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OKAY EVERYONE STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING TO LOOK AT THIS PERFECTION RIGHT THERE!

If you don't, I will steal your kneecaps and eat them <3

MY baby has started this amazing series and EVEN if you're not a Metallica fan I SWEAR YOU WILL LOVE IT.

Please her writing is so smooth and so evocative and so vivid and HER DIALOGUES ARE INSANE. The chemistry between the MC and Jason is TO DIE FOR. And the story IS SO DAMN INTERESTING.

There, you have no reason to skip now, and every reason to give it a try (and stick around) <3

gift wrapper // jason newsted x reader 1.1

read it on ao3. content: detective!jason newsted. detective!reader. police!au. slow burn. warnings: other additional tags to be added. murder mystery. blood and gore. body horror. strangers to lovers. eventual smut. ptsd. gunshot wounds. plot armor. non-con elements. idiots in love. panic attacks. medical inaccuracies. inaccurate police procedures. thriller. mutual pining. the author has adhd.

January 31, 2011, Monday. 08:23 AM 

It was a cold but sunny Monday in Seattle.

You drove with your eyes on the lane, a song from the CD you mixed before hitting the road playing in your speakers, on your tongue, and your hands tapping out the rhythm on the wheel throughout Washington. The sun shone through the windshield, making you squint even through the lowered sun visor. You never expected Seattle to be this sunny on a cold winter day. You took your sunglasses sitting on the passenger seat and took a right turn.

You were a homicide detective, even if it was in a different state. You had concerns— everybody for the first couple of weeks, or months (maybe even years), could act like you were a rookie detective, regardless of your experience back in Boston. Even the person they were going to pair you up with. The jokes, pranks, and constant bullying were bound to happen. You hoped they weren’t as bad as the ones back in Boston.

You pulled over in front of the department, AC/DC wasn’t filling the space anymore. You looked around and listened for a while with your eyes closed. Seagulls, traffic, people, ships from a distance… So different from Boston . Everything felt almost the same, even the weather for fuck’s sake! I might as well have kept living there.

You grabbed a pack of Marlboro, a lighter from the glovebox and your jacket from the passenger seat sitting on top of a small box. You had filled it with your stuff; some files, a succulent, and a couple of pictures of your cat, thinking you might put them on your desk were they to give you one. You wore your jacket, felt the Boston PD badge sitting in your inner pocket, your gun in your hip, and put the cigarettes and the lighter in your left pocket before heading out. 

God , it was cold.

An officer escorted you down the hallway after you had introduced yourself to the front desk while unfamiliar faces observed you; some nosy, some curious, and some condescending. Not an unusual sight for a cop, especially a female one, feeling like a fish out of water really, but except this time, this wasn’t the first tank you were put in. So when you reached the lieutenant’s door, you turned around to look at them from your corner. 

It was their time to be observed.

He knocked and opened the door. “Lieutenant, it’s Detective Hunter from Boston PD.”

“Let her in.”

A pair of eyes found your figure when you walked in. Short, curly auburn hair he brushed back neatly, he had silver eyes with a blue hue. He was wearing a black sweatshirt that said Sepultura , and skinny black jeans. A big silver ring was decorating his right pinky finger and a digital watch on his left wrist. He had the demeanor of a cop yet you wondered if he was something else. Yet, you saw his gun on the right side of his hips and his unnecessarily thick back pocket. A regular wallet wouldn’t be this big without a badge. 

He was sitting with his elbows on his knees in front of a big desk with a man behind it. There were files and papers scattered on the desk that you assumed belonged to a murder. Some trophies, awards and medals behind him . The guy behind the desk gestured for you to sit on the chair in front of the desk. 

“Please sit.”

As you sat down, the curly-haired guy stood up and spoke. “Lou,” His voice was smooth, warm . He sounded shy yet so sure of himself, you wondered how he managed to speak with a tone like that. “Do you want me to leave?”

“You stay, Newsted.” Lou kept his eyes on you, Newsted sat back down. You figured you wouldn’t mind him staying here during the ‘welcome ceremony’. “Lieutenant Donovan,” he offered you his hand. “Donovan Beckett.”

“Detective Jason Newsted,” curly guy, too, offered his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

So, he was a detective.  

“Detective Perle Hunter,” you introduced yourself to both, shaking their hands. “Thank you for having me.”

Beckett smiled while opening one of the files in front of him. “Unusual spelling,” he spoke. You faintly saw your picture in the file. “Your resume doesn’t mention you speaking French.”

“Désolée,” you confessed with an awful accent, shaking your head. “My grandmother lived in France for eleven years. Hence the name.”

“It’s okay, we don’t need French in Seattle.” You forced a smile on his words. He leaned down toward the right side of the table, you heard a drawer opening and he rose back up with a golden badge and an ID card in his hand. “Here,” he glided them across the desk and you caught them. “You can return your previous ones to the front desk. They’ll take them to the county.”

You took the ID, it felt heavy in your hands, different. Seattle Police Dept , it said with your name, title, picture, and signature aside from other not-so-important details like the expiration date. You swiped your thumb over it before taking your wallet out to replace your Boston PD card with the new one. It felt odd. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Newsted sent a lopsided smile your way. “Welcome to Seattle PD.”

You returned his smile, and put your wallet back in its place. “Thanks.”

Beckett leaned back into his chair. “Did you find a place to live already?”

You felt Newsted’s gaze on you. Now, you did mind him staying here. “Yes, sir.” You avoided his eyes and kept yours on the Lou. “I, uh, found an apartment downtown. Not so far from the station.”

“Good, good.” He then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. When did you get here?”

“Saturday, sir.”

He shook a hand. “No need for formalities.” You smiled apologeticly and he continued. “I don’t wish to go hard on you after what you have been through–”

You interrupted. Maybe you could avoid the personal questions. “When can I start working on the case?” 

Rich laughs from both sides filled your ears. You forced a laugh as well.

“Eager, aren't you?” The laughs faded out and Beckett closed your file and took one of the pictures scattered around the desk. “Alright.” He showed the pictures of a woman’s head. “This is the girl we found today.”

You took the picture to inspect it further. The blonde woman had cloudy blue eyes and fair skin. Her eyes and mouth were open. Her head was sitting inside a pretty pink box next to an ID card and a slide phone. She was wrapped with a fuchsia, shiny ribbon, it was tied in a bow. Her makeup was done haphazardly, the person had no idea about what they were doing. Wrong shade of foundation, too much mascara, cheap blue eyeshadow, and red lipstick. Her long, curly hair was tied in a ponytail. 

The killer made the effort.

“Port Patrol found her this morning at dawn,” you heard Newsted’s voice. “The box was placed on a deck where the cameras have been broken for some time.”

“Patrol knew about the cameras?” you asked.

Newsted gave you an affirmative sound. “Ulrich knew a guy from Patrol and asked them to pay more attention there. Not a lot of boats on that deck.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Anyone can do anything.”

“And someone did during their shift change,” Beckett leaned forward on his elbows. “They said that the dock was fairly calm before they changed shifts. What do you think?”

“How many bodies have you found before this one?” An uncomfortable silence filled the room right as you spoke. You tore your eyes away from the picture to look at their surprised and concerned faces; brows furrowed and mouths gaped. “What?”

Beckett broke it. “We only found one .”

Newsted furrowed his brows. “Why, do you think there are other bodies?”

You looked at the lieutenant first and then Newsted. “Well,” a breathy, nervous laugh left your lips. “The pink ribbon with a bow, the box, the-the makeup,” you showed them the picture to emphasize your stuttering speech.

“Chopping her head, putting it in a box for the police to find it in a particular place at a particular time,” Newsted continued your words, turning his head towards Beckett. 

“Don’t you think it all looks so…” You were lost for words for a second. “Inconvenient and-and fancy for a one-time thing?”

Beckett remained silent. Newsted took another picture from the desk.

“Was the makeup done post-mortem?” You gave the picture back.

“We believe so but not confirmed yet. Hammett is still working on it.”

“What if it’s an ex-boyfriend situation?” Newsted asked. “Maybe he got crazy and butchered the poor girl. He could easily do this.”

“But then he wouldn't have left her phone and ID.”

He gave you the picture. “Maybe he wanted to humiliate her, or whatever. Maybe he wanted her to be known.” He then asked Beckett. “What do you think, Lou?”

Beckett didn't answer but directed his question to you. “Hunter?”

“I think this is the first of many,” you place the picture on the desk. “But Newsted could be right, we can’t be sure until we look further.”

The phone rang interrupting your speech. Lieutenant answered. “Yes?” A long pause before he finally said “Okay,” and hung up. “Ulrich needs you in the scene, Newsted.”

“What did he say?”

“They found some footprints. He wants you to take a look.” Beckett gathered the pictures and put them back in the file. “Take these,” he handed it to Newsted. “And take Hunter with you. Show her how to work a scene in Seattle.”

“Yes, Lou.” Newsted got up and pointed at the door with his head. “Let’s go.”

You rose from your chair, following your new partner’s steps. Just before you left the room, you heard Lou shouting your name. You stopped. “Yes, sir?”

He tossed your badge to you, you caught it midair. “Welcome to Seattle PD.”

a/n: Hello everyone! This is my first ever Metallica fic (and first ever multi-chapter fic in English), and I hope it won't be the last! This one will be a long, murder mystery featuring Load Era Jason 🥳🥳 I initially intended to have '86 Jason, but it didn't fit well with this fic :') I divided the first chapter into 6 after I realized 8k words would be a bit too much to read. I hope to have nailed the characterization of our boys. This was heavily inspired by the show "The Killing", I highly recommend that you watch it! A quick disclaimer: I'm not American, I have no idea how police procedures work there. I'm just an avid crime mystery show lover :') Please ignore any inaccuracies, I tried my best to research and find information. I also apologize for any grammar mistakes or anything that doesn't sound quite right. I'm not a native English speaker and I'm trying my best :') Enjoy! PS: I purposely gave the reader a name, I personally think "Y/N" looks a bit weird but if you don't like it please let me know so I can change it! Please leave constructive criticism so that I can improve! Thank you so much for reading <3

dividers by @cafekitsune

© 2024 pockcock. All rights reserved. Do not modify, copy, repost or translate my work.

#Please baby I'm still not over the fact you made me fall for a man I don't even know #Like #I AM NO METALLICA FAN #BUT YOUR JASON? #YOUR DETECTIVE JASON? #YOUR JASON IN ALL HIS FORMS? #I am on my knees #he's so heccin good #recs #sun<3

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We stand with you palastine

@cupsmp <- art tagged :)

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#mood #me with my flatmate and her two friends in the living room right now #I swear #haven't left my room all afternoon in fear of meeting another individual #laughs #recs #Isaac is so relatable for real

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I'm FINE! I mean I DO have an exam in an hour, but I'm good! I've been having massive brain rots about my OCs and Mozart with a ballet dancer girlfriend. SO LIFE IS GOOD!

Hi Marie!!!

AW PLEASE THIS IS SO CUTE!!! HELLO INKY! How are you doing?

Here, take this magical cat in exchange <3

#inky<3 #I said what I said #am I going to write something for Mozart with a ballet dancer? Probably because who says I can't?

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Hi Marie!!!

AW PLEASE THIS IS SO CUTE!!! HELLO INKY! How are you doing?

Here, take this magical cat in exchange <3

#inky<3 #marie.mailbox

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Farmers and people in France be fighting for their rights whilst tourists on Tiktok be complaining about how this ruined their "Paris experience".

Like I think something we all need to understand is that countries aren't just pretty landscapes on a postal card. When you visit a country you HAVE to expect some political and social activity because just like you, people living there have their own political and social struggles. The bare minimum is to acknowledge this and not behave like an "Emily in Paris" wannabe by complaining about people and how they defend their rights. Because not only is this very dehumanising but it's also very insensitive. Like there is real suffering behind these protests. And I'm not just saying this for France, but for any country where there is political and social collective actions.

#rambles #for real some people really have zero political awareness #and zero empathy #Like #Instead of shaming people for protesting #ask them what's going on and try to take this as an opportunity to EDUCATE YOURSELF #anyways that's all I had to say

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Listen up!

You see a post like this? Where OP might hurt/kill themselves? You hit that button that I circled

Hit that.

Click Suicide or Self-harm Concern

Yes.

Fill in the rest of it, and hit submit. The "content you reported" will fill itself in

Tumblr will follow up and help them.

Warning: this is only for mobile. If anyone knows how to do this for desktop, please add it!

This could SAVE SOMEONE'S LIFE.

YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE NOT TO REBLOG THIS.

I DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF IT DOESN'T GO WITH YOUR BLOG'S THEME.

And yes, REBLOG. Liking does no shit at all. This isn't ig.

You reblog, people see it. You don't, people don't see it. This shit's that simple.

This could save someone's life. It's not a joke.

#rambles

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Seeing other people happy and knowing that it can bring some serotonin to others (or pure suffering based on the genre). But also just having fun, because sometimes there is just this idea you need to share with the world because you think it is so dope and so cool even if it is just the most random thing.

And, I don't know if it's exactly the same for you Scum, but I know that when I have troubles writing in spite of having the motivation and idea, it's often because I get hang up on all the mistakes and imperfections I see in what I've written. So one thing that really helps me is to remind myself that nothing is made to be perfect from the get go, and it's totally OKAY TO EDIT AFTERWARDS. And it is easier to edit a bad text than a blank page. So I suck it up and try to write (even if it is bad in my opinion) and then I rewrite and edit to make it better.

I don't know if that made sense at all? DFDGVGDN But yeah it works (more often than not).

Two questions for those of us who write (regardless if its fanfic or not, posted or not)

1. What drives you to write? (Not to be confused on what Inspires you to write)

2. What do you do when the demons (writing) wont come out of your brain?

#thanks for coming to my tedtalk #Don't know if that was useful but I hope it was? :') to an extent #rambles #I think you might be a bit too hard on yourself <3

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CDFDGDHBFS

En vrai... En vrai de vrai, there's some truth to this DFSGDHBNT

Le Français est déjà compliqué pour les français donc pour les non français, lol, je veux même pas imaginer <3

no language should be mocked other than french

#laughs

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MDNI BANNERS | neutrals

hello ! I come with mdni banners / dividers HAHAHAH. anyway, just a lil something. feel free to use ♡

more : star / hearts / rich tones / greys / template

please like, reblog, and credit if you use :)

support me through ko-fi | more mdni banners →

#these are so pretty!!!!! #recs

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roughest looking Cyran Rose the world has ever seen. knights are my jam, man.

#If I wasn't a Cyran whore before I definitely am now #recs #PLEASE HE IS SO PRETTY LIKE- #No but ikepri should hire you for his visuals for real

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Who needs clothes? THESE ARE PERFECT FREYA PLEASE I LOVE IT!

Sketchies which is my current favourite thing to do ngl

#Please how are you SO TALENTED? #recs #look at mah friend #being a talented bean #not only does she write amazingly but she also draws perffectly #*sighs*

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Please he is A BEAST. And that's exactly why I like him <3

Countdown to Wolf’s Birthday: Wolf in a nutshell | 3 days!

Masterlists: Writing | Screenshots & Such | Edits

#don't pay me any mind #PMS hitting hard #ikevamp mozart

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They are so handsome. Please my Edgar fangirl genes are raging ANEW.

[ x and x ] | xxxmintblue | Permission Please do not reupload elsewhere. Reblog only. Support the artist by liking/following their work on Twitter.

edgar and luka ☆

more ikerev art here

#recs #Look at him #So cool with his sword #And my lil Luka boi #So cute too <3 #ikerev #ikerev edgar #ikerev luka

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OH MY GOD PLEASE HE SO-

HE SO-

FUCK ME SIDEWAYS OKAY? HE IS SO HOT.

Happy Birthday to our meow meow Mozart 💜💜💜💜💜

Just Wolf after having too many drinks and he starts giggling 🤭

Chibi art by Cybird

#There I've said my piece #thanks for coming to me Tedtalk #recs #ikevamp mozart #ikemen vampire mozart

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I was wondering... What's the part about writing you enjoy the most?

Hey anon! Thank you so much for asking, that's such a sweet question!

Apart from the obvious aspect of sharing my art with others and seeing them enjoy it, I'd say that much like dance, it's a way for me to express myself and feel alive in a way?

It might sound weird but when I don't write or dance, when I can't express myself through these mediums, it starts to itch and ache and I just HAVE to do something about it at some point. It's a bit addictive not gonna lie, but in a good way.

Writing is also something I've always used to process and deal with my own experiences, both good and bad. And getting to share these with other people and see them resonate with what I write is golden to me.

#marie.mailbox #rambles #anon<3

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IMPORTANT

I'm going to be honest, part of why I've been so absent is also because I've been working on an original story of mine that deals with some of my trauma. And whilst writing this story I've realised a LOT of things that might not only apply to me. So I wanted to share a few things with people like me who've dealt with the same thing (unfortunately).

wc: mentions of sexual abuse and its consequences

When someone experiences sexual abuse there are lasting consequences, and some of which aren't talked about enough so I just wanted to give a heads up to all victims that they are not alone. We're in this together!

That said, after SA it is totally okay and normal if you experience things such as:

Hypersexuality: We often think victims of SA suffer from hyposexuality, a form of fear of sexual interactions. But the opposite is also true and it's nothing more than a way for your brain to cope with your trauma. It's a way to claim back control over your body when it's been taken from you and this is NOT something we can control. You are totally legit as a victim, even if your brain's response to trauma is hypersexuality. More often than not victims alternate between phases of hypo and hypersexuality, so this is completely NORMAL, and once again not something you can control.

Rape fantasies: This is something we victims are constantly shamed for because that is not very pretty nor aesthetic. But once again this is a normal response called "traumatic excitement" and NOT something you can control. This is a way for your brain to minimise the trauma you went through, because if you can fantasise about it then surely it wasn't that bad, except it was. So please, please, don't feel like this is your fault or like you're a freak because of this, as once again this is totally out of our control.

Troubles identifying whether your consent is a product of your own desires: One thing I've noticed is that often, us victims, have difficulty identifying whether we are really consenting to something because we want to or because we don't know how to say no or have forgotten how to. Once again that is normal, our relationship with our intimacy has been blurred by what happened to us, and it takes time to heal from this.

Feeling like your sexuality isn't your own anymore: I've noticed this as well and don't think I'm the only one, but sometimes we might feel disgusted by our own sexuality or it might evoke deep sadness within us. Part of me, and I don't know if that's just me, honestly felt like having sexual desire meant that maybe part of me deserved what happened to me and that it was wrong in a way. But guess what, your sexuality is YOUR OWN and no one else's, and just because someone have stolen your consent doesn't mean that you owe them anything. If anything they owe you for what they did to you. What happened to you is and will NEVER be your fault, it is theirs only (whatever was the context) and it is not for you to be ashamed of your sexuality. If anything they should be ashamed for what they did to you.

Anyways, these are just a few things I noticed during my introspection and whilst learning more about the subject. Please once again know that none of these are your fault and that these are not things to be ashamed of as they are just responses to trauma. There is no other culprit than the person who took your "no", your "silence" or your "maybe" for a "yes".

#rambles