

CuriousCat

[batfamscreaming]

Winter Break in Kansas [80s AU] 1/2

Bruce bade goodbye to Tommy and Harvey without telling them anything of his own plans for the holiday break.

(....both of them looked gaunt. Holidays hadn’t even begun. They didn’t muster much enthusiasm for the goodbye, and Bruce didn’t make them.)

He didn’t put on the hat or scarf until they were a good distance out of the building, where the other two wouldn’t see, and bundled himself up unrecognizably as best he could.

Nodded.

“Let’s go.”

--

Clark slung his backpack over his shoulder and started down the stairs where they could get a cab to the bus stop.

“Have you ever been to Kansas before?”

--

Bruce shook his head.

“No,” he said, tugging out a few dollars from his pocket and shoving them towards Clark.

He’d pay.

--

Clark took them without argument after seeing how that worked during Halloween.

Into the cab they went.

“Don’t blame you. Nothin’ there.” He joked, and away they went.

A cab to the bus station.

Then the bus to Kansas.

It would be a day’s ride.

--

Bruce had packed books.

...they had agreed, even if silently and grudgingly, that they would just have to give up on their research for the duration of the break.

...on the up side, they would finally have a little time to read what they wanted to, at least.

He tugged out two crime thrillers, passing one to Clark, along with one of the lunches-to-go he’d bought at the cafeteria for the trip.

For the first hour or so, he sat up primly, despite his disguise.

And then, as the bus ride kept going…

He tugged his legs up under himself and curled up in the seat with his book, letting himself lean a little into Clark’s shoulder when the seat was cramped, finally looking content.

--

Clark let him lean into him as much as he wanted, especially considering the crampedness of the seats.

He read a little and ate some of their packed lunch, and then for a lot of the ride he dozed. Riding in a bus or car had that constant hum that drowned a lot out that was easy to focus on and sleep to. It was better than the erratic noise of the city, that was for sure.

As they went on, the bus taking occasional breaks at rest stops, the hills died down and things became increasingly flat.

And then, early the next morning, they pulled in to their stop.

“Here we are.” Clark mumbled, grabbing their bags from overhead and passing Bruce his as they climbed off.

--

...it was surreal.

Absolutely surreal.

For someone like Bruce who had grown up with always something blocking the horizon, the sheer flatness of the world around him left him feeling a little… disoriented.

Vulnerable, even.

But he kept the hat and scarf on, holding his bags and exhausted from the bumpy ride, and followed Clark closely as he climbed off the bus.

--

Clark barely had to even look around before he motioned for Bruce to follow, ducking around the other people climbing off the bus. He went right to an old station wagon with a man stood leaning on the hood, arms crossed to keep in the warmth and an old truckers cap on his head. When he saw them he stood and waved.

“Hey Pa.” Clark smiled, and hugged him as a woman with dirty blonde hair opened the door and stepped out of the passenger side.

“There’s my baby boy.” She cooed, already grabbing Clark and kissing his cheeks while he groaned and protested.

“You must be Bruce?” Jon said, extending a rough hand towards him. “You can call me Jon. Clark’s father.”

His face was sun scorned and wrinkled less from age and more from working outside every day of his life, his hair cut short and dark brown.

--

He had that feeling again. Like he was floating, somewhere else entirely, only partly aware of what was happening in front of him. Only sort-of involved.

It was a familiar one, even if school sometimes lessened it. Sometimes.

He was hoping it would leave if he left Gotham. But here it was. Right away. Watching Clark run to his mother or her run to him, and his dad, and hugging--

He took the father’s hand, shook it, and said, “Bruce Wayne,” in the voice that was bigger than he felt in his head.

--

“So Clark tells me. Quite the name back out East.” He said, giving Bruce a firm handshake.

When Martha was finished embarrassing her son she walked over to Bruce. “I'm Martha, now let's get you boys where it's warm.” She put an arm around Bruce and gestured for him to get into the back where Clark was already piling in.

--

Oh.

He felt dizzy. And tight. His jaw tightened the smile onto his face to keep it there, even as his heartbeat rocketed up, until it was pounding in his ears.

(Waking nightmare)

He stumbled forward over his own feet, but followed where the arm took him, same as he did when Alfred started trying to guide him away from paparazzi anytime they glimpsed him. Anytime they got an excuse.

He held his bag tight and piled in beside Clark, regretting every step that took him to this conclusion.

--

While his parents got back in Clark looked over at Bruce with concern. His heart was like a drum suddenly.

“You okay?” he whispered.

--

Bruce’s face had fallen into a brutal neutrality once the eyes weren’t on him anymore. Blank and stiff.

But he nodded faintly, lying.

--

“... Okay.” Clark said, not believing it at all, but not prying further.

“So is it just as cold out there as it is here?” His dad asked.

Typical banter.

--

Him. It was him. He was being talked to.

Talk.

“Haven’t been here long enough to say,” Bruce said, lost somewhere over the horizon with no buildings to stop him.

--

“It’s colder in Gotham.” Clark added as they started to move once everyone was buckled up.

“We’re pretty tired from the trip though. Is the guest room ready?”

“Oh yeah it’s all waiting for you. Will you two want breakfast or you gonna collapse into bed?” Martha asked.

--

“Bed,” Bruce managed, even though he knew he should’ve said more than that.

But in his head he was already at a family breakfast. Staring at them over a meal. Having to talk more before he could think or control his heart or breathe and actually feel it filling his lungs, not just faintly keeping him conscious by a thread.

--

“Yeah we’re beat.” Clark said, although he wasn’t very tired. This was mostly for Bruce’s sake.

“We’ll just get some rest and then we can have lunch and stuff, okay?”

“Okay, that sounds good. I still need to run out and grab a few things anyway.” Martha said, and with that the conversation would taper off and away from the boys.

Clark did pass a look over to Bruce though, just to check on him.

--

...gradually, Bruce’s heartbeat started to slow again as the conversation moved away, and he didn’t have to drag himself to pay attention to it. Didn’t live scared of the response he missed. He could just stare blankly forwards and hover for a while.

But that was it, too.

He just… hovered.

The usual awareness wasn’t in his eyes. And he knew it wasn’t there.

And the part of him that wasn’t in front, that wasn’t keeping them in society, breathing, not being kicked out of the car of the only people he knew for miles and miles--

That part of him was screaming. A sound not even Clark could hear.

Wake up. Pay attention. It’ll happen while you’re not paying attention. It’s going to go wrong. If you don’t pay attention everything will go wrong.

But he couldn’t drag himself to the front yet.

He couldn’t do it that fast.

--

They drive for awhile before turning into a tiny little town that was just starting to wake up, and then they even drove away from that and down long barren roads onto a long dirt driveway, the farmhouse soon coming into view.

“Home sweet home.” Jon said as he pulled up to a stop.

“We’re here, Bruce.” Clark said quietly, trying to get his attention so they could climb out of the car.

--

It helped. His name. Instruction.

He shuffled out of the car, pulling his backpack back on, and at the very least managed to glance at the small farmhouse and and and

(he counted exits)

Before following Clark inside, looking dazed.

Like he did definitely need the bed.

--

“I’ll show Bruce to his room, he’s pretty wiped.” Clark said, leading his friend up the steps and… maybe putting an arm around his shoulders to guide him a little better.

“It’s up the steps. C’mon.”

--

He made a small confirming sound at his name, and

Arm.

Followed the arm. Pressed into it.

(Tommy guided him like this, sometimes. Alfred did. Away from the worst of things. Back to the manor, or their room, or--)

He was lost in three places at once. The farmhouse here, and the manor, and the academy and coming out of the alleyway under a policeman’s coat.

But he could make it up the stairs, and be guided to the guest room, at the very least.

--

Clark got him up the steps, paused only for a moment to point at the bathroom. “Bathroom is here. And this is the guest room.”

He opened it up to reveal a very old, dated looking bed with an empty dresser and bedside table with a lamp. Floral comforter and frilled pillow cover.

“Sorry it’s… very grandma.” He huffed. “But, uh, you get comfortable. You want something to drink?”

--

Looked fine. Normal, even.

He shook his head.

“...how long?” he asked.

--

“... How long what?”

--

...fuck. The word. Didn’t she say lunch?

“Til lunch,” he said.

How long to recover.

--

“Oh, like, uh… you still got awhile. It’s only eight right now so four hours? Ish? And if you need to chill in here longer you can.” Clark said, looking at an old clock over the door.

--

Four hours sounded like both an eternity and no time at all.

Bruce set down his bag and nodded, not sure what to say.

Not sure how to ask to start.

Alone.

Rest.

Privacy.

Please.

--

“I'm gonna bring you something to drink and then you can sleep or whatever.” Clark said, turning away and heading downstairs.

He came back a moment later with a cup of warm tea.

“Here. Just yell if you need anything.”

And then he would leave Bruce to recover.

--

“Okay. Thanks,” he said, letting the hot tea sit.

...he held it in his hands.

….the heat helped.

He could smell it.

...once he was alone, he closed his eyes and sat on the floor, holding the cup between his hands and just… breathing it in deeply.

He took a drink. Followed the heat as it traveled down his throat.

….

It was sort of like Alfred’s tea.

Two places, now. Only lost in two. That was manageable.

A little more color came back to him. He finished the tea. The cup cooled and it didn’t help anymore. But he was a little better.

...he didn’t have the energy to do much, though.

So he kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the unfamiliar bed, biting down on his hand as hard as he could, and once all he could think about was his hand, he closed his eyes on the pillow and let go.

And he would go to sleep.

And in four hours, he would be fine again.

--

In four hours or so, Clark would knock on his door.

“Bruce? You awake? We're gonna have some lunch now.”

--

There was a jump in heartrate as Bruce jerked awake, but he still understood well enough what had been said to him.

“Y-yeah-- just let me get to the bathroom.”

--

“Okay, just come down to the kitchen when you're ready.” Clark said, leaving him be. His footsteps could be heard going down the stairs.

--

...Bruce waited until the footsteps were down the stairs and a little fainter before crawling out of bed.

His clothing was wrinkled from sleeping in it.

He grabbed a new shirt and set of pants, and folded the two he’d been wearing on the bus. Grabbed his comb.

Bathroom.

He washed his face and combed his hair back, the way he always wore it, unless he ended up shoved under a John Deere hat. Made sure his shirt was flat and his clothing straight. Tied his shoes back on.

He hurried down the stairs.

This time, he was Braced for It.

--

Now that he was more aware of his surroundings he could take in the details.

Worn furniture. Warm. Lived in. Family pictures on the mantle over the TV that was playing The Price Is Right. Noises from the kitchen.

Clark and Martha were there, Clark over a bowl of soup and Martha watching the TV from her position in front of the stove.

“Well don't you look nice.” she grinned. “You hungry?”

--

Maybe ironically, Bruce wasn’t used to being complimented on his appearance.

Maybe because he grew up with Alfred, and he was wearing the bare minimum to please Alfred.

“Thanks,” he said, voice a little steadier than it had been that morning. “Yes, ma’am.”

--

“You like chicken corn soup?” She asked.

Clark was eating the same thing that was on the stove in a large pot; a homemade soup with bits of chicken, corn, and other things to make a hearty, white soup.

Without being asked Clark got up and started to get Bruce something to drink.

--

“I don’t think I’ve ever had it before,” he said honestly, watching Clark out of the corner of his eye.

--

“Well if you don't like it you don't have to eat it, okay?” Martha said, getting out a bowl and filling it with soup. She set it down in front of him with a spoon.

“We got tea, milk, or OJ.” Clark said, looking over at Bruce.

--

“Thank you,” he said again, sitting where she set it, and glanced back at Clark. “Tea?”

“...oh. I forgot the cup upstairs--”

--

“That's okay, just bring it down later.” Martha said.

“This is iced tea, but if you want more hot tea I can make that too.” Clark said, pulling out the jug to show Bruce.

--

Bruce blinked blankly at him, as if just confronted with something he had no idea about.

“Iced tea?”

--

The two looked at each other like Bruce was the alien.

Clark poured him a glass of iced tea and set it in front of him.

“Wondered why I didn't see it anywhere at school.”

--

Bruce looked down at the cup like it was a challenge.

“...”

He kept eye contact with Clark as he sipped it.

--

It didn't taste anything like hot tea. It was sweet with a tiny hint of lemon.

Clark stared him right back.

“... Well?”

--

…

Bruce stared down at it.

“...I think I felt one of Alfred’s ancestors disown me just now,” he said, and took another sip.

--

Clark laughed, “But do you like it?”

--

Bruce nodded.

“It’s good.”

It was a little like a flat soda, almost?

--

“Good.” Clark grinned and sat back down to finish eating. Martha looked to be scooping the soup that was left over into freezing containers and labeling them.

“You gonna give Bruce a tour of the farm when you're done?”

Clark looked over at him, “You want one?”

--

“Sure?” Bruce said, “Whatever the plan is.”

He had no idea if there even was a plan. He’d focused so hard on getting here he wasn’t really sure what to do otherwise.

Even Clark had admitted there wasn’t much to do besides bowling.

So his only plan right now was to run with manners and hope it got him somewhere.

He ate the soup and drank the tea, not finding it quite his taste, but eating and finishing it all the same.

--

Clark didn't really have a plan either. He had just heard his friend had what sounded like a really lonely holiday and invited him along.

So they finished their soup and set the dishes in the sink before bundling up to take the tour.

“You ever been on a farm?” He asked while walking down the front steps. The third one creaked.

--

He followed Clark’s lead. Ran upstairs to bring down the cup and wrap his own scarf (thick and dark) around his neck as they headed out.

“Gardens don’t count?” he asked rhetorically. “Then no.”

--

Clark chuckled, “No. Gardens don’t count.”

A man was pulled up in their driveway in a tractor with a plow hooked to the front talking to his dad, and Clark waved but didn’t go over. Instead he lead Bruce towards the barn.

“All the corn is down now since it’s winter, but we still got the cows I can show ya.”

--

Bruce nodded, following along behind him.

“Okay?”

He’d never seen a cow before.

...the sight and smell of them stopped him dead.

“...that’s huge.”

--

“How big did you think cows were, Bruce?” Clark laughed, closing the barn door behind them.

The cows were in their stalls for the winter, some laying down to sleep while others had their heads stuck through the bars to feed from their trough.

It did smell pretty bad, but Clark didn’t seem to mind. He walked over to one and pet between its eyes.

--

Bruce honestly didn’t know how the cows stood the smell.

...he followed up behind Clark, watching him pet the cow, though his curiosity was focused a bit more on the petter than the pet-ee.

--

“They’re nice once you know how to act around them.” Clark said, looking at Bruce. “Just, y’know, gotta be aware they can break your foot. Here-” He reached out to take the other boy’s hand and place it gently on the cow’s head where he had been petting it.

The fur was course almost. Rough. Not really soft but not really wiry either.

--

Bruce was honestly not even really thinking about petting the cows--

...but Clark’s hand was warm, and it startled him into complacency, hand being pulled out of his pocket like that and held, even just for a moment.

…

The fur was coarse. But she was warm. The cow. And even though the fur was coarse, the skin under it was soft as Clark’s hand on top of his.

… “Wow,” he said, knowing he had to say something.

--

“See? They’re nice.” Clark said, oblivious to what was going on in Bruce’s head right now.

“C’mon.” He said, leading him out of the barn and towards the backyard.

“That’s our own little garden even though it’s just a patch of frozen mud right now. We grow tomatoes, zucchini, strawberries, tons of stuff. Mom makes jam. I’ll have her give you a jar to take back if you want. It’s really good.”

He lead him into a smaller barn after that. It had a four-wheeler and a few tractors inside.

“This is where we keep some of the equipment.”

--

Bruce followed Clark around the farm, feeling a little dumb and dumbfounded, and not sure what to feel the rest of the time. The farm life was… very different from the world he knew. And he respected it, he was pretty sure--but he didn’t really know much about it.

So he followed politely, looking around.

He pretty readily agreed to the jam.

“Alfred will like it,” he said.

--

“Cool. Y’know you gotta show me around your mansion or whatever sometime.”

A dog barked and soon a dog with black and white splotches was running up to them.

“Oh, and that’s Daisy.”

She tried to jump up at Bruce in excitement, tag wagging.

--

“Woah--” Bruce took a step back as Daisy jumped up at him, but--

...it was a dog.

Bruce bent down a moment later and was scratching her behind the ears.

--

Daisy put on that ‘thats the spot’ face and leaned into it, grumbling happily.

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked, do you have any pets?”

--

Bruce… made a bit of a face. And shook his head.

“No. Not anymore.”

...he was content to keep scratching the dog behind the ear as long as she’d lean in.

--

Clark stood and just sort’ve… watched him for a moment.

It was nice to see him content like this. Away from pressure.

“You feeling better than you were earlier?” He asked, as though he somehow knew.

--

…

“Yeah. ...sorry about that. It won’t happen again.”

He’d bite it back as often as he had to.

--

“It’s okay, dude.” Clark shrugged. “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay when you’re around me. It happens.”

--

Bruce just… focused on the dog.

Clicked his fingers at her.

“I am fine, though,” he said, not even fooling himself. “...you didn’t tell me that’s what your mom’s name was.”

--

… It took him a moment. He looked confused, then his eyes went big.

“Oh. Oh, damn. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about it.” He looked ashamed and ran a hand through the curls in his hair.

--

Bruce shook his head, not… looking at him, for that. “It’s fine. You shouldn’t have to.”

He should’ve been able to handle this on his own. It had been years. (six years.) He should be fine.

But his throat was dry, even after draining the whole glass of ice tea, and his fingers were getting cold, even in the warmth of Daisy’s fur.

Why was he still talking?

“Dad didn’t die first,” he said. “He kept calling her name.”

--

Daisy tried to lick his face, tail wagging.

“... I’m sorry, Bruce.” Clark said quietly. “Must be hard.”

He had never lost someone before.

He didn’t know how it felt.

--

He’d said it wouldn’t happen again, but he felt that creeping chill on the edge of his consciousness, threatening to drag him out of Smallville again. It wasn’t there yet. It hadn’t yanked him in violently like back at the bus station. But he could feel the prickle of it; the threat.

He sat down crosslegged in the field, and let the dog lick him.

When she stopped he just… shook his head.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” ‘it must be hard’ wasn’t… something he was used to hearing. “I’ve got money and Alfred to take care of me. I’m fine.”

--

Clark sat down with him on the cold, frozen dirt.

“Yeah but that’s just money and Alfred ain’t your dad. You might have what you need but not what you want. ‘N money can’t buy that.”

“So, like… are you fine?”

He looked over at him and tried to meet his eyes with his own bright blue gaze that somehow stood out even more than Bruce’s. The sun was high in the sky and there weren’t as many clouds to hide him like their were in Gotham, and you could see how much his skin almost glowed in the sunlight.

--

That wasn’t what people were supposed to say, and the urge to argue Kent down made a thousand things meant to be kept secret bubble up on his tongue.

But he swallowed them down.

...he seemed much smaller out here, under the big, clear sky. In Gotham, in its narrow streets and foggy skies, he stretched up and could fill a room. Here he was just a small, lost shadow: dark clothes, pale skin.

And when Clark tried to meet his eyes, they were glazed wet, and in the process of being blinked away, even as Bruce’s voice said, steadily, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

…

…

“When I’m eighteen,” he said, guiding Daisy down to lie in his lap for a belly rub, “I inherit everything they left behind. And I’m going to take it and run away, until not even you’d be able to find me.”

--

Daisy rolled into him and was very happy for the belly rub.

“... Why?” Clark asked, sounding sad. “Just to get away?”

--

...at least someone understood.

Bruce nodded.

--

Clark nodded too.

…

“Where you gonna go?”

--

Bruce shrugged.

He didn't know. He didn't care much.

--

“Okay.”

…

“Well-” Clark nudged him a little. “-I’d like it if ya kept in touch at least a little.”

He gave him an award-winning smile.

--

...Bruce found himself looking at that smile, and… it was hard not to feel some guilt.

“We’ll see,” he compromised.

--

Clark went quiet and just sat with him then.

…

After a few minutes though he blinked and stood up, looking down at his driveway.

--

Bruce looked up.

Glanced down the driveway. Saw nothing.

But he looked back up at Clark without any doubt. “What do you see?”

--

“It’s Pete ‘n Kenny.” Clark said just as you could start to hear the car. He offered a hand down to help Bruce to his feet.

“Friends of mine. Guess mom told ‘em I was coming home.”

--

Bruce didn't need the help, but he took the hand anyway, pushing Daisy off his lap carefully as he went.

“Yeah…?”

He was a little anxious about meeting Clark’s friends.

He was bad with people. And caring about Clark made things suddenly infinitely more complicated if he failed to make a good impression.

--

“Yeah. Don’t worry about ‘em, they’re good people.”

Clark lead him over to the car as it slid to a stop, two boys sat in the front.

“You’re back!” The passenger shouted.

“Yeah, for winter break.” Clark said, then gestured to them. “Kenny, Pete. Pete, Kenny, this is Bruce. Friend of mine from school.”

“Yo.” Kenny waved from the driver’s seat, Pete from the passenger’s side.

--

Bruce waved back with a “nice to meet you,” and hung back, not willing to overstep. He was already looking at Pete and Kenny’s haircuts and their clothes, and starting to get an idea how Clark must've felt, standing out in school.

--

They dressed a lot like Clark did. Layers. Worn clothes. Mud around the ankles and hand-me-down jackets.

“Get in, both of ya, we’re heading down to the tracks.” Kenny said, pointing to the back seat.

“Uh.” Clark looked at Bruce. “You cool with tagging along?”

He looked hopeful.

--

Bruce shrugged and--well. He had no reason not to?

“Sure.”

He climbed into the back with Clark.

--

“Nice.” Pete grinned, and once they were in, Kenny started to back up and turn around to head out.

…

At first they didn’t really talk to Bruce. They just filled Clark in on all the town gossip. Who was boning who, who was getting knocked up, who had fallen out or gotten in trouble.

But soon that did come around as they pulled into a gravel spot by some train tracks. Pete leaned back and looked at Bruce. “He tell ya why he ran off to Gotham?”

Clark might’ve gone a little pale. “Pete.”

--

“Said he was layin’ low,” Bruce said, picking up Pete’s accent a little bit from being surrounded by it for a little. He crossed his arms on the seat in front of him and leaned forward, asking for more without saying anything.

--

“I’ll kill you, Pete.” Clark warned.

“Yeah. Layin’ low after blastin’ a guys arms off with his eyes.” Pete grinned.

Clark threatened to climb over the seat and smack him, and Pete just kept laughing.

“Pete you fuckin’ dumbass, you know he can actually kill you, right?” Kenny huffed.

--

Bruce just… looked sort of confused for a bit at that.

What did that mean? If it was an in-joke would Clark be that upset, but if it was leaning closer to real, what did that even mean?

He knew Clark… was different.

But he didn't realize he hadn't seen half of it yet.

“...what?”

--

“You didn’t tell him?” Kenny said, a little surprised.

Clark stopped smacking Pete, who was laughing his ass off. “Kenny! What do you think laying low means?!”

“Well I mean, c’mon man, you brought him here. Damn near everyone knows you’re an alien.” Kenny said, unintimidated.

Clark just… slumped back into the seat, as far away from everyone as possible, and shoved his face in his hands.

--

…

…

You know what?

Bruce was going to unpack all of this later.

Right now, all he could do was turn, look Clark dead in the eye, and say, “suddenly I understand why you had such a hard time with ‘snitches get stitches’ with friends like these.”

--

Clark was rubbing his eyes. “God.”

“Ah c’mon Clark. We gotta embarrass our buddy in front of his new friend.” Pete grinned.

Clark glared at him. “You’re honestly lucky I trust Bruce not to say anything. You know how much shit I could get in if everyone in Gotham knew? Area 51??” He gestured wildly to himself.

“If it makes you feel better people are starting to say those three were just tripping on something and imagined the whole thing.” Kenny said.

--

Bruce was still just… running with this. As it happened.

Unpack later. Survive right now.

(From his position, he could get an arm around Kenny’s neck and choke him as payback for Clark’s trust being violated)

(There was a red mark against Kenny from this, against Pete. Snitches get stitches. Silence was golden. Loose lips sank ships.

Trust no one.)

(‘You’re honestly lucky I trust Bruce not to say anything.’ When-- when had that-- when had he earned that?)

“What did happen?” Bruce asked instead.

He was ten places in his head, and lost in none of them.

--

They all looked at Clark.

…

Clark sighed and rubbed his head.

“Some assholes shot up the gas station last year. Killed like five people. I knew where he’d gone, I could hear the yelling, so I tracked them down. One guy shot me in the face with a revolver. I tossed him through the front of the house. Next guy shot me in the chest with a shotgun. I ended up burning his arms off. Then Pete came around and ended up clocking the last one with a shovel.”

He said it all so… numbly. Like he had unpacked in awhile ago and could now just… recite it.

--

“They lived?” he said, deciding not to question the… burning. The being followed. The shotgun.

--

“... Yeah.” Clark said quietly.

--

Bruce had gone back to his Gotham accent. His voice had been falling into his harder, more serious tone.

Pete and Kenny called this story embarrassing to Clark.

“But you did it?”

--

Kenny and Pete were looking at one another, watching this unfold after they had set it into motion.

“... Yeah?” Clark said again. “I can do… a lot of weird shit.”

--

Maybe the new fragile city kid going hard and cold wasn't what they'd expected when they started talking about small town maiming.

“Yeah, no shit, you beat my mile,” Bruce said. “...but you burnt their arms off.”

…he waited for one more confirmation, looking Clark in the eye just as Clark had done with him half an hour earlier.

But once he got it--even just a flash of a ‘yes’ in a look between them, Bruce said, “Good.”

--

And Clark did say ‘yes’.

But then he looked confused.

“Good?”

That was the first time anyone had said that.

--

And Bruce said it again.

Firmer.

“Good.”

--

Clark blinked and stared at him, like a whole other option had opened up to him.

…

“Damn,” Kenny said. “Hardass Gotham.”

--

Kenny still had a mark against him, and he wasn't helping himself, so Bruce didn't feel bad when he turned the full weight of a glare on him.

Maybe his eyes couldn't ‘burn off’ anyone’s arms, but that just meant that his blue eyes were cold and hard as ice.

“They shot five people? They deserve what's coming to them.”

--

… Kenny backed up and put his hands up. “Not sayin’ they didn’t.”

“Yeah, no one is saying that.” Pete added. “I mean, if he hadn’t showed up then they were gonna kill like their whole family.”

Clark still didn’t say anything. He was looking down, like he had never been told that what he had done was good. Not really. Whenever they had mentioned how he had done well it was also interlaced with ‘but what could have happened to you’.

--

They were going to kill their whole family.

They were going to kill their whole family?

That part hadn't been said. Just: Clark tracked them down. Clark fought them. Clark got shot.

Clark lived.

(They were going to kill a family, and Bruce, already mentally exhausted from the morning, from bracing himself against names, from coping, found himself seeing it happen in an alleyway unlike anything he'd seen in Smallville, and he was so tired of spending the day in that place.)

“Cool. Cool, so… fuck this,” he said, and turned to Clark, seeing him spaced out. “Hey. Kent. Snap out of it. You said you guys got out more than us, right? Time to prove it.”

Find somewhere else to go.

Somewhere to lose this conversation entirely, before they got lost in it.

--

“Uhhhh fine.” Clark groaned and sat up. “Let’s go.”

Pete put the car in reverse. “Where to?”

“... Bowling?” Clark shrugged and looked at Bruce.

--

“I'll pay,” Bruce said, fine with that.

“See you throw every single ball down the gutter again.”

--

“You were last!” Clark pointed out.

--

“Yeah. I have nothing to prove,” he said, straight faced.

“But I might try harder out of revenge now that I know I wasn't wrong about my mile.”

--

“I was gonna apologize but I thought that would be saying too much!” Clark pleaded with him.

“They makin’ you take gym, Clark?” Kenny asked as they drove.

“Yes.”

“Oof.”

--

Bruce-- Bruce wasn't angry at Clark for it, not really. He'd been the one playing mediator at the time. Half of him just… needed something to keep going. To be huffy about--something that didn't matter--so he wouldn't be huffy about things that did.

“Tommy and Harv aren't gonna say anything even if they’ve figured something out,” he said, finally leaning back some and trying to uncoil the tight knot in his shoulders. “I told them not to that day.”

And no matter how loud Tommy was, no matter how much the teachers liked Harvey-- at the end of the day, Bruce was the one in charge. He didn't say much, but when he told them to not pry or talk, neither of the other boys would.

That weight didn't transfer to Kansas well, but after that conversation-- it lingered on him, some, in the back of the car, in his nice dark clothes, and the cold exhaustion in his eyes.

“They've been letting him skip for asthma, but running a four minute mile blew that out of the water some.”

--

“... Thanks.” Clark said, looking over at him.

“Guess since no one is in on it over there things are kinda hard.” Pete said.

“You have no idea.” Clark mumbled.

…

“This is kinda a relief. You knowing now.”

--

...he relaxed a little more.

“...I'm gonna be processing this for a while still,” he said. “...but I guess it at least makes sense now why you didn't think I was insane about the Talons being real.”

….somehow, the thought that Clark hadn't just been humoring him the last few months took precedence.

--

Clark huffed a laugh.

“Talons?” One in the front asked.

“Nah we’re not talking about that shit with you two.” Clark said firmly.

No way.

--

…

Bruce found himself smiling a little.

Mentioning it had been a kind-of permission, but… he was glad it wasn't taken.

Clark kept their secrets.

“So,” he leaned forward onto the front chair again. “Clark said something about corn demons?”

--

“What?” Kenny said.

“What?” Clark said too, then paused. “Oh, there's uh, that hell gateway over in Stull I think I mentioned.” Clark said.

“Eh, people just like to bullshit about angry ghosts that come out around Halloween.” Pete said.

--

“Our murder rate just spikes on Halloween,” Bruce said. “Why’s it a hell gateway?”

Said the Jewish boy.

--

“I have no idea.” Clark admitted.

“Isn't Gotham like one of the biggest crime places in the US?” Pete asked.

--

“Recently, yeah,” Bruce said, keeping it steady.

--

“What's it like there?” Pete asked.

“Ever been stabbed?” Kenny followed.

“Jesus, guys.” Clark sighed.

--

“I would probably not be walking around so great if I'd been stabbed,” Bruce said flatly, thinking of the caning in school, and the dread Tommy and Harv had of going home, and grisly pictures on the front page.

“You two sound like you watch way too much tv.”

--

“They do.” Clark said flatly.

They pulled into the bowling alley.

It was… very empty. The inside only had two people in staff with the radio playing and an arcade tucked in the corner.

--

“Same show that told you we were supposed to be out partying when we just snuck out for ice cream?”

Bruce pulled out a handful of bills and handed them to Clark mostly out of habit.

He could probably actually… buy things here without being recognized, maybe. But habit still won this round.

--

Clark didn't mind, walking up and paying. “Absolutely.”

“Snuck out for ice cream?”

“Didn't think you could get any lamer, Clark.” Kenny chuckled.

--

...it did make him think, though. A connection he hadn't been able to make, but that he'd made sure to hold onto the pieces, just in case.

“...what they said earlier doesn't happen to have anything to with how easy scaling the wall was for you, right?”

--

Clark waited until they were away from other prying ears to answer.

“Um, yeah. I might've been kinda… flying. For that.”

--

Bruce turned and stared at him again.

“What?” He whispered back.

--

Clark cleared his throat as if embarrassed. “I can fly.”

--

Bruce is going to need a long time to work through all this.

But right now, he's compartmentalizing like a pro.

“...what else can you do?”

--

“Uh,” Clark mumbled as he tied his bowling shoes. “I can see through things. Like x-ray vision? And can hear really far. Like--”

He looked up and his eyes glowed blue. “I can see one of the employees back behind the counter picking his nose. And he's humming that really annoying country song that won't stop playing on the radio.”

--

There was something in that which nagged Bruce. Being watched without being able to tell. Being heard. But--

But he had something to soothe it, a little bit. And confirm.

“I can hear the humming, too,” he said.

Not as a challenge.

But.

He believed Clark.

This was something most people couldn't hear.

And if he could hear that, Bruce would also believe the sight.

--

Clark looked a little surprised, happy even.

“Really?” He smiled a little, like he suddenly felt less alone.

“And, uh, I try hard to not listen in on private conversations and stuff if it makes you feel better. I don't want to hear everything. It just happens. I have to focus to pay attention to what close.”

--

...the apology was fine, but the second part still kept him a little on guard.

“Like the teachers meeting with students after class,” he said, and trying to not think of how close some private discussions had been to Clark. “...how far away?”

--

Clark made a face as though the answer pained him.

“Miles. Like… three miles? More if I focus.”

--

...not even Bruce’s razor hearing did that.

He felt the knot in his chest tighten almost imperceptibly.

“...but you don't.”

--

“No. I try to ground myself and focus on what's next to me.” He got up to get a bowling ball. Picked out the heaviest one and twirled it in his hands idly like it didn't weigh a thing.

“I try to keep it to like… a few rooms away sort of hearing. That's the smallest I can get without having to strain myself.”

--

A few rooms away.

A few rooms away.

(Kisses don't make sounds, Bruce told himself, but all the same, felt his heart speed up a bit at the memory.)

“A few rooms clearly?” he said, watching how Clark spun the bowling ball as if it were just a basket ball, meant to be tossed around in the air.

He picked up his own ball to wait his turn. It was lighter. But it was still heavy in his lap.

--

Clark made a face again. Guilty.

“I… I can hear your heartbeat through walls, so. Yeah. Clearly.”

He looked at Bruce, apologetic.

“I'm-- I'm sorry.”

--

...that.

That was… too much.

He could only hear his own heartbeat in his ears and thundering in his chest, and it was too much for him.

But he couldn't have this conversation here.

He couldn't have it anywhere, maybe.

He couldn't think too hard on that, on his very heartbeat always being listened to, on the illusion of privacy, and the thought of--

He picked up his bowling ball, numb and dead to the world, and with no distractions and a mechanicalness to his movements, he rolled a strike.

They weren't talking about this anymore.

--

… Clark looked down, not saying a word as Kenny and Pete 'oooed’ over the strike and wrote it down.

They wouldn't bring it up again, talking about random things and trying to nudge Clark back into the conversation. But he didn't say much. He just… rolled his ball a little too fast a little too hard until he got the hang of it again.

And when it was over, no matter who won, they would drive the two back out to the farm.

--

Bruce kept up what amounted to polite conversation if he was pulled in.

He didn't remember who won.

He didn't remember what they said, or if he shook anyone’s hands as they dropped them off back at the Kent farm.

He wasn't as cold and detached as he'd been that morning, but he knew he was wading further from shore, and that he should pull himself back.

But he didn't want to do that around Clark right now.

Hot tea wouldn't pull back this.

--

When they pulled back into the farm Clark hung back at the car, if only for a minute.

…

“Thanks assholes, now he hates me.” He hissed and slammed the door a little too hard. It rocked the car and they yelled, but he didn't care.

He walked in behind Bruce and tried to tell his parents yes, they had fun, went bowling, tired now.

Up to his room.

--

….

Bruce followed.

Up to his room. Guest room. It wasn’t lavish or high quality, but it smelled a little dusty, like the manor, and he could choke on that a little and feel a bit better in the familiar prison of old and carefully preserved items.

‘Granny’ Clark had called it.

(Bruce’s grandparents had died by the time he was born. Parents married late by parents who married late by parents who married late.)

…

He managed to sit on the bed for a full five minutes, hands held carefully in each other and breathing slowly, heart steadying, before he locked it in place.

And he left the room, footsteps quiet as he could make them on the carpet, and went back downstairs.

[sunflowerim]

I LOVE YOU 3000!

-PART 11

Tuesday, 12:30P.M. BBC Recording Studio.

Louis had to basically drag himself to the studio. He tried to talk to Nick about switching him but it was of no avail. He just had to do it.

Harry would be here soon. Thankfully the show was gonna be pre-recorded. So, if he said something mean to Harry "accidentally", the world wouldn't know. Maybe the studio will, but who cares about that.

After a few minutes, Louis watched as Nick suddenly stood up and reached the glass door to greet someone. Probably Harry Styles.

Louis sighed. He couldn't really remember how Harry Styles looked. He hadn't paid much attention to the tweets concerning him and from the distance, he could just make out a tall figure who was shaking hands with everyone and speaking in a slow drawl.

He took deep breaths and braced himself for the worst. He watched as the tall figure slowly made his way towards him and suddenly Louis forgot to breathe.

Harry Styles was gorgeous with a capital G.

No. Fuck. No. Don't think about him like that. You're supposed to hate him. Louis chastised himself, all the while politely smiling at Harry and gesturing him towards a seat in front of him. This was gonna be a long interview.

Harry smiled softly at him and Louis released a breath he didn't realise he was holding.

"Hi, I'm Harry Styles", Harry said in his syrupy drawl as he extended his hand for Louis to shake.

And God Louis might just melt. No.

"Hi, I'm Louis Tomlinson", he managed to say in what he felt like was a confident voice.

"Nice to meet you".

Wish I could say the same. Louis bit back his tongue to stop himself from saying those words out loud. Instead he settled for, "shall we begin?"

Harry nodded and the crew around him started immediately.

"Hello and welcome to Tommo Tuesdays! I'm Louis Tomlinson and today we have among us, none other than Mr. Harry Styles!"

Ugh. He should have used nice adjectives.

Or maybe he did fine.

"So Harry, you've been nominated in the category of Academy Award for Best Actor for your movie 'My Policeman'. How do you feel about it?"

"Uhmm.. I'm really excited about it. I mean... I was already overwhelmed by the audience reaction to the movie and I couldn't believe when I got nominated. Everyone had worked so hard on the movie and I'm really proud of it".

"That's good to know. And how did your friends and family react to it. I mean we saw a lot of fan reactions, screaming and crying on social media. What about your personal life?"

"Haha my best friend bought a hundred pizzas to celebrate and it was just the two of us."

"No way."

"Yes!! And I guess you know him too. Niall Horan."

"Oh Niall!! Then I have no difficulty in believing that the two of you finished hundred pizzas haha.

So how do you balance your work life and personal life. I'm sure there must be a lot of pressure on you right now."

"Yes. I mean ofcourse there's gonna be pressure in every field. I'm sure you have your bad days too when you don't wanna come to the studio but you have to anyway because it's your job and you enjoy it very much. In the same way, the fans' reaction to my work, my family's pride in me and the satisfaction I get from working is just worth all the pressure".

Louis fidgeted in his seat. He'd lost Harry the moment he started talking about Louis not wanting to come to the studio and was just staring at him. Harry staring back at him jolted him back to reality. Yes. Interview. Focus Louis focus. Harry was just generalizing. He doesn't really know that you didn't wanna interview him.

"You're right. Now let's move on to the next segment shall we? The fans have a lot of question for you Mr. Styles. We selected a bunch of questions and I guess the fans would be really happy if you answered them"

"Sure. Ask away."

Louis stopped himself from fonding as he watched Harry say the last sentence while waving his hand in the air with a sweeping gesture. This is no time.

"So, Harry, , the fans want to know who your celebrity crush is."

"Ummm.. Jennifer Aniston."

"Ohh that's a good one, I love her."

"Who's yours? Is it me? Should I blush?"

And what the fuck. Was Harry flirting with him? No that couldn't be. Wasn't he straight?

He ignored the smirk playing on Harry's lips and tried to form a coherent sentence.

"Haha, sorry to burst your bubble but no. I have my heart set on David Beckham."

At that, Harry scrunched his nose and God help Louis.

"Proceeding to the next question. What's your favourite colour?"

"Your eyes."

"Excuse me?"

"You asked what my favourite colour is, so yeah. Your eyes."

If Louis wasn't sure before, he was now. This was blatant flirting.

Louis could feel his cheeks burning and he hoped it wasn't visible to anyone watching him. "Hah, I do have nice eyes. Thank you."

Harry smiled and Louis continued.

"What's your favourite Marvel movie and who's your favourite Marvel character?"

"Ummmm lemme think", Harry said and stroked his imaginary beard. "My favourite character would be Black Widow and favourite movie is Captain America: Civil War."

"Cool choices. On that note, tell us a bit about the upcoming movie."

"I think the trailer pretty much speaks for itself. The rest you have to find out in the theatres."

"Okay. We can be patient. So which actor are you dying to work with?"

"I think I'd like to work with Timothee Chalamet. His work in 'Call Me By Your Name' was exceptional."

"Yes, yes I did watch the movie. Amazing lad. Kay, next question-"

Louis didn't mean to but he started laughing. "So they wanna know what time you go to bed."

Harry joined in his laughter, saying "I'm sure they wanna know this so that they don't miss out stuff when I'm awake and they're asleep."

"I'm aware. You're infamous for dropping stuff when the fans are asleep." False. He wasn't aware. Nick had informed.

"Hahaha it's fun. But for real, I usually go to sleep at around 11, but my sleep time is never fixed during shoots."

"Do you read fanfictions?" Louis asked with a sly smile.

"I don't. I mean I tried, but I don't like how most writers portray me. Like I'm some womanizer, when I'm not."

At that, Louis' smile faltered. Because the Harry Styles he'd heard of was one. So many articles, so many pictures, it couldn't be all false.

"Well, maybe they're taking inspiration from all the articles about you. They're quite the deal breaker you know."

He expected Harry to snap at him but Harry just smiled. Which was somehow worse. "I can't go around telling people what they should think about me. So I've let it be."

Oh.

"Proceeding wi--"

"I have a question", Harry interrupted with a smile. The previous tension seemed to have left his body.

"Yes?"

"Do YOU write fanfictions?"

Louis could feel the air drain out of his lungs.

"NO, I don't have the time or talent for that", Louis replied as nonchalantly as he could manage.

"Aww so you've never written something about me I could read?"

Harry Styles needs to stop.

"Haha no, but if I ever come across good stories about you, I'll make sure to forward."

"I'd appreciate that."

Louis refused to think about how Harry's lips quirked upwards as he said it.

"Back to my questions, would you ever date a fan? Can they keep their hopes up?"

"I wouldn't necessarily date someone just because they're a fan you know but I won't mind if I started liking someone and they turned out to be a fan or someone who really likes my movies."

"That's good."

"I'm currently single by the way."

What the hell. Why would Louis need that information. He needs to talk to Zayn right fucking now. There's no way on earth the person sitting in front of him was straight.

"Good to know." And with that Louis shot him a winning smile. Two can play at this game.

"Would you ever date a celebrity Louis?"

Louis wanted to punch a wall.

"I would maybe, if they managed to sweep me off my feet haha."

"Good to know."

Louis had to finish the interview as soon as possible.

"Moving on, to the next question-", Louis paused. Do you like milk? Who asks that. Louis was gonna kill Nick for handing him these questions.

Louis quickly changed the question card, and went to see the next question. If anyone noticed, he didn't care.

"What fruit do you associate yourself with?

"I think avocados."

"What?"

"They're cute."

"Fucking avocados man. Sorry. Just bleep it out Nick."

"You don't like them?"

"Hate them."

"Oh, I think peaches are great too", Harry said with a smirk.

And no. Louis was gonna ignore the obvious innuendo behind Harry's answers. He'd had enough for one day.

"And that's all the fan questions for today. We hope you had a good time here."

"I sure did." The smirk was still there.

"Yeah, so would you like to tell your fans anything before you leave?"

"I'd just like to say that I love you all and I'm thankful to every single one of you who took time to watch my movie and pushed it to the top. I do hope you like the upcoming movie too. Thank you!"

Nick stepped in after that to talk to Harry and Louis took the chance to grab his stuff and leave. He couldn't risk staying longer.

PREVIOUS / NEXT

INTRO

[haravath0t]

The Spy’s Game - Prologue

Pairing: Noir Spy!Steve x Noir Spy!Reader

(inspired by the 1946 film, Notorious)

A/N: Well, here it is! The Prologue to “The Spy’s Game”! I am really excited for this one, you guys. As this is pretty based off of the film, Notorious, possibly my favorite Noir and Spy movie, I really look forward to mixing up my love for Old Hollywood film and the MCU into this fic, with none other than Steve Rogers himself.  I currently am still trying to see whether or not this is considered a mini-series or series yet, so let’s see where it goes. I am trying my best to have these updated on Saturdays! Honest opinions along with comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Happy readings, lovlies! 

Los Angeles, California - April 14,1946 - 3:23 PM

Ms. (L/N)! Over here, Ms. (L/N)! Can we get a statement from you about your father?” 

“Do you think your father got what he deserved for working with Hydra?” 

“Ms. (L/N)! Could we say that you are pleased to hear that your father has a life sentence in prison for treason?” 

You were blinded by the numerous amount of flashes directed towards you since you got out of the courthouse. Not a word was said from you as you made your way down the stairs amidst the chaos of photographers and reporters, clutching onto your bag. Your entourage guides you and covers you as you make your way to your car, looking down, not one word to anybody. 

Little did you know certain pairs of eyes were on you and that life had other expectations from you.

“That’s the woman we travelled across the country to see. I expect you to keep watch on her, Agent Rogers. See if she leaves town.”

—————-

A few days had passed since your father had been sentenced to prison, but the press was still onto you, trying their hardest to get a word from you. The policemen that followed you to your house was enough to take you and your father’s story to the front page, and you wanted to get away from the whole reality of it all. 

So, in your own fashion, you threw a little party for you and your inner circle of friends in the comfort of your home in LA, drunkenly laughing along with friends as you poured more liquor into their glasses. It was a chaotic yet joyous sight for you, for everyone seemed to be having a good time. Drunken conversations took place everywhere, from those slouching over the dining table in the kitchen to even the couples that were tipsy as they danced to records in the living room. You giggled as you sloppily poured more drinks for those in the living room. 

“Say, Y/N, were you really followed by the police? Read it on the paper. Sounds exciting doesn’t it?” A woman sloppily calls out from her partner’s shoulder.

“Ahh, those annoying policemen. They never...never got enough of me even before the trial.” You start, attempting to pour out another drink for another man sitting on the couch. 

“But I suppose the only way I’m gonna get rid of them is just by shooting it out,” you tease, causing drunken laughs to fill the living room. “I think you’ve drank enough, Y/N, I think we all did,” another woman calls out, you can’t even bother trying to remember who it was. “Ahh, don’t say that. We haven’t even gotten to the important drinks yet,” you tease reaching over to start a new record. Everybody was still having a good time, filled with dancing and laughs, at least that’s what it seemed like. 

You saw a quiet gentleman in the corner, a mysterious, tall, burly looking man sitting by himself on the couch, watching everyone else. When did he come in? Why did he look so dashing? Well, he’s a guest, and might as well entertain the blond gentleman. His suit perfectly fit his form, a neatly done bowtie wrapped nicely around his neck and under his neat collar, but the poor man didn’t seem to have drank enough yet. You can change that.

“How about you, handsome? Care for a drink?” You ask, leaning against the armrest of the couch with the bottle of liquor on your other hand. He only stares at her with those blue eyes and nods, extending his empty glass to you, watching you as you poured. “Have we met, by any chance?” You question drunkenly. 

No response. 

So you shrug and sway your hips before sitting down next to him, observing him up close. “Hmph… doesn’t matter. I like party crashers.” 

“Oh, he’s not a party crasher, I brought him,” The woman from earlier said. Oh right, Missy was her name. “You know, Y/N. I really don’t mind if a cop had followed me,” Missy shrugs, deciding to get the bottle from you to pour herself a drink. You groaned in frustration. “I hate how normal people like you like the thought of policemen after you, whereas me, get the opposite, You know I’m a marked woman, Missy. They think I am gonna blow up New York or the Panama Canal any minute.” More and more talk came up about the trial, about the cops and you frankly couldn’t take it anymore, so you decided to cut it short, ushering the guests out, wishing them a goodnight as you do your best in your drunken state to escort them out. What a perfectly hideous party.

You close the door, to find your home now all empty, except for the tall blond guy who still sat on the same couch. A little smirk and a chuckle leaves your lips as you restart the record, turning around to see a bottle in the gentleman’s hand and two empty glasses on the table. 

“This drink hasn’t been finished yet. Such a shame, about the ice I mean.” He says, pouring the drink in the two glasses. What an interesting conversation already. 

“What do you mean?” You ask sitting on the couch across from him and taking your glass. 

“It’s gone.” 

“Who’s gone?” 

“The ice,” he says, grunting as he stands up to turn the obnoxious record that has been on repeat for hours off, making you groan in frustration. You just restarted it too. “I don’t get why you even like that record.” He huffs, taking his seat once again to take a sip. “Well, there’s nothing like a love song to give you a good laugh, you retort, taking a gulp of your glass. You liked this guy. Although you didn’t know much about the guy, it wasn’t hard to see that he was handsome despite the fact that he didn’t mingle with the crowd earlier. Your thoughts were cut off by the warmth you felt. “It’s stuffy in here.” You groan, downing the rest of your glass.

“Sure.” 

“Hmmm I am taking a liking to you. Maybe we can have a picnic.” 

“Outside?” 

“Too stuffy in here for a picnic...how are you not finishing your drink?” 

“Doesn’t do much to me, but I do like to practice some self-restraint.”

“What a boy you are,” you scoff, getting his drink and downing the rest of it before you stand up.

“My car is umm.. Outside.”

“Well I’d hope so.”

“Picnic is too much… a drive will do.”

“Fine by me.”

“I’ll drive,” You say as you lazily snatch your keys, struggling to reach for the door, but he stops you. “You need a coat, don’t you? Best if I drive as well.”

You didn’t want this guy telling you what to do. He barely even knew you. “I think you being next to me while I drive is enough warmth.” You huff as you manage to find your way to your convertible. Before you hop in, the gentleman stops you, taking his handkerchief from his pocket and tying it nicely around your collar and opening the door for you. “At least wear this then, will you?” You really just wanted this guy to stop treating you like a delicate little flower. You were getting annoyed by the second. So you drive, despite the fact that this road seemed to just go all over the place in your eyes. The car didn’t go fast enough, you thought to yourself, so you step on the gas, watching his reaction. “You don’t get scared easily do you?” You huff in annoyance. “Not too much,” he replies, although he leaves his hand on the emergency brake should something go wrong. You really intrigued him, quite enjoying himself with the way you try desperately to outdo him, and you on the other hand hated it. “65,” you huff as you look at your speedometer, only to hear the blond chuckle at your words. “Shut up. I can go 80. 85 even. Gonna make that smile go away as quickly as it came. Hate it when men like you do that to me.” You growl, stepping on the gas even harder, but it still didn’t phase the man, only watching him shrug, grin still on his face. “Can’t a guy grin?” He shrugs, smiling more when sirens are heard, adjusting the rear view mirror and taking on the wheel to pull you both over. “Look. A cop. Look at that mirror. Look.” He says, making you whine in frustration for the nth time. 

The car was still going at a fast speed, but still, the policeman was able to ride on its motorcycle towards the vehicle, right beside you. You didn’t do much but glare at them. “Listen, ma’am I think you gotta talk to that cop.” The blond chuckles, watching as you rolled your eyes. “Hate cops. The bunch makes me sick. Here we go. Drunken driving. Second offense. Now I go to jail. Along with my fucking father. Would you look at that? The entire family is in jail. What are the odds of that? Not that it matters anyway.” You mutter to yourself, annoyed as you made yourself slow down and pull over. You quickly quiet yourself as the cop hops off his motorcycle, now standing next to your side of the car. “Having a time for yourself, huh? Wanting more press, L/N?”

“You know you should be in bed. It’s late for fucks sake.” 

The policeman sighs, now talking to the gentleman next to you. “Drunk?” “Now wait a second officer,” the blond responds, digging into his pocket. “I don’t have time for your excuses sir, I-” the officer’s words cut off when he sees the identification from the man. You eye the officer, as he stops and sighs. “Sorry, if you said so earlier, I wouldn’t have pressed on.” The police officer grunts. “No trouble at all, officer. I got it under control.” The blond responds back. 

You get confused as you watch the cop salute the gentleman next to you before riding off in the distance, making you look at what the gentleman was holding, trying your hardest to focus your vision, until it does. And your eyes widen before they turn into ones of anger and disbelief. “Where’s the ticket? I should have gotten one. Tell me your name.” You tell the man angrily, as he returns the item to his pocket. 

“Rogers.”

“You showed him a badge didn’t you? That’s why he saluted you and went off!” 

“I don’t think so.” “You son of a bitch! You’re a fucking bastard!” You say, throwing punches in anger while he effortlessly blocks them. “We can argue later. I’ll drive us back, Miss L/N.” 

“No you won’t! Can’t believe it! A fucking federal agent! Crashing my party! You want something from me!” You continue to fight, him only blocking your punches until you suddenly calm down. “Good. Calm? Okay, I’ll take you back hom-” You started throwing punches again, a little off, but still powerful despite your drunken state. “No, you’re not, the only way you will is through knocking me unconscious! But you do know the way I work don’t you? You know how har-”

“Don’t make me do this.” Steve groans as he dodges and blocks. 

“Hard it is to get by me you hear?! You’ve heard of how-” Your rambled monologue gets cut off when he manages to lift you up and push you towards the passenger’s side, knocking you out in the process by your head accidentally banging against the headrest. Steve winced a bit, but sighed in relief when you didn’t thrash at him anymore, only breathing in and out steadily as he now takes the wheel and makes his way back home. “Really, Fury? Agent L/N? Daughter of Dr. L/N? A member of hydra? Give me a break, Steve scoffs as he turns off the engine, carefully carrying your body to your bedroom until you wake up.

Chapter 1

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[fanmoose12]

Partners

Characters: Petra Ral, Levi, Hanji Zoe x Levi Genre: Action / Mystery / Romance Rating: T

Detective!au

Summary: when Petra was promoted to a detective and partnered up with legendary Levi Ackerman, she felt like the happiest person in the world.

But, as she soon found out, detective Ackerman she used to admire so much was actually a far cry from the ideal policeman Petra thought he was. He was rude, harsh and easily annoyed. And, in addition, he still hadn’t moved on from the death of his previous partner - detective Hange Zoe.

Chapter 4/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Сhapter 3

Petra was standing in front of a coffee machine, trying to choose between latte and cappuccino. She almost pressed on a button with latte written on it, when a hand, which fell heavily on her shoulder, stopped her.

"Goodness, don't even think of buying coffee there!"

Startled, Petra whirled around. She gasped as she saw Captain Erwin standing in front of her.

"Am I... not allowed to buy coffee here?"

Was there some unspoken rule that newly promoted detectives couldn't take coffee from the precinct's coffee machine? Was she overstepping some line?

For a second, Captain Erwin's eyebrows drew together in confusion. But then his lips curved into a smile, as he let out a soft chuckle.

"Oh no, no, of course, you're allowed to order coffee there," he assured her. "But you really shouldn't. In Levi's words," he scowled, trying to mimic Levi's annoyed expression. Petra couldn't resist a giggle - Captain Erwin's impression was spot on. "It tastes worse than horse's piss."

Petra covered her mouth with two hands, stifling her laughter.

Captain raised his arms in a placating gesture. "His words, not mine. But it's truly awful. C'mon," he turned around and started walking, beckoning Petra to do the same. "I'll make you a better one."

***

As Captain was busy with preparing coffee, Petra couldn’t help, but look around his office. The office wasn’t big or spacious, but it was brightly lit and tidy. There wasn’t much inside, only a bookshelf, filled with case files and diplomas, a small leather coach and simple wooden desk. The desk, for some reason, attracted the most of Petra’s attention. It didn’t look different from her own, the same computer model, the same table lamp, however… there was a photo frame standing beside computer screen. She couldn’t see, who was pictured there, but she found it curious and a little strange nevertheless. She would have never guessed that Captain had a family. He didn’t seem the type.  

"Here you go," Erwin placed a cup in front of Petra. She took it with two hands, lifting it up and inhaling a deep, bitter aroma. It smelled perfect. She brought it to her lips, taking a first sip. Oh. Not only it smelled perfect, it tasted perfect too. She couldn't keep in a small moan of satisfaction that escaped her lips, as the hot liquid made its way down her throat.

Erwin watched her with amused eyes.  

"Thank you," Petra smiled sheepishly, blushing slightly, as she put the cup down. "It's the best coffee I've had in weeks."

"My pleasure," Erwin smiled back, drinking from his own cup.

Petra fidgeted. Captain’s expression was relaxed, but those bright blue eyes were so intense, she felt like he was staring into her soul. Why did he even call her there? Surely not just for coffee.

"C-captain?" Petra gripped the cup in her hands tighter. "Did you invite me there for any particular reason?"

"I wanted you to enjoy a nice cup of coffee," Erwin put the cup down and rested his chin on top of his hands. His eyes stared at her, following the smallest of her moves. "And to talk with you. How is the case going?"

"Um..." Petra swallowed, feeling uneasy. "It's, um, going."

Erwin slightly raised his eyebrow, but didn't push the matter further.

“Levi asked for a day-off tomorrow,” he said. “Would you be able to hold on without him? I know you’ve just been promoted a—”

“No, it’s fine!” Petra assured him eagerly. Of course, the prospect of surviving the shift without her more experienced partner was a more than a little worrying. But after what she had seen today in the interrogation room, maybe, it was for the best if Levi spent some time at home.

"Speaking of Levi,” Erwin began. “Does he give you any trouble?"

"Of course, not!" Petra exclaimed with way too much vigor.

Erwin smirked, raising an eyebrow higher. "Is that really so?"

Petra deflated, casting her eyes down. "Detective Levi is a great professional and I—"

"Petra," Erwin cut her off. "Levi won't get in trouble with me, don't worry. I'm asking as his friend, not as his superior."

"As his friend..." Petra whispered.

"Yes," Erwin nodded. "So if there's something I should know, please tell me. God knows, Levi would never tell me if something bothered him."

"I..." Petra nervously tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I think you should take him off this case. It's clearly too personal for Levi."

"Hm, maybe, you're right," Erwin scratched his chin. "I knew that appointing him to this case would cause some problems..."

"Then why did you? Give him this case?"

Erwin shrugged. "I wanted to see his reaction. To see if he had truly moved on from Hange's death."

That was... that was heartless. But as she stared at Captain's face, she didn't see the cold calculation or simple indifference in his eyes. Only uncertainty and worry. Maybe, it was his weird way of caring about his friend.

"You knew from the beginning, right?" she asked quietly. "That this case would involve detective Zoe?"

"I had a feeling," Erwin agreed. "The murder happened in the same apartment complex she used to live in, after all. Hardly could be a coincidence."

Right... so that's why the witness had recognized Levi. Did he really share an apartment with his partner?

"Forgive my bluntness...” she cleared her throat, gathering all of her courage to maintain a direct eye contact with Captain. “But what was the nature of Levi and detective Zoe's relationship?"

"They were partners," Erwin answered, his jaw set. "In every possible sense of that word.”

“Oh,” if before Petra’s cheeks were rosy, now they turned almost crimson read. She felt stupid for asking such a personal question. Clearly, her partner wasn’t the only one, who was still affected by detective Zoe’s death. “I shouldn’t have asked, I’m so sorry…”

“It’s nothing,” Erwin waved her off. “Levi isn’t the most open of people, so I understand the desire to… get to know him better.”

Petra nodded, although Captain’s words didn’t really help her understand anything. It also didn’t really make Levi’s story any clearer. She still couldn’t piece together what kind of bound existed between Levi and detective Zoe. They clearly were much more than just colleagues. Definitely more than just friends, too. Maybe, they were dating? Or even married? There were many ways in which the world ‘partner’ could be interpreted. Maybe, that’s exactly why Captain Erwin used it.

"By the way, did you finish questioning the witness?" Erwin asked, bringing her back to the present.

"We did," Petra replied, avoiding his gaze. The recent incident in the interrogation room still hung heavily over her head.

"I assume it didn't go that well," Erwin noted.

Petra sighed. "The man that the witness described.... Didn't fit the description of Zeke Yeager."

Erwin covered his eyes with a hand. "So he really is pursuing that theory..." he glanced up at Petra. "What was the description given to you by the witness?"

"Um, according to him, the killer is a tall man with brown and curly hair."

"And what makes you think he described a killer?"

"Huh?"

Erwin straightened out. "Are you absolutely sure that the man that the witness saw was a killer?"

"He went with the victim to her apartment..."

"But we can't know for sure if he was the one to kill her," Erwin said resolutely. "Did the witness say how that man left the building?"

"He finished his shift earlier," Petra answered, feeling more and more confused with each passing moment. “Do you think that someone else killed her?”

“I’m not stating anything,” Erwin replied, evasive as always. “I’m just saying that you can’t be too sure in any of your theories until you actually get some evidence. It narrows your scope.”

“A-aha,” now Petra got it. “Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains must be the truth and all that, right?”

“Yes,” Erwin smiled widely. “Remember these words and you’ll do great at your job.”

“Thank you for the advice,” Petra smiled briefly, before furrowing her eyebrows. Something in Erwin’s words bothered her. Could it be that…

“Captain, do you… do you also think that it was Zeke Yeager, who killed that woman?”

Erwin didn’t answer immediately.

“I know it seems weird for you,” he began with self-deprecating smile. “And I know that Levi may seem like he’s obsessed with catching Zeke, and, maybe, he really is, but… You didn’t know Zeke. He was smart. Very smart. And he liked playing with people. I’m not saying that he’s alive, I’ve seen evidence that very much proved the opposite, but the fact that he’s somewhat involved in that murder is certain. The glasses belonged to Hange, and the blood was hers too. Who else could have gotten it? It’s either one of Zeke’s henchmen, maybe, someone, who seeks revenge for his death, or…” he trailed off, shrugging.

“But the description didn’t match!” Petra tried to argue.

“Wigs exist,” Erwin said simply.

Petra hanged her head. She wanted to protest, wanted to come up with some argument that would destroy this whole outlandish theory. Unfortunately, if Levi and Erwin kept overlooking one small fact that Zeke had died two years ago, she doubted there was anything that would be able to dissuade them.

“Oh, shoot!” Erwin suddenly exclaimed, glancing at his wrist watch. “I’m almost late to a very important meeting!” he got to his feet, gathering the papers on his desk. “Thank you for the company, Petra.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” she smiled prettily, even though her head was still reeling from their conversation.

“Good luck with your case,” Erwin said, as he followed Petra out of his office. “And look over Levi for me, okay? If anything happens, you know where to find me.”

He gave her one last smile and then hurried away. Petra stared at his wide back for a second, and then she pulled herself together, turning around and heading towards her office.

It was about time she got some actual work done.

***

To her surprise, when Petra had entered their office, it turned out that Levi wasn't there. She glanced to the side, his coat wasn't hanging on the clothes rack. However... his computer was on, the screen burning brightly in the otherwise dark room.

Petra couldn't take her eyes off that computer. She remembered her first day at work (it seemed almost surreal that it was only yesterday, it felt like weeks has passed) and how Levi was so focused on his computer, as though whatever was on his screen was the most important thing in the world. She remembered her desire to find out what was he working on.

She stepped further into the room, wondering where Levi was right now. He promised Moblit he'd visit the forensics department, maybe, he was there? But why would he need his coat for? And why didn't he turn off his computer?

Petra took another step, her eyes darting to the desk next to Levi's. Detective Zoe's desk. It was a little different than yesterday.

There was... There was a pair of glasses lying atop one of the reports. The same glasses they found on the scene of crime, Petra realized, as she saw a crack running through the left lens. But the blood was gone. Whoever cleaned them, did a real good job. Petra had a feeling she knew one particular person, who liked keeping things clean and tidy.

She felt a lump form inside her throat. Two years had passed, and Levi still didn't give up on her, hoping that one day she would come back. Petra couldn't decide if she should admire his loyalty or pity his naivety.

Either way, she hurriedly turned away from that desk. It made her feel melancholic and more than a little depressed.

If the glasses were there, it meant that Levi had already visited Moblit and his team. Where was he now? How much time did she have?

Glancing back, as if to check that Levi wasn't coming back this instant, Petra took a deep breath. And then she swiftly sat down at his desk.

Moving the cursor, she studied his desktop. There wasn’t much on it, just a few folders. She ignored the ones with the obvious contents – the ones named ‘cases’ and ‘reports’. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she saw the folder with a name ‘that fucking asshole’, she almost clicked on it, but then she saw another folder. This one was named ‘Sannes’, and Petra’s breath hitched, as she remembered Levi asking her about him. Could it be… could it be that this folder contained some evidence? The one that could back up Levi’s claim about Sannes’ involvement with criminal underworld? Feeling her pulse fasten, Petra opened the folder.

Well, she tried to open it, because as soon as she clicked on the folder, a new tab opened, requesting a password.

She cursed.

Petra tipped her head back, thinking. What could a man like Levi use as his password?

She typed four zeros and then pressed enter.

‘The password is incorrect. Please try again.’

Of course, it was too naïve to hope that Levi would use something as generic as this. But Petra wasn’t going to give up so soon. She opened the first drawer of his desk, trying to find something that would give her some sort of idea. Petra grinned as she found the old driver license. It was expired, but in the corner Levi’s birth date was written.

Bingo.

She quickly wrote the numbers and pressed enter, her hands slightly trembling in anticipation of seeing what was inside that folder.

‘The password is incorrect. Please try again.’

Shit. Closing the first drawer, she opened the second. She rummaged through it for a couple of moments, but found nothing, except old autopsy and ballistic reports. Petra groaned – she was starting to get desperate. She closed the second drawer with more force than was necessary, opening the third one. The last one.

It was empty, except— Except an old, tattered photo. Three people were pictured there – Petra immediately recognized Captain Erwin and Levi, even though they looked much younger. A bespectacled woman stood between them, her hands wrapped around both of their shoulders. It must be detective Zoe, Petra guessed, looking at the woman’s wide grin. Detective Zoe wasn’t the only one smiling – there was a delighted beam on Captain Erwin’s lips as well, and even Levi, as weird as it looked, was wearing a small, but satisfied smile.

They looked so joyous here, so… so happy. And now one of them was dead, and two others suffered heavily because of that loss.

She turned the photo around. There was something written on the other side.

The only time, when your face didn’t look so constipated, shorty! Keep it as a reminder

“Shorty?” Petra gasped, rereading the small note again. She would never dare to call Levi like that. Most people probably wouldn’t. Hange Zoe was clearly an exception. And it was obvious that Levi took her advice of keeping the photo to heart, the picture looked worn out, as though it was frequently held and looked at.

Shaking head, she tried to regain her focus. She didn’t come here to go through Levi’s stuff. Well, technically, that was exactly what she was doing right now, but she really didn’t mean to pry into his personal life. She did it more than enough today. She needed to guess his password, and, unfortunately, that photo didn’t help her in the least.

But what if…

Biting her lip, Petra bent over the keyboard. She almost finished typing ‘HangeZoe’, when the door handle began to rattle.

Petra jumped in her seat, frantically closing the password window on the screen and hiding the photo back inside the drawer. She wasn’t quick enough to get to her feet, though, the door began to open, as Petra erratically tried to think of some excuse to explain, what she was doing behind Levi’s desk, but nothing was good enough. She could quite clearly picture his furious expression, she already wanted to start apologizing, but then the door was opened completely.

And Petra saw Oluo, standing on the threshold.

“Goddamn it!” she cried out, heart still thumping way too loudly inside her chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”

Oluo frowned. “I have never heard you curse before. And, by the way, isn’t that detective Ackerman’s desk?”

“What are you doing here?” she asked instead, ignoring his last question.

Oluo rolled his eyes arrogantly, all signs of his previous suspicion gone. Petra felt warmth spread through her chest at the sight of his annoying face. Never would she guess, but she missed Oluo terribly.

“Someone wants to see you,” he replied, leaning against the wall. “So finish whatever you were doing at detective Ackerman’s desk and let’s go.”

“Someone?” Petra blinked in surprise. “Who?”

“Djel Sannes,” Oluo told her with puffed out chest. He was clearly proud to receive a command from such important man. “Deputy police chief.”

The folder at Levi’s computer immediately appeared in Petra’s mind. She couldn’t open it and see, what his partner found so suspicious about that man. But, maybe, she could investigate it herself.

She got to her feet, adjusting her blouse and skirt.

“Let’s go then,” she joined Oluo at the doorstep. “Can’t make him wait, right?”

 ***

As they were walking through the precinct’s corridors, Oluo didn’t take his eyes off her even for a second.

“Do I have something on my face?” Petra snapped, feeling uneasy under his gaze.

Oluo hurriedly looked away, his cheeks reddening ever so slightly. “No, of course, you don’t.”

“Then what’s the matter? You’ve been staring at me like I’ve grown a second head or something.”

“You look just fine,” Oluo huffed, still refusing to meet her eyes. “It’s just… you’ve changed.”

“Changed?” Petra let out a surprised chuckle. “People don’t change over a day, dummy.”

“Maybe, change isn’t the right word then, but…” he scowled, annoyed with his inability to express himself clearly. “You carry yourself with more confidence now and at the same time… you look more troubled than I’ve ever seen you.”

Well, she wasn’t sure about her newfound confidence, she felt nothing of the sort, but troubled? That was a vast understatement.

“A lot of stuff happened over these two days.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Oluo’s soft voice caught her off-guard. Petra glanced at him. Oluo was looking back. There was no amusement in his eyes, and his usual smirk was absent as well. He genuinely wanted to help her, Petra realized with a start.

“Yes,” she answered him after a moment, “I would love to talk about it,” she paused, staring straight in Oluo’s eyes. “With you.”

“Oh,” Oluo stopped abruptly, nearly colliding with someone. Petra giggled into her palm. He looked so flabbergasted. To Oluo’s credit, however, it took him only a few seconds to regain his posture. “I k-know a place!” he exclaimed loudly. “I found a new restaurant near the precinct, the food is delicious and it’s really nice p—”

“Alright,” Petra cut him off, still chuckling. “Let’s visit it tomorrow evening. If that works for you?”

“O-of course!”

“Great,” she patted his shoulder, before leaning in to press her lips to his cheek. “Then it’s a date,” she whispered into Oluo’s ear, before walking away, leaving him to stare after her with a dazed smile on his face.

Petra turned the corner and there it was. The door to Djel Sannes’ office. It looked the same as all doors in precinct looked – a sturdy, wooden door. Nothing unusual about it, and yet— and yet Petra’s palms were sweaty. Her heart was beating faster than usual too. Logically, she knew there was nothing to be afraid of, it was just a visit to her superior’s office. She talked with Captain Erwin earlier, and it wasn’t nerve-wracking at all. She would even call it pleasant. And she wasn’t even sure, if there was something wrong with deputy police chief, she had never met him after all. The only thing she knew is that Levi didn’t trust him, but Levi also believed that people, who had died two years ago in the explosion, were alive. His opinion clearly wasn’t the most reliable.

She just needed to get a grip on herself. What had Oluo said to her? She carried herself with more confidence? Well, maybe, the time has come to prove it.

Petra took a deep, calming breath and raised her hand, knocking on the door.

“Come in!” came a deep, booming voice from the other side of the door.

Petra took another breath, and then. She walked in.  

***

Deputy police chief’s office, as it turned out, wasn’t much different from Captain Erwin’s. It was a little bigger and his desk was a little fancier, but otherwise it was the same type of office every high-ranked policemen had.

Djel Sannes himself didn’t look as scary as Petra imagined. He looked kind of plain, actually. He was a middle aged man with wide shoulders, neat haircut and clean-shaved face. There were more than a hundred men like him in their precinct.

Petra’s heart rate slowed down a little.

“Detective Ral!” Sannes spread his hands in a welcoming gesture. “I was waiting for you!”

Petra put on a polite smile, sitting down on the opposite side of his desk. “It is an honor, sir. Do you wish to discuss something?”

“Just welcome you on your new position. You’ve been a detective for…”

“Two days,” Petra answered.

“Exactly!” Sannes snapped his fingers. “And we’re seeing each other only now,” he cocked his head to the side, looking at Petra. His expression was still easy, friendly, but his eyes became sharper. Colder. “You’ve been busy, I’ve heard.”

“We were appointed a new case tonight,” Petra nodded, pointedly ignoring the sudden change in Sannes. It was probably her nerves getting to her.

“Yes, a woman was murdered. Do you have any clue who had done it?”

“We are working on it.” Petra said with much more confidence than she actually felt.

“Good, good,” her false bravado had either gone unnoticed by Sannes, or he simply didn’t care enough to call her out on it. “And what about your partner? Detective Ackerman?”

“Um… what about him?”

“I know that man,” Sannes said offhandedly. “To put it mildly… he’s not the easiest person to deal with. Is he bothering you? If he is, don’t hesitate to tell me, I’ll appoint a new partner for you.”

“No, no,” Petra waved her hands. “Detective Ackerman is a very skilled detective. I like working with him.”

Sannes gave her a very skeptic look. “Is that really so? I find it hard to believe, actually.”

He reached over to the drawer, opening it and taking out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply and sitting back in a chair.

“Do you smoke?” he asked Petra, offering her a cigarette.

She silently shook her head. Smoking inside the precinct was prohibited. But obviously Petra decided not to say it out loud.

“I should have fired that man a long time ago,” Sannes took another drag. “I would have done it, if Smith wasn’t so overprotective of him. He always had a soft spot for Ackerman. For him and that partner of his. Surely you’ve heard about her already?” he glanced at Petra, shaking out the ash into the ashtray. “Detective Hange Zoe,” the distain in his voice was so clear, Petra felt uncomfortable. “Between you and me, that woman got what she deserved. She was hot-headed and reckless, and in the end, that’s exactly what had gotten her killed.”

Petra wondered if Sannes had ever shared his thoughts on the matter with Levi. Sannes’ nose didn’t look like it was ever broken and Levi still worked as a detective, so she guessed they never had that particular conversation.

“But you’re not like them,” Sannes said. “You’re not a scheming bastard like Smith, you don’t put your nose where it doesn’t belong to like that Zoe did, and obviously you’re not a psychopath like Ackerman. I like you, Ral,” he grinned approvingly. “We should work together.”

“T-together?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “You help me and I help you.”

Petra honestly couldn’t believe her ears. So Levi was right after all. Although, she still had not even a hint of his connection to criminals, there was no doubt that Djel Sannes, deputy police chief, was a corrupt and malicious man. And it meant that Petra had to choose her words very, very carefully. She couldn’t let him know that she wasn’t on his side.

“And… what do you need my help with, sir?”

“Oh, not much,” Sannes put out his cigarette, the smug smile still present on his face. “Just keep an eye on your partner. If he does something suspicious… well,” he let out a small chuckle. “You know where to find me.”

“That I do,” Petra nodded with a smile she put on to mask her disgust. “Is that everything you’ve wanted to talk about?”

“Yes, that’s all,” he waved his hand carelessly. “You may go, but,” he gave Petra another careful look. “I’ll be expecting to hear from you, Ral.”

“Of course, sir,” she raised to her feet. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”

It was only when Petra was inside her office that she could finally breathe out in relief. With each passing hour, her life was getting more and more complicated. She would never expect deputy police chief to ask her to spy on her partner.

Speaking of which… where was Levi? She hadn’t seen him all day.

Petra’s eyes darted to his computer, but she quickly changed her mind. She had more than enough revelations for one day. She was tired to the bone, too. She glanced at the clock – it was already past six, which meant her shift was finally over.

Grabbing her bag and coat, Petra hurriedly left the precinct. She had a crazy day.

And something told her – tomorrow would be no better.